One of the most admirable things about the people who continue to live in the Wastes is their tenacity. You could knock them on their ass and steal everything they own before they even hit the ground.
They’ll then get right back up and do their damnedest to survive anyway just to spite you for it.
This goes triple for when they’re attacked by antithesis.
I don’t know if that makes them more or less foolish.
-Anthology Professor Jane Hawkins, 2053
I didn’t really get a chance to test my new toy for a depressingly long time. (Around ten minutes of walking across the muddy field, until I finally crossed the road and into a harvested cornfield, which was a bit drier.) Any antithesis I did wander across were just single Models not even worth spending a shell on. It felt kind of anti-climactic, but I knew I had an answer to the Model Ones and anything armored now, which was an immense relief.
When I crested over a small hill, I saw the perfect opportunity to at least try out one of the modes. A single, completely stuffed Model Eight with a group of Threes providing it an escort. I was grinning like a maniac the second I saw it.
‘Pyri, how should I devastate that Eight?’
You could fire at it head on with a slug, the force of the weapon will carry the pellets throughout the body that way.
I acknowledged Pyri with a nod and burst out into a run, attracting the attention of the xeno-dogs, which in turn had them charging right back at me as I pulled the Trench Stormer up.
The shotgun released a spray of buckshot with a bang, and right after an electrical hiss raced after it and sparked the pellets. It was almost mesmerizing how the arcs of electricity snapped between the points in the air repeatedly, and just down right satisfying with the Threes ran right into it. Some of the pellets buried themselves in a body and lit them up like a Christmas tree, while most of them carried the net over the group and left them smoldering on the ground.
The Eight was inch-worming forward for its life when I crunched through the corn stubble to stand in front of it.
“Heya wormy!” I said with unrestrained glee as I slid the lever back, “Wanna help me test my new gun?”
The fucker didn’t even answer! How rude!
“Don’t worry! You’ll be able to help me anyways!”
The slug of magnetized pellets shot forward with a loud roar and impacted the worm right in the face. I could barely even blink before the worm lit up like I had force fed it high intensity Christmas lights.
If it wasn’t so short lived, I might have had a future as a rave organizer.
I do believe your weapons test was a success?
Targets Eliminated! Model Three x8 80 Model Eight 5 Total: 85 Reward: 985
I twirled around in a circle, “Oh, it was more than successful! I would say it’s downright criminal how powerful this gun is!”
I continued gushing about my new weapon for a reasonable four minutes before Pyri pushed me to start walking again, because of how the hive might out pace my ability to deal with it alone, which ‘was already a huge ask for a day one Vanguard’ in her words.
***
I mostly spent my time journeying across the corn stubble picking off the occasional Model Three, and once I caught a Model Nine burying itself down in the corn trash.
The Nines were frankly kind of terrifying out here. They could pretty much cover themselves over in the chaff and then use their own stealth on top of it. The first one actually was able to tackle me before I was able to shove my Amp-Thrower in its face and fry it.
My armor had thankfully saved me from anything major other than my pride, but it definitely made me focus a bit more.
I was treating this a bit too lightly considering the fact that I had mostly gotten lucky. I only had gotten the two injuries to speak of today, both had been mostly healed by the time I entered the BioShifter, and had completely healed and then some from there.
If it wasn’t for the fact most of the healing I did today was done for me, I probably would be completely exhausted by now. And if anything, I was starting to get tired. Even not being used my equipment still added weight on my back after all. Enhanced strength or no, it was still a lot to carry.
“Pyri, what do you think would be the best option to lighten up my load a bit?”
Assuming you don’t want to buy something, I would say the C-Foam launcher has the least likely chance of having use outside of what C-Foam grenades would provide in combat. Every other case could also be filled in by your weapons, or the antithesis can just ignore it.
More importantly, it weighs the most.
I thought for a few moments, the launcher had saved my life multiple times so far, but Pyri was right. Out here in the open it could be used as glue traps, but I had a shotgun that could put down an actual lethal trap instead. If the hive was underground, a sealed tunnel would just get dug around instead. And in combat a grenade would just completely outclass the launcher.
Pyri was right, it needed to be left behind.
I also didn’t want it destroyed either.
A flicker on my glasses brought me out of my thoughts, I had apparently just picked up another Nine crawling through the chaff to jump me.
A quick pull of the trigger, and the potential slayer of the dark tempest bringer was snuffed out like a match left to burn.
Target Eliminated! Model Nine 25 Reward: 1350
Now where was I? Oh yeah!
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
“Pyri will the antithesis fuck with the launcher if they happen across it?”
As long as it doesn’t harm a unit, and isn’t biomass, they wont touch it other than smell it because of your scent.
In short, it will be left alone as long as it doesn’t explode, in which case you won’t have to worry about it anymore.
Also you can easily buy another launcher if this one is lost.
“No Pyri, you always treat your tools with respect, you keep them organized, clean, and maintained, then they’ll do their jobs right. Which saves ya’ headaches and pain later on.”
I see… I think.
Chuckling to myself I responded, “Don’t worry Pyri, I’ll show you what I mean when we build something together for the first time.”
We shall see, any ideas on what the project will be for?
“Hmmmm, maybe like… another potato cannon?” Evie using that against me earlier had admittedly brought that back to my mind. “Think how far I could send a potato with a Protector grade pressure system!”
Why not something a bit more in line with your current weaponry? Magnetic rail weaponry is quite potent, and just as amusing to use for launching fist sized objects through the air.
“A railgun? But I couldn’t do anything involving potatoes with that unless- You mean a munition launcher!” The wheels in my head started turning as a basic idea of a blueprint formed in my head. I began muttering quietly as the plans started to form.
“Could make the frame of the kicker as large as possible without encumbering the user so it can launch a larger variety of payloads, and just larger quantities of smaller payloads! Proper handles in multiple locations for comfort, same with triggers, but with safeties so if I’m using one, it’ll lock the rest…”
***
After a few minutes of musing to myself. I crested over the last hill before reaching the field that was going to be harvested and what I saw pulled me out of it completely.
So much destruction.
All of the trucks were turned to their sides, the grain clearly eaten up. The cart and combine were both fine, but most likely only because they would’ve been near empty.
And finally, the blood.
My family’s blood.
It was splattered over multiple pieces of equipment
The worst splatters looked like there had been an attempt to wipe them away.
All in the same direction that something trying to lick it up would take.
No bodies, thankfully no Seven-zombies. Just blood, and discarded weapons.
It was so, so quiet.
I crouched down, and by muscle memory, did the trick Uncle Wyatt had taught me to check yield loss.
Wipe away a square foot of chaff.
Count the kernels.
One… two three… four… five six.
Bit over a bushel of loss per acre.
Standing up, I took off my helmet.
They were all gone.
It was so damn quiet.
I felt tears trace down my face.
I wouldn’t get to hear Nyra and Uncle Wyatt bicker again.
I wouldn’t have Aunt Randi’s cooking again.
I wouldn’t have Uncle Cy in my workshop asking me what latest device to take over the world I was building again.
I wouldn’t get to continue living with, or despite them, as my true self.
IT WAS TOO FUCKING QUIET.
I couldn’t hold it in anymore, I just, I screamed.
Nothing coherent.
Just something to fill the void out here.
Antithesis hearing me be damned.
I didn’t care.
“Could I have saved them Pyri?”
Spark that isn’t a healthy line of-
“Pyridae please…”
…No, they were almost assuredly dead by the time you even saw the antithesis at Homeplace. I’m sorry Spark.
“Uncle Cy said there was nothing on the forecast, how did they stumble upon a hive that had a Model Seventeen?”
I do not know dear, but I will be searching for visible evidence while you destroy the hive in question.
I wiped my eyes and sobbed, “This is bullshit, you know that Pyri?”
I swept my arm to indicate the horizon, “If this was closer to even a regular city, we would’ve had military support the second an alien stepped a toe out of the woods! Samurai, Army, or PMC!”
I made a fist, “Instead all we got was me getting lucky.”
“It’s horse shit, and it shouldn’t happen. This planet is our home, yet we can’t go two steps in the country without needing a weapon strapped to our belt otherwise an alien dog will snap our neck before we can even blink!”
I walked over to the combine and slammed both my hands into the side panel with a scream.
“I’ll do it my goddess damned self, I’ll put something together that will let us take back our planet, whether through total eradication, or at least slowing the damned things down until something can come through and bomb them to smithereens!”
I glanced around at the carnage surrounding me, cementing it into my memory.
“And I’ll do it without forgetting this. Without forgetting the people out here. Because this is where I grew up, and I’ll be damned if I let the antithesis have it without clawing it from us inch by bloody inch.”
I looked down at my helmet, and saw my reflection staring back.
“I’ve had enough of this, and we’re going to put a stop to it, and drag this whole rotten planet kicking and screaming.”
Ten minutes later I walked away from the scene of my family’s deaths. My C-Foam launcher left inside the cab for the grain cart tractor.
I still had a hive to kill, and they left a perfectly followable trail through the corn that still had to be harvested.
It was time to rip this whole thing out root and stem.
And I was absolutely spoiling for a fight.
***
I didn’t have to wait too long before I got what I asked for. A chunk of the main flock had split off and beelined straight for me.
Raising up my Trench Stormer, I sighted the center of the flock, and pulled the trigger. A web of crackling electricity appeared, careening right towards the birds that had too little time to pull out of their dive bomb.
I had a cruel smile plastered on my face behind my mask as it began to rain dead pigeons.
The very edges of the flock that were able to get around the web, actually did get to pull out of their dive bomb, and regroup.Only for them to dive bomb right towards me again.
I mean, If they wanted to serve themselves up on a platter anyways.
Ker-chunk
A second wave of electricity washed over the group, sending them off to whatever kind of afterlife antithesis have. I couldn’t sit around and enjoy the carnage though, I had more aliens to mop the floor with!
The aliens in question being a group of Model Fours flanking a Model Five that instantly began firing quills at me.
Running to the side, hopefully staying ahead of the wave of biochemical death, I yanked the mode arm all the way back and fired a round of unenergized buckshot right back at the group. The Fours didn’t get hurt that much, on account of their tentacles already moving forward to block the buckshot. The pellets ended up piercing through a few before losing their momentum and stopping.
Forgoing the trap I had set for now, I pumped the gun and fired again. The Fours continued to block as they rushed through three total rounds of pellets. I continued to make sure my position wasn’t in one spot to keep the Five from getting a lucky shot in.
That is, they continued to block until I sent out the pulse causing all of the pellets embedded in them to either discharge electricity right into the tentacles, or arc from Model to Model. This didn’t even include the pellets that had missed and landed around the Five,which got its own helping of electricity.
Wouldn’t want the giant walking thorn bush to feel left out after all.
This time I got to stand back and watch as the electricity kept dancing around the small battlefield creating its own little show.
Soon enough the electricity had fully grounded away, leaving eight corpses slumping to the ground.
“That felt nice, do the antithesis have a mailbox I can leave a thank you letter at?” I chuckled, “That fight was exactly what I needed to get back into the swing of things.”
I’m glad you were able to find enjoyment in this skirmish. I am sorry to say however, that there has been no known antithesis hive that grew a mailbox.
Targets Eliminated! Model Four x7 105 Model Five 20 Total: 125 Reward: 1475
I snorted, “Did you check Protectorate records for me?”
No, I didn’t have to, because antithesis don’t use mailboxes whatsoever. Also you might want to pay attention. You have incoming from above.
I looked skyward and found myself shivering in excitement, and a bit of fear.
Most of the Model Ones in the air were coming this way.
And judging by the look of some of those birds, not all of them were Model Ones.
They were larger, much larger.