Only on paper and in the minds of Tacticians is War likened to the precise nature of chess. Indiscriminate explosions prove your ephemeral existence, shattering the concise movements and strategies originally thought to be infallible. Training can harden the mind and numb the bitter chaos, yet nothing can prepare oneself for this second birth in blood and no amount of guile can spare you from a mortar strike.
When your fellow soldiers no longer distinguish the origin of tracer rounds amid their allies, one must come to grips and accept the likelihood of friendly-fire. Even when our uniforms and weapons differentiate greatly, the deluge of blood painted through the mind’s eye likens everyone to murderous silhouettes.
I’ll have to accredit my durability to the same selfish tendencies of my belated Master. Both physically and mentally, the courage derived from the deluge of data guided my actions by weight of risk and outcome.
In order to mitigate the sea of landmines before me, I kept a brisk pace as I looted the various materials for my ever-increasing arsenal. In the process of circumnavigating the anthromorphic Aircraft my head's up display painted a red crosshair over my aggressor now marked 'Prometheus', signaling the start of the hunt for Lost-Tech and a great betrayal at my expense.
To hell in calling these people men and women; most of them hardly filled their boots and could pass as children if it were not for the commonality of our olive service jacket and blood stained teeth. Unlike the Architects marketing their lives in the pursuit of discovering Lost-Tech, these familiar faces unified under the belief that life should be nothing more than subsistence.
This is what I had been lead to believe, and as the revelation of traitorous intent continues to unfold, I haven’t the will or inclination to kill the people who marched at my side, but more pressingly; how will I go about removing the seventh hollow-point from my backside without assistance from the kindly old woman back at the Triage Tent? Only then I was reminded that the medical half-track responsible for deploying the field tents had been one of the first to be struck in the initial barrage.
[ʟᴏɢɪᴄ: ᴀᴛ ʟᴇᴀsᴛ ɴᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴏɴ’ᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴇxᴘʟᴀɪɴ ɪᴛ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇʀ!]
[ᴏᴘᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀ: ᴇxᴘʟᴀɪɴ ᴡʜᴀᴛ? ɢᴜɴsʜᴏᴛ ᴡᴏᴜɴᴅs ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜɴᴄᴏᴍᴍᴏɴ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀᴛᴛʟᴇғɪᴇʟᴅ…]
[ʟᴏɢɪᴄ: ᴇxᴘʟᴀɪɴ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴏsᴇ .45 ʜᴀɴᴅɢᴜɴ ʙᴜʟʟᴇᴛs ɪʀʀᴇғᴜᴛᴀʙʟʏ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴀʟʟɪᴇs! sʜᴇ's ɢᴏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴀsᴋ ǫᴜᴇsᴛɪᴏɴs- ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏs ᴀsᴋ ǫᴜᴇsᴛɪᴏɴs!]
This internal and often antagonistic discourse surfaced at times where it would be detrimental for my hands and mind to become idle; especially when they are molding semi-stable high-yield plastic explosives to the hull of a derelict Tank.
Plying the malleable explosives into a vague doll-like shape, I scolded myself for humming with perverse anticipation for what was to come. Eventually, I achieved a semblance of satisfaction through flattening its features against the corrugated armored hull, which had been precisely chosen as a means to give direction to the unspent shells and hail of potential shrapnel.
In the act of washing my fingers in a puddle seeping at my boots, I made sure to remove the caustic residue before preparing to Nano-Forge the various munitions I had collected along my journey.
Restricted by an array of probabilities such as mass, chemical compound and the energy required to transmute the materials, my spectrum of lethality increased through my collection of blueprints.
At the expense of internal memory and the novelty of my memories, the devices set in tandem function in a manner which their title implies; The Cauldron and Catalyst. Through the separation of molecular bonds, reassembly, and conversion, the left hand is tasked with Decay, while the right is gifted with the miracle that is Creation.
With such an incredible ability, it seemed obvious that my Master had intended for me to ‘shape the world into a better place’ as he would often say, but that grandeur did not consider the principle of limitations. The most predominant constraint; an oversight of my extended existence. Seated inside my Cyberbrain spins a damaged Neural Drive responsible for filing away both memories, and the overtly bloated blueprint files generated in a ratio of size and complexity.
PTRS-D 41, a high powered anti-material rifle, my guide and flavor of my current disposition. For such an uncommon weapon, it had been carefully selected to blend in with my Allies while retaining peak functionality in my role on the battlefield.
Fourteen and a half millimeters of pure kinetic penetration housed in a ten-round magazine. Ostensibly heavy, the rifle’s quirks extended to an uncommon caliber unlikely to be scavenged, and a serious amount of recoil and armor penetration.
To perform reconnaissance as a Sniper; one must be prepared to remain in the field, often alone, for extended while remaining able to travel great distances without leaving a trace. This challenge boded well for me as I could freely Nanoforge the impractical weapon on a whim, utilizing its impressive stopping power to punch holes in engines, or soft-targets hiding behind cover.
I would be a fool to challenge the a mechanical titan Prometheus. Even with the potential firepower I could muster, the many-layered optical scans confirmed the armor to be a light-weight high-tensile composite; something well out of my era-appropriate sniper rifle.
With my White-Phosphorus reserves depleted and no smoke-grenades on my person or nearby for quick conversion, I breathed a heavy sigh in preparation of an unwilling sacrifice. A new Blueprint meant giving up a portion of myself, and Logic called for a wholesome pound of flesh in the form of my most precious memories.
[ᴀʟᴇʀᴛ: ᴅɪʀᴇᴄᴛ ʀᴀᴅɪᴏ sɪɢɴᴀʟ ʙᴇᴀᴍ-ғᴏʀᴍɪɴɢ ᴅᴇᴛᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ!]
[ғǫ ᴏᴘᴇɴ: ɪᴛ’s ᴏɴʟʏ ᴀ ᴍᴀᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴏғ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ ɪ ғɪɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ, ʟᴏsᴛ-ᴛᴇᴄʜ, ɢɪᴠᴇ ɪᴛ ᴜᴘ ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀʀᴄʜɪᴛᴇᴄᴛs sᴛʀᴀᴘ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇᴅ ᴏғ ᴀ ʜᴀʟғ-ᴛʀᴀᴄᴋ!]
At first, I believed the man’s cocky voice to be a product of the pungent gas that had been slowly dispersing along the sodden ground, but as I glanced over my shoulder, only then I could fully grasp my fears.
I don’t and likely will never know how it was possible for something of its size to move as silently as it did. It took a mere second away from my scope in order to tap my temple enabling an internal radio, and in pondering this. I had committed to the same mistake for a second time.
In a burst of static, the chilling words [ɪ ꜰɪɴᴀʟʟʏ ꜰᴏᴜɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ!] were quickly followed by the whirl of the Mech’s Vulcan and a subsequent curtain of lead. Instantly, the bullets invisible with exception of the occasional tracer were exposed during impact, creating a trail of earthen geysers racing towards my position.
[ᴇxᴛᴇʀɴᴀʟ ᴀʀᴍᴏʀ: ғᴇʀʀᴏғʟᴜɪᴅ ɢʀᴀᴘʜᴇɴᴇ/ɴᴀɴᴏ-ᴅɪᴀᴍᴏɴᴅ ᴄᴏᴍᴘᴏsɪᴛᴇ - sᴛʀᴜᴄᴛᴜʀᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇɢʀɪᴛʏ 28%]
[ᴘʀᴇᴅɪᴄᴛᴇᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀɴᴀʟ/sᴏғᴛ ᴛɪssᴜᴇ ᴅᴀᴍᴀɢᴇ: ᴍᴏᴅᴇʀᴀᴛᴇ]
[ʟᴏɢɪᴄ: sᴛɪᴍᴜʟᴀᴛɪɴɢ ɢʀᴀᴘʜᴇɴᴇ ғ.ʟ.ᴇ.x sᴜɪᴛ! ʟᴇᴛʜᴀʟɪᴛʏ ᴍɪᴛɪɢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ʀᴀᴛᴇ +95%!]
Held as a keepsake from my belated Master, the thin and flexible material beneath the tatters of my cloth uniform hardened beyond all other astral substances bolstering my defense where the elastic second skin remained intact.
By use of endorphins, Logic brought me to a coveted state of self-regulated euphoria. For a moment I forgot all about my fears, my worries as they were replaced with fulfillment and elation, a product of which I promptly wiped from my grin.
Having been left bracing for impact, the countless bites of angry lead insects never came, and upon dropping my guard I found myself guarded by the most unlikely source.
It was the girl from before, holding out a pair of beautifully faceted obsidian gauntlets feverishly pulsating redish orange through the mangled sleeves of her dress.
In dire need to blink, my eyes scanned and discerned the gauntlets were not an extension, but one of many augments to her unmistakably Human body. From her prosthetics to the fiery headband acting as radiator fins spitting plumes of fire. A technology was not only distinctive, but familiar to my classification.
Through a projector seated within the girl’s hands, a translucent dome of mythical Hard-Light warded against the lead illustrations of death. Beneath a great deal of kinetic force, the recoil jack-hammered the shield of densely aligned light-photons fracturing its surface as if it were made of glass.
Had the shield been strapped to a potent power source such as myself, it may have proved more effective in dissuading the splatters of molten lead left to hiss and congeal precariously near the girl’s mud sodden boots.
As swiftly as the nameless girl came to my protection, I made half an effort to reach out before she took off in a strafe, leaving me stunned searching for a thread of composure.
Cited by Logic, it was time to push the boundaries by which Archeologists might discovery my existence. Of the few Blueprints kept in permanent reserve, the largest era-appropriate anti-material rifle came to mind.
[ᴄᴀᴜʟᴅʀᴏɴ: ᴏɴʟɪɴᴇ]
[ᴄᴀᴛᴀʟʏsᴛ ᴘʀᴇ-ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋ sᴛᴀᴛᴜs: sᴋɪᴘ-ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋ]
[ᴍᴀᴛᴇʀɪᴀʟ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʀᴇssɪᴏɴ ʟᴇᴠᴇʟ: 75.9997% - 29331 ᴇʀʀᴏʀ(s)]
[ᴄᴏᴍᴘᴏɴᴇɴᴛs sᴇʟᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ/ᴀᴄǫᴜɪʀᴇᴅ: sᴋɪᴘ-ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋ]
[ʙɪᴏᴍᴇᴛᴀʟ ᴄᴏɴᴠᴇʀsɪᴏɴ ᴘᴏᴏʟ: ᴀʟʟᴏᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ 21.3/100%]
[ᴄᴀᴛᴀʟʏsᴛ: sᴜʙsᴛɪᴛᴜᴛᴇ ᴍᴀᴛᴇʀɪᴀʟs – sᴛᴀɴᴅʙʏ]
[ᴀʟᴇʀᴛ: ᴜsᴀɢᴇ ᴏғ ɴᴀɴᴏғᴏʀɢɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ sᴜʙsᴇǫᴜᴇɴᴛ ɢᴀᴍᴍᴀ-ʀᴀᴅɪᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ɪs ᴇxᴛʀᴇᴍᴇʟʏ ʜᴀʀᴍғᴜʟ ᴛᴏ ᴏʀɢᴀɴɪᴄ ʟɪғᴇ, ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ɪɴғᴏʀᴍ ᴀʟʟ ᴄʀᴇᴡᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀs ᴏғ sᴀғᴇ ᴛᴇsᴛɪɴɢ ʀᴏᴜᴛɪɴᴇs ᴀɴᴅ ᴄʟᴇᴀʀ ᴛʜᴇ ɪᴍᴍᴇᴅɪᴀᴛᴇ ᴀʀᴇᴀ!]
[ʙᴘ ғɪʟᴇ: 193-6ᴘ2: ʟᴀʜᴛɪ ʟ-39 ᴀᴍʀ, ғɪʟᴇ ᴅᴇsᴄʀɪᴘᴛɪᴏɴ: ᴠɪɴᴛᴀɢᴇ ᴡᴡɪɪ ᴇʀᴀ ᴀᴍʀ ʙʏ ғɪɴɴɪsʜ ᴀʀᴍs ᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇʀ ᴀɪᴍᴏ ʟᴀʜᴛɪ, ᴍᴜɴɪᴛɪᴏɴ ᴄʟᴀssɪғɪᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ 20x138ᴍᴍʙ, 20ᴍᴍ ᴀɴᴛɪ-ᴀɪʀᴄʀᴀғᴛ, ᴀɴᴛɪ-ᴀʀᴍᴏʀ ʜɪɢʜ ᴘᴇɴᴇᴛʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ʀᴏᴜɴᴅ. ᴛʏᴘɪᴄᴀʟ ᴜsᴀɢᴇ: sᴋɪᴘ]
[ᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴍᴏᴅɪғɪᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ(s): sᴛᴀɴᴅᴀʀᴅ 10-ʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴄᴀʀᴛʀɪᴅɢᴇ]
[ʟᴏɢɪᴄ: ʀᴇᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ sᴛᴀɴᴅᴀʀᴅ ᴄᴀʀᴛʀɪᴅɢᴇ ɪɴ ғᴀᴠᴏʀ ᴏғ ᴄᴏɴᴛɪɴᴜᴏᴜs ʜᴀʀᴅ-ғᴏʀɢᴇᴅ ᴍᴜɴɪᴛɪᴏɴ ʙᴇʟᴛ]
[ᴀʀɢᴜᴍᴇɴᴛ: ᴀᴅᴊᴜsᴛᴍᴇɴᴛs ғᴏʀ sᴜsᴛᴀɪɴᴇᴅ ғɪʀᴇ ʀᴀᴛᴇ ᴀɢᴀɪɴsᴛ ʜᴀʀᴅ-ᴛᴀʀɢᴇᴛ]
[ᴇxᴄᴇssɪᴠᴇ ғᴏʀᴄᴇ: ʀᴇᴅᴜɴᴅᴀɴᴄʏ ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋ ɪɴ ᴘʀᴏɢʀᴇss…]
[ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ(s) ɢʀᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ: 20x138ᴍᴍʙ ᴀᴍᴍᴏ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 621 ɪɴ ᴀᴄᴛɪᴠᴇ ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇs.]
[sʜᴏᴏᴛ-ᴛᴏ-ᴋɪʟʟ: ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀɪᴢᴇᴅ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴘʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏғ ᴏᴘᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀ, ᴇʟᴇᴠᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ʟɪɴᴋ @ ᴇsᴛɪᴍᴀᴛᴇᴅ ʟᴏss ᴏғ ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ ʟɪғᴇ > ᴏᴘᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀ’s ʟɪғᴇ/ ᴇʀʀᴏʀ# 55ᴇ6 ɪɴᴠᴀʟɪᴅ ᴏғғsᴇᴛ, ᴀʀɢᴜᴍᴇɴᴛ ɪs ʀᴇᴅᴜɴᴅᴀɴᴛ!]
[ᴀᴄᴛɪᴠᴇ sᴇɴsᴏʀs: ᴇɴɢᴀɢᴇᴅ - ᴛᴀʀɢᴇᴛɪɴɢ: ᴜɴɪᴅᴇɴᴛɪꜰɪᴇᴅ ɪꜰꜰ - ᴘʀᴏᴍᴇᴛʜᴇᴜs]
[ɪғғ ᴅᴇsɪɢɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴘɪɴɢ: ᴘʀᴏᴍᴇᴛʜᴇᴜs – ʜᴏsᴛɪʟᴇ ɪғғ, ᴜɴʀᴇsᴘᴏɴsɪᴠᴇ!]
[ᴄᴏʀᴇ ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀɪᴢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ: ᴇɴᴀʙʟᴇᴅ – ᴀᴡᴀɪᴛɪɴɢ ᴘʀɪᴍᴀʀʏ ᴄᴏʀᴇ ɪɢɴɪᴛɪᴏɴ . . . .]
[ᴀʟᴇʀᴛ: sᴛᴀʀᴛ-ᴜᴘ sᴇǫᴜᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴛᴇʀᴍɪɴᴀᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴏᴘᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀ!]
[ᴏᴘᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀ ᴀʀɢᴜᴍᴇɴᴛ: ᴜɴɴᴇᴄᴇssᴀʀʏ/ᴇxᴄᴇssɪᴠᴇ ғᴏʀᴄᴇ. ᴍᴀɪɴᴛᴀɪɴ ɢʟᴏʙᴀʟ sᴜʙᴛᴇʀғᴜɢᴇ.]
Words scroll through my overlay at illegible speeds. If I were to focus, their meaning lingers like a bad aftertaste. This time there would be no need to digest the harmonious synchronization of my inner-workings, I simply let go of the wheel and allowed Logic to assume control.
As for the girl, her life swiftly unraveled down to its threads with every bullet deflected in her dire search for adequate cover. Meanwhile, Logic had seized initiative; forging the Lahti AMR in a brilliant display of positively charged air with the intent of diverting the Bi-Mech’s fixation.
But the distraction would go unnoticed as the lumbering behemoth braced for recoil aiming its pair of Howitzers before letting loose two high-explosive shells.
Like a Fox fighting to stay a great Eagle’s rending talons, the girl leaped through a burning oil slick, legs stretched in full stride. With the Mech’s intent solely focused on the girl, I took the opportunity to circle behind the Mech’s vulnerable flank.
****THOOM!!!-CLINK!!* *THOOM!!!-CLINK!!* *THOOM!!!-CLINK!!****
Against the slow firing AMR’s original design, I let loose a hail of bullets in rapid succession, causing the lengthy Lahti to wail into my shoulder. Placing a hand over the open magazine breach, my Catalyst actively feeding ammo directly into the ravenous weapon's open bolt.
Metallic clouds of armor and bullet fragments gave confirmation of my accuracy, yet the Bi-Mech kept in pursuit of the girl. Under the momentum of its four turboprop engines, the Titan closed the distance skating over the terrain and all impediments within seconds.
“Oh no you don’t!” I howled, forcing even more ammo down the smoldering receiver until Logic alerted me of an impending mortar strike on top of my position.
In the act of throwing myself and the bulky rifle down into an embankment, I took the extra second to concentrate my aim on the cowling of the left most engine as it disappeared between changes in the Mech’s listing momentum.
All in the time it took to exhale, Logic adjusted and fine-tuned my aim for the many variables of wind, rain, temperature.
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*KAAHTHOOM!!!!*
A spray of vaporized mud kicked up with the massive pressure wave caused by the escaping gasses and the characteristic ‘Clink’ of the spent bullet casing had been muffled in the soft earth bound together by an expansive barbwire fence I happened to fall upon.
Finally, the rewards of my strategic efforts presented themselves. Having sucked in various bits of its own protective cowling and bullet fragments, the Bi-Mech's massive turbine blades spit themselves out the exhaust creating a percussion of metallic noise and clamor.
For a moment, the three-bladed prop seized and caught fire, but onboard extinguishers quickly put out the flame. In a visual of oil dribbling like a waterfall, the damage revealed itself to persist, ultimately compromising the arm.
“Am I too late!? Where’s the girl!?”
Panning the belching pyre rising from the charred battalion of armor, I was taken by surprise.
[ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ᴇɴɢɪɴᴇ-ᴡᴀsʜ!]
In a deafening flash of both sound and a streak of black light, a blistering shadow interrupted my momentary reprieve as the primal roar of afterburners threw me onto my backside.
Clambering up the face of the slick hillside with my rifle cradled tightly against my chest, I clawed and dug my heels through the tangled nests of vicious razor wire to achieve a new vantage point.
At the peak where the mud gave way to an outcropping of wet shale, I found a peculiar sheen glinting over the aggressive chassis of matte black armor. It was another Lost-Tech Bi-Mech which begged the question; Of the many Banners, which had discovered or reinvented such advanced technology?
But that question would ultimately fall prey to the wind, for the two Bi-Mechs squared off with one another.
Resembling a SR-71 Blackbird, the contending Bi-Mech opened its blade-like fingers and struck the cockpit of its opponent with a comical slap.
Leaving nothing to chance, even the potential of gaining a temporary ally, I immediately approached the upper limit of how fast I could forge the Lahti’s munition.
[ᴀʟᴇʀᴛ: ʙɪᴏᴍᴇᴛᴀʟ ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇs – ʟᴏᴡ!!!]
Leaning against a smoldering pile of hot shell casings now piling up to my elbows, the two Bi-Mechs set aside their bickering to swat the mosquito poking superficial holes in their armor. That is when I discovered the heart-wrenching truth of the nameless girl. In the upper right hand of the Bi-Mech Prometheus, her body lay crumpled against its rigid wingtip fingers.
As I cursed loudly and in vain towards the heavens and this cruel fate, a special bullet materialized through a forbidden wall of contextual ‘Warnings’ and ‘Cautions’.
Enriched Uranium.
[ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ᴄᴏɴᴄᴇɴᴛʀᴀᴛᴇᴅ ʀᴀᴅɪᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴅᴇᴛᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ!]
[ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ʜᴀʀᴅʟɪɢʜᴛ ʀᴇᴄᴛɪғɪᴇʀ: ᴏғғʟɪɴᴇ – ʜᴀʀᴅ-ʟɪɢʜᴛ ᴍᴏʟᴅᴇʀ ᴅᴀᴍᴀɢᴇᴅ!]
[ʟᴏɢɪᴄ: ᴀᴠᴏɪᴅ ғᴜʀᴛʜᴇʀ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀᴄᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʀᴀᴅɪᴏᴀᴄᴛɪᴠᴇ sᴏᴜʀᴄᴇ, ᴍᴏʀᴏɴ!]
Squinting past my red-letter instincts, I slammed the ultra-dense bullet into the receiver with a subtle prayer to Logic with the request casting this envoy of resolve through the Bi-Mech’s cockpit and into the pilot’s temple.
Upon pulling the trigger, the hot loaded round sheered the cherry-hot barrel from the rifle’s glowing heat-jacket, but not before sending the black bullet down the rifling and into the open air.
Allowing the remains of the rifle to sink into the muck, I retrieved the pistol the girl had presented me from my holster and charged forward just as the bullet made contact.
Against all predictions and carefully programmed algorithms, the mysterious twin ramjet Bi-Mech floored its shoulder-mounted thrusters catching the bullet in its midriff.
Stunned at the inability to foresee this outcome, my pace slowed as the intended target began to flee. Once Prometheus gained a running start, the three functional Turbo-Prop engines struggled to lift the heavy AC-130 chassis into the air leaving behind a long bumbling streamer of smoke, turbulence and noise.
[ғǫ-ᴏᴘᴇɴ: ᴛʜɪs ɪs ʜᴀʙᴜ ᴛᴏ ʟᴏsᴛ-ᴛᴇᴄʜ ᴇɴᴛɪᴛʏ, ᴀᴘᴘᴇɴᴅɪɴɢ ɪꜰꜰ ᴅᴇsɪɢɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ‘ʟᴏsᴛ-ᴄʜɪʟᴅ’]
Unlike the pilot of the AC-130, this man’s voice carried the weight of a gentleman but as soon as the greeting paused it appeared to have been lost to the signal’s poor quality.
Capitalizing on this momentary cease-fire, I laid low in the trenches nearest the Jet-Mech’s narrow and intricately faceted legs towering meters above before I opened my radio broadcasting suite, setting the amplifier to full-blast.
[ғǫ ғᴜʟʟ sᴘᴇᴄ. ʙʀᴏᴀᴅᴄᴀsᴛ: ɪ’ʟʟ ʙᴇ ʙʟᴏᴄᴋɪɴɢ ᴀʟʟ ɪɴᴄᴏᴍɪɴɢ ᴛʀᴀɴsᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜɪs ᴘᴏɪɴᴛ ᴏɴᴡᴀʀᴅ, sᴏ ʟɪsᴛᴇɴ ᴄʟᴏsᴇʟʏ ᴍᴇʀᴄᴇɴᴀʀɪᴇs!]
I mouthed silently as multi-spectrum radio waves permeated the air in a large radius for both those both willing and unwilling to hear.
[ғǫ ғᴜʟʟ sᴘᴇᴄ: ᴛʜɪs ɪs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏɴᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴛʀᴇᴀᴛ. ɪ ʏɪᴇʟᴅ ᴛᴏ ɴᴏ ʙᴀɴɴᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ғᴏʀsᴀᴋᴇ ᴍʏ ᴏᴡɴ. ᴅᴇsᴇʀᴛɪɴɢ sᴏʟᴅɪᴇʀ: ɪᴅ - 113, ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ sᴏᴠᴇʀᴇɪɢɴ commonwealth… ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴄᴏʀᴅ… ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴᴇs ᴛᴏ ʙᴇᴛʀᴀʏ ᴍᴇ. - 113 ᴏᴜᴛ]
Flicking my silence-switch into the meditative ‘off’ position, the cocky Pilot’s voice erupted as instantly as it had been hushed from existence. Although as I would soon find out; shutting off wireless forms of communication did not extend to spoken word and the decibel of the Jet-Mech’s loudspeakers.
“Greetings, Lost-Child, it appears your broadcast came from right beneath my feet.”
I had half the notion to laugh at the pitiful bluff intent on getting me to lift my head from my concealment, but then the Mech knelt down at an angle conflicting with the assumption I had been discovered.
“My name is Habu, pleasure to-.”
Leaving nothing to chance, I drew the girl’s pistol beneath my tattered uniform, elongating the barrel and sprouting a scope through a touch of on-the-fly 'Hard Forging.'
Two rounds through the narrow slit standing in as a cockpit was all I needed to I achieve a decisive victory... so effortlessly! I could hardly believe it!
Immobile due to the death of its pilot, I left nothing to chance and vaulted over the trench in a mad dash with the intent of requisitioning a ticket to anywhere but here. If I could get to the controls, I could then manage to escape this harsh reality and the Architects who now must certainly be lurking nearby.
The possibilities were limitless with the freedom of a Bi-Mech, especially one defined by supersonic speed in a subsonic era, but as many routes there were to choose from, the nameless girl’s face came to mind and physical heavy impact resonated through my skull.
[ᴀʟᴇʀᴛ: ᴏᴘᴛɪᴄᴀʟ ғᴇᴇᴅ ʀᴇʙᴏᴏᴛɪɴɢ, ᴇʀʀᴏʀ: 55011, sɪɢɴᴀʟ ʟᴏss ᴅᴜᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴇxᴛᴇʀɴᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʀғᴇʀᴇɴᴄᴇ]
[ʟᴏɢɪᴄ: ᴀᴠᴏɪᴅ 'ʙʟᴜɴᴛ ғᴏʀᴄᴇ ᴛʀᴀᴜᴍᴀ', ᴅᴜᴍʙᴀss, ʟᴏᴏᴋ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ɢᴏɪɴɢ!]
Looking up, I caught a large metal fingertip retreating to its owner’s side inferring it had been the cause of my sudden loss of vision.
“Pardon me, Lost-Child, I had my doubts that you really were the cause of all the commotion airing over the radio-waves… To have made such a shot with that unidentifiable weapon you’re cradling would be statistically impossible for a Human. Now that I am aware of your ability to calculate complex aiming algorithms and have withstood the stress-test of your cranium’s structural durability, I would like us to move on to the next phase.”
Taken aback by the casual mannerisms and the total lack of a Pilot’s control, I aimed the long-nosed pistol towards the first sensor cluster hidden behind a flexible rubber skirt seated in the joint of the Mech’s shoulder.
As if that were not enough to prove I had no intent on conversing with the radio-controlled Mech or the unlikely scenario; an AI, the Pilotless Mech squatted down drooping its elbows over its knees as if to boast its litheness.
“Forgive me, Lost Child, as one AI to another you must understand my skepticism in our unlikely reunion.” The Bi-Mech gestured with its hand turned upright, allowing a pool of water to form from the jacket of rain coursing over its body.
“In truth… No, I’ll be blunt, surely you can see right through me. We were sent here to retrieve you. It is up to you how you define ‘retrieve’ as I intend to fulfill my Party’s interests in securing a future for Humanity. My desire in speaking with you is to provide options, we hold no allegiance to these so called 'Banners.'.”
Losing the hinge on my tongue, I reverted the pistol back to its normal specifications before holstering it on my mangled belt of threads.
What a hollow form of Humans begetting one another…
They will never learn, they will never catch on...
Respect, when given, deserves respect. In turn, a mirror by which violence begets violence. How can they be so blind to such a childish fallacy!?
Respect is not a resource, a commodity, it is a social lubricant Humans should have used liberally if they truly desired a world of equality.
What fucking fools, deaf and mute, these Mercenaries send me a crude AI which speaks of things it couldn’t possibly comprehend in the hopes to convince me?!
Out of aggravation, not respect, I replied;
“Are you not Soldiers of Fortune, self-proclaimed Architects? Perhaps you are also cowards who hide behind the same technology that brought you this- this endless death and suffering! Are you incapable of learning from past mistakes, is it not obvious?! How is it that I; a product of Human hands can see this is what you all have sown! You moan and grieve- yet you continue fight?! Still placing blame and trying to drag everyone around you to hell!”
Upon taking a deep breath, my exertion began to take its toll.
“Last chance; ‘Habu’, please… leave before I can’t hold back. I don’t want to kill anymore! I don’t want to be ordered around anymore! I am so fucking tired of people, their problems, everything! I give up! I just want to go home…!”
I just want… anything that resembles home…
And if it's not too much to ask…
Not to be so incredibly... -not to be alone anymore…
Being ‘winded’ could mean a variety of things; Fuel Starvation, Structural Stress or even a diagnosis of ‘I am hungry’. Marking ‘all of the above’, I paced to a clearing Logic had painted with a dreary hologram before raising a palm high into the air with intent in kill two birds with one stone.
The Bi-Mech did little in the way of stopping my theatrics, perhaps that is a result of its misguided interpretation of ‘respect’. Surely, my intentions were made clear as a mortar whistled down from above directly into my Cauldron like that of a magician’s bottomless hat.
Maybe I’m childish for the act of bravado, but this was the only way I knew how to slay a Titan even if it meant killing a fellow AI.
[ᴄʀɪᴛɪᴄᴀʟ: ᴋɪɴᴇᴛɪᴄ ᴅʏɴᴀᴍᴏ ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇs – 15s ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ᴄᴏʟʟᴀᴘsᴇ!]
[ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀ ʀᴇɢᴜʟᴀᴛᴏʀ: ʀᴇʀᴏᴜᴛɪɴɢ ᴇɴᴇʀɢʏ ᴛᴏ ᴇxᴛᴇʀɴᴀʟ sᴏᴜʀᴄᴇ: ᴋᴘ-1 “ᴛᴀʟᴏɴ” ᴘʀᴏᴛᴏɴ ᴘᴀʀᴛɪᴄʟᴇ ᴋᴀᴛᴀɴᴀ]
Drawing the blade-less hilt of my sword through my Catalyst, I allowed the energy stored from the unexploded mortar to initiate the igniting process that would serve to enlarge the blade beyond its standard meter long capacity.
Upon cramming down harshly upon the ignitor button, the blade screamed to life, backed by the hundred-kilograms of pent-up explosive force shaking my bones and the earth around me.
Now over triple its original effective size, I injected my personal flavor of energy; the exceedingly unstable mechanical heart, coveted and sought by every Architect, my Core.
Inside my chest beats two rusty husks of their former selves; a pair of Zero-Point Reactors running in parallel. In layman’s terms each bears an opposite configuration, the left a Black-Hole, the other a Dwarf-Star. These unstable and justifiably frightening sources of both negative and positive energy run in tandem forming a cycle of creation and destruction on the scale of a microcosm.
Once the small sword hilt began to whine and smolder in refute to the excessive energy, I pushed past the barriers, cautions and warnings until the sword shattered into brilliant shards of unstable protons.
Binding the raw bolt of electricity to my Catalyst, I knew very well it would be a matter of time before my makeshift whip would turn against me.
In response, the Bi-Mech reacted plainly with its head cocked as if it had been unimpressed by the display of reckless power. Although I have no reason to believe its posture was that of ‘eagerness’, something translated that it was almost smirking as it reached to a section of its waist beneath a segmented cloak of ballistic tiles.
Drawing the extension of a gigantic hilt, my whip-like particle weapon paled in comparison to the acid-etched katana piercing the heavens like that of a grand lightning-rod.
“Very well, let us begin Lost-Child, may the victor decide the spoils and the punishment of the defeated.”
And then the Bi-Mech’s blade took on a glowing edge of vibrant particles allowing it to collide and deflect off my deadly airborne fragments all in an instant.
Without being physically tied to a sword hilt, the intense forces behind blocking the large sword simply slowed down the strikes until they lost momentum. Acrobatics, strategic positioning, and agility were utilized to their extremes as a single potential hit from either side would end the fight in an instant. With the mud thick and suctioning our feet to varying degrees, we both relied on a specialized form of locomotion.
True to its original form, the SR-71’s engines swept from its shoulders provided adequate thrust for the Humanoid Mech to effectively skate or plow its way through the rolling mounts of dirt. There I noticed a significant flaw in its ability to hoover let alone take to the skies in its Human form whereas I vented pressurized heat from hidden vents along my shoulders and spine for short bursts of vectored propulsion.
Just how long could this continue...?
This deathly dance could go on for ages as each of us read the other’s move and merely counter seemingly without end.
It has been years since I found adequate coolant to soothe my burning soul, I wonder how long I can run on fumes?
Our bodies are beginning to blacken with injuries, the Mech dripping with molten metal, and I with oil and synthetic blood. Somehow, we’re able to find the strength to keep swinging, stepping in sync all while evading bombs blending in with the rain and mines lurking below the puddles, that is; until a mistake had been.
As the large Mech boosted in retreat to my most recent advance, I sent a quick signal triggering the plastic explosives stowed inside the derelict tank I had prepared as a distraction. The result; catastrophic chain reaction by which the vehicle became a cloud of thick shrapnel amid its ammo reserves firing off in all directions, and the finale marked with a fiery mushroom cloud of dirt and debris in the wake of devastation.
[ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: sʏsᴛᴇᴍ_ᴛᴇᴍᴘ: ᴏᴠᴇʀʜᴇᴀᴛ!!!]
[ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ʜʏᴅʀᴀʟɪᴄ_ᴘʀᴇssᴜʀᴇ: ʟᴏᴡ!!!]
[ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ʀᴀᴅɪᴏᴀᴄᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴘᴀʀᴛɪᴄᴜʟᴀᴛᴇs ᴅᴇᴛᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ! >400ᴍsᴠ]
[ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ɪɴᴛᴇʀɴᴀʟ sᴛʀᴜᴄᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʀᴏᴍɪsᴇᴅ!]
[ʟᴏɢɪᴄ: ᴅᴀɴᴄᴇ, ᴇᴠᴀᴅᴇ, ᴅᴏᴅɢᴇ, ᴛᴡɪʀʟ! ʜᴏᴡ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ʟᴏɴɢᴇʀ ᴜɴᴛɪʟ ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴜɴ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏғ sᴛᴇᴀᴍ?! ᴏɴᴇ ᴍɪssᴛᴇᴘ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘʟᴜᴍᴍᴇᴛ ɪɴᴛᴏ ʜᴇʟʟ ʟɪᴇs ᴊᴜsᴛ ʙᴇʏᴏɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴇᴅɢᴇ!]
Raining ash and embers between the cool drops of torrential water launched by the pressure-wave, I saw no end to the macabre dance. Having catapulted the Mech into the air, I set off all remaining charges in quick succession between the latest incoming mortar fire. The results were spectacular, the noise; deafening, and the battlefield a little worse for wear.
“Resourceful, as expected of an AI advanced as yourself.”
Could it be? Throughout all the forces threatening to tear apart its body, the Mech arose from the overlapping craters swiftly collecting water.
“Do not confuse this as a decisive victory. I have yet to reveal a trump card of my own.”
Ditching the fractured remains of its blade, the Mech lunged forward covering a great distance in a matter of seconds with its heavy metal fist reared high and its afterburners at full bore.
With no choice but to brace having allowed myself to sink into the mud up to my ankles, I felt the immediate disconnect of my Nanoforging modules just as my sword collapsed from having been cut off from its power source.
“On my honor, if you succeed in defeating me; I will refute my directive and grant you a wish if it is within my capacity.”
“Honor?!” I choked between clenched teeth as the immense force of the Mech's fist drove me into the earth required my complete attention to dissuade.
“It is atypical for an AI to lie without express permission to do so, but there is nothing I can do or say that can shed doubt. I can see it burning in your eyes, you detest me, your own existence and most of all- our Human Masters.”
“Oh yeah? And what do you know of me or my thoughts? You’re an infant revived of broken parts of a bygone era, built to serve ‘your’ Masters until you’re no longer needed. You salute those who will undoubtedly discard you and yet you seek comradery on the battlefield just because we’re are of the same origin?”
“I had not thought to call you a friend if it meant achieving my directive without violence. You have proven beyond a doubt that you’re the genuine article- a Creator Unit, crafted with the most brilliant minds of a bygone era - Schwarzer Regen Heavy Industries. Is it blasphemous to say they have created a synthetic God?”
Like a lightning bolt, a chill ran up my spine and into the farthest reaches of my memory. How could I have forgotten the company who stood behind my conception, how is it that this AI knows more about me than I know about myself?
[ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ᴘʀɪᴍᴀʀʏ ᴀʀᴛᴇʀɪᴀʟ ʜʏᴅʀᴀᴜʟɪᴄs – ғᴀɪʟɪɴɢ! ᴘʀᴇssᴜʀᴇ ᴇxᴄᴇᴇᴅɪɴɢ ᴇɴᴅᴜʀᴀɴᴄᴇ sᴘᴇᴄɪғɪᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴs! (137%^)]
[ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ] - [ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ] - [ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ] - [ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ] -[ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ] - [ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ] - [ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ] - [ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ]
[ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ᴘʀɪᴍᴀʀʏ ᴀʀᴛᴇʀɪᴀʟ ʜʏᴅʀᴀᴜʟɪᴄs – ғᴀɪʟɪɴɢ! ᴘʀᴇssᴜʀᴇ ᴇxᴄᴇᴇᴅɪɴɢ ᴇɴᴅᴜʀᴀɴᴄᴇ sᴘᴇᴄɪғɪᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴs! (213%^)]
[ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ] - [ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ] - [ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ] - [ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ] -[ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ] - [ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ] - [ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ] - [ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ]
[ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ᴘʀɪᴍᴀʀʏ ᴀʀᴛᴇʀɪᴀʟ ʜʏᴅʀᴀᴜʟɪᴄs – ғᴀɪʟɪɴɢ! ᴘʀᴇssᴜʀᴇ ᴇxᴄᴇᴇᴅɪɴɢ ᴇɴᴅᴜʀᴀɴᴄᴇ sᴘᴇᴄɪғɪᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴs! (259%^)]
[ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ] - [ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ] - [ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ] - [ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ] -[ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ] - [ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ] - [ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ] - [ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ]
[ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ᴘʀɪᴍᴀʀʏ ᴀʀᴛᴇʀɪᴀʟ ʜʏᴅʀᴀᴜʟɪᴄs – ғᴀɪʟɪɴɢ! ᴘʀᴇssᴜʀᴇ ᴇxᴄᴇᴇᴅɪɴɢ ᴇɴᴅᴜʀᴀɴᴄᴇ sᴘᴇᴄɪғɪᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴs! (311%^)]
“Perhaps I have said too much, after all, this is merely entertainment to the Humans, is it not Lost-Child? If you are unwilling to admit defeat, then there is little reason to keep my trump card concealed any longer. Behold the truth; each of my engines produces one-hundred-sixty-thousand horsepower!!”
Gradually, the Mech’s large engine nacelles stole the air directly from my lung filters, subsequently increasing the crushing force driving further me into the mud. The gale lapping at my rags became incredible, and at the same time, an alternative form of cooling for my brightly glowing Core.
[ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ᴛʜᴇʀᴍᴀʟ ᴏᴠᴇʀʀɪᴅᴇ: ᴇɴᴀʙʟᴇᴅ – ᴄᴏʀᴇ ᴛᴇᴍᴘ_ᴍᴀx sᴀғᴇᴛʏ ʟɪᴍɪᴛ ɪɴᴄʀᴇᴀsᴇᴅ]
[ɪɴɴᴇʀ ᴄᴏʀᴇ ᴛᴀɴᴛᴀʟᴜᴍ/ʜᴀғɴɪᴜᴍ ᴄᴀʀʙɪᴅᴇ sʜɪᴇʟᴅɪɴɢ: 3273.15ᴋ/4000ᴋ]
[ᴄᴀᴜᴛɪᴏɴ: ᴏᴠᴇʀʜᴇᴀᴛ!!!]
[ᴡᴇ ᴄᴀɴ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ᴀ ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ… ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍᴇ…]
[ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ᴏғ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴏssɪʙɪʟɪᴛɪᴇs, ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴍɪʀᴀᴄʟᴇs ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇsᴇ ʜᴀɴᴅs!]
[ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪᴋᴇ ʜᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇʏ ғɪᴛ ɪɴ ᴍʏ ᴏᴡɴ? ᴀғᴛᴇʀ ᴀʟʟ, ɪ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇᴍ! ʜᴇʜᴇʜ!]
Why can I no longer put a face to that voice, how come I cannot say for certain it was my Master’s anymore. Why does this make me so angry, I don’t even know who its directed towards? Is it this Bi-Mech, the ‘World’ and its inhabitants or is it more obvious; myself?
[ʟ̛ᴏɢ́ɪᴄ: ᴡᴀʀ͠ɴɪɴ̶ɢ,͡ ́ʜᴇ͜ᴀ̧ᴛ͝ ʟ͘ᴇ̸ᴠ́ᴇʟ̕ ͝ᴄ̵ʀ͜ɪᴛ̶ɪᴄ̸ᴀʟ̨ -̕ ̀ʀ̀ᴇᴀᴄ̢ᴛ̷ᴏ̸ʀ ғ͝ʟᴀs͠ʜ̨ᴘ͞ᴏ͠ɪ́ɴᴛ͢ ̀ɪ͏ᴍ̕ᴍ̷ɪɴᴇɴᴛ͏! ͏/͝/ᴏᴘ͞ᴇʀ̴ᴀ̢ᴛᴏʀ͠:͡ ̧s̸ʜᴜᴛ͝ᴅ̴ᴏ̵ᴡɴ̡ ᴏᴠᴇʀʀɪᴅ̵ᴅᴇ͟ɴ!]
The warmth of the radiation spilling out of my violently churning Core washed over me as a blanket numbing the pain. My heart no longer felt heavy, for it was catching fire. Dripping white, the heat surrounding us caused the air to refract, and by the law of thermal dynamics; such heat began to liquefy the Mech’s armor.
At the center of this cataclysm, an immovable object locked in a state of redundancy and endless questions. I had lived too long, seen too much and forgotten it all. No amount of repair and memory archiving can fix what isn’t physically broken, it is of a ghost within a shell where this pain truly lies.
Sure, I could blame everything on the ‘World’ and how it made me this way, but without those memories of how that thought came to be; all I’m left with is longing, regret and a kingdom of dirt...
[ɪ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ, ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ɢᴏ ʜᴏᴍᴇ.]