Cameron regained consciousness a few seconds later, no longer sitting in the cushioned metal chair with a heavy helmet strapped to his head. Instead, he was standing out in the middle of the field. Well, standing wasn’t the correct term, he’d decided. It was more like he was floating, suspended high above the ground, locked into place from an unknown force, as he stared fifty meters down the field to find Logan in the same situation.

“What the hell…” He muttered, trying to will his body to move, but alas, it was as if he was clamped in place, held by some invisible force that wasn’t quite ready to articulate him yet. In fact, the only movement he managed, was the frantic turning of his head looking around in a worried daze.

“Just relax!” Logan called out, pulling Cameron’s attention to him. His body was held aloft by the same invisible force that kept Cameron’s body prisoner, contorted into a pose of crucifixion.

“W-What’s happening?” Cameron called back, trying his best to settle the anxiety creeping up the back of his spine.

“It’s just part of the process,” Logan assured him, “Human bodies are a lot smaller to project, so they end up appearing first.”

Almost as if on cue, a robotic, feminine voice rang out overhead, filling the entire room with her cold and neutral tone.

“Pilot consciousness upload. Beginning frame projection.”

As soon as the voice finished speaking a hole on the side wall formed, opening up with a whirring sound. Once completely open, a black bulb protruded outward before a series a bright colored lights flashed across Cameron’s body, as well as the surrounding space. Lines of bright orange light began to take shape, forming sharp angular lines as the beams pulsed and drew something in the open air. It was only when he looked across at Logan, that Cameron understood just what was being created from the lights as he saw his mentor, still suspended in place, but this time he was in the center cockpit of a wireframe model of the Crusader.

“That’s so cool!” Cameron exclaimed, his anxiety giving way to excitement as he watched the lines finish the crusaders details, before looking down to see that he too was standing in a wireframe model of his own mech, the sleek, angular curves of the Headsman displayed prominently identifying it as such.

“You haven’t seen the best part yet!” Logan called, causing Cameron to lookup, but before he could respond, the robotic voice was back again, ready to prep for the next phase of whatever was going to happen.

“Frame projection complete, beginning detail injection.”

The wireframe models began to glow and pulse, blinking rapidly in place before Cameron’s vison of Logan and his crusader was cut off, replace instead by a cool bare slab of metal that was marked COCKPIT: FORWARD FACE in giant black blocky letters.

“What the hell?” He muttered, looking around as, one by one, his vision to arena outside was replaced by slabs of iron, colored in a gunmetal gray, and looked so real that Cameron felt like he could almost see his reflection in on of the side panes before the cockpit was fully enclosed, leaving him in pitch blackness with nothing but his thoughts and the feminine voice to keep him company.

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“Detail injection complete, beginning internal retrofitting.”

A light came on from seemingly nowhere inside the cockpit and Cameron’s eyes went wide as he was no longer staring a simple bare metal shell but instead, a true authentic cockpit. His feet were not standing a platform, but instead, a single peg rested underneath the arch of each foot, held into place by an iron shackle that was securely fashioned around each ankle. Similarly, his arms were placed into a slot on either side of his body, a black cushioned cuff fitting snuggly over his rotator cuff.

Cameron was speechless, so in awe of what he was seeing, that he almost didn’t hear the next intercom message until the voice had nearly finished the sentence.

“Internal retrofitting complete, beginning nervous system integration and synaptic uplink imitation.”

“Synaptic uplink imi- Ah fuck!” He yelped, feeling a sharp pain jab into the back of his neck, causing his eyes to involuntarily tear up as he squeezed them shut. Up until this point, Cameron hadn’t felt a thing, the system seemingly numbing his sense of touch as it went about setting everything up. But now, apparently, he could feel, and all he feel was pain. He hissed and sighed, blinking open his eyes.

“What the hell was tha-” He stopped mid sentence, highly aware of the fact that he was no longer staring at a dimly cockpit. No, Cameron instead found himself looking down to the bare metal floor of the arena itself, brightly lit with fluorescent bulbs and shining down on him… and his newly acquired metal feet. Large metal feet, which they themselves were attached to large, gunmetal colored legs. His eyes went wide as he looked up and around. His body wasn’t his own anymore. There were no meaty appendages of flesh, they had all been replaced by massive, long, shafts of metal and hydraulics.

“L-Logan?!” He called, having to do a double take as he heard the slight crackle of static coming from his voice, “What the hell is going on!?”

In response, Cameron head Logan’s laughter coming from the direction of what looked to be a perfect recreation of his Crusader, his hearty chuckles also being accompanied by a soft static hum.

“Well…,” He said a moment, taking longer than Cameron thought was necessary to stop laughing, “Better here than on a contract I suppose.”

“What does that mean!?” Cameron shouted back, “And why does my voice sound like it’s coming through a speaker?”

“Because it is,” Logan said, a hint of amusement in his voice, “This is how A.R.M.S. pilots talk without a headset. You just never heard it because you’ve been in a Squire up until now. That’s also why you can see. You’re Synaptic Uplink feeds directly into your mechs ocular headpiece.”

Cameron had to do a double take, shaking his head, and feeling a slight sluggish and heavy tug as he did so.

“Wait a second,” He said, disbelief evident in his voice, “You mean to tell me-”

“Yes,” Logan said, the Crusader’s headpiece making a nodding motion as he spoke, “Congrats kid, consider this your first taste of being an A.R.M.S. pilot.”