“Are you sure this is the right place?”
“Positive. I followed the E-map.”
“We got a what map?”
Cael’s eyes bored into Ben’s soul. They told him to shut up. He did so. There was ample evidence proving there might’ve been a digital map of campus in his email that he didn’t completely read.
It wasn't completely his fault. System quest pop-up interrupted him. Chemistry. He shivered.
“Anyways, this is a mid-tier rated one, definitely worse than what I’m used to. Lower fidelity to environment manipulation,” Cael said, walking through the sliding doors “But better than nothing I guess.”
It was a huge facility, with chrome plates lining the outer walls. The shape was of a dome spanning hundreds of feet into the air, swallowing the immediate visible sky in a silver glare.
Ben’s mouth was wide open; he’d never seen such a big building before. Even if the top of the dome was lower than its sister structures, the sheer width of it broke him. How was this a ‘mid-tier’ sim room?!
They walked into the foyer, passing coming and going students. Many were arguing about indistinct topics difficult to make out. Formations? Something about roles?
“Cael, are there tactics involved with mech combat?”
Cael was walking with his hands crossed behind his head, swaying his head from side-to-side.
“Ah, you wouldn’t know this if you hadn’t used mech in any capacity- which I’m still miffed about. What social media cuts out are the intricate battle formations that teams of mechs use. You mostly only see heavily edited endings.”
Ben scratched the back of his head. “Aren’t mech pilots 1% of the population?”
Cael made a so-so gesture.
“Dude, you gotta remember that there’s like trillions of people. That’s at least a few million here and there.”
“I guess that makes sense.”
Walking forward Cael continued. “Anyhow, my plan to work out roles for the first round is to use a standard spear and shield combo.”
“One is going to beat away close range fighting and deters the enemy from attacking the spear.” Cael turned around and pointed a finger gun at Ben, “And the other cuts through.”
Ben nodded his head. It made sense, at least in theory. In a small team like theirs, it wouldn’t make sense to overcomplicate things, the plan covered all bases.
“So who’s going to take what role?”
Cael coughed. “Since you’re a bit… behind, I’ll take the spear. It would be hard to shore up your marksmanship up to the spec in 2 weeks. Today, we’re going to focus on your defense.”
He couldn’t really argue with that. Heck, he wasn’t confident with guns anyways. The last time he even touched a laser rifle, he’d singed the last of Croix’s hair off with the blast, and it was never mentioned again.
“Good afternoon boys, what can the UNM Colter do for you today?” A thin receptionist asked.
“We’d like to book a student session for 3 hours please.” Cael stepped up, presenting his wrist to her.
“Certainly, just a moment.”
Typing on her terminal, she tapped Cael's probably-sub-dermal communicator paused for a moment to remove 2 badges from a compartment below the desk.
Handing them over she smiled. “When you’re done, drop them off in the box in the front.”
Thanking her, Cael passed one to Ben.
He saw a ‘B-4’ and a ‘3:00:00’ emblazoned in platinum on the front, waiting for some kind of trigger. Rubbing his thumb on the front, it felt like it was made from a dense alloy with no seams or assembly points. Ben gulped. The device in his hand seemed more expensive than anything he’d ever owned.
As he was cradling it in his hands, his shoulder clipped with what felt like a brick wall. What he thought was a cleaning bot trundling around turned toward him.
“Watch it!” The hulk sneered at him.
He was somewhat hunched, either from poor posture or the rippling mass of muscle covering his upper half stretching his uniform taut. His hair was greased back in a high-shine finish that reflected light.
“Don’t disrespect the boss!”
“Yeah, don’t get in our way, rim-rat.”
There were a couple lackeys at his side making rude gestures at Ben and Cael. Both stayed close to his side like flies that found fresh dung.
A strong stench of cologne saturated the space.
Ben held up his hands. “My fault, I’ll get out of your way.”
The mass grunted and continued toward the exit. His minions followed, fawning over him with words too far away to make out.
“What an asshole.” Ben muttered to himself.
“You’re pretty lucky.” Cael said, swiping his badge on a reader. “If I didn’t just see it happen, I wouldn’t have believed it.”
“What do you mean?”
“You just met Liam Evander. Top potentiate in the system, all eyes are on him for the pre-course games. Rumor has it that his family cheats or something to get a head on everyone, but I think they’re just full of mech savants. Weird that he didn’t throw you into a wall or something.”
Blood drained from Ben’s face. “And you’re telling me I just bumped into their golden boy?”
“Mhm. Don’t worry about it though, everyone knows he’s a dick. And we’re here!”
A bleach room expanded before them, every inch of the space segmented into white square segments on the walls, ceiling, and floor. 2 on the ground sunk down, being replaced by a pair of pods that were the same pristine color.
“Alaric tech right here!” Cael grinned, slapping the side of one of them.
“Wow… do they really simulate a mech?” Ben slowly worked past his nerves to touch the smooth surface of the machine. He could hear innumerable small sounds whining inside, but all of it was hidden under a plate of metal.
Cael made a grand sweeping motion in the air with one hand.
“Most of the stuff. These models aren’t the best, like I said. Now come on!”
He slapped the top of his pod, and jumped into the pool of liquid that exposed itself with a splash, clothes and all. The top two plates sealed itself after, leaving Ben alone.
That was impromptu. Ben scratched his arm, studying his own pod. It lacked any imperfections he could see, except for maybe…
Feeling the surface, he smiled when he found a soft indent in the steel made from some kind of rubber that his eye missed. That sent a tiny twinge of joy in him. It was the small wins.
Pressing on the button, his eyes met the still surface of the pristine water-like substance. He faintly became aware of the pieces of dried mud caked on his boots. What if he got it dirty? Would they have to pay for it? Did the stuff wash out?
“Don’t worry about it, don’t worry about it.” Ben repeated to himself, sinking into the pleasantly warm liquid.
After his nose dipped below the surface, the exposed sliders closed in on him, leaving him in darkness with his last lungful of air. Oh god. How was he supposed to breath?!
Pounding on the top of the pod, his lungs burned. He could feel himself drowning, he was, uh, what?
Audio of Cael’s voice shot from his left side with a crackle. “Ben, why are you standing still?”
Ben blinked.
If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
He was in a cushioned spherical compartment. The front half of it was a metallic terminal for processing input. A pair of attunement stones were articulated on metallic extensions; meant to convey movement and send him the sensory data of the mech.
There was nothing filling his mouth, he could feel the moistness of his tongue and the warm air leaving his lips.
“No reason, all good.” Ben called out.
“Then let’s get a move on, time’s a wastin.”
He gripped the cool dark material, a static shock running up his arms as the connection was made. It was a strange feeling, as if his self got stretched to fit the pattern of a body he suddenly became aware of.
New eyes, legs and arms. There was no need to blink or breath in this body, but he still did in his original. Ben’s knee hit the ground, producing a dull ‘thud’, the echo resounding throughout the hollow components of his new, titanic stature.
“The first time is the hardest for most, you’re handling it pretty well.” Cael said, placing his hand on Ben’s shoulder, producing a shriek as their exteriors grinded against each other.
“It’s not bad. I think- I think I can stand now.”
It was different. Ben could feel the increased air resistance against his movements more than his human body and the new promise of power in the allocated servos of his legs, waiting to be activated.
“Great. Let’s get down to business then. Get ready to block me.”
Ben’s interface indicated that there were pieces of equipment magnetized on his back on standby. He reached behind himself, pulling out a plain shield that reached to his waist and an white short sword.
Ben could hear an audible sigh from Cael’s side. “They didn’t even bother loading a mat pack for your stuff? This is worse than I thought.”
Hefting the slab of metal, he was surprised to feel the strain as if the cables and wires were muscles in his arm. Likewise for the sword, it was as if he were doing the same in his own body. Visceral.
Cael’s visored head nodded in approval and backed away a few paces back in the white background, pulling out a high-caliber rifle. Unlike his own equipment, it was a realistic-looking piece of steel with a scope and chamber.
“Why are you using one of those?” Ben asked.
“First reason is that guns are used very often, I’d say there’s a 100% shot you’re gonna get hit with one of these. Second is that it’s my skin, I’ll use it. Try to reach me.”
A loud crack blasted from Cael, slamming into Ben’s shield. It rattled his arm, but he shook it off. He started walking forward, testing the weight of his blade.
Step. Stay low. Step. Ricochet. Easy.
A sharp pain bloomed into Ben’s shoulder when he inadvertently dropped his guard moving his shield. He could almost see the grin on the visored visage of Cael’s mech. Ben narrowed his eyes.
Speeding up, he held the slab higher and lowered his posture. This way, he’d slam the wedge into that annoying throat when he crashed into him. Ben would relish feeling the collision into that bastard. Just about… now!
At least he would, if he didn’t hit empty air where he estimated where Cael was. Ben’s eyes shifted.
Left. Nothing.
Right. Nothing.
A shot of an offending ballistic slug hit his lower chassis with a crack, sending streaks of pain in his rear panels. How did he get there?!
“Did you think that I would stay still during that death charge? Remember that I’m still a thinking, breathing person Ben.” Chuckled Cael. “Gotta give you credit though; I’ve never seen anyone pull something like that before.”
Oh that really stoked him.
“What happens stays here, right? No one finds out what we’re doing?”
“Of course! Trade secrets wouldn’t be real in mech sports without it, even if they didn’t, there are literal terabytes of data moving in here per second. It would be impossible to rip out our session into a viewable file.”
Perfect.
Muting the communicator-esque device on the ceiling, he tapped his own, the Mech Pilot System initializing in the compartment.
The screwdriver was a no-go. Ben had a hard time believing that he could even use it in here on a simulation. That left one option he’d been putting off. Navigating to the “Skill Paths” tab, Ben looked at the 3 confusing choices he got when he first started this journey: ‘Cruelty’, ‘Piety’, and ‘Love’.
“System, what path will help me reach that guy?”
[ Scanning… ]
[ User is in a mech facsimile-esque environment. Adjusting… ]
[ Assuming User is attempting to approximate the style of ‘Dragoon’. The path of Piety is the correct choice. ]
“...Really?” Ben doubtfully looked at that option. If at all, he would’ve expected ‘Cruelty’. That one seemed more fighty, and while he did appreciate him, it wasn’t like he loved Cael.
[ By affirming our faith in the covenant, we become more able to achieve our goals, User. ]
Oh god. Ben almost virtually vomited. He wasn’t an atheist, but this was a nauseating amount of zealotry.
He grimaced. It wasn’t like any other option seemed right enough to him either. He'd trust the system's judgment.
Ben selected the option of ‘Piety’. Immediately, he fell to his knees.
“Ugh...”
A pounding headache seemed to bore it’s way into Ben’s head. Whispers of archaic rites and rituals involving copious amounts of incense appeared in his memories as if they’d always been there. Just as quickly as they flooded his mindspace though, the images were washed away, to his relief.
There were two remaining that he could make out in his mind’s eye with surprising clarity.
The first was a dance, circling in a room with elaborate and intricate movements. The figure in the vision was graceful, leaving no wasted movements.The silhouette left no room for the imagination for anything other than a feminine performer.
Her garments were equally as lilith, feathers that hung low from her arms in a mimicry of wings, and claws on her fingers, like so many talons on a bird of prey.
The suave elegance left the nubile farmhand speechless and internally averting his eyes. She was undeniably fierce though, moving with a purpose that conveyed pride with languid swathes of bold waves and sweeping movements that leapt across the room. The performance ended with a low bow, her right hand outstretched as if she were asking him to join her.
The curtain closed, leaving Ben with the mental image of a graceful hunter that offered him its teachings. Of beauty and purpose.
The second shift happened in that same moment, not in a room, but in the cool soil of the outside. A thin, almost anorexic old man stood in front of a monastery. Notes of pine tickled Ben’s nose, along with a chilling gale that blew past the gates.
A heavy shadow slammed into the grounds in front of them. A pod. It was a massive cylinder that stood as tall as the trees swaying around them, dead needles falling from the impact. Ben swallowed.
“They have come.” The old man suddenly spoke. “Watch carefully.”
Ben stared gobsmacked at him. Wasn’t this a memory or something? How was he talking to him?
A sharp pneumatic hiss penetrated the peaceful atmosphere. A gnarled stone-grey claw gripped the border of the open door.
The body that left the colossus of metal matched it in size. Natural plates of armor-like material plated the arms and legs of the beast, carving rents into the surrounding trunks as it got it’s bearing. A single, orange eye burning with anger seemed to see Ben, though it could’ve been the old man.
“⍀⎍⟟⋏ ☊⍜⋔⟒⌇ ⎎⍜⍀ ⊬⍜⎍.” The open mouth on the front guttered, sharp canines peaking with high peaks past it’s black lips.
Seeming to understand the cacophony of the monster, the wrinkled face in front of him remained impassive.
“You are not welcome, alien. Retreat now.”
The mountainous frame roared, a deafening sound that shook the ground. Birds escaped from the treeline and the loose forest detritus shifted. The old man readied his own position, sitting down on the damp ground.
That’s it?
“What are you doing? He’s going to kill you!” Ben yelled at him. “Run!”
Calm eyes simply watched the huge beast finish it’s indignation, facing who snubbed it. Ben’s heart began to pound. The old man wasn’t going to move.
Ben tried grabbing ahold of the sitting man but couldn’t touch him; it was like he was in a lucid dream where his hands only met nothing.
“Move!”
“When you are afraid, you are weak.” He said. “There is little room for resolve or strength in a heart that is scared.”
Dull slams crept closer from the oppressive weight of the monster creating cavernous sinkholes in the dark brown soil. The soft din of wildlife that was present before was gone now, leaving only a foreboding feeling to sink on Ben.
“What does resolve or strength have to do with imminent death, you damn jeezer?!”
A mirthful smile, the first sign of emotion Ben saw on the face of the man, left him speechless.
“A confusing problem I was angry about, just like you.”
“Doubt… Anger… these emotions will only cloud the judgment on the way of Shikmus. Let them go and trust in the certainty of justice and fairness.”
The shadow of their enemy loomed above, casting a darkness over the entire complex of the monastery. If Ben wasn’t semi-aware that he was in a kind-of-memory and also inside a high-tech simulator that was beaming him into a mech he would’ve literally pissed his pants.
“⌇⎎⍜⍀.”
A swift moving fist fell from the sky, many times bigger than even the bases of the massive trunks around him. They were doomed. Ben closed his eyes and ducked low, feeling the air around them rushing to the side with the oncoming force.
Then it was still.
Ben peaked from the side of his eye, seeing the man hold back the impossibly massive claw of his adversary with seeming ease. Not even the threadbare robes that he wore were disheveled from exertion.
The tranquil, even tone of his partner whispered in his ear. “Only the just may strike with impunity.”
A single sharp crack resounded in the air, piercing above through the flesh and bone of the opposition, leaving only a red mist in place of meat.
With that, the vision came to a close. Ben felt these new memories ingrain themselves into his mind, simple vestiges of techniques ready to be used by his own hands. New-found Skills.
[ Eagle Step ] and [ Shikmus’ Strike ].
Soft knocks brought Ben back into the real world.
Even though Cael’s voice transmission was muted, Ben could see him impatiently throwing rocks in his general direction.
Turn the knob on the ceiling, Ben could hear him again. “-much longer are you going to take dude? I haven't even shown you half of my tricks yet.”
Ben smiled, pressing the red response trigger on the communicator of the suede cockpit.
“Ready.”