lmost instinctively, Sarah aimed to fire, but an odd feeling gnawed at her, a feeling of something not being right. Her once-trusty gun seemed to falter, every shot missing its mark.
Observing closely, Sarah noticed that Ash's movement was peculiar, almost like an arc-walk but subtly different. She scoffed to herself—did he really think such a simple maneuver could evade her aim? Ridiculous.
Arc-walk patterns weren’t difficult for her to counter. Ash was an open book by now. With her highly trained reflexes, she adjusted to his rhythm, counting through every possible arc-walk variation in her head. Fixing her eyes on Ash’s movements, she waited for the right moment, aiming with deadly precision.
Now! Sarah pulled the trigger, but once again, her shot went wide as Ash seemed to instinctively veer off course at the last second. Could it be luck? Or something else?
A trickle of unease crept in as she realized her shots were becoming erratic. Her steady confidence began to waver. In desperation, she unleashed a series of shots, firing wildly in Ash's direction.
To her relief, one shot struck him in the left shoulder, causing him to stagger. Ash's soaked attire clung to him, his hands trembled, showing signs of exhaustion, and his breathing became labored. But he barely noticed, lost in his intense focus.
The world narrowed as Ash sprinted forward, oblivious to the impact. Rune’s teachings played like a mantra in his mind. His black Mech, though struck, surged forward with relentless speed.
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Sarah readied herself, frustration mounting. Each shot missed by a hair’s breadth, as Ash’s path became increasingly unpredictable.
When Ash was almost upon her, he let out a fierce shout, brandishing his magnetic sword as he closed in. Startled, Sarah froze momentarily, unsure if it was a trap. Her momentary hesitation cost her; Ash's blade slashed cleanly across her Mech’s neck, dealing a fatal blow.
In shock, Sarah sat in her floating chair, watching the networked VR headset hover as if nothing had happened. That reckless determination, his unwavering tenacity—it lingered, tugging at her curiosity.
At dinner, her father, Victor, noticed Sarah’s distant expression. Concerned, he asked, “Everything alright, Sarah?”
She blinked, pulled from her thoughts. “Oh… I met an unusual opponent today.”
Her father, an experienced Mech warrior, immediately perked up. “Really? Unusual in what way?”
Describing Ash’s relentless persistence, his many defeats, and eventual triumph, she saw her father nod approvingly. “This Ash sounds like he has real courage.”
As she described Ash’s strange maneuver—something like an arc-walk yet more erratic—her father’s face grew serious. He questioned her carefully about the details.
“If your description is accurate, Ash might be using what’s called the ‘Random Wave Leap,’” he said thoughtfully. “It’s a rare evasion technique usually performed only by seasoned warriors with high-level Mechs. It demands not only precise manual control but also an advanced Mech with computational power to support it.”
Sarah frowned. “But he was only using a Blackbird.”
“That’s exactly what’s intriguing,” her father mused. “For the Blackbird to execute a maneuver like that, he’d either have to manually override every control or somehow upgrade the onboard AI significantly.”
Still skeptical, Sarah asked, “If he knew such a move, why didn’t he use it from the start?”
Her father chuckled and awkwardly changed the subject, embarrassed. She sensed there was more to it, but couldn’t place it.