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The Parables: The Groom & The Sword
The Iron Sentinel - Chapter 2: First Contact

The Iron Sentinel - Chapter 2: First Contact

The low hum of the armor grew louder, resonating in the confined space of Souta’s shattered apartment. The neon blue veins of light coursing across the armor’s surface flared brighter, casting the room in an otherworldly glow. Souta’s breath hitched as the suit began to move.

It started with a subtle shift, a flicker of motion as the armor’s fingers twitched and curled, the sound of metal scraping against metal echoing ominously. Then, with a whirring of unseen mechanisms, the suit rose to its feet. The movement was impossibly smooth—mechanical yet fluid, like a predator rising from its slumber. Its towering frame loomed over Souta, the angular visor glowing with an intense, unwavering light.

Souta staggered back, his legs nearly giving out beneath him. “What the hell?!” he stammered, his voice cracking. His mind screamed at him to run, but his body was frozen in place, paralyzed by a mix of fear and disbelief.

The suit turned its head toward him, the motion precise and deliberate. Then, for the first time, it spoke.

“Souta Tanaka,” it said, its voice deep and resonant, laced with an almost metallic edge. It was distinctly masculine, commanding yet calm, as though it were both delivering a verdict and offering salvation. “You are my new host. The rider of The Iron Sentinel.”

Souta’s mouth fell open, his mind scrambling to process the words. “W-what are you talking about?” he stammered, his voice trembling. “Host? Rider? Look, I think you’ve got the wrong guy! I stock shelves! I can’t even ride a bike properly, let alone… whatever this is!”

The Iron Sentinel didn’t respond immediately. Instead, it tilted its head, the glowing visor narrowing slightly as though it were scrutinizing him. Souta took a cautious step back, his heart pounding so hard he thought it might burst.

“Stay back!” he shouted, raising his hands defensively. “I don’t know what you are, but I’m not interested! Take your… uh… glowing robot thing and go find someone else, okay?”

The suit made no move to retreat. Instead, a sudden beam of light emitted from its visor, scanning Souta from head to toe. He flinched, shielding his face with his arm, but the light was gone as quickly as it had appeared.

“Physical parameters acceptable. Neural compatibility confirmed,” the suit declared, its tone as calm and certain as ever. “Initiating host integration.”

“What?! No, no, no!” Souta shouted, stumbling backward. “I don’t want to be ‘integrated!’ Just—just leave me alone!”

Before he could react further, the Iron Sentinel’s arm shot out with lightning speed, its massive hand closing around Souta’s torso. He yelped in panic, struggling against the unyielding grip, but it was like fighting against solid steel.

“Let me go!” he yelled, thrashing wildly. “This has to be a mistake! I’m just a guy who eats too much instant ramen—there’s nothing special about me!”

The suit didn’t respond. With a smooth, almost effortless motion, it lifted Souta into the air and brought him closer. Panels on the suit’s chest began to shift and slide apart, revealing a hollow interior glowing with soft blue light. The hum of energy grew louder, and Souta’s struggles intensified.

“Wait, wait, wait!” he cried, his voice pitching higher with each word. “You can’t just shove me in there! I don’t even know what you are! This is so illegal!”

Ignoring his protests, the suit pulled him closer until his feet dangled over the opening. Souta clawed at the edges, his heart racing as he felt himself being drawn inside. “No! Stop! Somebody help—!”

His words were cut off as the panels closed around him with a resounding clang, sealing him inside. For a brief, terrifying moment, all he could hear was the sound of his own panicked breathing. Then, slowly, something began to change.

The interior of the suit was warm—not stifling, but pleasantly so, like being wrapped in a soft blanket on a cold night. The panic in Souta’s chest started to ease, replaced by an unexpected sense of calm. He realized he could still move, but the suit moved with him, responding to his slightest twitch with perfect synchronization.

“It… it doesn’t feel heavy,” he thought, astonished. “I can’t even tell it’s on!” The sensation was surreal. Instead of feeling trapped or claustrophobic, he felt weightless, as though the suit had become an extension of his own body.

The soft hum of energy pulsing through the suit was soothing, almost hypnotic. For the first time since the chaos had begun, Souta’s breathing steadied. The fear that had gripped him moments ago ebbed away, replaced by a strange sense of comfort.

“This… isn’t so bad,” he admitted quietly, his voice reverberating faintly within the helmet. He flexed his fingers, watching as the suit’s mechanical hands responded in perfect harmony. “It’s warm. Comfortable, even. How is this even possible?”

As if responding to his thoughts, the Iron Sentinel’s voice echoed in his ears, calm and steady. “Integration complete. Host neural pathways aligned. Welcome, Souta Tanaka, to your destiny.”

Souta blinked, his mind still reeling from the surreal turn of events. “Destiny?” he muttered, his voice tinged with disbelief. “What destiny? I didn’t sign up for this!”

But even as the questions piled up in his mind, a small, undeniable part of him couldn’t help but wonder: What if this is it? The ‘more’ I’ve been waiting for?

He sat in stunned silence, his thoughts swirling as the suit stood motionless in the wreckage of his apartment. For better or worse, his ordinary life was over—and something extraordinary had just begun.

As Souta sat in stunned silence within the Iron Sentinel, his mind racing with questions and disbelief, the suit’s calm, authoritative voice spoke once more, cutting through his chaotic thoughts.

“I am the Iron Sentinel,” it said. “But you may address me as ‘Sentinel.’ It is customary for hosts to name their integrated companion. However, for simplicity, I have preselected this designation.”

Souta blinked, his body still acclimating to the suit’s seamless movements. “Wait, wait,” he stammered. “So you’re alive? Like, you can think and… talk? You’re basically a person?”

“I am an advanced combat and reconnaissance system,” Sentinel replied, its tone steady and matter-of-fact. “I am designed to enhance the capabilities of my host and assist in their designated role.”

“Designated role?” Souta repeated, a hint of panic creeping into his voice. “Look, buddy, I don’t know who sent you or what ‘role’ you’re talking about, but I’m just a guy! I work at a grocery store! You’ve got the wrong person!”

“There is no error,” Sentinel said, its voice unwavering. “You are the chosen host. All hosts must undergo preliminary integration training. Beginning tutorial mode.”

“Wait, what? Tutorial? No—hold on—”

Before Souta could protest further, Sentinel’s systems flared to life. The interior of the suit lit up with holographic displays, intricate lines of data and symbols flashing before his eyes. A faint vibration ran through the suit as it straightened, and Souta felt himself being guided, his body moving with the suit as though it had a mind of its own.

“Lesson one,” Sentinel announced. “Scanning and analysis. Initiating environment scan.”

The visor over Souta’s eyes shifted, overlaying his surroundings with a grid-like pattern. Numbers and symbols began to cascade across his field of vision, identifying objects in his wrecked apartment—"table," "debris," "damaged ceiling." A faint beep sounded as the scan completed, and a holographic map of the room materialized before him.

“Whoa,” Souta murmured, his fear momentarily giving way to awe. “You can just… analyze everything like that?”

“Correct,” Sentinel replied. “This function allows for situational awareness and strategic planning. Host command required to activate enhanced scanning features.”

Souta hesitated, still overwhelmed. “Uh… activate enhanced scanning?”

At his words, the grid expanded, and the display zoomed out, revealing not just his apartment but the surrounding area. Heat signatures appeared, marking people moving in neighboring apartments and on the street below. Souta’s jaw dropped.

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“This is insane,” he said. “I can see through walls?!”

“Partially correct,” Sentinel replied. “The system processes ambient thermal data to generate predictive imaging. Next lesson: technology and gadgets.”

Before Souta could ask what that meant, panels on the suit’s forearms slid open, revealing small, sleek devices embedded within. One of them projected a faint blue light, displaying a series of holographic controls.

“These tools are for hacking, disabling, and overriding external systems,” Sentinel explained. “Host command can deploy these devices for reconnaissance or combat support.”

Souta stared at the holographic interface, barely comprehending. “Wait, wait, wait. Hacking? Like, breaking into stuff? That’s illegal!”

“Host ethical considerations are noted,” Sentinel said flatly. “However, these tools are essential for survival in hostile environments. Proceeding to weapons demonstration.”

“Wait—what weapons?!” Souta shouted, but it was too late.

The panels on the suit’s forearms shifted again, and two sleek cannons extended from his wrists. A targeting reticle appeared in his visor, locking onto a piece of fallen debris in the corner of the room. Before Souta could react, the suit’s arm moved on its own, and a burst of energy fired from the cannon, obliterating the debris into a puff of dust.

“Destruction confirmed,” Sentinel said. “Weapons are calibrated and operational.”

Souta’s eyes widened as he stared at the smoldering remains of the debris. “You just blew that up! Without asking me! What if I didn’t want to blow it up?”

“All actions are optimized for host survival,” Sentinel replied. “Next lesson: flight.”

Souta barely had time to process the words before the suit’s systems hummed to life again. He felt a sudden shift in weight as the thrusters on his back and feet powered up, their low whine quickly building into a deafening roar.

“No, no, no, no, no!” Souta shouted, gripping the edges of the suit’s armrests as if that would somehow anchor him. “I’m not ready for—”

Before he could finish, the suit launched into the air, crashing through the already-destroyed roof and into the night sky. The wind roared past him, his apartment shrinking into a speck below as the suit ascended higher and higher.

“Flight mode engaged,” Sentinel announced. “Adjusting trajectory for controlled maneuvering.”

“Controlled?! This is the opposite of controlled!” Souta screamed, his voice barely audible over the rush of wind. His body tensed, every instinct screaming at him to hold on for dear life, even though there was nothing to hold onto.

The suit tilted slightly, banking into a smooth turn as it began to circle the city. Souta’s breathing was ragged, his heart pounding so hard he thought it might burst. But then, as the initial panic began to fade, something unexpected happened.

He felt… weightless.

The wind against his face, the lights of Tokyo sprawling out beneath him, the sheer freedom of soaring through the air—it was exhilarating. For the first time in his life, he wasn’t bound by gravity, by monotony, by anything. He was free.

“This is…” Souta whispered, his fear giving way to awe. “This is incredible.”

“Host acclimation noted,” Sentinel said. “Flight systems calibrated. Tutorial complete.”

As the suit began its descent, Souta’s mind raced, the reality of what had just happened sinking in. He had just flown—flown. He was wearing a suit that could scan, hack, fight, and soar through the sky. And somehow, it had chosen him.

As they touched down on the rooftop of a nearby building, Souta stepped out of the suit’s control, his legs trembling but his spirit electrified. For the first time in years, he didn’t feel like a background character. He felt like the start of something extraordinary.

“What the hell have I gotten myself into?” he muttered, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth despite himself.

Souta stood on the rooftop, the night breeze ruffling his hair through the barely perceptible seams of the suit. His breath was still unsteady, his heart pounding from the sheer exhilaration of what he’d just experienced. For the first time in what felt like forever, he felt… alive. Truly, undeniably alive.

He glanced at the faintly glowing visor inside his helmet, its soft blue light casting a calming hue over his face. “So, uh… Sentinel,” he began, still trying to steady his voice, “what… what am I supposed to do now? You’ve got all this crazy technology, these insane abilities… I mean, what’s next?”

The Sentinel’s voice, calm and unwavering, filled his ears. “Your path is your own, Host. The Iron Sentinel exists to assist, enhance, and protect. What you do with these capabilities is entirely your choice.”

“My choice?” Souta repeated, a slow smile creeping across his face. For once, he didn’t feel like life was dragging him along, forcing him into a mold he didn’t want to fit. For the first time, he felt like he could decide. He looked out over the cityscape, the lights of Tokyo twinkling beneath him. The suit hummed faintly around him, warm and reassuring.

“Well, if it’s my choice…” Souta said, his grin widening. “Then it’s time to see the world.”

He paused, glancing down at the gleaming armor encasing his body. “Hey, Sentinel,” he said, a sudden thought striking him. “This thing can go camouflage, right? I mean, I can’t exactly go sightseeing like this. I’ll scare people to death.”

“Affirmative,” Sentinel replied. “Camouflage mode engaged.”

The armor shimmered, the neon blue lights fading until the suit blended seamlessly into the night sky. Souta raised his hands, marveling as even the slight glow of his fingers disappeared, leaving him invisible to the naked eye.

“That’s so cool,” Souta whispered to himself before shaking his head. “Alright, Sentinel. Let’s start with something big. Something exciting. Take me to… I don’t know, Barcelona. I’ve always wanted to see it in person.”

“Destination acknowledged,” Sentinel said. “Navigational guidance activated.”

“Sweet!” Souta said, pumping his fist. He stepped to the edge of the rooftop, staring out at the horizon. “Okay, time to fly again. No big deal. I got this. I’m a natural.”

With a deep breath, he leapt from the rooftop. The thrusters on the suit roared to life, propelling him upward with a burst of energy. For a brief moment, he soared through the air, weightless and free.

Then he spun out of control.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Souta yelped, flailing his arms as he corkscrewed through the sky. The city below blurred into a dizzying mess of lights and motion. “Sentinel! Help! What am I doing wrong?!”

“Stabilize your center of gravity,” Sentinel said, its voice calm despite Souta’s panic. “Adjust your arm positioning to counteract rotational drift.”

“What does that even mean?!” Souta shouted, flailing even more wildly. He nearly collided with a radio tower before jerking himself to the side, the movement causing him to spin in the opposite direction.

“Relax your movements. Let the suit guide you,” Sentinel instructed.

“Easy for you to say!” Souta muttered, gritting his teeth. He forced himself to stop flailing and focused on steadying his arms and legs. The suit’s thrusters adjusted automatically, the wild spinning slowing until he was gliding in a straight line.

“There you go,” Sentinel said. “Flight stabilization achieved.”

Souta let out a shaky laugh. “Okay… okay, I think I’ve got it now.” He tilted slightly to one side, testing his ability to turn, and the suit responded instantly, banking smoothly to the right. “Oh man, this is incredible!”

With newfound confidence, Souta began to climb higher, the lights of Tokyo shrinking below him. The cool air rushed past him, the sound of the thrusters a steady hum in his ears. He soared over the city, then the countryside, the sprawling lights replaced by the dark patches of forests and mountains.

As he left Japan behind, the ocean stretched out before him, vast and shimmering under the moonlight. He skimmed low over the water, the waves glittering beneath him like a sea of stars. The scent of salt filled his senses, and he couldn’t help but laugh.

“This is unreal,” he said, grinning ear to ear. “I can’t believe I’m actually doing this.”

The Sentinel’s voice chimed in. “Adjusting trajectory. Estimated arrival in Barcelona in approximately four hours.”

“Four hours, huh?” Souta said, glancing around at the endless ocean below. “Well, I’ve got time to enjoy the view.”

He flew onward, passing over remote islands and skimming the edges of vast rainforests. He saw herds of animals roaming freely across open plains, their silhouettes barely visible in the moonlight. Rivers snaked through lush greenery, their surfaces reflecting the stars above.

As he approached Europe, the landscape transformed into sprawling cities and rugged coastlines. He soared over glowing metropolises, the lights twinkling like constellations. He passed highways alive with traffic, rivers winding their way through valleys, and massive bridges connecting distant shores.

Finally, as the first hints of dawn began to touch the horizon, he saw it—the vibrant, sprawling city of Barcelona. The city unfolded below him like a masterpiece painted in vivid colors, its architectural wonders shining in the soft glow of sunrise. The unmistakable curves of La Sagrada Família reached skyward, its intricate spires like frozen whispers of divine inspiration. The Mediterranean sparkled in the distance, its waves lapping gently at the shores.

Souta descended toward the city, his movements now smooth and confident. He approached Torre Glòries, one of the tallest and most iconic buildings in the city, and landed gently on its rooftop. The thrusters powered down with a soft hiss, and Souta stood perched atop the skyscraper, gazing out at the breathtaking view.

The golden hues of sunrise bathed the city in warmth, highlighting the winding streets of the Gothic Quarter, the sprawling greenery of Parc Güell, and the vibrant mosaic tiles of the city’s many landmarks. The air was alive with the faint sound of waves, the hum of waking life, and the distant melody of street musicians preparing for the day.

Souta took a deep breath, his chest swelling with exhilaration. “This is it,” he said softly. “This is what I’ve been missing.”

For the first time, he didn’t feel like a background character. He felt like the start of something extraordinary.