[System Notice: You have destroyed one Reclamation Drone. Type: Cutter/Stripper. No salvage is obtainable.]

“Well, that sucks,” I whispered, but the corpse drew my attention.

[System Notice: You have discovered a Corrupted War Frame]

[Class: Street Samurai]

[Status: Dead lined]

[Recoverable equipment: Yōkai-enabled ballistic shield]

[Corrupted Yōkai-Tech detected]

[Corrupted Yōkai Tech purge in process]

The system highlighted the dented piece, but it looked more like a large ballistic shield than the small ballistic shield on the man’s arm.

{When activated ballistic shield total coverage is as shown]

“Well, that’s useful,” I said and tried not to think about robbing the dead.

In the field, when you needed a piece of equipment, you recovered it or went without. Only a fool would leave a weapon behind when you needed it. The ballistic shield was a long way from the full battle rattle I used to have when I was in special operations, but it was better than nothing.

The body, of what appeared to be a 30-year-old man, didn’t stink as bad as I thought it should. Once I was close enough to remove the ballistic shield, I could see why.

The man was basically a dried up husk. Which was odd, because the frame wasn’t as damaged by the environment as I would have expected.

The joints were still lubricated, and they looked like they would have glided. Not that I wanted to test that theory.

I thought this project was still pretty new. How did an old dead thing even end up here? How did I?

The ballistic shield came off easily enough after I follow the instructions. It had twisted into place, then snap down snuggly, but it the damage it taken was obvious. At the dent sites there were also gouges in the metal, like someone had attacked it with a edged weapon.

[Left Exterior Ballistic shield: Durability 2/5]

[Mission log update: Discover the source of the corruption.]

[Primary Mission: 'Discover the source of the corruption' has been identified. Vision Dynamic has identified the corruption of Yōkai Tech to be of grave concern.]

Equipping the piece was offering me some basic protection, but I had the feeling that with such a low durability I wouldn’t get a lot of opportunity to use it.

“Something is better than nothing,” I thought and scanned my surrounding.

I needed to get somewhere safe to hold up, and the warehouse didn’t excite me. Aside from being too open on the inside, it also had holes in the walls and roof. Sure, it was pretty certain that I cause at least one of them, but that just made it more likely someone besides drones would come to investigate.

The ominous chittering sounds came again, this time closer. It was accompanied by a clicking, and the dread I felt grew oppressive. And for some reason, the battle of Xuying, popped into my head. I needed to leave.

That battle had been the one that claimed my legs. I could still remember the sound of ripping steel, and the screams of the dock workers as those Chinese…monsters tore their way through the warehouses looking for asset.

Fighting down the panic, I glanced at the map on my display. “No time to be subtle,” I thought and rushed wildly toward it.

Behind me, the chittering gave way to the crashing of junk. Whatever I’d heard was pursuing me.

The exit was perhaps sixty feet away, and it wasn’t a straight shot. I had the feeling the creature had an angle on me. If it had any tactical ability, it should know cutting me off would be the strongest game plan.

A fresh surge of fear inspired adrenaline coursed into my muscles, and I piston my arms and legs as hard as I could.

“Move! Move! Move,” I commanded myself.

A pile of plastic junk exploded off to my right, forcing me to duck my head and making me stumble.

I was still sloppy and uncoordinated. While I was moving fast, I bounced off detritus and twice went to the ground. The fear got me up and moving, and quickly I got to the closed door of the exit.

“Open, damn it,” I yelled and slammed into it with my shoulder. But the damn door was locked

The noise grew louder, filling my ears. I bounced off the door again, and a spike of pain lanced through my shoulder.

A whirring of a drone motor joined the cacophony. The addition of that noise put my mind into gear. I’d let fear rule me when I first encounter a drone, and I knew I couldn’t let it control me again.

My eyes darted over the structure of the door, and immediately I saw the issue. A simple bolt was engaged about halfway up the door.“ real bright, Kate,” I admonished myself.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

I chided myself and tossed the bolt open and shoved through the door. Falling, I landed on all fours, my knees left burning from the scrapes.

Stumbling to my feet, I reached for the door and shoved it closed. Then, scanning my immediate area, I saw a stone block. It was about the size of a can of fifty caliber ammo, but weighed about twice as much. With an effort, I moved it in front of the door, then skipped back away from it.

To my surprise, nothing happened.

I back peddled a little more. There had to be something else to brace the door with. Glancing around, I found nothing useful. The building was a basic structure, a warehouse that could have been found anywhere in the world. Corrugated steel siding and basic scaffolding steel stairs, and enough rust to promise tetanus to anyone unfortunate enough to get cut by it. But unlike the inside, the outside was bare.

The warehouse was one of many buildings loosely scattered in what I knew to be a former Forward Operating Base. Based on the size, the now deserted base was an Echelon III, or at least an Echelon II plus. That meant that it should have been big enough for a full Surgical Hospital and all that was needed to support it. Though, by the desolate look of the place, it hadn’t been occupied for a few years.

There was nothing left of any real value outside of the abandoned buildings themselves. Even most of the chain-link fences and barbed wire was missing. Why the military would have pulled out was a mystery, but these were no corporate boys, these had of been real soldiers like me. Based on the road signs that were painted with Kanji or Hanja symbols they weren’t English speaking, but that was all I knew for sure.

“No time for conjecture,” I thought.

A shower of sparks blasted from the building and out onto the sidewalk. Suddenly, something massive slammed into the space and the drone that had been cutting metal inside sailed through the wall and landed on the ground in a heap.

Down street seemed like the smart way to go, and it had the benefit of putting me out of the line of sight of whatever was coming through the wall. So, I took off at a shuffle, cursing the combat frame’s slow ass synchronization rate as I went.

Ripping metal screamed behind me, sending a jolt through me that made me want to piss my pants. Worse was the sound of the drone blades screaming to life. Somehow, that hunk of junk was back up and running.

“It’s leading whatever that is, right toward me,” I screamed inwardly. The pulse of fear gave me just a little boost of strength to run.

[Corrupted Tunneler Drone: Health 100%]

A diagram appeared in my vision, with little arrows that pointed to the obviously dangerous aspects of the creature. All of which were making it hard to see where I was running.

“That’s not helping! I need to run faster,” I screamed internally.

The diagram vanished, and a new message scrolled over my vision.

[Warning: Increasing Oni Frame running speed with a low synchronization rate may cause a decrease in dexterity.]

“Thats a bad idea, I must warn you that-”

“Increase it now!” I demanded, ignoring both the HUD and the AI.

[Increasing your Combat frame speed X 10%]

Just as hope surged through me, the Combat Frame tried to pull me into an even faster step. The resulting movement made it feel like my leg was being pulled out from under me.

Attempting to manage the fall and turn it into a roll became disastrous as the combat frame amplified my movements. A light push off with my shoulder and forearm launched me up into a cartwheel. Instead of coming down on my feet, I slammed down on my back as if body-slammed by a giant.

[You have received 7% stun damage]

The chittering grew intense and just as I looked up through the dust, a massive insectile head turned the corner in a rush.

“FUCK!” I bellowed in terror.

Then, struggling, I tried to get up, but every movement was just out of sync. The small delays and surges turned me into a twitching mess as I fought the frame impotently as the opposing forces tore at my muscles.

The insect like robot didn’t wait to see what I was doing. Rushing forward, metal mandibles closed with a snap. Just missing me. I brought up my left arm to block, and to my surprise a small round shield irised open into a larger protective layer as I smashed it into the creature’s face.

[You have delivered 10% bashing damage to mandible, and right eye.]

With a sense of triumph, I got my feet up under the bug, and I kicked at it just well enough to keep it back.

[Ballistic shield Activated: Current strength is at 35%]

The high pitch whirring came again, louder and closer than I thought possible. The tone grew steady, and I felt like ice crystals were crawling down my back. I was certain the drone was targeting me.

Then all those hours of my combative training kicked in. I started by slamming the mace into the left side of the creature’s face. As it tried to pull away to the right, I attempted to use its momentum to maneuver. If it worked, I would have thrown the bug-bot cleanly off me.

[Attempted Ju Jit Su throw: FAILED.]

What can I say? We’d never trained against a robot insect with six legs, and it used all of them to keep me pinned.

Recovering from the blow, it swung its head around. The mandibles opening wide to take off my head. For a moment, I looked deep into its faceted eyes and peered into the abyss that was its inhuman soul.

“I hope my corpse makes your hive rust,” Is what flashed through my mind at the moment. Which would have been way cooler than what I actually said, “Eat a dick!”

A blast came from the drone behind me and I wailed a string of cuss words long enough to make a biker blush. As I waited for my death, something odd happened. A perfectly round, burning red outline appeared on the robot’s head. For an instant, the thing froze, then its jaws shivered just before it fell off of me and lay motionless on the ground.

Scrambling back, I tried to find my feet twice and failed. The third time something grabbed me and pulled upright. I threw an elbow wildly, then spun to face my new attacker. It landed with a satisfying thump as a yell went up, followed by several more.

[You have delivered 15% bashing damage.]

“WOAH! We aren’t the enemy!”

Pivoting, I brought up my mace into the ready position. In front of me was a small abused looking VTOL with three soldiers aiming their N14s rifles at me, and on the ground was a stunned-looking armor clad SSG Rooker.

“You always said you didn’t need rescued, Bro,” He scoffed. “But I didn’t think you would beat someone’s ass for trying.”

A laugh choked out of me, followed by a sob I couldn’t hold back. I deflated like a balloon, dropped my mace and went into a crouch as sobs racked my body.

SSG Rooker and I came up together. Infantry School, Airborne, Air Assault, we’d even served in our first Ranger Bat together, though that is where things took a turn. He was accepted into Special Forces. I was sent to Ranger school, then Officer Basic Course. Somehow, before my injury, we’d still ended up in the Special Operations group.

“What are you crying about? I’m the one who got a broken nose,” Rooker’s nasal response drove a hitch into my sobs, and laughter pealed out once more.

“Eat a dick? This is how Americans greet their liberators?” one operator raised her visor and whispered to her comrade, with a little smile on her lips. She was dressed head to toe in a body suit of reactive gray armor that was skintight. Unlike me, she had curves, powerful ones.

Although she was wearing extra cargo attachments in the attempt to hide her physical appearance, she was clearly massive, even compared to Rooker and the guys. With as little clothing as I had on, I envied her those cargo pouches.

A taller man with a sun worn expression lifted his visor as well and with a heavy cowboy accent replied. “Maybe, but since she was just fighten a Corrupted Tunneler in mano a mano, I might be inclined to let it go,” he said with a nod.