Once the chaos seemingly died down, the corpses of the fallen soldiers were given a makeshift burial. However, it was done more as a precaution against garnering unwanted attention than to let the dead rest in peace.
In the surrounding area, corpses of hordes of undead lay unchecked. Ashton, along with his summons had faced most of them alone, leaving some for the soldiers.
While most of them handled the undead with some effort, some had to be saved from even the weakest undead grunts. Being left unchecked was the best thing to happen to the undead as they rapidly evolved over the months.
That said, the performance of his soldiers was below expectations. If they entered Contingency as they were, they wouldn't survive for more than a minute.
[A minute? More like ten seconds! That too after you trained them to the bones!]
'Not all of them are useless.'
While everyone went around burning the undead corpses and burying the friendly ones, Ashton and Astaroth were in deep conversation. Judging from their tone, it didn't seem like Astaroth was happy with what he had seen.
[Have you heard of the adverts in Kernel tower? This gun shoots the target in the head 99.99% of the time. Sometimes it's the 0.01% that counts, and this is one of those times.]
As much as Ashton didn't want to agree with Astaroth, he couldn't ignore him either. Ultimately, he was correct. Excluding a handful of people, the rest of his force had become a burden.
Under normal circumstances, Ashton would have spared a few words to comfort everyone. But he wasn't like the kid he was before.
Having turned into a seasoned warrior, he realised every battle would have losses. After all, a great soldier had to be prepared to face death before lifting a weapon. If they were not prepared for death, they would fail as soldiers. It was as simple as that.
However, a dead soldier wasn't of any use to him. Well, technically, they were since he could use their corpse to feed his summons. But that wasn't the topic of discussion at the moment.
[You should stop sugarcoating your words. They died because they were weak and overconfident. If it hadn't been this fight, it'd have been some other. But one day, their cockiness would have caught up to them either way.]
'It's scary how our minds have a similar thought process these days.'
[Ha! I knew being around me would increase your brain cells.]
'I never said anything about more brain cells, though?'
[...you and your indirect taunts.]
'I could give it to you face to face if you wish.'
[Pass.]
***
While Ashton stared at them, the soldiers were studying him as well. Their captain had changed ever since he returned from Nirvana. Only those closest to Ashton knew the exact reason for his sudden change. But some rumours weren't all that far from the truth.
Although everyone understood Ashton's sentiments on the matter, it was still difficult for them to adhere to his sudden tough mentality. In their eyes, the loss of their comrades was an unfortunate accident.
How were they supposed to know what kind of enemies they would face? After all, most of them were mercenaries, so intel about the mission and the target was usually handed over to them on a silver platter.
They would then use that information to formulate a plan and strike to achieve the desired result. They weren't used to rapidly adapting to changes in a mission. Especially changes that could lead to death.
But then again, Ricochet knew his men were reeking of overconfidence. Since they were Metahumans, they thought nothing on earth would defeat them or catch them off-guard. Well, their thinking paid off, as they were now six feet under, embracing foreign soil.
Suddenly, a couple of soldiers let go of their shovels as despair dawned upon them. They had been inches away from the black smoke that turned their allies into rabid zombies.
In other words, their trauma was similar to that of Anna's as they had witnessed what the carnage corpsification gas could trigger. That, coupled with the thought of entering a city shrouded with deadly smoke, drove them into despair.
Ricochet rushed to knock some sense into their weak minds, but Ashton was quicker than him.
"Are you scared?" He mumbled, but the men couldn't open their mouths in fear.
"I asked, ARE YOU SCARED?" Ashton violently shook both of them, which seemed to snap them out of their pathetic state.
"H-How can we not be!" The man yelled at the top of his lungs, "Did you not see what that smoke did to-"
Having received his answer, Ashton knocked both the men unconscious. Everyone who saw it was too dumbfounded to speak and stared at Ashton as if he was a ghost.
"Anyone else who is scared?"
No one dared to say a word.
"It's alright, even I'm scared of what lies behind those walls." Ashton continued, "Being scared of the unknown is only logical. If you're not, then you have to be a psychopath.
"However, if you let that fear to wrap you around its finger, then you're already dead. Being six feet under or six feet above the ground won't matter if you lack the zeal to live. Unlike these two."
Ashton continued, "I have decided I'll enter the city alone. It's something I have to do with or without your help. But the rest of you still have a job to do. Man the exits and ensure not one of those bastards gets out of here alive.
"The loss of your comrades angers you, correct? Then have the guts to avenge them, and don't cry like these fools. If you think it's too tough for you, run because the Reaper doesn't take prisoners, let it be friends or foes."
Having said his piece of mind, Ashton left the team to decide their fate. As much as he cared about them, he couldn't care less about their decision because the thought of revenge had clouded his mind.