INTRO - FAILURE
Flames litter the ground, wreckages of mighty ships and artillery vehicles lie dead and defunct. Their charred and ruined hulls lurch and crumble mournfully under the heavy rain. Scattered throughout their desolate target, the machinery will make fine building material for the village once this battle is over. Now, however, they acted as temporary shelter for both sides of this bloody conflict, the tribal techno warriors who call this village home, and the vicious raiders and pirates who came to steal from and enslave them.
Small battles, shootouts, and the like sprang up across the wooden bridges and muddy pits of the village. Children attack lone raiders in groups, the injured and wounded from the battle outside the great walls provide covering fire for their fellows, beasts once tamed as pets are unleashed upon the fortified invaders. Yet this is but a snapshot of the battle raging outside of the walls. War beasts the size of tanks battle against rail cannons and siege machines. All the while tribal warriors armed with nothing more than Plas-Rifles, holo-blades, and rocket spears, take the battle to hardened psychopaths armored in the finest plate and equipped with the most elite weaponry.
It was a brutal affair, and he saw it all from his perch. It was the first image to grace his cracked visor, the horror of it all clear for him to see.
“H- How did I get here?”
He rasped, his throat still partially severed and leaking that viscous cerulean blood.
“You are awake! Good, good, I feared we lost you and all of our hopes of winning this battle.”
Wincing in pain, he struggled in his attempt to turn his head away from the violence and toward the voice.
“Do not trouble yourself with unnecessary movement. You know my voice, you know you are safe.”
The man was right, he did know his voice. It was that of the Village Elder, a man he came to call friend long ago. Therefore, he was in the Palace, far from the breach in the great wall. Far from… Him.
“Anaya brought you here after your battle with the Borg Negas. She did not have time to tell me how this happened, though I can make assumptions.”
Negas, the name sent a flash of violent images through his mind. Pain, death, devastation, all synonymous with the leader of the Pirates, an eight foot half avian, half mechanical monstrosity. The same monstrosity that nearly killed him, moments earlier.
“Cummot, Thunnen! Come! Lift Warrior CAL to the edge of the bed.”
Two of the largest warriors did exactly that, allowing CAL to not only see the Elder, but more importantly, to see himself. Taking a long, hard look at his battered form, he was unsurprised to see it was a wreck. Feeling the pulsating pain of his missing left forearm, only a handful of wires and bloodsoaked coiled hung limply in its place. The once pristine white armor plates across his body were cracked, many of them completely missing. The polished cerulean blue flex metal covering his joints and under his plating leaked blood and other fluids. His slender form was designed to take a beating, but not one this horrific. The gaping hole bisecting his stomach barely had time to fully heal, rupturing during his battle, several organs and systems were left both damaged and exposed. His severed leg, sparked and sputtered, oozing black liquid like an oil mill. Even his head was damaged, the gaunt, near featureless helm was scarred, a jagged slash stretched from his right temple to the left side of his chin. Resulting in his facemask breaking nearly clean down the middle, revealing his electric blue skin.
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“Well, I can’t really think of the last time you saw me this messed up.”
CAL said with a struggling laugh.
“Neither can I.”
The Elder said laughing.
A sudden series of thumps on the roof shifted the jovial tone of the room back to a grim seriousness. Both of the guards aimed their spears toward the hatch on the roof, awaiting the intruder.
A meek child’s voice barely penetrated the thick wood of the roof.
“Elder? We have the goopy stuff.”
“Cummot, the hatch.”
The burly warrior pulled the rope of the hatch down, allowing the two children to hop into the room. CAL instantly recognized them both, Lulona and Flora, Kubrow’s girls. Neither older than ten, both adorable kids in far too grim of a situation. The two girls held glowing sacks upon their backs.
“Good job girls! Hand the bags to CAL.”
Taking the bags, he patted them both on the head.
“Ah, I would hug both of you but I’m a bloody mess right now.”
Looking both girls in the eye, he pulled them in close.
“Listen up girls, I have one more special task for you. I need you both to go grab something from your dad’s house, do you think you can do that for me?”
They nodded, eager to hear of the task. Whispering in their ears, they giggled as CAL finished instructing them, running off as Cal opened the bags. Pulling out a amorphous blue jelly, he absorbed it, doing the same with the rest in the bags. His body quickly restored itself, all of the damage, save for his missing arm regenerated instantly.
“Back to 65%! Could have asked for more but this’ll do.”
“It would seem not a moment too soon, Warrior CAL.”
The Elder said, looking through the window behind CAL.
CAL matched his gaze, seeing dozens of Pirates and Raiders marching up the hill toward the palace. Smiling with grim delight, he lifted his hand in front of him, a pulsing green energy flowing through his entire arm.
“I was hoping to get a warm up before round two with the bionic titan.”
Looking back to the Elder, CAL’s smile faded.
“In case, things go south. I want you to know you have been a great friend to me, and an even better leader for your people.”
The Elder smiled, placing a hand on his mechanical friend’s shoulder.
“Go with the fury of the gods, my friend and bring us the heads of our enemies.”
CAL’s face mask closed, and in an instant he was gone. Green lights and explosions within the encroaching forces being the one indication of his location.
“My friend…”
The Elder hung his head, watching the carnage below.
“The hopes of our people rest in your hands. May our warrior spirits lead you to victory.”