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Shroud
Bk3 Ch80: Roughhousing

Bk3 Ch80: Roughhousing

“This is fucking stupid.” Travis muttered to himself, not for the first time. He was cruising a dozen feet above the ground on a straight course toward the chain-covered arena. For all that he thought this was a terrible idea, the Founder hadn’t been lying about the tech he’d been given.

Travis was using something wholly new, an ethertech exosuit not dissimilar to Ethermen tech. The obvious exception was that the user didn’t have to have the tech integrated into their body, at least not nearly as extensively as with a traditional Etherman. That also meant that the consciousness suppressants and indoctrination necessary to get Ethermen to not immediately kill themselves from the integration pain also wasn’t necessary.

But it was still experimental. This suit had never been field tested at all, despite the promising lab results. Results that Travis had reviewed extensively before putting it on. He had to admit, he’d been impressed, as he always was with the Founder’s ethertech. The exosuit was designed to put an unshrouded on equal footing with a moderately powerful shrouded, and the numbers bore that out.

His problems boiled down to two. He wasn’t overly familiar with operating the exosuit, which wasn’t a simple piece of ethertech. And he didn’t think that the shrouded he would be fighting was going to be average. If the fighting he’d been watching up until now was anything to go by, this was going to be an accomplished and powerful shrouded with several unexpected tricks to play.

This was his own hubris biting him in the ass again. Travis was supposed to put in several hours of training with the exosuit in preparation for the assault, just in case he needed to step in or was attacked directly. Initially, he hadn’t done that because he’d assumed it wouldn’t be necessary. After he had his revelation about how much of an idiot he’d been, he was planning to put in the time. Tomorrow.

With that whole idea scuttled by Harmon’s early triggering of the assault, he was left with little practical training. Of course, it wasn’t entirely a lost cause. Travis wouldn’t have even considered approaching the enemy’s fallback point if he didn’t think he had a chance. The Founder’s approval wasn’t worth dying over, and Travis certainly didn’t give a shit about the Revolution’s cause enough to die for it. He wouldn’t be helping the Founder if he did, since the mysterious man had no intention of overthrowing the shrouded anyway.

The exosuit’s basic enhancements to his speed and strength were intuitive, so much so that he felt comfortable with it after a scant few minutes of moving around. He also had a manual with a set of basic exercises and motions that would let him test the suit's limits, which he’d done. That alone let him know that the exosuit was capable of producing speed and strength well above an average shrouded.

The weapons suite loaded on the exosuit also had several more basic armaments that he wouldn’t have any trouble controlling, and the flight system was just as intuitive as the physical enhancements. All told, the Armored Warrior Test Model 853 was much stronger combat-wise than the initial assessment might suggest.

From what Travis could tell from the reports, the reason why the Model 853 was rated only for a middling shrouded was because of the inherently adaptable nature of shrouds. In an extended conflict, the 853 had weaknesses that a shrouded could exploit, weaknesses the exosuit couldn’t adapt to cover like a shrouded could. He had the advantage in an initial engagement against even a highly experienced shrouded, but that advantage would fall off rapidly as the shrouded adjusted to the exosuit’s capabilities.

So, the solution was obvious. Travis needed to strike hard and fast, ending the fight before the shrouded could respond or adapt. That was his only real chance at winning. Luckily, the Founder had been more than aware of the likely use case for the 853 when he decided on its weaponry, so it was equipped for rapid, hard strikes with powerful weapons that had long cooldowns or reloads. Exactly what Travis needed.

Still, Travis couldn’t help but think about the Experimental Vessel he’d seen and envy the adaptability of those Ethermen. No doubt that particular vessel was designed to emulate the variety of abilities a shrouded could produce and respond in kind. A feature distinctly lacking from his exosuit.

However, a chance was a chance, and Travis trusted himself enough to capitalize on it. After all, shrouded were nearly universally condescending and would probably underestimate him enough that he could get in the necessary hits to finish it.

Dodging around a partially collapsed building, Travis saw a man exit the arena’s chain-covered entrance. A man he immediately recognized.

“Oh, this is fucking stupid!” He said, not for the first time. However, this time the emotions behind it were very different.

{}

Erik watched the flying figure cruising over the debris and building fragments. His defensive sense was throwing up strange signals, fluctuating wildly across the spectrum. And all that rapidly shifting intensity was coming from the ethertech-covered entity headed his way.

Someone less adept with defensive sense might have been confused by the feedback Erik was getting, but he wasn’t. He’d been using his defensive sense since he was little, and this wasn’t the first time he encountered a response like this. However, getting it now brought up some questions.

A threat level that rapidly changed was the hallmark of a sapient creature with a lot of power but limited skill. The reason the apparent danger changed so much was because the amount of damage an unskilled person could dish out was more dependant on luck than that of a skilled individual.

Somewhat ironically, this was actually worse for Erik. He was better than the average shrouded at fighting an opponent of equal or greater skill because of his highly refined defensive sense. A skilled fighter had an intention for every blow they threw, and that intent rippled through Erik’s defensive sense, making it easier to predict the more sure of themselves his opponent was.

Of course, some of the best fighters kept their minds as flexible as their bodies, and that intent became cloudy and harder to predict. But most fighters weren’t at that level. The funny part was that an unskilled layman could accomplish the same effect as a master by simply having no idea what they were doing. Their attacks held no intent, making them harder to predict.

An unskilled fighter would attack in ways that were self-defeating or counterintuitive out of sheer ignorance. That lack of knowledge made them unpredictable. Normally, that wouldn't matter, as the lack of skill more than made up for the benefits of unpredictability in its demerits. But Erik could feel that the figure coming his way had more than enough power to cover that gap.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

Nine times out of ten, an unskilled fighter would never get a hit on Erik because he actually knew what he was doing. But if the opponent was strong enough to make that one hit the end of the fight, he could be in trouble.

At least, he would have been before his shroud evolution and the time he’d spent in the Blade Forge. Now, he had little to worry about, unless the approaching enemy suddenly became a lot more competent than his defensive sense indicated.

The more interesting fact he’d gleaned from all this was that his opponent wasn’t an Etherman. While he wouldn’t qualify any of those machine-ethertech hybrids as particularly skilled, they never produced this kind of feedback from his aura senses. The artificial nature of the Ethermen seemed to simplify their thoughts and clarify their intent, making them extremely easy to read.

Erik knew his opponent wasn’t an Etherman, which was strange because that’s exactly what they looked like. Human profile, but covered in ethertech and metal plating. Like a man in heavy plate armor with ethertech embellishments.

A man in armor…

“Oh, it can’t be that simple.” Erik chuckled. “Well, this ought to be interesting at least.”

{}

Over the last hundred or so feet, Travis flared his boosters, increasing his speed by an order of magnitude to catch his brother off guard. He hadn’t expected to see Erik’s stupid face here, but he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

This was both lucky and unlucky. It was great, because Travis finally got to get revenge on his brother for always looking down on his and belittling him just because he wasn’t a shrouded. On the other hand, whatever attacks he used on his brother would be seen by the arena’’s true defender. No doubt that was the reason why they’d sent out Erik first.

It wasn’t a bad plan. Erik was durable and slippery, so using him to get a read on the approaching threat was a smart decision by whoever made those black chains. They could let Erik dodge and heal and tease out more of Travis’s tricks.

There was no way they could have known who Travis was, that he was intimately familiar with Erik’s abilities. Erik was slippery with his preternatural ability to sniff out danger. But Travis knew that all he had to do was be faster than Erik could react and his blows would land. Erik might be able to heal better than the average shrouded, but Travis knew the kinds of damage his Stitch shroud couldn’t deal with easily.

His solution was obvious, and not far off from his original plan. Travis needed to take out Erik as fast as possible, with the added caveat of limiting the number of weapons he used in the process. He’d been thinking through the best way to go about doing that from the moment he’d seen his brother. Now it was time to see if he’d planned correctly.

He was almost surprised when his left fist slammed into his brother’s stomach. It seemed like Erik hadn’t even attempted to dodge. Travis knew he was moving fast, but not that fast. It was only the twist of his brother’s body and the rigid posture that let him know that Erik had, in fact, attempted to dodge. Travis was just that much faster.

His hand employed one of the most basic weapons of the 853. A foot long blade coated in white energy passed through Erik’s clothes and flesh with equal resistance, that is to say, barely any at all. Then, once it was inside, the blade, which had extended out over the top of Travis’s fist along the back of his hand, spun around his arm, coring Erik like an apple.

Pulling his left hand back, Travis extended his right hand at the same time, palm open. In the center of said palm, a glowing circle flared white. Wrapping his hand around his brother’s head, Travis activated the concussive energy burst, caving in Erik’s head like a melon struck by a sledgehammer.

All of that only took a split second, and Travis’s momentum sent him flying across the ground, leaving his brother’s lifeless body behind. He skidded to a stop as a deep sense of cathartic satisfaction swept over him. For that alone, this little trip had been worth it. Finally, Travis felt like his brother’s shadow no longer hung over him. He was free.

Now, all he had to do was defeat the protector of the arena. He’d only shown two weapons of myriad at his disposal and even that had only lasted an instant. Hopefully, the defender had learned little from that exchange, aside from the fact that Travis was exceedingly dangerous. This might be easier than…he…thought…

Travis’s sense of victory slipped away as he heard a very familiar laugh coming from behind him. But there was no way, his brother never could have recovered from having his fucking head destroyed!

But there he was, standing up from the place where Travis had let him fall, glowing yellow and green shroud surrounding his injuries, which were recovering in seconds. Erik had a wide smile on his face as he laughed loudly.

“Oh man! I was expecting something interesting, but you hit like a runaway ethership going full speed! The Revolution has really been holding back if they can make something like that. I wonder why all you guys don’t have one of those. Maybe they’re expensive?” Erik shrugged. “Whatever, not like I care, and I doubt you’d tell me anyway.”

He shook his arms out and rolled his newly regenerated head around, limbering up as Travis watched him, stunned. Those colors were the same as Erik’s Stitch shroud. Was this actually his brother? Travis was almost tempted to believe it was just some other shrouded that looked eerily like Erik, as unlikely as that was. But he even acted just like Erik, so it had to be him. But then how had his shroud changed? How could it recover such overwhelmingly fatal damage?

Erik ignored Travis’s internal turmoil and continued talking.

“Now, I’m assuming since you just took my head off that you’re not here to talk. But you’ve got me at a disadvantage since I can't really leave the arena undefended. So, we’re going to have to do this the hard way, I guess.” Erik, slipped low into a ready fighting stance. “Come at me then.”

Travis reacted, more out of reflex than any conscious plan. He flicked his wrist, throwing out a black disk that immediately slammed into Erik’s torso. A shining blue and red crystal in the center of the disk lit up brilliantly before exploding with enough force to breach the hull of a dreadnought class ethership.

Travis winced as the force of the explosion picked him up and threw him across the broken ground for a good dozen feet. He hadn’t meant to use that particular feature of the 853. It was one of three armaments that relied on limited ammunition, and it was literally designed for breaching etherships, not fighting individual opponents. Plus, he’d been way too close, as proven by his prone position on the ground.

Well, at least he’d killed Erik. Sitting up, Travis looked at the epicenter of the blast, a crater over twenty feet wide and a dozen feet deep carving into the rubble. He’d expected to see that. What he hadn’t expected to see was the glowing ball of yellow, green, and brown light that was rapidly growing arms, legs, and a head.

Travis gaped in awe as his brother reformed from essentially nothing, sans his clothes. A flick of his hand a flash of the familiar white of his Stitch shroud and he was wearing a singed-looking set of pants and t-shirt.

“Dang, that literally atomized some of my robes. I guess this is the best I can do for now.” He shrugged. “I knew this was going to be rough, but wow! I was not expecting that. In case you haven’t caught on yet, I’m pretty hard to kill. My shroud is great at healing, stores a copy of my body that lets me regenerate from basically nothing, and it’s super duper efficient when I’m healing myself. Also, I wasn’t really doing much for a while before this, so my reserves are kinda topped up.”

“Basically, what I’m saying is that the only way you’re going to kill me is by dealing enough damage to deplete my shroud entirely. So, uh, good luck with that.” Erik smiled a disturbingly chipper smile. “In the meantime, I’m going to peel you out of that suit and see what’s inside.”

“Now, Ready, Set, Go!”

Erik lunged forward, arm outstretched.