The Story of Khaiuhkhunn - The Boiling River.

THE STORY IS GOING TO BE REWRITTEN A TAD, PLEASE IGNORE THE CONFUSING TERMINOLOGY - IT WAS NEVER MEANT TO BE PUBLIC (AT LEAST FOR A LONG WHILE)

                                                                        

When it comes to how the Neyani interact with other factions and races, here's an example:

Khauihkhunn, The Boiling River, one of the more brutal Neyani has a female-built Armory that holds her favorite blade, a falcata of bone. She is a member of a more nomadic, battle hungry clan of mercenaries. On the current earth she is to make a business exchange with the local rogue Ateroma cultists.

River is an elegant-looking woman clad in a thin, buttoned shirt, a jacket, comfortable trousers and high heels. Her silky skin is mocha in color, while her hair is darker than a moonless night. She is accompanied by a smaller, younger-looking lass with marble-pale skin and short blond hair. The deal is to go smoothly, as the parties have worked together before with satisfying outcomes. However, the items on exchange are also centered in the crosshair of an unwelcome third party. Just as the participants are to part ways, a trio of assassins that can bind the shadows to their will, the Umbramansers, plan to interfere, claiming both objects and leaving no witnesses.

Neither the Ateroma nor the woman wish to become easy prey, forming a temporary alliance and trying to fight back against the attackers. With a deafening shriek as her command, the Organo Armory, the aforementioned young girl emerges from the shadows, proceeding to literally spread her torso and face open, revealing her master's falcata. In a flash Khauihkhunn is dashing towards her foes with a mad grin and death in her eyes.

Bloody conflict was a cornerstone of a Neyani's life, naturally she was aware of the eyes peering at the back of her head from the shadowy alleys below, when striding across the rooftops. Hell, even without her superior awareness, River knew of an ambush, as a certain informant delivered information just a night prior. Of course it didn't come cheap.

The Platinum Ameba is a multicellular ameboid organism with a propensity to collect and store valuable minerals, such as gold, platinum, etcetera. Smooth, symmetrical "Coins" emerge from the creature's back as they accumulate more and more of the precious metals. The ameba can band together, forming organic bracelets around the user's arms. Khauihkhunn tears two of the creatures off her left arm and hands it to the shadowy figure. Of course the informant believes their info is worth a tad more, giving the mercenary a needy stare and a sly smirk. She rolls her eyes, grabs, unhinges and lowers her jaw, plucking out a small bead of pure platinum from the space between two molars. It was a pleasurable sight indeed for the informant. The latter bows and dissipates into the shadows, leaving the Boiling River to gear up for an inevitable, and oh so enjoyable bloodbath.

Khaiuhkhunn sees three figures, all sporting identical ashen jackets, black pants, inky baseball caps and nylon masks obscuring the lower halves of their faces.

The "Umbras" rarely conduct operations during the day, as their control over shadow is substantially weakened in the sunlight. Even now, when they stand inside the bare, concrete ribcage of an apartment complex, the golden ambient light bleeds inside and offers the duo somewhat of an advantage. Of course, the former squad too was aware of this little setback, something the Umbramansers at hand were more than willing to compensate for with their sheer power.

The skin of the Ateroma's arms and face begins to liquify, molding into a gelatinous, bluish-semi transparent epidermis of a creature completely alien. His arms are now two sets of tendrils, his face - a transparent, mobile humanoid shape. The alien body parts now look like they are naught but thin cytoplasm, its organelles freely floating inside - a painfully erroneous judgement the assailants were to soon discover.

The Umbras took their battle stance, the purplish-black mass seeping from their attire, fighting tooth and nail for the right to exist in this world. It twirled and writhed forming short, double edged swords and jagged nets of shadow.

Khaiuhkhunn was never the type to stand on the defensive when enemies outnumbered her, if anything she believed that superior numbers relaxed the enemy, their overreliance on each other becoming an exploitable weakness. Ignoring her new partner's calls to stop, the Boiling River slashed towards the assassins, effortlessly dodging and deflecting their blows and swings. The Ateroma begrudgingly followed her tracks and joined the battle. The Umbramancers proved to be a formidable foe even in these adverse conditions, their weaponry small, mobility high and coordination - Impressive. River's movement was akin to a chaotically brutal dance, as her athletic body effortlessly maneuvered around the nets of shadow and the umbral shortswords. The unpredictable pattern of her movement kept the Umbras thoroughly occupied, while the servant of Ateroskleroz carefully searched for an opening to strike. Finally, the Neyani landed a swift kick into an opponent's epigastrium, knocking the wind out of his lungs. Snatching this opportunity, the cytoplasmic creature dove past the other two fighters and jammed one of his tentacles almost fully into the incapacitated fighter's side while deflecting the rest of the incoming blows with the remaining tendrils. Momentarily the Boiling River kicked the second attacker, before proceeding to slice half of the impaled Umbramanser's head off with her fleshy falcata. However, the tides of the battle were to change very soon, as the fighter at the receiving end of her shoe managed to clutch his hand into her ankle, and proceeded to stab his blade right through her calf. And while the former sliced the alien woman's leg off, the remaining female assassin dove past the two and grabbed a hold of the Neyani's package, swiftly slashing at the back of the Ateroma's Popliteal fossa and then proceeding to leap from the current building into the neighboring one. Khaiuhkhunn grunted in surprise and discomfort, stumbling back and almost falling over. Meanwhile the remaining warrior sprinted past her, dodged his enemy's cytoplasmic spikes and smashed his shoulder into the body of his still standing, yet none the less decerebrate comrade, pushing him deeper onto the cultist's tentacle. The newly gained momentum of the dead mass destabilized the latter's gait, allowing the shadow manipulator to cut his head off with a single, swift movement before darting in his living comrade's trail. The two headless figures, locked in an eternal embrace plummeted to the cold concrete floor like puppets with severed strings.

The Boiling River dug her sword into the nearby support beam and bitterly leaned onto it, frustration over the lost body part (which was currently free falling towards the ground) pricking at her synthetic mimicry of a skin like dozens of tiny needles. However, an antipodal emotion was simultaneously boiling in her heart - agitation, and excitement! Finally a battle worthy of her attention, a stroke of color on a boringly monochromatic painting that was draped over the painfully tiring weeks of the alien female's life! The miniature muscles deep inside the skin plates of her neck began to tense, sliding off the epidermis of the lower half of River's face, revealing her bony grin and crimson musculature. Her hoarse shriek washed across the entire building, permeating through its every nook and cranny. The blond with the ivory skin emerged once again, sparing her owner a hollow stare. The call was an order and the armory knew exactly what to do. Sliding the skin plating off of her own leg, the Primitive proceeded to dig her fingers into the appendage, tearing it clean off and hurling it towards Khaiuhkhunn. She gladly attached the new limb to her stump, and proceeded to insert her thumb into a vertical slice on the bodypart's ankle. Rotating it activated an organic mechanism, splitting the muscle, bone and cartilage, rearranging them into the shape of a fleshy high heel to complement the one on River's intact leg. She was now back in the game.

The chase was on.

The strength of the alien woman's legs was enough to crack the sun-scorched concrete, as she bolted across the rooftops. The gust of wind slammed into her figure, cooling down the blood, boiling from sheer excitement. Her gaze was that of a predator, her unhinged grin bearing the woman's pearly-white teeth to the world, all in anticipation of a fresh prey.

The Umbras were fast, a trait most probably attributable to the shadowy mass underneath their clothing, strengthening the assassins' joints and allowing for faster movement. Wherever the light cannot reach, the Umbramansers find strength. Then why were they racing across the rooftops in the middle of the day? Perhaps the unwanted guests wished to regroup with their comrades and simultaneously lure the Neyani into a trap. The idea of spilling more blood was alluring to say the least, but it would be unwise to risk going MIA, without bringing the leadership up to date. The choice was made, and the pressure exerted onto the muscles and tendons doubled, as the Boiling River accelerated her movement, bolting towards the two with an even greater speed.

It seems as though the Umbras greatly underestimated the capabilities of their adversary, as they came to notice the blur that was her figure when it was already dangerously close.

The one ahead, frantically scanned the area and swiftly signaled his comrade before lowering his trajectory, and smashing into a window of one of the more dimly lit buildings. The Neyani was practically breathing down the other one's neck, swinging her falcata and managing to graze the runner's side as they too followed their leader.

A few seconds later, River's body descended onto the glossy floor sprinkled with shards of glass. Khaiuhkhunn could barely recall the days when she actually had to stop and catch her own breath.

These tendons and joints were not designed to withstand such pressures, which meant that River would have to replace and repair them by hand after the mission. Each strand would have had to be fixed and recalibrated, a lengthy process she definitely didn't yearn for. The lungs weren't faring any better, neither did the "Saturatory body," an organ specifically designed to absorb, contain and send 100% oxygen into the bloodstream in order to aid in swift metabolism. Her current build was aimed at concealment, Skin Plate integration, and balanced performance across the board. Thankfully the body still held itself together.

The huntress brought the bloodied blade of metallic bone closer to her nasal cavity, and with a single swift inhalation introduced the intoxicating fumes of fresh blood to an entire army of olfactory receptors. Distinct from human's, yet somewhat similar, she thought. The dim light bled into the facility, the reflective floor giving it a pleasant shimmer, its only companion a faint echo of footsteps disappearing down the hallway.

The arena our protagonist had to navigate was merely a single layer in a much more complex structure, a large fitness center. The current floor was dedicated to activities related to swimming. The facility was not operational on that day. Good, less bystanders to worry about, the woman thought. The massive beast of concrete, rubber and plastic was currently drained of its lifeblood, permanently plunged into shadow. The Umbras chose a playing field that complemented their powers nigh perfectly. The Boiling River loved a good challenge, and she was about to get her fill.

The Neyani's fingers gently caressed the reception desk, while the eyes focused on scanning every corner and crevice of the hall. The process gifted Khaiuhkhunn with a serendipitous discovery tucked right underneath the aforementioned table. A box of cigarettes, a lighter and half a liter of mysterious, transparent fluid. An unpleasant wave of electricity washed over the woman, the moment the sharp scent of its contents assaulted her receptors. High grade ethanol, flammable. River's artificial lips curled into a smile, as she opted to hold onto the bottle.

A semi-fleshy thud alternated with a sharp snap of a single high heel, a loud declaration of the woman's presence. Khaiuhkhunn didn't bother with subtleties, especially in dimly lit environments where such niceties did not shift the tides of battle in her favor. The fact that the electrical room's location was a mystery compounded the situation. Experienced Umbras could easily clad themselves in a coat of shadow to blend in with their surroundings, meaning an ambush was unavoidable. Were the blonde automaton of flesh present, River would have easily swapped her optical sensors out for those more...fitting for the encounter.

Miniature waves gently splashed in their synthetic basins, as the faint remnants of their reflections danced on the Boiling River's athletic body. Every muscle, nerve fiber and sense were put on high alert, in an attempt to cover as many blind spots as possible. At the far edge of the expansive atrium was an entry to an even darker section of the facility, undoubtedly where the assassins have taken shelter. With careful steps, the warrior approached the doorway, her bony falcata resting on the woman's shoulder, trembling ever so slightly from anticipation. It was a defaced, hollow chamber devoid of windows, furniture, lighting, anything that would help differentiate its absolutely unremarkable existence from the rest of the facility. The only things worth noting were a few supporting pillars protruding from the walls ever so slightly, and a few rows of tubes running at the corners of the floor and the roof. A few steps in and the Neyani's sight was already veiled by darkness. If there was a perfect moment to strike, this was it.

A man-sized drop of inky blackness slowly pulled itself down from the ceiling, stopping just a few centimeters short of the cold floor, right behind our "heroine." Without a single decibel of sound, the mass unwrapped itself like an origami figurine, the operative inside twisting it into a helical blade. The weapon swirled through the air, its spiraling tip already starting to drill into the first centimeters of the woman's left Rhomboid muscle.

"Caught you." A faint whisper pulsed throughout the chamber. The Neyani's neck snapped to the left, a mad grin of a predator plastered onto her tanned visage. The creature's athletic body rotated counterclockwise, disallowing the shadowy helix a deeper entry into her system. Oh, she yearned to slice that impudent girl's fingers off for daring to stab the Boiling River's beautiful figure! And she would have done it with ease, however, her glance was met by another figure imprinting onto the lightless space dangerously close! River was surrounded, thus she quickly dashed aside and effortlessly dodged both opponents.

Once again the overlying skin split apart, revealing crimson muscles, jagged bone, and cartilage, and Khaiuhkhunn, the Boiling River mustered yet another Bone-chilling shriek, a greeting meant for an army of conical tendrils being shot towards the Neyani warrior. Dodge and somersault, an elegant and swift dance, though sadly a few imperfect moves short of flawlessness. Forgivable when one has to face what amounts to a firing squad. A few stray tendrils managed to pierce the woman's clothing, leaving small craters in the synthetic epidermis. The outfit was fairly expensive, the damage received would have surely angered its owner, were she not beyond such lowly human attachments. Flesh is more important than dead fabric, and the purity of its craft extends far beyond any piece of earthly vanity!

The male Umbra dashed forward, clad in the armored robes of shadow. This technique transformed his entire body into a chaotic weapon, the unstable mass shifting into razor-sharp blades that lashed out in all directions. "Impressive!" The woman thought, as she dashed towards her opponent. However, just as the Neyani and the shadow user were to lock their swords, a blur registered on the far edges of the former's retina. The other assassin was in no mood for fair combat, trying to actively blindside her target. The latter's arsenal was less focused on defense, with power shunted towards deadlier weaponry. A man-sized scythe closed in with a frightening speed, aimed directly at the Neyani's carotids. While the latter did manage to push her body aside, just as the shadowy weapon was to sever her coveted blood vessels, the maneuver left her open to the other enemy's attack. A black lance plunged into her abdomen, forcing the woman to release a pained grunt. Khaiuhkhunn momentarily grabbed the blade, trying to deny the tip access to her spinal column. The force of the blow was strong enough to pin River to a nearby wall, the thrashing armor slicing ribbons of flesh off of her chest. To the attackers' surprise, a few sharp exhalations were the only reaction they could elicit from their enemy.

So the legendary pain tolerance the Neyani possesses is true after all! Doesn’t matter now! Her abs are pierced, the major artery - obliterated and blood should be pooling inside there at a dangerous rate! A bloody hemodynamic shock must be taking place at the moment, the falcata is already on the floor, yet the woman's grip is that of stone and gaze is full of vigor just the same! So why isn't she a damned corpse already?! Whatever, a comrade with a clear path to the monstrosity's neck is more than enough to silence her permanently! Right?!

Not so fast, boys and girls. A curious object flicked between The Boiling River's slender fingers. Its tubular corpus was made of plastic, tipped with a button and a single orifice. The object found itself caged between the woman's middle finger and thumb. The button slid into its nest with a click, and the circular hole spewed a tongue of flame. Rivulets of blood slithered across the blade, as the grip on it tightened even further, keeping the user nice and close. Khaiuhkhunn propelled the hand with which she held the lighter towards the lance bearer's face. The flame burnt away the shadow, driving it back just a few centimeters and exposing the pale skin. And the moment the Umbramanser's brow ridge, and the eye below it were revealed, the Boiling River's pointy finger plunged into the man's pupil before assuming a hooked shape and pulling the organ out in its entirety.

The man recoiled and stepped back, letting out a cry of pain. "Only a fool enters the fray of battle without a backup abdominal Aorta!" Exclaimed the Neyani, overjoyed by the fact that the artery that nested in the deep left corner of her abdominal cavity, finally got a turn to feed the lower body. It was a standard practice for many a Neyani. Once the inner endothelium of the main aorta established contact with the mesenterium, it released a chemical agent that contracted the aforementioned vessel fully, shunting the blood towards a pre-installed, synthetic piece of circulatory circuitry. This allowed them to keep on fighting after sustaining trauma that would otherwise topple even the fiercest of human warriors.

Catching the glimpse of the second hostile, River swiftly rolled out of the way and narrowly dodged a blow that sliced ten centimeters deep into a nearby wall. Grabbing her sword mid-roll, Khaiuhkhunn angled it with the girl's kneecap, before executing an elegant slash. The bone, the ligaments, the internal capsule, all of them were sliced apart, forcing the assassin to kneel, as she barely managed to muster a pained croak in sheer shock and awe. She should have invested more of her power into a shield of shadows, much like her comrade. The Boiling River straightened up, eyeing her weakened adversary with a hint of desire and twisted joy. The pale female was akin to a beautiful birch, and the Neyani was a lumberjack in the peak of her power.

The falcata sliced through fabric, skin, muscle and traces of fatty tissue, gliding through that miniature gap between the lass's second and third lumbar vertebrae, effortlessly transecting the spinal column in its entirety, the Neyani's immaculate accuracy a testament to Khaiuhkhunn's sheer battle prowess and experience. And as an elegant dancer of death, she spun 360 degrees and jammed her sword into the side opposite of the wound, completely transforming a once living Umbramanser into two humanoid halves destined to perish without each other. The girl's story has met its end.

Soon after the deed was done, a roar of sorrow and fury filled the entire chamber, the now one-eyed fighter its one and only source. A wave of shadow smashed into the Neyani, knocking her back a few meters. A sound of a few cracked bones echoed within the soft tissues, a sign that the body was rapidly approaching its limit. The armored fighter dashed forward, his rage allowing him to rouse enough darkness to completely snuff the light out. His armor grew tendrils sharp enough to punch through slabs of steel, all animated for a single purpose - to kill. An ocean of darkness surrounded the woman, but she still managed to dodge most of the sharp tentacles. One did, however, manage to drill through her thigh. The Umbramanser was well aware of the lighter, so he kept his distance, unwilling to expose himself to that little trick again.

Her body had sustained an excessive amount of damage, the joints were worn out, and the muscles were exhausted. Has the Boiling River finally bitten off more than she could chew? Hahah! Nonsense! She was not done with gifting her enemies with unpleasant surprises! Far from it. Khaiuhkhunn somersaulted back, trying to create as much distance from the attacker as she could. She then proceeded to pull out the miraculously intact bottle from her torn jacket, before slicing its top off and emptying it on her entire body. The clear fluid permeated every strand, every square centimeter of the skin plates, every wound and crevice. With a grin, the lighter clicked once again, the Neyani's athletic figure was lit ablaze. The golden light pierced through the black ocean, and it caved in completely. Even while lost in a haze of rage and partial blindness, the assassin couldn't help but be completely taken aback by the sight that unfolded in front of his eye. A beacon of death, completely unphased by the swirling flames stood before him, rendering most if not all of the Umbra's arsenal obsolete, or greatly weakened.

That frightening figure dashed forward with a terrifying speed, the sheer pressure of her footsteps strong enough to fracture the floor plates. The shadow manipulator still managed to somehow hold the shape of his lance together, instinctively blocking an incoming blow, an act which came at the cost of his defenses. In an instant, the woman shed her clothing and outer shell of synthetic skin, with them burning the protective layers off of the pale assassin.

The only thing he recalled next was the pain of smashing through a door and then colliding with a cold, hard floor. A body loomed over him, tall like a mountain from where he currently lay. Dim reflections danced on the wet muscles, exposed bone and cartilage. Pearly white molars and three sets of fangs, beautiful amber eyes, dozens of osseous sockets dotting the woman's entire anatomy, all bared for the world to observe. That visage, that elegantly beautiful, feminine body was simultaneously bone chilling and utterly mesmerizing. Ironic. Frankly, the man was on the verge of death, yet he could not help but admire (and simultaneously desire) his deadly adversary.

The Umbramanser sprung up to his feet, well aware that neither his body, nor the shadows it could conjure were swift enough to evade what was to come. The simple truth was, the man was unwilling to accept defeat while laying down. Khaiuhkhunn was simply too close. The blade slid into the Umbra's flesh, exposing the contents of his left thigh, abdomen, thorax and right shoulder girdle to the atmosphere. He stumbled back, only managing to choke out a few hoarse exhales, due to his ribcage being depressurized. After a few seconds of fruitless struggle, the assassin's back pressed against the floor once again.

Even while witnessing his own body shut down due to catastrophic blood loss and lack of oxygen, even after being forced to gaze upon the death of his comrade, the Umbra could not help but glare madly at the skinless being with this newly found interest. Khaiuhkhunn was well aware of this fact. She knew the extent of beauty her features, contours, shapes possessed, which somehow managed to activate the right neuronal circuitry in many a humanoid. It was akin to a magnet most powerful, honey most delicious, drawing the attention of hundreds of hungry eyes.

However, to River it was something akin to observing a black hole in the depths of space. One could acknowledge its presence, yes, but comprehend the reason for its existence? That was a different question. Beauty could lure prey into a false sense of security, fool it into thinking it has control, on the other hand, stunning looks could not shed blood, which rendered it a mere curiosity for a regular Neyani, nothing less and nothing more.

She pondered over this for a few heartbeats more, eyeing the body of her would-be assassin with frightening stillness. She then proceeded to slide her fingers underneath the flesh of her left armpit, pulling out a bony mechanism slightly longer than a monocle and placing it on her left eye. A cylindrical piece in the machine's center slowly established contact with her cornea, before bombarding the inner chambers of the eye in light. It was as if someone poured crimson paint over the entire world. Khaiuhkhunn clicked her tongue twice and looked around. The machine reacted to the command, and a tiny green dot appeared over the horizon, with alien symbols imprinting onto the wall beside it. River was glad, her organic armory was getting close.

It took a while, but the miniature emerald speck finally began to grow, as the organic armory slowly made its way towards its mistress. Meanwhile, Khaiuhkhunn busied herself in search of the stolen case, noticing its outline tucked away behind some bits of architecture. She then dragged both corpses into the smaller swimming pool, before proceeding to drain two thirds of it after finding the water control center. Once back, the alien woman indulged in the act of staring intensely at the strokes of blackish blood, that gently slithered in the water like tentacles of some unseen beast. The twisted tranquility of the sight observed allowed the wait to flow by faster.

A figure began imprinting on the wall of shadows, slowly approaching our heroine of questionable morality and alliances. The creature knelt with some difficulty, Its gait unstable due a hastily attached lower leg, the body part's tanned synthetic skin, still coated in a thick layer of grime and industrial sand.

The woman extended her hand towards the biological automaton without averting her sight from the cold bodies, before vocalizing a collection of growls of different pitches and a few tongue clicks. The feminine machine momentarily unzipped its hoodie and pulled up its shirt, exposing the pearly-white chest. The fabricated epidermis and flesh slid apart like a sideways clam shell, small machines, ampules of translucent bone, spare joints, limbs and other completely alien pieces of technology occupied most of its thoracic and abdominal cavities. Without even looking at it, the Neyani grabbed one of the vials, broke off its cartilaginous tip and poured the luminescent, orange liquid into the pool. The semi-viscous substance began aggressively mixing with the blood, worming its way into the open wounds, ravaging both flesh and bone alike. The gashes and cuts began to bubble and froth, as if covered in some alien analogue of hydrogen peroxide. Soon enough, a pungent sulfuric aroma began occupying the chamber, as the substance ravenously defaced and disfigured the former assassins, turning them into formless islands of disintegrating organic mass, while leaving their inorganic clothing intact. The Neyani retrieved a spherical shell, no larger than her palm from the depths of the primitive's pelvic region, vocalized a few more commands and began making her way into the depths of the facility. Having previously trodden these cold hallways in search of a way to control the flow of water, Khaiuhkhunn noticed a pair of dressing rooms, a potential future destination.

Gliding past a small army of lockers, the Boiling River entered the doorway ahead, and stepped onto a rough, tiled floor. Three solitary shower heads bowed before their visitor, all eager to wash away the blood and filth off of her majestic body. A single twist of a tight knob, and a wave of frigidity rained down on a tendinous scalp. Miniature transparent rivers slid down the sharp nasal ridge, past the lipless grin, embracing the chiseled shoulders before moving downwards and filling up dozens of bony holes on the woman's physique, a fertile soil of thousands if not millions of biomechanical nightmares to sprout their roots into and interface with the rest of the nervous system. The Boiling river sat down, assumed a pose similar to that of a lotus, placed the spherical shell aside before plunging her fingers into one of its poles. A pale emerald gel clung to the reddish fingertips, relaxing the exhausted muscles, soothing the sore tendons, washing away the latent pain and filth. The monotonous melody sung by the showerheads gently echoed in the room, going hand in hand with the alien female's meditative pose and creating an ideal environment for the woman to plunge into an ocean of thought.

The neural depths unearthed events that transpired that day, down to the most uncanny of details. The nerve circuits chaotically fired off electricity, creating a fertile soil for the seeds of analysis to grow and yield fruits of alternate solutions, or conversely, the thorns of possibly fatal failures. Were it not for that nifty little bottle and its combustible contents, the tides of combat risked turning in drastically different directions. In all fairness, the situation could very well culminate in the Boiling River finally becoming still and rigid.

Khaiuhkhunn scoffed at herself. The word "Nonsense" echoed in the interior of her cranium. It was of no use to wield the power of hindsight to dissect the possibilities of the past! River could simply adopt a new strategy on the spot! She'd try to lure them out of the cover and initiate combat in a more or less lit environment. If push came to shove, the Neyani could also stall them long enough for the Organo Armory to catch up. These sockets of bone were drilled into the deepest tissues of her body for a reason both great, and terrible! An entire arsenal of deadly tools reside in the Primitive's interior, such as optical sensors designed to detect an entire palette of different visual and even auditory frequencies, hidden shin and radial bone blades, spinal whips, combustible mucus, and so much more. Within the span of a minute River would have been able to switch her eyes for those more attuned with the low-light environment, arm up and bring some portable sources of light to disperse the ever-present darkness. The only reason she wasn't already armed to the teeth (in a literal sense), was due to the weapons' incompatibility with the synthetic skin plates, and thus, the woman's disguise.

Would the resulting battle allow the alien warrior to overpower the enemy with ease? By any means, no! Just like the Neyani, the Umbramansers were bred for war, a massive common ground which stood as a foundation for their mutual respect. For Khaiuhkhun, the Umbras were a rare breed of worthy challengers, the battle prowess of distinguished members a good counterweight for those of the Neyani Clans. As displayed prior, Khaiuhkhunn would not grant herself the right to avoid clashing with shadow users, even when they outnumbered her. In conclusion, blood HAD to be shed that day, nothing less and nothing more.

The foaming mucus washed away the scabs, the blood and leftovers of torn flesh, that dangled on thin strands. Coincidentally, the bio machine has also entered the shower room, having finished disposing of the biological evidence, while bringing the indigestible clothing over to its owner. The primitive gazed at its mistress with a blank, meaningless expression in anticipation of an order. Khaiuhkhunn straightened up and hissed at her companion, whilst shutting off the stream of water. The armory bowed and without a second of hesitation dropped its hoodie and took off its shirt. Afterwards, the unbuttoned trousers slid down, with pale white underwear soon following suit. The biomechanical armory stood at the mercy of its... Of HER mistress completely in the nude. Khaiuhkhunn approached her companion. She, the armory was roughly the same height as the Neyani. River's thin, wet fingers trailed a path from the machine's short golden locks down to her pinkish lips, moving towards the sharp clavicles, then tracing lines on her fleshy mounds. The alien female could not help but admire the sheer craftsmanship that went into the design of her custom-made Organo Armory, from the biomechanical girl's skeletal structure, to the pores, tags, moles, imperfections and warmth of her synthetic skin, with proportionally distributed musculature somewhere in the middle. And the best part was yet to be unveiled. Khaiuhkhunn situated her nails right underneath the lower border of the automaton's ribcage, and with a single strong push slid inside. Slowly lifting her arm, separating the skin from the soft fatty tissue of the armory's firm breast, River removed the epidermis of the entire upper left torso, before aligning the external arteries, each tipped with a bony needle with the sockets on her own body. The flesh seamlessly integrated itself onto the woman's muscles. Slowly, plate by plate, the Neyani's skinless body gained a new epidermal veil to hide behind, albeit now it belonged to a woman of Scandinavian descent and not that of Latin America. Soon enough River's stunning physique was also obscured by the baggy clothing of her biological robot, thus concluding her transformation.

"Integrate the feeler flesh into your architecture." She uncharacteristically ordered the mechanism in human tongue. Neyani conditioning ran deeper than the Mariana Trench. The moment an individual's face was wrapped in its cocoon of skin, their speech solely conformed to the dominant dialect of the local population, even in feats of extreme pain or joy. The machine dug her fleshy hand in the depths of her abdominal cavity, and retrieved what appeared to be two gloves missing their dorsopalmar sides. The Armory then passed them to her owner, before proceeding to clad herself in the soaked belongings of Khaiuhkhunn's would-be assassins. Afterwards, with Boiling River's help, the "Feeler flesh" gloves slid onto her skinless fingers. The inner machinery dug into the armory's capillaries, arterioles and venules, shunting blood towards tens of thousands of miniature stalks that currently found residence on the primitive's palms and phalanges. The function of these curious exemplars of alien technology resembled that of gecko toe pads, granting the user ability to scale vertical surfaces with ease.

In a matter of five minutes, both figures left the building, with River hitching a ride on the back of her companion, who scaled the walls with her new "gloves." In spite of holding her head high throughout the battle and its immediate aftermath, Khaiuhkhunn's body has sustained damage bordering on excessive, and pushing its limits even further would lengthen an already tedious task of tissue repair. This little conundrum meant that she had to remain on the armory's back.

With the mission-critical case safely retrieved, the two proceeded to return to the concrete skeleton where the deal was supposed to take place. The two then dragged the cold cadaver of the cultist into the shadows, with plans of later contacting the latter's comrades to inform them of the situation and their brother's whereabouts.

For now, however, Khaiuhkhunn, the Boiling River, had only a single goal in mind. To reach her home, to recuperate and stew in the pleasant memories of the day, to begrudgingly repair the broken bones and torn tendons while watching the golden rays of the sunset slowly crawling from the chocolate-brown tiles of the floor up to the furthest edges of the roof of her room. What a day it was. What an excitingly bloody day it was!