SILAS

Here they come. Bursting from the sand. Shiny chrome bodies gleaming in the sun, like lens flares as they cross my vision. Moving so fast I can't make out the minute details. They appear to be four-legged--big, skittering Sand Beetles. Their movements are partially facilitated by bursts of air-propulsion, boosting them out from under the sand, then across and along the surface of the dunes, like surfers on a wave.

They're fast. So fast even I have trouble tracking them.

The first of them reaches me in a flash, leaping toward me, launched by a loud blast of air, like a gunshot. For a split second, I can see the front of it. The Beetle comparison is more apt than I thought. It has a smooth, slightly domed back, and sharp-looking mandibles in the front, as if designed to grasp and latch on, perhaps even to kill on contact with those razored fangs. No eyes, just one dark, eerily-unintelligent camera lens.

Payload.

The word echoes in my mind, in the brief micro-second the Beetle has leapt from the sand and toward me, an airborne missile.

I'd been reaching for my sword, hoping to conserve the energy my arm cannon requires, especially with so many enemies converging on my position. But now, compelled by that one thought, intuition or otherwise, I opt for the cannon, firing off a small blast.

It strikes the Beetle dead center, and the bot erupts in a big gout of flames, spewing shrapnel.

I bring my arm cannon up in front of my face. Bits and chunks of metal debris ricochet off and away.

A narrow save. Even though I'd already detonated one of them with a blast, I hadn't considered that the explosion was by design. Sharp mandibles in the front, to latch on. Then...

Boom.

Well, shit.

I activate Salvo, aiming at another charging Beetle. Only, the bullets bounce harmlessly off the shell. Can't get past the armor.

I put Salvo away, saving my energy reserve. I bob and weave, avoiding the arcs of the Beetle as they jump toward me, letting off a blast here and there to destroy them in the air. With every explosion, there's new waves of heat on this already blisteringly hot day, and blasts of force that threaten to knock me off my feet. Meanwhile, in my peripheral, I can still see the one ship still hovering overhead. Waiting.

For what, I'm not sure. Surely, between the two Biodroids, they could easily gang up on me. I was having a hard enough time with the purple-eyed one to begin with.

Are they just playing it safe? Wearing me down bit by bit with throwaway fodder?

Yeah. Yeah, I think that's exactly what they're doing. They don't know what I'm capable of, not with any real certainty. All they know is they sent two guys, and neither of them came back.

It's a great plan, and you can't fault the execution. I'm not even sure when exactly these Beetle droids were deployed. Fired from the one ship, I assume. Dropped into the sand. While I was going after the Biodroid chick, after I knocked down her ship? While I was using the cover of those clouds of dust, that other pilot must have been doing the same. She did it all right under my nose. And the girl, she knew it was happening, too.

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This is all too easy for them. Meanwhile, here I am, my face beaded with sweat turned to grime from the dust, barely keeping up.

The trap is set. I need to cut the ropes, now, or it's all over. But how?

I slide down one of the dunes, rolling sideways to avoiding one of the Beetles as shoots at a horizonal arc from the sand. I blast it out of the air, turning my head to avoid the painful wave of heat from the explosion and flames. A piece of metal nicks my cheek, and I grit my teeth from the pain as a line of wet warmth runs down toward my chin like a tear.

They'll wait 'til I'm at my limit--or appear to be. Then they'll throw me a curveball. They'll distract me, before pouncing, so they can take me alive.

So how do get free? Break the sequence?

I leap away from the dune, suddenly, just as two more Beetles emerge from the sand. Big shiny bullets.

I blast one, then the other, using the explosion from the nearest one to boost my jump, landing with a skid atop a semi-flat stretch of ground.

I need to do something unexpected. That's what it is. If I defy the plan, I create a broken link in the chain. I have to take a risk.

It's like magic--not 'real' magic, if such a thing exists, but, you know, the rabbit-in-a-hat stuff. It only works because of misdirection. Because a magician is able to draw your focus away from the actual solution.

I'm being misdirected. And they didn't even have to try all that hard to do it. All they had to do was apply a little bit of pressure, get me scurrying.

Fuck that noise.

I start charging up a Level Two Blast, going for the big guns this time. My arm thrums and vibrates. Slats open up on the side, glowing, venting heat from the buildup to keep from damaging the rest of my body.

I can feel the charge building. Almost ready.

Now.

I'm surrounded by enemies on all sides. Exploding death-beetles. The purple-eyed chick, watching from across the way, close enough to attack me at any moment if she wants to. But I don't turn my gun on them. Instead I make myself vulnerable, for just a few seconds, as I aim at the sky, toward that ship. A dark, circling insect. An obnoxious bug that won't stay the hell off my monitor.

I can feel my guidance systems kicking in, getting a lock.

Almost...got it...

Something stabs me in the middle of my chest, just above the sternum. The best I can compare it to is the time I stepped on a nail while I was helping my dad put together the back porch. Only I can feel the penetration at four different points, like a diamond shape on my chest.

I reflexively look down at myself. It does indeed look diamond-shaped from this angle. Some kind of flat, palm-sized bot, clinging to me with spikes so sharp they seem to have pierced my actual armor, bypassing my defenses. Which means-

Hot lightning flows in through the spikes, searing my insides, turning my nervous system into a web of agony. Everything's twitching, every muscle extending, on end.

I'm...I'm too late.

The Level Two Blast fires off on it's own, out of my control. My legs give out. I slip down onto my knees. Still, somehow, I've got my torso upright.

Maybe, with enough effort, I can fight through this electrical attack, swat away this thing on my chest, and get to my feet. Only, just keeping myself somewhat upright is taking everything I've got. It's like I'm hitting this invisible wall, this giant hand pushing down on me.

Ahead, I can see the purple-eyed one rushing toward me, kicking up blasts of sand behind her with every stride. No mask--she likely sees no need for it anymore. A big smirk on her face. Long hair flowing behind her, mirroring the swirl and whip of her cape. Maybe it's the intense pain, but everything's starting to slow down. Every detail is hyper-vivid, etching itself in my my mind like an after-image, all of it melding together. The shiny Beetles scurrying around on the sand, glinting and flashing. The purple staff of light appearing in the Biodroid's hand as she runs. The blastwave of air shooting outward in every direction as she jumps, in a flying leap toward me, swinging her staff in a downward arc toward me. The small, oscillating blade to the side of me, zipping through the air, narrowly missing my arm cannon before slicing through the object stuck to my chest.

Wait, what.

Something--someone--shifts into view in front of me. Armor similar to mine, but a bit more boxy, especially in the shoulders. Wavy, sandy-blonde hair. shifting in next to me with incredible speed, smoothly drawing my sword out of it's scabbard, and sliding in front of me, his back to me, all in one quick move. Blocking the light staff with the sword.

It's Ethan. It has to be. And he just saved my fucking life.