[Mecha RP] .Goliath101

[Shadow]

The town they were currently in was on the border of the Lost Lands, so it wasn't as joyful or bright as the last one they visited. And for someone like Marck, that definitely is a problem. Marck is a young man of the age 19, his hair dark, and always wearing the same fingerless gloves. And usually he was covered in oil stains or grease or something similiar, and had many tool belts across his chest, waist and back. All in perfect reach whenever needed. His eyes were simple brown, and his smile was always as if he had gotten into mischief. Something that girls appearantly loved, although Marck's love for Mecha's and the beauty of their strenght and elegance, let alone the times he was away on missions, made it hard for him to have a steady girlfriend. He wouldn't have it any other way. At the moment he sat on the top of the Mecha fighter where he was stationed. The robot was as big as the church in the town they where in, and that was pretty damn big.

Marck ate his porridge and bread sitting on the head of .Varia.x12. It was a Mecha fighter, mid-class weight, but still a very strong one. Equipped with a various arsenal of powerful guns and lasers. More lasers then guns, making Varia (for short) a Mid-class Laser Mecha. Ment for quick and powerful attacks, unlike the Heavy weight class Mecha's, who were equipped with heavy artillery and weren't as fast. Varia was, like all other Mecha's, blessed with a symbiotic mind. That's as much as the worlds scientists could explain anyway, when they discovered certain crystals deep within the earth's core, seemingly being occupied by highly advanced minds. Who in turn, seemed like baby's at the moment when they were implanted. They did not know anything more then any human baby would. During many years upon discovery of these crystals and that they obtained life within them, scientists managed to implant them in the huge Mecha's, giving them a soul, and being able to move. However, the crystal souls would bind themselves to the someone of their choice. That person would become the Captain of the Mecha.

It was a huge honor and priviledge to become a captain of a Mecha. The emotional bond was strong between Captain and Mecha, and they would be friends for life. That was also why when Mecha's were sieged, enemy soldiers would board the Mecha and try and take down the Mecha's Captain. Not to kill him ofcourse, but put a gun to his head and the Mecha would obey like a dog. Then in turn they could capture the Captain and use the Mecha for their own purposes. Usually for the parts and gear on the Mecha, because no Captain would that easily fight for the enemy, and then would risk getting shot. If a Captain would get shot, the Mecha would roar in pain and go on a rampage and it wouldn't be good for any country anymore.

"Could you be careful up there, Gunman Marck? I just had my head made dent free." spoke the metallic voice of Varia as March sat ontop of it's head. Marck grinned as he chewed on his bread, sitting in the monk's position. He gently bumped a screwdriver on Varia's head. "Don't worry Varia, i'll make sure to clean up the soda I spilled on your head." Wrong reply. Varia uttered a groan of horror as a huge metallic arm came towards Marck, who agile jumped away to the shoulder of Varia. "Soda?! That stuff bites through metal!" Marck laughed good heartedly and patted the giant robot at it's head, one huge green lighted eye scanning the young Gunman.

"Marck! Are you bothering him again? Did you fix that fluxdriver at Varia's feet yet?" a strict voice made it's way up, and Marck froze. Captain Miller. A strong, tall guy, who could stand a joke, but when it came down to the maintenance of his Mecha, he would not allow any slacking. Marck was a Gunman on Varia, meaning he would, with others, run and jump around to man big guns stationed on Varia during battles. But with his born affinity for engineering, Marck could also fix everything or if needed, enchance certain parts. But there wouldn't be a promotion if he let his Captain down to much. Chewing down the last of his bread Marck jumped all the way down, using the clever placed spots on the Mecha to quickly be able to jump around during combat. Within seconds he stood in front of the strict looking Captain Miller, and saluted him. "Sorry sir, I was having my lunch. I shall get right to it!" And before the Captain could say anymore, Marck turned around and ran past other engineers working on Varia, and got to work on the Mecha's feet. A metallic laugh came from high up, obviously for the fact Varia somehow got his revenge through his Captain. "Oh shut up." Marck muttered, but grinned. He loved this job more then anything in the world.

They would move out again by nightfall, as they patrolled the outer rim territory. The Lost Lands were not far from this little town, and it was where a black hole had erupted. It had sucked in a crater of land, but luckily humanity managed to stop the black hole from expanding, but couldn't make it go away yet. At the other side of the Lost Lands were the lands of Melgrion, the enemy of Marck's country, the lands of Celdron. Their Mecha's often tried to cross the Black Hole area and so attack the outer posts to establish bases there to continue their take over.

[Shadow]

A couple days later at the wastelands, still near the Lost Lands. Nearby the Fer Fortress, the last Celdron stronghold before the Black Hole.

[Shadow]

Marck grunted as he thanked the Gods for the steelwire cables that tied him to Varia. The huge Mecha was in full combat, jumping high and using the jetpack more then once, causing Marck's stomach to be tossed up and down everytime. Not that such things bothered him, he was born and raised on a Mecha, practically. They had been proceeding to Fer Fortress, the last one of their Fortresses before the Black Hole and the enemy Melgrion Lands. Getting closer, they suddenly found out the Fortress had been taken over by Melgrion forces, and Captain Miller shouted the commands to retreat as two lightweight Mecha's and two middle weight Mecha's charged Varia. The little ones were fastest and quickly towards Varia, and Marck only just had jumped to his gunnery station as they arrived. Varia was trained in fast combat though, and the giant laser station in the middle of his 'stomach' had opened and fired away already, a thick beam of laser particles that just obliterated one of the Lightweight Mecha's, and damaging the other. Downside was that Varia could only use this attack once because it used so much power, and had to be recharged after. But it bought them time just like Varia had planned and the Laser Mecha quickly sped away as the other two Lightweight Melgrion Mecha's followed closely.

Marck had recongized one as a Artillery Mecha, quick and using ammunition mostly like rockets and bullets. The other was also a laser Mecha. Steel cable wire's could be heard unrolling and rolling up as his colleague's also jumped up and about on the huge Mecha, to energize certain shields and change the settings that could not be altered in the main computer in the head of the Mecha, where the Captain and his crew was. The Crystal that contained Varia's soul was in the middle, at the most heavy armored spot of the entire Mecha. No costs were spared to protect it and it was virtually impossible to destroy the casing, unless you'd fire a constant stream of laser or bullets at that exact spot.

The Gunman crew, that was the name of what Marck did as job, were responsible for the outside of the Mecha, and thus having the most dangerous jobs as they would have to move about during combat, and get the risk of getting hit. Energy shields weren't the speciality of the Celdron Mecha army, but atleast they could stop the smaller bullets from shooting down the Gunman moving about on the Mecha, and kept the gravity firm on the Mecha itself, so wind wouldn't blow them away during combat.

Now they were fleeing from the two middle weight Mecha's as Varia used the jetpacks on his back to make haste, and dodge laser and rocket attacks. Marck's adrenaline was rising as he got orders from above through his headphone to check out a damaged part at the knees. Soon he was there and the tools were flying out of his toolbelt as he handled them, seeing the damage caused by a heavy artillery bullet, and quickly patched it up, before the emergency system worked again and sealed the 'wound' with a new layer of titanium armor. The wind howled and Marck got bounced up and down everytime Varia landed on the ground and jumped up again, as the middle class Melgrion Mecha's came closer and closer. "Dammit, they must have had upgrades." he heard his friend and colleague Gunman, Bob, say in his headphone, talking about the high speed the enemy Mecha's were making. "Don't worry, Varia can hold his own. Atleast we got the jetpack upgraded last time." He spoke as he rolled up again and took place in his Gunner position in his trusted chair, manning the heavy machine gun attached to Varia's hip. Bob was at the other side, manning another gunstation. Marck could only felt his heartbeat pounding in his head as the heavy gunshot sounds were dampened thanks to the headphones in his ear. They managed to fire a constant stream of armor piercing bullets to their followers, and with succes, seeming they kept dodging and it slowed them down.

What they didn't see was that Varia was nearing the Black Hole. A huge crater where once was land before the Black Hole came, and sucked in all land, leaving the creator. Now, only a gigantic deep black orb that could swallow a city, was floating there.

[Nevermore]

There was a red blur that flew right past Varia followed by a loud, happy cry through the head sets, "Whoooo! Here we go!" In an instant the blur left several after images all around and in front of Varia. The red and white mech was small, much smaller than its mid-weight cousin at about half its size. Several small thrusters on the back of the mech kept it moving at a blinding speed that the enemy mechs just couldn't keep up with no matter how many bullets they fired. There was a loud, rending sound and one of the enemy mechs was now missing an arm. The next after image left by the mech showed it holding a glowing long sword in each hand.

The mech stopped momentarily and sheathed the left sword on its back but a heavy wire whip quickly replaced it, snaking out of the mechs palm. With a few steps it closed the distance on the damaged mech and cast the whip out and around the machine's "neck". The damaged mech and the undamaged mech continued to fire at the red and white newcomer, but the agile mech easily dodged the gunfire, though every once in a while there was a flash as a truely aimed bullet bounced off the protective shield. Sparks began to fly from the captured mech as the whip around its neck was tightened and the mech was reeled in by the red one. The newcomer quickly turned its captured pray into a shield and after his buddy filled him full of holes the newcomer finished him with a firm thrust of his right sword and jumped away as the mech exploded.

"Come on guys, I don't want to take all the fun, there's still one left!" Called out the voice of 20 year old Raz, or for those that knew his full name Razlon Skyier. He flipped off the connection before anyone on Varia could respond and looked at the glowing screen before him, on it was the enemy mech still trying to hit him. "Come on, baby, he almost got you there," Raz said to his mech as he thrust both arms, which were wrapped in thick, wired gauntlets, forward and stepped on a series of pedals at his feet, causing the mech to jump forward and slice off one of the mech's arms.

"Really? Seems to me they can't help but miss, they have a bunch of ammo, but no aim whatsoever, why do you think you're still in control? If this was serious you would have got us killed ages ago, no if they were a problem I'd be driving," came the smooth, female voice of Sophia, the mind of the mech. She had always had an attitude that Raz just couldn't help but love. He often joked with her that if she were human she'd be his girl, which is why he affectionately calls her 'baby' all the time.

"Aw, come on baby, don't go acting all high and mighty, you know I'm just as good at this as you are," Raz responded in a cool, smooth tone. All he received in response was Sophia's laughter. Raz snorted and shot her a glare, but said nothing further on it.

Sophia

[Shadow]

The coming of the newcomer was easily described, by Marck, as ecstatic.

He recongized Sophia and knew Raz was in there. Both him and Raz went to the Mecha academy together, but Raz was just a bit more professional then he was, and made it to Captain way faster. Marck always admired that, but it was a fact that he always tended to be more 'into the action' kinda guy, tasting the wind and feeling the bullets fly past your head as he used his knowledge to fix and enhance the Mecha he was on. Something he surpassed anyone he knew on. As Captain you would be in the Head of the Mecha and installed to be a connection to your Mecha. Most of the time the Mecha itself would be in perfect control, but sometimes (like now with Sophia and Raz. Thought Marck, definitely recongizing the difference of the human in control to the Mecha in control) the Captain would help out, as the Captain knew information a Mecha might not have. Also there was the fact not all Mecha were that smart. But they were always incredibly curious, that was a fact.

"'Bout time you got here, Raz." said the voice of Captain Miller through the headphones as Marck listened in. Captain Miller was around the fourty years old and very experienced, and always had found Raz with the light weight Sophia quite amusing. Marck kept firing the gun at the middle weight Mecha, who was not sure to run or to fight now his companion was taken out so quickly. Appearantly Captain Miller had given the command to stop and fight back now they weren't outnumbered, and Varia came to a abrupt stop. This was definitely Varia himself in control, knew Marck. The controls were inhumanly accurate and swift, almost like a dance. His heartbeat went faster at the display of the magnificent miracle as Varia charged. Four large laserguns fired from the chest area, tracking the now escaping Melgrion Laser Mecha. It cut dirt and rocks but finally caught up and cut right through the energy shield of the enemy Mecha, and then the legs. The Mecha fell down with a huge crash as sandclouds and rocks were thrown up in the air. Varia jumped with a mighty jetpack-jump in the air and landed harsh on the no-legged-Mecha and a huge heavy arm pointed down at the head of the enemy Mecha. Professionally and without toying around, Varia's hand Burst Laser went off, vaporizing the head completely. Then pointed lasers at the chest of the now stopped moving Melgrion Mecha without a crew, and finally ripped open the Crystal spot.

The Soul crystals containing the Mecha souls were rarely found, and lately only somewhat stupid personalities had been found in the Crystals, so most could only be placed in Farmbots or Transport bots. Only the highly intelligent SoulCrystals would be used for a Mecha. Whence there was always a shortage for Mecha's and if there was a chance they could talk into a enemy Mecha to join them, it would be one worth taking.

Whence Varia, on command of Captain Miller, stashed the Crystal away to be brought home. This did not happen often, but it was a HUGE deal if it did happen, and would be awared a lot of money by their government for the entire crew and part to any other Mecha unit present. The reward would be even higher if the Mecha soul would turn out to be useful in a Fighter Mecha. The crew cheered at the same time for this unexpected prize, meaning they would get a bonus.

Marck couldn't wait to talk to Raz and congratulate him (this would mean most likely promotion in rank, saving a mid class Mecha from destruction) , but it seemed there wasn't any time. Four enemy Heavy Melgrion Mecha Fighters were approaching, and fast. Accompanied by a few mid class Mecha's and a bunch of Light weights. Heavy Mecha's were totally equipped with huge artillerly and deadly bombs, they were like moving fortresses. They were most likely used earlier in the siege of the Fer Fortress Varia was originally heading towards.

Marck heard the quick command of Captain Miller to Raz to fall back asap, and he shivered seeing that big of a force heading their way as Varia turned around and boosted high up, speeding away.

[Doc]

(If it's alright, I'll jump on board?)


"Stand aside." a voice suddenly commanded over the communications channel, gravelly and deep in sound. The dark form of .Aries.00 slowly hovered through the air, its massive size casting a shadow over the mechs around it. It was quite possibly one of the largest heavy mechs currently in existence, designed and manufactured for one sole purpose: Mass Destruction. The mechanical monster's ominous crimson gaze contrasted the ebony color of its plating, radiating with raw power. It was equipped with dual beam swords that possesed enough raw power to seer through the strongest and most durable materials. Built into the mech itself were several chain guns and missile launchers, but these were not its main weapons for demolition. No, the Aries wielded an xtremely powerful rifle, the only of its kind, dubbed .Thanatos.00. It's blast could tear through a horde of enemy ranks, and the weapon was also useful in close quarters combat due to a massive bayonet attatched to its barrel, making it wieldable as a blade.

The Aries raised its rifle towards the oncoming enemy mechs, planting its feet firmly and taking aim. With no remorse, it pulled the trigger of Thanatos, a colossal red beam of energy ripping forth from the barrel of the weapon. It tore into the enemy ranks, ripping apart anything that entered its path. Only three of the mechs it had attacked managed to avoid the blast, the rest disintegrating into ash in the wind.

Roderick scowled in Aries' cockpit, his eyes narrowing into slits as he glared at the survivors. Growling, he pushed forward on his throttles, causing the jetpacks on the back of his mech to surge with energy, propelling it forward much faster now. It careened forward, now holding Thanatos as a melee weapon and thrusting the bayonet mounted upon it into the stomach of one of the enemy heavy mechs, the blade ripping clear through its core and out the other side.

"Incoming enemy from the rear." Aries suddenly announced, its voice a cold and dark drone. It sounded hollow, empty almost, as if it belonged to a creature with no soul. Roderick noted the information, moving sideways as one of the attacking lighter mechs thrust their own melee weapon at him. One of Aries' hands remained on Thanatos while the other arm flew to wrap around the headpiece of its assailant. Grabbing the lightweight mech in a headlock, Aries squeezed its arm, crushing the thing's helm and discarding it like trash.

"Miller, Raz" Roderick called, ripping Thanatos free from the enemy heavy mech, "As you were. I'll give cover."





.Aries.00 wielding .Thanatos.00

[Shadow]

Marck gasped. Aries. The pride of their entire army. Aries was a heavy weight Mecha with the latest technology. It was specially designed and made to fit the Crystal that contained the soul of Aries, because he didn't have that much emotions, and controlled them like a master, making him perfect in combat. Marck still sat on his gunstation and saw the difference between the Light weight Mecha Sophia and the Heavy class Aries. Amazing. Four times bigger as Sophia, double size as Varia.

Marck actually never met the Captain of Aries, and he wasn't sure if Raz did as well. But to be in the presence of the huge Mecha could none other be described as stunning and amazing. He heard Bob shout of joy and excitement in his headphone as Aries took out one of the Heavy Mecha's. But still, it was crazy. Being a Heavy Mecha ment speed and agility reduction big time. That was the only downside of Heavy Mecha's. Usually they were built in platform hovering Mecha's, indeed much like a moving fortress or tank, different shaped then the cyborg-like Mecha's like Varia and Sophia. Marck scratched the top of his head because it was itchy, and didn't even realize was wearing a helmet. More Heavy Mecha's came towards them and the Middle Weights and Light Weights seemed all over the place. Just because they were called Middle and Light classes didn't mean they were weaker, as seen with Sophia, who took out a Middle class with ease. It was all about the connection of the Captain and the soul Crystal.

Marck wasn't surprised when he heard the angry voice of the veteran Captain Miller in his headphone, who appearantly got out of his surprised state. "Roderick you blasted fool, having Aries as Mecha doesn't mean you are invinsible! You can't stand up to a army alone! We have to retreat for now." Marck thought he had seen it right. Varia had stopped momentarily to give Aries cover fire to keep the light and middle class Mecha's away. But soon the Laser guns would get overheated, and Marck and Bob couldn't fire forever as well. And then the ones they were keeping at bay would jump down as bees on honey on Aries.

[Paladin_girl]

“Hey, hey! Quit the solemnity and kick some ass!”

The foreign, metallic yet arrogant voice of .Switcher.a42 had charged furiously into action in an array of green and white lines, landing heavily beside the comrades, spraying dust and debris around the Mecha.

Despite the light-green-and-white elegant outlook which made the Middleweight, it didn’t suppress any power with hands seemingly on the Mecha’s head which briefly gave thumbs up.

It created a bizarre, wing-like appearance, creating a heavy double-punch and crushing the nearest Lightweight to the ground in a pile as it attacked the Mecha. Switcher casually stepped on its chest, launching himself from the area, rolling forward into a perfect, but amusing ball. Switcher charged in a straight line to jump and tackle and wrestle down another of equal size, but in doing so, Switcher pulled off its arms and midriff in obvious annoyance.

Switcher threw them aside and stood up in a fighting stance. His raised hands showed the sharpened gauntlets on his fists, punching mightily into the enemy’s head; there was a high-pitched, metallic screech shuddering in the air until it finally stopped struggling.

The young owner however, said nothing as always. It was all about concentration – and he (or she) knew that Switcher wouldn’t understand that. The owner didn’t want him to either. They just let Switcher do the babbling and they would do the work. Almost like siblings. Switcher was the naive, little brother doing the talking and they the older, responsible sibling tutoring in the right direction.

Dubbed “Wolf”, the intrigued, curious eyes glanced around, noticing the conditions they were faced with. The enemy was likely to be overpowering... but Wolf didn’t doubt the strength of the allies around them, listening carefully for orders, if any more were to come.

[Nevermore]

After the fall back order Raz had taken to fading in and out of the area near the two destroyed mechs and had been jumping back, avoiding bullets and missles coming from the new enemies. Seeing only a lone light weight mech, a group of enemy light weights had decided to try and bring him down first, as easy prey. They were in for a surprise as Raz launched Sophia forward, Sophia laughing a little at the idea of the enemies. The first light mech to step up was cut down instantly with a sword through its head. Sophia shot to the left leaving only an afterimage that was soon riddled with bullets. She answered back with a thrown sword that sliced through the enemies mid-section, paralyzing the mech. Raz made her behead the mech, but leave the rest of it alone for possible crystal recovery later.

She had already taken down two light weights, but several more remained to challenge her all at once. Sophia favored the right sword (recovered from the fallen mech) and the whip in her left hand and Raz didn't complain. "Make it pretty, baby," he told her, leaving this one up to her. She laughed seductively at him and took up a strong stance, waiting for the enemies. When the first one charged she leapt over it and caught it with the whip, casting it into the next one that was charging. She blocked the third one's sword and was quickly brought into a sword fight, which she quickly ended by casting the whip out and drawing the mech in, slicing it in half with a clean stroke and finishing it with a stab to the head.

The other two were damaged, but not out, they had managed to untangle themselves and were now on the attack again. "They just don't give up, do they?" Sophia asked with a sigh. She leaped up and delivered solid kick the top of the head of the first mech, it was staggered but not down. If a mech could grin she would have just then as the lasers extended from the bottom of her feet. Using her thrusters to hover momentarily she delivered a series of lightning fast kicks to the enemy mech, slicing it to pieces. When the second one came at her she spun around with a sword/kick combo the dismantled its entire body. The lasers went off and she landed firmly before the wreaked mechs.

Without a second thought she charged to Aries to offer him aid with the smaller mechs.

[Zyta]

She awoke to a faint, damp nuzzling against her side, eyes slowly opened, head tilted downward, to see a bhok’aral pup, patchy and with some sort of skin infection, curled against her stomach.

Liberty sat up, suppressing the urge to pick up the creature by the neck and fling it against a wall. Compassion was not the consideration, of course. Rather, it was the fact that this subterranean temple was home to hundreds, perhaps even thousands of bhok’aral, and the creatures possessed a complex social structure—harm this pup and Liberty might find herself beneath a swarm of bull males. And small as the beasts were, they had canines to rival a bear’s. Even so, she fought to contain her revulsion as she gently pushed the mottled pup away.

It mewled pathetically and looked up at her with huge, liquid eyes.

“Don’t even try,” Liberty muttered, slipping free of the furs and rising. Flecks of moldy skin covered her midriff, and the thin woolen shirt was sodden from the pup’s runny nose. Liberty removed the shirt revealing a plain white bra underneath covering a small mound of breast and flung it into a corner of the small chamber.

She’d not seen Iskaral Pust in over a week. Apart from the occasional tingling sensations at the tips of her fingers and toes, she was more or less recovered from the enkar’al demon’s attack. Liberty had delivered the diamonds and was now chafing to leave.

Faint singing echoed from the hallway. The assassin shook her head. Maybe one day Morgora will get it right, but in the meantime… gods below, it grates! She strode to her tattered backpack and rummaged inside it until she found a spare shirt.

Sudden thumping sounded outside her door, and she turned just in time to see it flung open. Morgora stood framed in the doorway, a wooden bucket in one hand, a mop in the other. “Was he here? Just now? Was he here? Tell me!”

“I haven’t seen him in days,” replied Liberty.

“He has to clean the kitchen!”

“Is this all you do, Morgora? Chase after Iskaral Pust’s shadow?”

“All!” The word was a shriek. She stormed up to Liberty, mop thrust forward like a weapon. “Am I the only one using the kitchen! No!”

Liberty stepped back, wiping spittle from her face, but the woman advanced.

“And you! Do you think your suppers arrive all by themselves? Do you think the shadow gods simply conjure them out of this air? Did I invite you here? Are you my guest? Am I your serving wench?”

”God’s forbid—“

“Be quiet! I’m talking, not you!” She thrust the mop and bucket into Liberty’s hands, then, spying the bhok’aral pup curled up on the cot, dropped into a predatory crouch and edged closer, fingers hooked. “There you are,” she murmured. “Leave you skin everywhere, will you? Not for much longer!”

Liberty stepped into her path. ”Enough, Morgora. Get out of here.”

“Not without my pet.”

”Pet? You’re intending to wring its neck, Morgora!”

“So?”

She set the mop and bucket down. I can’t believe this. I’m defending a mangy bhok’aral… from this devious witch.

There was movement in the doorway. Liberty gestured. ”Look behind you, Morgora. Harm this pup and you’ll have to face them.”

She spun, then hissed. “Scum! Iskaral’s beget—always spying! That’s how he hides—using them!”

With an ululating scream she charged into the doorway. The bhok’aral massed there shrieked in answer and scattered, although Liberty saw one dart between her legs and leap onto the cot. It scooped up the pup under one arm and then bolted for the corridor. Morgora’s wailing cries dwindled as she continued her pursuit.

“Hee hee.”

Liberty turned.

Iskaral Pust emerged from the shadows in the far corner. He was covered in dust, a sack draped over one bony shoulder.

The assassin scowled. ”I’ve waited long enough in this madhouse, Priest.”

“Indeed you have.” He cocked his head, tugging at one of the few wisps of hair that remained on his pate. “I’m done and he can go, yes? I should be kindly, open, scattering gold dust to mark out his path into the waiting world. He’ll suspect nothing. He’ll believe he leaves of his own free will. Precisely as it should be.” Iskaral Pust suddenly smiled then held out the sack. “Here, a few diamonds for you. Spend them here and there, spend them everywhere! But remember, you must breach the Whirlwind—into the heart of Raraku, yes?”

”This is my intent,” Liberty said with enough scorn in her voice to sound almost insulted, accepting the sack and stuffing it into her own backpack. ”We do not proceed at cross-purposes, Priest, although I realize you’d rather we did, given your perverse mind. Even so… breach the Whirlwind… without being detected. How will I manage that?”

“With the help of Shadowthrone’s chosen mortal. Iskaral Pust, High Priest and Master of Rashan and Meanas and Thyr! The Whirlwind is a mobile suit goddess, and her eyes cannot be everywhere. Now, quickly collect your belongings. We must leave! She’s coming back, and I’ve made another mess in the kitchen! Hurry!”

—

They emerged from the warren of shadow beneath a large outcropping, in daylight, less than a hundred paces from the raging wall of the Whirlwind’s base. After three strides forward Liberty reached out and grabbed the priest by the arm and spun him round.

”That singing? Where in Hood’s name if that singing coming from, Iskaral? I’d heard it in the monastery and thought it was Morgora—“

“Morgora can’t sing, you fool! I hear nothing, nothing but the wild winds and hiss of sands! You are mad! Is she mad? Yes, possibly. No, likely. The sun broiled her brain in that thick skull. A gradual dissolution—but of course not, of course not. It’s the Angel song, that’s what it is. Even so, she’s probably still mad. Two entirely separate issues. The song. And her madness. Distinct, unrelated, both equally confounding of all that my masters plan. Or potentially so. Potentially. There is no certainty, not in this land, especially not here. Restless Raraku. Restless!”

With a snarl, Liberty pushed the man away, began walking towards the wall of the base. After a moment, Iskaral Pust followed.

”Tell me how we’re going to manage this, Priest.”

“It’s simple really. She’ll know the breach. Like a knife stab. That cannot be avoided. Thus, misdirection! And there is none better at misdirection than Iskaral Pust!”

They arrived to within twenty paces of the seething wall of sand. Swirling clouds of dust engulfed them. Iskaral Pust moved close, revealing a grin filled with grit. “Hold tight, Liberty Moto!” Then he vanished.

A massive shape loomed over the assassin, and she was suddenly gathered up in a swarm of arms.

The demon...

Running, now, flowing faster than any mobile suit that Liberty’s seen in her life along the edge of the base’s wall. The demon tucked Liberty close under its torso—then plunged through.

A thundering roar filled the assassin’s ears sand flailing against her skin, She squeezed shut her eyes.

Multiple thuds, and the demon was racing across packed sand. Ahead lay the ruins of a city.

Fire flared beneath the demon, a path of flames raging in its wake.

The raised tel of the dead city rose before them. The demon did not even slow, swarming up the ragged wall. A fissure loomed, not large enough for the demon—but sufficient for Liberty.

She was flung into the crack as the demon flowed over it. Landing heavily amidst rubble and potsherds, Deep in the fissures shadow.

Sudden thunder overhead, shaking rock. Then again and again seeming to stitch a path back towards the wall of sand. The detonations then ceased, and only the roar of the Whirlwind remained.

I think he made it back out, Fast bastard.

The assassin remained motionless for a time, wondering if the ruse had succeeded. Either way, she would wait for night before venturing out.

She could no longer hear the song. Something to be grateful for.

The walls of the fissure revealed layer upon layer of potsherds on one side, a sunken and heaved section of cobblestone street on another, and the flank of a building’s interior wall–the plaster chipped and scarred–on the last. The rubble beneath her was loose and felt deep.

Checking her weapons, Liberty settled down to wait.