Superheroes and super robots dot the landscape of this changing world, as old threats are toppled and new threats arise. Although this tiny rock around an insignificant star in the solar system holds no real importance now, their destiny is to resculpt the entire universe in their image.
This is, after all, the fate of all beings permitted to uncontrollably evolve.
Young hero, with your machine, blaze a trail to the future!
Lying on the roof makes you intimately familiar with the sound of your own heartbeat. In the cold, sharp air of the night-time Brockton Bay, it was pulsing too loudly under your skin. Despite the cold snap against your face, the spider silk costume was growing unbearably hot. You told yourself that that was because of the dragon down on the street. Flames roiled off of his blazing, metallic body, as he scanned the street looking for you. Looking to kill you.
You needed to get out. It wasn't a question. It was a certainty. Your bugs were useless. In the small of your back, you carried pepper spray, chalk dust, rope, and something. Nothing that would keep Lung from killing you for even an instant. Carefully, quietly, you looked behind you. You couldn't go inside the building. Lung would flush you out and then you'd die. You couldn't go off the side of the building. You'd fall to your death no matter how many bugs you got together. The fire escape, then, was your only option.
It wasn't a good one. If you were caught before you were more than halfway down, you were dead.
But it was better than any of the other choices, and Lung was starting to pace around, and any second he would look up and you'd be dead soon after.
You swallowed. Your heart drummed on your ribcage. Softly, you pushed up, and stepped.
crunch
Your heart stopped.
Lung whipped around instantly.
In the next, he was gone.
The shriek of tattered rebar and the orange glow on the lip of the rooftop told you that he had jumped straight to your building.
Frantically, you scrabbled backwards, awkwardly stumbling into an all-out sprint. Your legs beat faster then they ever had on the downhill. Dimly, you were certain that the zone of nothingness that your bugs would normally fill was Lung's presence. It covered the lip of the roof.
You turned around, legs skittering on the loose gravel. His arm was curled over the lip of the roof, as he slowly raised himself. Fire warped the air, and the smell of sizzling asphalt reminded you of what he was about to do to you. Hysterically, you recalled something about burnt flesh smelling like pork, or bacon, or something. Desperately, you fumbled for the small of your back, the things you had back there. You were certain that none of it was going to help you but you were also certain that you were going to die and it would be better to try something anything -
The slamming sound of his other arm digging into the rooftop jolted your fingers into moving and grabbing the pepper spray. Frantically, you pushed down on the trigger in his general direction. The spray went wide, missing his head entirely but grazing the errant sparks of fire trailing off his body. The spray exploded into a small explosion, not enough to hurt but just enough to distract him. You breathed in sharply and recentered the spray and pulled the trigger and he screamed and screamed and you held down the trigger as the spray caught fire and entered his eyes and he squeezed his eyes shut and pulled himself over and you suddenly realized you needed to be off the roof -
The white sheet of flames snapped you out of your confusion and you fell over on your back and rolled over desparately and you don't think you smelled anything burning and Lung roared like the sound of a jet engine and a lion's roar at the same time and it was terrifying knowing that the heat should've killed you and that this desperate stream of consciousness was probably going to be the last thing you knew -
- and a white sheet exploded across the world for a second time. The stuff was rigid, instantly sealing over and becoming impossible to move and you thought that this seemed like the PRT containment foam that Mr. Gladly had somehow brought it once as a demonstration and then you realized it probably was containment foam and realized that you were stuck and Lung was going to killyou while you were helpless and looked over and saw a white wall between you and Lung. The inside of the wall, no, mound, you corrected, was glowing orange, Lung furious that you were on the other side.
The roar of an engine became painfully loud and you looked up and wondered how you ever missed such a loud sound coming from such a huge machine in the sky. Far away, it was lit only by the red ports around the searing blue exhaust. As it descended, you saw that the mech was painted a dark blue, tinged with red and gold highlights around vents and nozzles, and with prominent blue wings and high-flared shoulders framing the head with oversized ears and one red visor.
It touched down right in front of your building, red eye sweeping over the mountain of containment foam.
Slowly, ponderously, the machine raised it's arms and cupped the orange mass. Something hissed, and only now you noticed the three stakes on the left arm that were spraying some sort of mist into the containment foam. Gradually, heart pounding instant by heart pounding instant, you saw the orange light dim, before winking out.
Finally, the red eye turned to look directly at you.
"You're new," the voice stated. "Are you an independent?"
Your heart races, and before you can really think you're blurting out: "N-no, I'm a hero," you stutter.
"You don't look like one," the voice dismissed, and even in your exhausted state your indignation flares.
"Look, I wanted to build a quality costume that would actually protect me, and it's not my fault that halfway through the project I realized it looks way edgier than I imagined," you shoot back.
A pause echoed in the air, and suddenly you realized how much colder the night air was.
"You're telling the truth," the voice sounded, "and I've never seen you before. What's your name?"
"I haven't had time to come up with a name," you defensively responded. "It's really hard to come up with a bug-themed name that doesn't sound dorky or villainous, you know?"
"Ah," the machine responded. "I wouldn't know. I got into the game early enough that I had my pick of good names."
Wait a second, you thought. Large machine, got into the game early, and a hero? Wasn't this Armsmaster?
"Uh." you awkwardly interjected. "Are you Armsmaster?"
"Yes, I - oh, right, this machine hasn't been officially revealed yet. Yes, I am Armsmaster," he said.
"Oh," you said, breathing lightly. The adrenaline was crashing, leaving you completely exhausted. Your arms crumpled, and you let myself fall flat on the gravel rooftop. The jagged stones bit into your skin but your limbs are relieved.
"I almost died," you nonchalantly uttered, so spent you can't help but say whatever comes across your brain.
"That's what the Wards are for," Armsmaster replied, tone absent of judgement. Somewhere over there, the noise of machinery locking into place echoed.
You almost change the subject, but Armsmaster interjects first, almost hurriedly.
"Listen, if you're new, I should tell you that we offer you resources, training, and the safe environment you need in order to develop to your full potential as a person and as a hero. We have oversight, yes, but we offer a guarantee of protection and resources that no other organization can truly give you.
"Think it over. If you eventually decide to do so, tell the receptionists that Armsmaster vouched for you."
[] Accept. [FLAG ACE START]
Perk - Instinct I: When piloting, for every 10 Morale gained, gain 1 Evasion and 1 Skill. 1x reroll per mission.
[] Decline. [GRAND THEFT GESPENST START]
Perk - Daring I: Once per mission phase, add +5 to any roll.
Taylor Hebert, protagonist.
Traits:
Instinct I: When piloting, for every 10 Morale gained, gain 1 Evasion and 1 Skill. 1x reroll per mission.
Bug Controller I: +1 Evasion. +1 Accuracy. When in land environments, always know enemy location and number, regardless of non-Trump countermeasures.
Mechanics: Each Mission is it's own narrative arc. Each Mission Phase is an update. I will be rolling 1d20s as a generic "what happens every update", factoring in unique traits, abilities, or circumstances that might influence the roll.
Combat will largely be based on a simplified SRW engine; the same stat blocks apply, but I will frequently abbreviate many parts of rolling because fundamentally I just want to tell a super robot story, not "how many dice can I dump out of the back of the truck" story.
These stats are, broken down by category:
General pilot stats:
CQB: Melee damage stat.
Ranged: Ranged damage stat.
Defense: Damage reduction stat.
Evasion: Evasion stat.
Accuracy: To-hit stat.
Skill: Crit chance and catch-all stat.
Mecha stats:
HP: Hit points
EN: Available Energy
Sight: Accuracy
Mobi: Evasion rate
Move: Movement range.
Super Robot Wars are giant crossover series. Expect to figure out things as you go along.
Confirmed series thus far:
Worm
Gundam 00
SRW Original Generation
Mazinger Z
Pacific Rim
The Brave Express Might Gaine
Soft-confirmed:
Tengen Toppa Gurren Lagann
So this is basically a project where I get to blow off some steam waiting for my other quest to get votes and discussion and all that jazz - this quest is going to be much faster paced and much less planned. As such, I'm not expecting it to impact the update speed of Ace Combat XCOM, but, well, you never know.
"That concludes the power test," Miss Militia said. "Congratulations on your test; your spatial awareness is really something else, spotting targets we didn't even include as part of the exercise. You might not have the sheer hitting power that some other capes have, but information is a huge part of superhero work; in fact, I'd argue that over 99% of our job is information gathering, and you clearly excel at that."
You nod, trying to accept praise for your bruised ego. You knew that Miss Militia was just lying to make you feel better; Aegis literally flew straight at you and forced you into a grapple in ten seconds flat, and that was just embarassing. Then again, bug control was your power, and you knew from the beginning that you had to play to your strengths: unseen information gathering, not direct confrontation.
That night had taught you that there were some things out there that were too strong to fight.
Fight directly, you corrected yourself.
"All that's left is a visit to PR, and you'll be a full-fledged Ward. Have you given any thought to your hero name?" Miss Militia blithely continued on.
You shake your head. You kept trying, but you still didn't have anything good. If you couldn't think of it in three months, you certainly weren't able to think of it in the few days since Armsmaster had extended you that invitation. Maybe if you still had your hero notebook - but you didn't have it, so there was no point thinking about it and the reason why - you said you weren't going to think about which three girls laughed as they ruined months of your hard work.
Dammit. Now your fists were clenching, and the urge to punch something was starting to pool in your fists.
Deep breaths, Taylor. They couldn't hurt the hero you had become.
Miss Militia looked askance at your display. "While it's a little unusual to have someone want to punch Glenn Chambers before even meeting him, I assure you he's very good at what he does, even if he does make you want to punch him by the end of it. Certainly, if he has the ability to turn even Shadow Stalker into a heroic figure, he can make you into a public hero," she reassured.
You knew about Shadow Stalker's reputation, so you took her words with a healthy dump truck full of salt.
"I see that you don't believe me, and I understand that," Miss Militia said, eyes crinkling in a half-smile, as she casually shrugged. "Most teenagers don't like believing adults when they tell them things, but I'm sure you'll understand eventually," she said.
You rolled your eyes.
"Now," she jokingly said, "that's -
The building suddenly rumbled. The lights dimmed, and then cut out completely. Klaxons blared loudly all around you and into your bug's ears, nearly overwhelming you with the sheer volume of sound.
"ENEMY ATTACK ON PROTECTORATE HEADQUARTERS! ENEMY ATTACK ON PROTECTORATE HEADQUARTERS!" the announcer sounded, in between the blares of the klaxon.
Suddenly, Miss Militia's hand grabs your shoulder, and her blazing eyes look right at you. You can't bring yourself to look away, but you can barely withstand her piercing gaze anyway.
"Head through the secondary vehicle garage and go straight to the Wards bunker. Wait there for us, do you understand me?"
Frantically you nod. She lets go of your shoulder, and points you towards the exit. You turn, and see her turn and break into a full sprint towards the enemy. Then you're alone with the blare of the klaxon and the dim hallways lit with the low red of emergency lighting. Your body breaks out into a full run, as your bugs feel the base explode like a disturbed wasp's nest. As you sprint, you start gathering your swarm, getting yourself ready for a fight.
Breaking out into the cavernous secondary vehicle hangar, you notice the oversized container box, highlighted by the light streaming in from the open window. You couldn't help but notice that it was way longer and taller than the standard shipping size - your Dad's complaints about their size and regularity had drilled the feel of a regular shipping container into your mind.
In the distressingly near distance, you heard the groaning and shrieking of torn metal. That feeling of your bugs suddenly moving, then, would be a huge gash being torn out of a garage. You hear its step and feel its takeoff more than you see the dark blue Gespenst move, and smash a PRT vehicle.
A few thoughts crash into your mind. The Gespenst trivially defeating Lung. The Gespenst smashing a PRT vehicle. You and your swarm of bugs would be squished flat. The shipping container looked big enough to hold the Gespenst. There might be another mecha in that box. That was really your only chance.
Fortunately, there was a door left open on the box. You sprinted around and in, as you heard the whooshing sound of the Gespenst's engines roaring over the tarmac. Inside the pitch blackness, you couldn't see anything. That was fine. You poured your swarm into the shipping container, feeling the huge mass inside. In your mind, you started putting together what it was: a curvature here, a seam here, and a large protrusion there.
It was a giant robot, and it was your only hope.
Your swarm of bugs focused in on the cockpit, as you found the set of footholds you were supposed to use to clamber up. Focused in on such a small area, you swore you could feel even the smallest dent a dropped wrench had left on the paint. Finding the cockpit hatch lever was trivial, and you pulled with all of your might, as you heard the sound of metal crumpling outside.
The cockpit hatch snapped open, and roughly deposited you into the seat upside-down. As the blue screen began to light up, you franticallly turned yourself right side up.
"Establishing test pilot identity. What is your name?" a cool metallic voice sounded.
"Ah..." you hesitated, before a name flashed into your mind: "Arachne!" you shouted.
"Acknowledging test pilot Arachne," the voice said. "Protectorate Flag model number YMS-01A, registering test flight 7," the voice sounded. "Connecting with available console controller," it said, minimizing itself to a corner as the main feed of the camera showed the container box opening up.
"Wait," you said, shocked. "Connecting to console controller?"
The machine didn't respond, so you tried settling your hands against the obvious controls, hands moving to the throttles and feet moving to the petals.
Suddenly, the machine took on a feminine face with a stylized dragon head in the corner, callsign - "Dragon?!" you exclaimed.
"What? Who are you, and why are you in the Flag?" Dragon asked.
"I'm...I'm Arachne, and the base is under attack!" you quickly stammer.
As if to punctuate to your point, a truly massive explosion rattles the container.
"I see. Do you know how to operate this machine?" she asked.
Dumbly, you shook your head.
"I see. I'll set it to the basic mode. It'll be just like a car, if also with a button to launch attacks and block, got it?" Dragon said.
"Got it," you say with considerably more confidence then you feel.
"Then go," she said, as the machine rose up in the sunlight. A screen appeared in the lower left corner, depicting ally units vanishing following the trail of an allied Gespenst unit as it made a beeline straight for the loading bays. Not so allied now, you grimly thought. The closer you looked, the more you noticed that the Gespenst was making a beeline straight for your area.
Pushing your sticks forward, your Flag lurched forward into the sunlight. Awkwardly turning right and then left as you figured out the turn, you suddenly saw that the Gespenst wasn't alone; two small figures were riding three large dogs the size of pickup trucks alongside Gespenst, as they roared down the open deck of the rig.
You pressed your lips tight. Hellhound, you had heard, could make these oversized dogs.
So.
You were fighting in an unfamiliar Flag, against a Gespenst, the villain Hellhound, and one other unknown cape, probably a villain.
Even as your gut roiled in protest, you smiled an ugly grin.
What a way to become a hero.
[] Charge at them. [Spirit Command: Bullseye]
{Activate Bullseye (Guaranteed Hit) and Focus (Increased chance to hit, decreased chance to be hit) for the first attack, trigger Instinct with Morale bonuses, dodge return attacks for extra Morale, become completely untouchable Flag Ace}
[] Stay back. [Spirit Command: Flash]
{Wait for them to approach, activate Focus (Increased chance to hit, decreased chance to be hit) or Flash (Guaranteed Dodge), kite the opponents as you build SP and Morale, become completely untouchable Flag Ace with repeated Instinct triggers.}
Right, then. They were trying to escape, and had the advantage in numbers. If you let them circle you, that was it.
You had to attack.
Calling whatever passed for a swarm to you, you slammed forwards on the throttles and stepped on the right pedal to hover (having the controls show up opaquely on the screen was a huge help, even though Dragon minimized her presence). Your Flag rocketed forward to the whining sound of thrusters powering up. Across from you, the Gespenst and its three dogs split up. Drawing one of the stakes from its arm smoothly, the Gespenst lit up a bright pink beam atop the stake and brandished it forward, like a Jedi straight out of Star Wars.
You narrowed your eyes, and flicked your eyes to the sides of the screen. Right throttle for attack, left throttle for defense.
Right throttle it was.
In the press of a button, your Flag drew your own lightsaber handle to match (the popup read "beam saber selected", but you didn't know why), and activated the shining white beam. Across from each other, your machines thrusters roared as everything else vanished from sight.
In such a big machine on machine fight, your swarm would be useless - unless, of course, you were willing to use the fact that you always knew where each bug was. By tracing the outline of the fighters, it was obvious where everyone was. More specifically, even as your screen showed the Gespenst's red visor flashing and moving from side to side, you always knew where it was, even as you both slowed down to begin positioning for your attacks.
FLAG BEAM SABER CHANCE TO HIT: GUARANTEED
ROLL: IRRELEVANT
HIT
GESPENST HP: 20/24
+9 MORALE
GESPENST BEAM SABER CHANCE TO HIT: 30%
ROLL: 8
MISS
+5 MORALE
+3 SP Instinct I: +1 Evasion, +1 Skill.
And in that movement you saw an opening. The hypnotic sway of the Gespent's arm pulled back too far in to their body. Slamming your throttle forward, your white saber slams into their pink saber, before your physical machines slam into each other. The impat rocks you to your core as launched forward in your seat by the backlash, straps pressing into your costume.
But that didn't matter.
What mattered was that the Gespent's guard was broken, and you still had a grip on your beam saber. "Right, there!" you shouted, lunging forward. The saber in your hand moved to slash the Gespenst's chest, and immediately your arm met heavy resistance. Gritting your teeth, you kept pushing. Inch by inch, the beam saber dragged itself across the Gespenst's chest, scoring a deep burn mark into the paint.
Once it broke free of the Gespenst's armor, however, your arm kept going, and brought your back in front of the Gespenst. You didn't have any way to look behind you, it appeared, but that wasn't a problem; your bugs scattered across the Gespenst told you how it moved, even as your bugs died by the hundreds like so much debris on a windshield. And they told you that the follow through attack was coming down from directly above, in one downwards slashing motion.
You boosted to your right and continued the turn, watching the pink blade slash the air in front of you.
Sucking air in, you stepped back half a step. The Gespent spared a moment to turn back at you, and you took a moment to breathe back out.
The gash your beam saber left had melted some metal on the Gespenst's plate. Sparks popping out of near the gash told you that you had probably damaged some electronics in there. Overall, though, it didn't look like you did any real damage. You knew that you had, though, and you hadn't taken any damage in response. That was enough to bring the ugly grin back to your face.
You could do this.
"Tch. Undersiders, we're leaving!" the Gespenst's pilot called out, filtered through a mechanical process that stripped its voice of all identifying features.
Hm. So the boss of the Undersiders was piloting the Gespenst. That meant that out of the four known members of the Undersiders, it was probably Tattletale or Grue sitting inside that machine. You filed that fact away for later.
"Oh no you don't," you muttered, pushing my throttles forward. With an earpiercing whistle, and a shouted "Brutus! Angelica!", two oversized dogs lunged at your machine. The Gespenst turned around, and throttled up, while the cape on the third dog, dressed in all-black with a motorcycle helmet spewed darkness in an expanding cloud in front of him. Your radar completely fritzed out, but the bugs planted all over the dogs and the Gespenst told you exactly where they were anyway.
That meant the pilot of the Gespenst was probably Tattletale, just by the process of elimination, you thought. Mentally, you file that away for later.
Because first, you need to shake these two dogs.
BRUTUS BITE CHANCE TO HIT: 20%
ROLL: 15
MISS
+5 MORALE
FLAG PUNCH CHANCE TO HIT: 60%
ROLL: 17
HIT
BRUTUS HP: 3/6 HP
+8 MORALE
+3 SP
INSTINCT I: +1 Evasion, +1 Skill
ANGELICA BITE CHANCE TO HIT: 10%
ROLL: 5
MISS
+5 MORALE
INSTINCT I: +1 Evasion, +1 Skill
FLAG ROTARY DEFLECTOR ATTACK CHANCE TO HIT: 60%
ROLL: 16
HIT
ANGELICA HP: 2/6 HP
+9 MORALE
+3 SP
INSTINCT I: +1 Evasion, +1 Skill
One dog, coming from behind you and to your left, and the other attacking directly from the right. The one behind you was leaping high, the one to your right was staggered and would be attacking just after the first one. You looked at your controls again; you were limited to a basic slicing pattern with your beam saber, or directly punching your enemies. With the two capes on the back of the dogs, you weren't going to risk accidentally frying one of the Undersiders with the beam saber, so your fist was going to have to do.
As you flicked off the beam saber, you took in your situation. It seemed like the right move would be to boost either backward in response to the obvious threat of the dog to your right; however, your bugs told you that that would lead you right into the second pouncing dog. So instead, you pushed forward on the throttle and lunged straight at the dog in front. Coming to a short stop, you planted your feet just as the dog opened its mouth to take a bite out of you. Your fist lashed out and smashed into the dog's stomach with all the force of the Flag's power behind it, stopping both dead cold.
Using the dead stop to your advantage, you boosted backwards and to the side, aware that the dog behind you had reoriented itself and was about to make its attack.
"Dragon, give me more control. I can handle it," you said.
"Understood, Arachne." her icon flashed, and suddenly you had control over your joints and your deflector arm.
Perfect, you grinned.
Touching down on the ground, you pivoted on the Flag's ankle and raised your deflector arm high; the maneuver you were doing had little room for error, but you judged the lunging dog's angle perfectly, even as you saw a girl - Hellhound, you connected - holding onto the dog. As its snarling mouth passed by, you brought the arm down, sending the airborne dog crashing into the pavement with your arm resting on it. A button, a flick, and the deflector arm slammed into the dog, drawing out a yip of pain, except from a dog the size of a truck.
You felt slightly bad for it. Slightly.
Shaking your head, and suddenly realizing that even your breathable costume still built up heat and sticky sweat, you focused back in on your task. The Gespenst was getting away, and you were getting distracted. The one dog in the black mist that Grue was putting out was trying to stand between you and the fleeing Gespenst; that wouldn't do.
Manually adjusting the direction of the boosters, you leapt up into the air. With the help of your onboard engines, you boost directly over the dark cloud and come to a forward hover right behind the Gespenst. Flicking your white saber back online, you slash from below, only to watch the Gespenst slide left and then keep sprinting for the edge of the HQ.
"Careful," Dragon's voice sounded. "You only have thirty seconds more operation time," she said.
So little? "Isn't there any way I can get any more?" you ask frustratedly, trying to pin down the nimble dark blue robot that just kept dodging at the last second.
"Sorry," Dragon said, and for a moment you believed it.
"Fine," you bite out, narrowing your eyes. So you only had thirty - no, twenty five seconds more of operation time?
Time to make every last second count.
Your next attack sweeps the legs, but the Gespent twirls out of the way at the last second. Twenty seconds left. Undeterred, you continue the rotation and make a rising slash, which the navy blue machine dodges with a side shuffle, as it turns to face you. Ten seconds left. Reactivating its own pink saber, the boss of the Undersiders blocks the immediate descending cut, and leaves the arm out there for you to grab. Five seconds left. The two machines are practically on the edge of the building. You grab hold of the exposed arm, and swing your beam saber into it. The blade bites deeply into the arm, metal glowing bright orange-white in its passing, as sparks fly from the impact point. The arm spasms, loosens enough to drop the beam saber, and then goes completely rigid, as smoke billows from the internals.
But it's all for nothing.
Because at 0 seconds, the Flag enters safe shutdown mode, releasing its grip on the Gespenst, and allowing the white beam to fade. The Gespenst promptly takes the opportunity to jump off the side, and the Undersiders shortly follow suit, making their getaway on the Gespenst, and a small boat.
And stuck inside the unpowered Flag, all you could do was sit there and stew helplessly.
The austere off-white room is tiny, built for two people. It is lit with one white light, and it has one table and two chairs. That makes the four sweaty and tired people, three in costume, crammed into the room feel hot, stuffy, and overbearing. One is Director Piggot. One is Armsmaster in his full powered armor. One is Miss Militia casually twirling a bowie knife. The last one, of course, is you. You're pretty sure this is some sort of intimidation tactic, and you're annoyed that it's working.
"Why did you steal the Flag?" Director Piggot asked.
"I stole the Flag to defend the base, since I heard things exploding," you said, holding your voice even. You're afraid that if you let up for even an instant, your voice would start to quake and then it would be all over. The silence in the room dragged on, as you desperately stare at a point several miles behind Director Piggot as a rough approximation of a staredown.
"Half-truth," Armsmaster declared. You blinked in shock. Half-truth? What was the full truth, then?
"Answer the question," Piggot ordered.
Sweat broke out and stuck to the spider silk, soaked through with the sweat of piloting the Flag. What was the other reason that you had gotten into the Flag, anyway? It was...oh.
"Well, I, uh - "
"Spit it out," Piggot growled.
"I was afraid, okay?!" you erupt, embarrasment turning your cheeks bright red, before cringing into yourself. Seriously? Shouting that you were afraid to your city's bona-fide heroes? That was just...this was unbelievably embarassing, and anger boils up within you at Armsmaster for pushing you into this corner.
"Hey, it's okay," Miss Militia said soothingly. "It's normal to be scared when you start being a hero, alright? I can't tell you how many heroes start their career curled up into a ball. You're handling it better then most," she lied, and it even sounded so smooth that you could almost believe it.
"T-thanks," you muttered.
"You're welcome," Miss Militia said.
"Christ," Director Piggot muttered, pinching her nose with her fingers. "Just how old are you, anyway?"
"Do I have to answer?" you sullenly ask.
"Too young, clearly," she sighed. "Dammit," she cursed, leaning back into her folding chair. "Fuck."
Armsmaster meaningfully coughed.
Director Piggot leaned forward, looking at you straight in the eye.
"Listen to what I'm about to tell you. When the attack happened, you were in the final phases of your Ward initiation, right?" she asked.
You nodded.
"So we did start registering some of your information, but not all of it, including your cape name. One of the next steps would've been to figure out what your role would've been on the team, factoring in some important considerations. Of course, then you had to go and get in the Flag. It would have been one thing if you had managed to slow the Undersiders down slightly and run us a few million dollars in repairing a mass-production mobile suit prototype. That would've been understandable, if a little expensive, and we could've gone right into the next steps of your initiation."
"Instead, you demonstrated incredible aptitude in the Flag, and made Armsmaster's custom machine look like an overweight gorilla during the short period you had the Flag active. Bluntly speaking, there's absolutely no one within thirty miles who can claim more than a fraction of your raw ability in the Flag. It'd be a waste to put you anywhere else. Plus, there's the other consideration," Piggot said, trailing off.
"Other consideration?" you ask.
"Your father is the head of the Dockworkers, which provides a huge number of our mobile suit maintenance personnel, so there's absolutely no way he would allow you to do hero work under anything but the safest conditions. Given that there's basically nothing else on the base that's as safe as being in the Flag except maybe console duty, putting you in the Flag also lets us send you out on mission beyond just console duty," Piggot said, shaking her head.
"Huh," you say, dumbly.
"On the other hand, you are, what, sixteen?" Piggot said. "I will be honest with you: I hate that. I hate that I have to send out kids. I hate that I have to say that because you're a parahuman we can't let you have a normal childhood. I hate that I have to tell you to do something with a high chance of injury or PTSD. We get those cases all the time, you know," she said, eyes closed.
"But if I have to," she said, opening her eyes, "then the best option out of a terrible lot is sending you in the Flag. Are you willing to do that for us?"
Not trusting yourself to speak, you simply nod.
"I understand," she said, nodding sharply. "In which case, as the pilot of the most valuable mobile suit on our base, is there anything we can do for you?"
Images flash to the front of your mind. Getting the Dockworkers some more work so that Dad didn't have to come home perpetually tired and frustrated. Running more patrols so that the neighborhoods weren't constantly filled with graffiti two miles into the run. Getting the hell out of Winslow.
"Nothing," you lie.
"Lie," Armsmaster immediately said. "Please, Arachne, help us help you."
"So you only help the people that you need something from," you bitterly remark.
"Well -" Miss Militia said.
"Bluntly, yes," Piggot said. "That's where we're at. Not enough resources. Not enough people. Not enough everything. We were hoping that mobile suits would turn the tide, but, well, look where that got us," she bitterly said, rolling her hands upwards.
"I see," you caustically remark. "Fine. I want out of Winslow. As soon as possible."
"We'll have the paperwork by next week. Make sure you talk to your father about this," Piggot decisively nodded.
You nod, not trusting yourself to speak over the knot of guilt that suddenly entangled your gut.
"Then, what can we do to improve your Flag's performance?" Armsmaster suddenly asks.
[X] Ranged options. [Flag gains Linear Rifle attack: 2 Beam Damage, +1 Accuracy, 4 Range, 1 EN.]
[X] More practice time. [Taylor gains +1 Evasion, +1 Accuracy, +1 Skill]
" - and in other news, a private organization calling itself Celestial Being has claimed responsibility for the attacks in Poland, Germany, Colombia, and Vietnam, carried out by what the military is tentatively labeling "Gundam-type" mobile suits, after the inscription read on two of the mobile suits -
- Protectorate East South East has put out a warning about a new tinker-type villain, self-styled as "Dr. Hell", who appears to be capable of creating biomechanical monsters. An A-class threat level has been assigned, with the possibility of escalating to S-Class -
- the world is wondering why the government is diverting a huge amount of funding into blacksite projects; leaked documents on the internet reveal that the title is "Project Jaeger", but no further details are forthcoming as of this moment -"
No more stalling, you thought. Butterflies were roiling in your gut (okay, your bug control confirmed that there weren't any, but it was the thought that counted) about what you needed to talk about.
You'd need to tell your Dad that his baby daughter was a cape, piloting the massive machine that he maintained.
"Hey kiddo," Dad said, as you came down the stairs. "Hey Dad," you said, as the smell of frying bacon hit your nose and made your stomach growl. "Smells good," you said, before your treacherous brain made the connection between frying bacon and how close you came to smelling your own frying flesh. Suddenly you wanted nothing to do with the smell, but you still had to act like nothing changed.
After all, it was one of the few things you could say to get the smile to reach his eyes.
"You always say that," Dad said, and the laugh reached his eyes, just like you were hoping it would.
"It's always true," you smoothly lie, and this time there's no Armsmaster there to instantly call you out on it.
"Heh," Dad chuckled, before turning back to fry the bacon. Carefully maneuvering around him, you picked up your slices of bread and dropped them into the toaster. The two of you lapsed into an familiar silence. Sweat built on your hands, and the nervousness pulsed from your gut to every part of your body, from the tips of your toes to the top of your head.
"Say, you know Gerry? Black-Irish guy?" your dad asks, breaking the silence first.
"Yeah, I think I do," you reply, and you're not even mostly lying.
"The PRT agreed to hire him to maintain something that he needs a pile of NDAs for. Knowing the PRT, that means he's working with the mobile suits that the PRT's trying out. Pretty cool, huh?" he said, and you can't tell if there's any sarcasm or traps in that sentence.
"Yeah, that is cool," you agree, and the two of you lapse back into silence, preparing your own breakfasts.
The shuffle on the floor and the ring of the toaster marks the passage of time, as you grab your slice of toast and bacon and your Dad does likewise. You're stalling on what you need to tell him, but you don't think anyone would really blame you.
Finally, the last piece of toast vanishes and now there's no more time to delay, not when the transfer papers to Arcadia High are burning a hole on your desk.
"Hey, dad," you hesitantly say, "there's something I need to tell you about."
"Hm?" your dad eloquently said, piece of bacon stuck in his mouth. Raising a finger, he ate up the last piece by snapping the piece up like a snapping turtle. "What is it, kiddo? A hobby? A boyfriend? Something even worse?" he joked.
"Uh, something between a hobby and something worse?" you hesitantly say.
Dad immediately sat up. His face snapped to attention, and his lips thinned just a little bit.
"What is it, Taylor?"
"Uh, well," you say, averting your gaze, "there's no good way to say this, but..."
"Taylor, whatever it is, I'll support you on it. That's a promise," your dad said, completely serious. That gave you the final nudge you needed.
"...but I'm the Ward Arachne and I'm going to be piloting the Protectorate Flag," you hurriedly said.
There. You said it. Now, the ball was in your Dad's court. You peek at his expression.
A three-way civil war rages across his body. Shock fights a two-front war against anger and worry, but slowly gives way to anger as it accumulates steam across his body and reaches his face. Anger can hardly take a moment to use its victory by having your dad step towards you before his anger splits into a second conflict between anger at you and at himself, and in that gap, worry wins the decisive blow.
He collapses to his knees in front of you, enveloping you in a tight hug. His arms clutch onto you as you hear a sound you thought you'd forgotten; your Dad's ugly cry, tears scrunching his nose and throat to make a choked gurgle.
"Stay safe, Taylor," he gasps, and you begin to feel the tears run down your own cheeks. "Stay safe. You're all I have," he sobbed.
"I will, Dad. I-I will," you promise.
The two of you stay like that until well after the coffee goes cold.
"Listen up, everyone," Armsmaster said. "We don't have a lot of time before the opportunity disappears, so we're going to be brief. As many of you know, the Travelers and Undersiders conducted a joint raid on Protectorate Headquarters. While we're fortunate that damages were kept relatively light, the Gespenst was stolen by this gang and taken somewhere unknown. This, with Lung's arrest, leaves the city of Brockton Bay on the brink.
"A power vacuum has formed. The ABB has drastically dropped in strength, this third gang has rapidly increased in strength, and the E88 has been largely unchanged. This means that we can expect a violent gang war soon, as the gangs try to sort on who is on top. One of the biggest fights will be the fight between the third faction and the E88, since the faction with the Gespenst has a temporarily huge advantage. We're expecting that either the E88 or the third faction or both will go looking to pick a fight with each other to lay claim to the whole city's underworld.
"That's where we come in. The Gespenst is extremely obvious, and any force that the E88 sends out to answer it will be just as obvious as that machine; that's when we'll hit them with the majority of our forces. By concentrating our force, we'll defeat both forces in detail and accomplish two objectives: reclaiming the Gespenst and taking down some of E88's heaviest hitters in one fell swoop.
"Based on some intel we obtained, we think this is going to happen fairly soon. Given the amount of forces at play here, Arachne will take the lead with her Flag, while the rest of the Protectorate forces follow in close pursuit. That being said, which force we decide to attack first will be crucial, given that our strategy has to be defeat in detail. That's why we will -"
[] Attack the Empire Eighty-Eight forces first.
Choose this if you want to make sure that the local Nazis are broken up as a force, with some possibility of the Gespenst escaping. [] Attack the Gespenst first.
Choose this is you want to take down the Gespenst first, and are willing to let the E88 walk away with a few of their heaviest hitters left.
You drum your fingers on the throttles, psyching yourself up in the dark hangar. The Flag has been activated, and sports three new additions: one backpack, containing backpack-launched containment foam missiles. One long, black rifle for shooting the Gespenst, and one stubbier gun with a huge container of containment foam attached, for containing the Empire Eighty-Eight's villains.
"This is Velocity, manning the console. Strike team, check in," Velocity said casually.
"Battery, good to go."
"Assault, always ready if my baby is."
"Oh, stop it," Battery replied, embarassed.
"Miss Militia, ready," Miss Militia said, ignoring the exchange.
"Dauntless, ready."
"Armsmaster, prepared for the strike."
Silence hung in the air. The rest of the team turns to you expectantly, and then you suddenly realize in a wave of embarassment that you forgot to sound off.
"Arachne, ready!" you exclaim, trying to make up lost time with enthusiasm.
"All forces ready," Velocity coolly said. "Protectorate," he grandly announced, "move out!"
Sunlight hit your mobile suit. You breathed in, and then pushed the sticks forward on your exhale.
Go time.
True to form, you saw the giant forms of Fenja and Menja in the distance, headed for one of the many abandoned industrial parks around the Docks. Armsmaster had been exactly right about that, you saw. As you approached, you started making out the smaller figures; a tiny pinprick that your monitor helpfully identified as Rune flew in the air, while a silver light on the ground was probably Kaiser in full armor, and the rest of the E88 were indistinct blobs, dancing around the large blue Gespenst and giant dogs. A bright orange flash and darkness billowing out told you that the Undersiders and a fire-based cape were taking part as well; neither side seemed to have struck a decisive blow yet.
That was where you came in, leading the front of the Protectorate charge.
Two blocks away, while the fighters were just beginning to take notice of you, you opened fire.
FLAG CONFOAM MISSILES CHANCE TO HIT: 80%
ROLL: 20
HIT
RUNE: 1/1 HP, 0 EVASION, TAKEN OUT
+10 MORALE
+3 SP
3 MISSILES AMMO REMAINING
INSTINCT I: +1 Evasion, +1 Skill
Rune, taking a moment to take stock after throwing a chunk of concrete at the Gespenst, doesn't notice the confoam missiles. Until you see is a mound of white, and the chunk of concrete dropping out of the sky. You smiled nastily. Last time wasn't a fluke, then.
"Good shooting, Arachne!" Velocity cheers over the radio, and you can't help but preen.
Now, however, if everyone in the battle was vaguely aware that you were coming for them, they're definitely aware now. Both sides take a moment to turn and look at you, calculating how much of a disruption your forces would be.
But by then, it's too late for thinking. One of your hands is stowing your linear rifle, and the other is raising the confoam spray gun.
FLAG CONFOAM SPRAY GUN CHANCE TO HIT: 100%
ROLL: IRRELEVANT
HIT
ALABASTER: 1/1 HP, -2 EVASION, TAKEN OUT
+10 MORALE
+3 SP
3 AMMO REMAINING
INSTINCT I: +1 Evasion, +1 Skill
One moment, you're a block away. The next, your spray gun is filling Alabaster's world with the off-white color of containment foam, as you skate around him in a monster powerslide. The moment hangs just a bit longer, before Cricket tears one of the dogs apart to a loud keening cry, and the battle resumes in earnest.
FENJA SWING CHANCE TO HIT: 40%
ROLL: 9
MISS
+5 MORALE
FLAG PUNCH CHANCE TO HIT: 70%
ROLL: 17
HIT
FENJA HP: 3/4 HP
+6 MORALE
+3 SP
INSTINCT I: +1 Evasion, +1 Skill
One of the two giant twins, you don't know which, swings their spear at you. Almost in slow motion, you see it start, and by then you're already stepping in and flowing with the attack, bending just backwards enough that the spear nearly scrapes the paint on your chest. Then your thrusters are kicking in, to help bury your metallic fist into her giant-sized chest, and she bends over in pain.
Must've hit something hard, you idly note, as you sideeye the other fighters. The Gespenst was staying suspiciously still, but the other twin wasn't. Her spear raised high, she lunged forward just as you dodged the sweep, like it was planned. It probably was, you think.
MENJA STAB CHANCE TO HIT: 50%
ROLL: 20
MISS
+5 MORALE
FLAG ROTARY DEFLECTOR ATTACK CHANCE TO HIT: 70%
ROLL: 8
HIT
MENJA HP: 2/4 HP
+7 MORALE
+3 SP
INSTINCT I: +1 Evasion. +1 Skill
That said, though, it simply wasn't good enough. Easily boosting to the side and around the stab, you draw your arm back as if preparing for a punch. Menja obliges, and dodges right as you punch towards her left. She dodged far, but not enough to dodge the spinning deflector arm attached to your forearm; it slams home with a meaty thwack and a crunch. Clutching her side, she winces in the pain while leaping back to join her twin sister, and as your swarm notices that the confusing sounds were gone it also notices Stormtiger leaping up for your knee joint.
STORMTIGER AERIAL BLAST CHANCE TO HIT: 30%
ROLL: 7
MISS
+5 MORALE
FLAG CONFOAM SPRAY GUN ATTACK CHANCE TO HIT: 70%
ROLL: 5
MISS
2 AMMO REMAINING
You're almost caught by surprise, but almost is a slippery thing when you're involved; your Flag instantly boosts a half-step to the right and the air blasts sail harmlessly between your legs as you begin the rotation to counterattack. Your spray gun points down, you pivot on one foot, and begin spraying a half-step behind where Stormtiger is, leaving a huge trail of white and spending a huge chunk of your limited reserves for nothing.
Well, seeing the whirling wolf of metal and edges calling itself Hookwolf leap over the confoam barrier convinces you temporarily that it was for something after all.
HOOKWOLF CHANCE TO HIT: 20%
ROLL: 17
MISS
+5 MORALE
INSTINCT I: +1 Evasion, +1 Skill
FLAG CONFOAM SPRAY GUN CHANCE TO HIT: 60%
ROLL: 11
HIT
HOOKWOLF: 10/10 HP, -2 EVASION
+5 MORALE
+3 SP
1 AMMO REMAINING
At this point, however, you're so keyed up that sidestepping the charging oversized dog seems natural, and so too is the barrel of the confoam spray gun pointing straight at his legs, spraying his legs full of the mobility-restricting confoam, before Hookwolf is suddenly replaced with the bright orange armor of Dauntless.
As for the rest of the battle, with an instant to look over, you see Armsmaster suddenly get replaced midstroke through one of Genesis's creations with Triumph, who Genesis's ... bear thing wounds, just as Ballistic slams a car onto Armsmaster and effectively takes him out of the fight.
And most importantly, the Gespenst still hasn't done anything.
Suddenly, out onto the open air, radio chatter breaks out, as the Gespenst raises its empty hands.
"- Joe, do you know how much I'm paying you?" A slick, smooth voice echoes.
"I'm aware, Coil. I'm afraid that you can't afford me any more, not with those halfhearted attempts at bribery," a second voice said, as the Gespenst brought its hands together in a crude mockery of clapping, loud clangs ringing through the park that had turned into a cape battlefield.
"Now, pilot of that Flag over there. You've shown off some very impressive moves, and that's why I feel confident about this.
"We both know why we're really here. You want this machine back, and I want a good fight. What do you say we leave the rest of the capes to their business, and get down to ours as pilots of these super robots?"
"And what is that business?" you archly ask.
"A one-on-one duel. I'll even leave this Gespenst for you if you win. You have my word."
As the adrenaline wound down, you weighed the costs of staying. The truth was, you were in a giant robot. While you could try to stay away from capes, at the end of the day you had several tons of weight behind your every footfall, and regular capes...didn't. You were fortunate that thus far the Gespenst pilot hadn't moved, but you couldn't count on that forever.
From that perspective, agreeing to take the fight elsewhere was just common sense.
"Alright. I'll hold you to your word," you said into the open mic.
"Just the words I wanted to hear," the Gespenst pilot responded, turning the Gespenst around.
As you leave, however, two attacks come for your back.
SUNDANCER FIREBALL CHANCE TO HIT: 50%
ROLL: 16
MISS
+5 MORALE
FLAG CONFOAM MISSILES CHANCE TO HIT: 100%
ROLL: IRRELEVANT
HIT
SUNDANCER: 1/1 HP, 0 EVASION, TAKEN OUT
+10 MORALE
+3 SP
3 MISSILES AMMO REMAINING
INSTINCT I: +1 Evasion, +1 Skill
KAISER STEEL TRAP CHANCE TO HIT: 60%
ROLL: 19
MISS
+5 MORALE
INSTINCT I: +1 Evasion, +1 Skill
FLAG CONFOAM MISSILES CHANCE TO HIT: 100%
ROLL: IRRELEVANT
HIT
KAISER: 2/2 HP, 0 EVASION, TAKEN OUT
+10 MORALE
+3 SP
2 MISSILES AMMO REMAINING
INSTINCT I: +1 Evasion, +1 Skill
One is a bright fireball that you only just notice out of the corner of your eyes, and the other is the beginning of steel blades extruding from your ankles and the ground, probably meant to slow you down. You contemptously sway out of the way of the fireball, and tap your thrusters into the sky. Almost automatically, you retaliate with your confoam missiles; where Sundancer and Kaiser once stood now expanding clouds of confoam occupy that space.
Idly, you notice that one of the twins is gone. You probably hurt her worse than you thought.
Regardless, you had a hostile Gespenst to chase. Opening up your throttle, you chased after them.
"Arachne, are you sure about this?" Velocity asked, worried.
"I'm sure. It's probably for the best," you reply, gut curdling slightly.
"Alright. I'll cover for you a little bit, then," he replied, before cutting the connection.
You dismissed the thought. Now you had to focus on the Gespenst, as it wound away from the battlesite, and turned ... right. Straight into the heart of downtown Brockton Bay.
"What are you doing?" you indignantly shout. "Weren't we supposed to be fighting away from civilians, super robot to super robot?"
You couldn't help it. You had grown up with the Triumvirate, and you had grown up with the giant robot Gaine, whose pilot was now a world-renowned CEO, and who had helped spread the concept of justice fighting against evil, even the Endbringers. Now, here was a guy spouting things about how super robot pilots should fight one on one, you felt suckered. Betrayed. Like somehow something had gone so terribly wrong for you to be chasing a villain's robot down one of Brockton Bay's main throughfares
"I'm a villain," the Gespenst pilot lazily said. "What made you ever think I was going to abide by my word?"
Gritting your teeth, you have no reply. All you can do is put your all into defeating this guy. So!
SPIRIT COMMAND: BULLSEYE
You let your swarm tell you exactly how he was going to move. You used that, and the swarm running over your own machine to tell you exactly how you were going to move. All that accounted for, you raised your gun.
FLAG CONFOAM SPRAY GUN CHANCE TO HIT: GUARANTEED
ROLL: IRRELEVANT
HIT
GESPENST HP: 24/24 HP, -2 EVASION
+5 MORALE
GESPENST BEAM SABER CHANCE TO HIT: 100%
ROLL IRRELEVANT
HIT
FLAG HP: 3/6 HP
+3 MORALE
+2 SP
Just as you thought, he was going to be in the middle of a turn when you could hit him with a spray from your gun. You pull the trigger, the confoam sprays out, his nozzles and joints clog slightly - and then there's a flash of pink, and your confoam spray gun falls apart in the middle of the street.
"You're not even trying to hurt me, let alone kill me," the Gespenst pilot said. "What's it going to take for you to take this seriously?"
He flicked out his wrist and the pink saber he was holding flew out. A newsvan exploded, and you could only grit your teeth.
"Come on, what's it going to take?" he taunted. "This lamppost?" he said, bisecting it with a great crash. "This powerline? This shop? This garage entrance?"
In the distance, you heard sirens. You grit your teeth. By opening up that much distance, he left himself vulnerable for a long-range missile attack, and the Gespenst hadn't had the chance to get new weapons.
SPIRIT COMMAND: BULLSEYE
FLAG CONFOAM MISSILES CHANCE TO HIT: GUARANTEED
ROLL: IRRELEVANT
HIT
GESPENST HP: 24/24 HP, -2 Evasion
+5 MORALE
+2 SP
1 AMMO REMAINING
INSTINCT I: +1 Evasion, +1 Skill
With your bugs acting as terminal guidance, there was no way your missiles wouldn't hit. The white foam clumped up more and more on the Gespenst, closing off exhaust ports and jamming the joints.
"Again with this weakness?" The Gespenst pilot asks, resignedly. "Fine, if it means I have to push you to the brink of death for you to take this seriously, then-!"
SPIRIT COMMAND: FOCUS
GESPENST BEAM SABER CHANCE TO HIT: 70%
ROLL: 4
HIT
FLAG HP: 0*/6 HP
+3 MORALE
+2 SP
In an instant, the navy blue machine is inside your guard, or whatever passes for one. A beam saber flashes and pierces through the left arm. Suddenly, none of your commands are going through to that arm, as the arm holds in the last possible position it can be. That instant is followed by the Gespenst bodychecking you as it pulls its beam saber out of your shoulder, sending you sprawling on to the floor.
As you slam onto the pavement, impact resounding through your cockpit, you're suddenly struck by the unfairness of it all. As the Gespenst looms over you, pink beam saber in hand, your mind brings up the fight against Lung. Stuck on the ground, again, without any way to resist the villain in front of you. Frustrated tears well in your eyes. It wasn't just here, was it? It was the bullying, it was the fight with Lung, it was the fight with the Endbringers. Always, always, always this world favored the villains, instead of the heroes.
Screw that.
Your machine still answered you, didn't it? Even if the powerplant was warning you, thrusters offline, and the inside of the cockpit was burning, it wasn't as furious as you were. Your right arm still moved. Your linear rifle was still attached to your back. Your leg verniers were still functional.
You slammed your one functioning arm on the ground, pulling yourself up to a kneeling position.
"You won't win!" you shouted, at the screen telling you that your machine couldn't go on, at the Gespenst that was the villain currently winning out over you, and at the injustice of the world.
"That's right!" a voice shouted. "Justice will always prevail! And now, justice arrives, right on schedule!"
Incredously, you turned your head. Arriving at the best possible time, the machine was white with blue highlights. The chestplate that looked like the front end of a bullet train. The red and blue shoulders.
You'd recognize this machine anywhere. You'd bet half the world would recognize the Gaine, the greatest of the Sentai Elites, one of the world's greatest tinkers, and the first true super robot in the world.
"Tch, it's you," the pilot of the Gespenst said, annoyed. "Well, pilots? We don't have all day," he said.
"You're right! Now, Gaine!" the Gaine roared. "Justice, proceed!" it shouted, running past you. "Evil, stop!" it yelled, punching the Gespenst in the face.
"You just won't shut up about your justice, will you," the Gespenst pilot muttered, backing away slowly.
Gaine turned back to you. "What are you waiting for? Come on," the Gaine said. "Let's take down this villain together!"
ALLIED SPIRIT COMMAND: TRUST +3 HP
"R-right!" you say, pushing your sticks forward. If Gaine belived you could do it, then you'd live up to expectations. "Let's get him!" you shout.
Suddenly, the pressure is on the Gespenst. Every time the dark blue machine tries to make an attack, one of you is there to stop it. When the beam saber moves towards Gaine your white saber intercepts, and whenever you come under attack the Gaine steps in and punishes the Gespenst for trying.
Eventually, you forced the Gespenst out of the city proper, corraling him towards one of the decommissioned Endbringer shelters step by step.
Suddenly, the dark blue machine jumped back.
"Now, I've got you right where I want you!" he shouted, raising his beam saber high.
"Be careful!" you shouted. Gaine ran towards the dark blue machine, either failing to hear your warning or simply ignoring it.
The Gespenst turned its beam saber upside down, and then began cutting a hole into the Endbringer shelter. Gaine jumped up, but the Gespenst kicked the Gaine away, at least long enough to make another cut.
"What are you doing, Ace Joe?!" a voice loudly blared. "Why are you turning on your contractor?"
"For one," the Gespenst pilot grunted, "I have a line, and you crossed it. For two, I was never your contractor to begin with."
The hole that the Gespesnt was cutting into the Endbringer shelter finally gives way, and the Gespenst plunges into the depths.
"So he did have his own sense of justice after all," Gaine mused. "Anyway," he said, shaking his head, "I think you still want that machine back, right? How do you want to follow him?"
