"Watch where you shoot, you fools!" A well-dressed dwarf slaver runs between the vehicles, trying to bring order to the crowd of slavers who are firing their rifles at the two intruding rats. Several ride the turrets of the cars or the mobile artilleries to try to destroy them, but instead they only manage to score and slightly dent the Crocodile's surface armor. "If Deathmask sees his baby being harmed, he'll decapitate us all!"

But most of them don't even hear the dwarf, and continue firing at the pair of figures climbing up the left arm to the shoulder of the armor, where they are joined by the mechanics they recently brought in. The three rats disappear out the back, and the slavers rush around the Crocodile on both sides to apply a pincer attack. Shortly after reaching the front legs, a quick, small object rises from the rear of the armor.

"What is that sound?" asks the dwarf as he hears a buzzing sound getting closer and closer. He brings his face to the sound and jumps. He screams, stretches his hands out in front of his face as if that would make a difference, and tries to run, but his short legs don't go very far. The drone impacts, the payload explodes with a roar, and feathers and bloody debris rise from the billowing smoke.

...

Erika laughs, the controller screen now showing pure static and a flashing NO SIGNAL sign. She returns the controller to the bag and walks through the door where Ash and Chester went, closing it behind her, and turning the valve firmly so it's hard to open on the other side. The ascent is diagonal, has a ladder that Erika climbs, and reaches the cockpit.

Ash holds his hand over his nose. Chester and Erika are used to the stench.

The floor is latticed. The walls and ceiling are a sphere, a fusion of different metals, with tight joints, but rustic and easy to locate by eye. Ceiling spotlights illuminate the cabin. An industrial-strength air conditioner keeps the Crocodile's temperature stable, which would otherwise cook its pilot alive. Fans blow carbon dioxide away into the ventilation ducts. Chains keep the reclining seat afloat, and in front of it hangs a helmet for human-machine connection. Three large screens occupy the front of the cabin, which are currently turned off because the shielding is at rest. But perhaps the most striking thing in the cockpit (and what disgusted Ash so much), is the charred corpse lying on the pilot's seat. His head is missing, and remnants of burnt gray matter still stain and hang from the inside of the hull.

"And this...?" Chester asks.

"Some chainman... He must have slipped away and tried to tame the Crocodile, perhaps to stage a coup.... But he failed"

"Obvious" says Erika.

Ash walks past the stiff without seeing him, and turns on the screens. Each of the monitors shows 9 split screens, each sector, a camera, offering a 360-degree perspective around the Crocodile. The slavers are seen surrounding the machine and looking for a way in. Ash sweeps the sweat from his brow with his hand and looks at his kidnappers. Chester and Erika exchange glances, and nod, both understanding that there is only one way out. They bring their fists together.

"Scissor, paper, stone!" they exclaim in unison.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

Chester pulls out rock. Erika always pulls out scissors, perhaps betrayed by conscious desires.

"Shit..."

"Yes!" Lancaster celebrates with his fist in the air.

Ash gawks at the sight of them.

Chester removes the stiff from the stall, he needs to apply force, the corpse is stuck, and when it hits the floor it makes a crunching sound, internal juices gush out of the cracks and slide down the grating until they stain the surface of the air conditioner. Erika assists by fingering the crusty debris off the hull, then tightening the shackles on the Lancaster's legs and hands, intended to keep him still in the seat.

"Stay strong" Erika removes his visor and looks him straight in the eye. "If you explode, I don't know what I'll tell the princess"

"Tell her I died like a man!"

"I'll tell her that you bled to death when a horse fucked you in the ass!

"Hey!"

Erika smiles, but soon her countenance changes to a more serious one, and in response Chester's too.

"You know she's in love with you, right?"

Chester nods. His scarlet eyes linger on Erika's blue ones.

"I'm no good for her..."

"Neither am I. But here we are, doing the best we can"

"That's right... Trying not to screw up"

"And barely making it"

They both force a smile.

Erika keeps the glasses, the katana, and takes a step back. Ash proceeds to place the helmet on the Lancaster, the steel guards the blue mane and the transparent visor covers his gaze. Chester closes his eyes, endures how slimy the device feels, and waits for the armor to activate. Ash runs to the back of the seat and turns on the two rows of 10 switches located on the back. The rumble of the reactor being stoked echoes through the cabin, along with the vibration of the atomic power starting up.

Chester does not feel or hear anything of what is happening, the helmet, recognizing that he has a pilot available, acts and isolates more and more of his senses. The main computer, which is the Crocodile's brain, sends out electrical impulses that merge with Chester's neural signals, stimulating and manipulating the area in charge of sleep cycles. In his head, Chester counts down from thirty. It is in exactly 30 seconds when it is time to open his eyes. One second more and he would end up asleep, one second less and it would be time to restart. The key is to remain in a state called: Pre-wakefulness.

That initial phase is terrifying for anyone trying such helmets for the first time. How the incubus spell robs you of your strength, sensations and mood, it is almost like being drugged or dying. The key is not to panic, to understand that decay is part of the process, and to react when the mind is optimal to establish connection. It is the second phase that terrifies even professional pilots, especially when it is time to mount a new armor or very accustomed to another pilot. The mourning of the machines is long-lasting.

The Lancaster reacts at the right second. He opens his eyes, they move fast and uncontrolled. Pupils grow and shrink, assaulted by impulses no one else can see. The blood rushes to his face, which writhes in anguish. The body tenses, sweats, and muscles swell. The shackles squeak as the man's instinctive search for a release from the seat. Despite the obvious torture to which he exposes himself, no sound blooms through Chester's clenched teeth.

"It won't hold. We have to disconnect it" Ash wants to turn off the shielding.

But Erika stops her with a fierce look.

"He'll do it"

Ash hesitates, but she can't get close with the slayer giving her that murderous grimace. The creak of a door opening alerts the women. Threatening voices come from the stairwell duct. Erika pulls a belt of grenades from the bag, unlatches one with her teeth, throws the cluster into the hole, then drops to the floor with her hands over her ears. Ash imitates her.

Like a necklace of flowers, the strap of explosives ends at the neck of the cadet leading the ascent. He takes a second to process what happened, and another to let out a panicked scream.

The duct throws up a flaming thunderclap. The Crocodile trembles. The sole surviving slaver recoils, coughing and cursing, bathed from head to toe in the remains of those ahead. Outside, the cadeneros look for an alternative way to invade, now that the main entrance to the cabin has proven to be complicated.