Chapter 30 Taken by Aamon
Red staggered toward the forest with one arm hanging uselessly at her side, Ursula following closely behind her.
From between the trees, people slowly emerged from hiding and stared in disbelief at what had happened. Call’s gun was clipped to Red’s pants. The moment Kit saw her, she ran over and burst into tears.
“Are you okay?” Kit asked between sobs.
Red nodded weakly. “I need to rest, Kit. My arm hurts so bad.”
Then suddenly, Red’s knees gave out. Blood dripped down from her injured arm as she collapsed onto the ground, barely conscious.
Kit panicked and quickly pulled Red into her arms. She turned desperately toward the crowd behind her, but nobody stepped forward.
“Please, help us,” Kit begged.
Surely one of them had to be a medic. There had to be at least one Support Medic among all these people.
But the humans only flinched and looked away.
“She saved your lives! Aren’t any of you going to help?” Kit shouted angrily.
The crowd only exchanged uneasy glances. Bystanders. That was all they were.
“Damn ungrateful humans,” Kit cursed under her breath.
Suddenly, Aamon stepped out from the crowd and walked toward them. He tapped Kit lightly on the shoulder from behind, startling the woman badly enough that she almost fell over.
Aamon crouched down beside Red and carefully touched her injured arm. Red instantly winced in pain, and that reaction alone told Aamon everything he needed to know.
“I’m taking her,” he said.
“Where?” Kit asked nervously. “I’m coming too.”
“You’ll only slow me down. Stay here.”
“Red is my friend,” Kit said firmly.
Aamon looked at her directly. “And what exactly can you do for her right now?”
Kit fell silent. She had no medicine. No medical equipment. There was nothing she could do to help Red recover.
“Can you save her?” Aamon asked again quietly.
Kit swallowed hard. “No…”
“Then stay with the Metaphysics for now. You’ll be safer with them,” Aamon ordered.
“But—”
Kit stopped herself the moment she met Aamon’s piercing gaze.
Without another word, Aamon took Call’s gun from Red’s waistband and handed it to Kit. Then he carefully lifted Red into his arms.
The people immediately moved aside for him. Some feared the assassins. Others simply didn’t want to stand in his way.
Then Aamon sprinted into the forest. A loud engine-like roar echoed from the sky as Ursula immediately followed after them.
Aamon glanced down at Red, who was drifting in and out of consciousness.
“You can hold on, right?” he asked.
“Yeah… I think so,” Red whispered weakly.
“You have to stay strong.”
“I’m trying, Aamon.”
A faint smile appeared at the corner of his lips. “Good job, Red.”
Red didn’t answer.
Her chest hurt too much whenever she thought about Call. He died because of her mistake. And she couldn’t even find his body.
How was she supposed to face Lein now? How could she give Call a proper funeral?
More tears rolled down her cheeks.
“My friend is gone,” Red whispered brokenly.
“The Gunner?” Aamon asked quietly.
Red nodded as her sobbing worsened. “Yeah…”
“He was a great warrior.”
“I know.” Red wiped her tears weakly. “He was really kind.”
“I’m sure he’d be proud of you.”
After that, neither of them spoke again.
Aamon never slowed down. He jumped effortlessly from branch to branch through the forest while Red tried her best to stay conscious despite the unbearable pain shooting through her arm.
Eventually, Aamon arrived near a small waterfall hidden deep in the woods.
Several assassins were gathered nearby, along with one woman who stood out completely from the rest.
Everyone turned the moment Aamon landed from the trees. Ursula descended shortly after him, and several people gasped at the sight of the massive robot.
One assassin immediately stormed toward Aamon, clearly furious.
“What are you doing?” he demanded, his face partially hidden beneath a mask.
“She needs help,” Aamon answered flatly.
“This is unacceptable, Aamon,” another woman hissed. She wore the same assassin classification as him.
The atmosphere instantly turned tense.
Several assassins reached for their weapons, glaring sharply at Aamon.