Pollyamorous
Please be patient, I'm horny.
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...Bolts, my guy, did you just scavenge that woman's freaking soul?
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Luckless21
Versed in the lewd.
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Most rational and peaceful one I've ever seen if he is.
Sunhawk
Versed in the lewd.
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No, I think the previous post about him going Buddhist cultivator is closer; he exorcised her by building a tribute mech for her.
EDIT: Actually, a key question that comes to mind. Bolt has acquired at least some of the deceased Designer's understanding... if there's any more mechs of her design around, are they going to start working normally again?
Because that would put the cat amount the pigeons.
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lurkingkraken
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But Bolt isn't doing this to carry on the legacy of the deceased, and he isn't doing this to keep her memory alive, so the thematics aren't quite right for that.
He built one memorial mech, but it's not a mech that he intends to mass produce. And the mech, if it has a spirit of its own yet, is content.
And then his understanding of stealth isn't for the sake of stealth itself, but in terms of consuming and reusing.
And there is some glimmers that the understanding may not fully persist, based on how he wants to do it now before the flame burns out.
My question is if he freed that designer's soul of lingering regrets so she can move on, or if he converted her into a mech spirit and now some ex-hexer is going to show up in Mechalla.
Sunhawk
Versed in the lewd.
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It's more a question about him picking up some of the deceased Designer's understanding of her field. That is, if this acquisition is enough for her existing mech designs to now be reconnected to the mech kingdom through Bolt.
M169
New
lost star
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Bolt had done his initial designs as undead and monsters mostly as a small internal joke. Mechs made from salvage were frequently called Franken-mechs. He was a mech necromancer! It was a joke that he didn't always hold to, but still mostly a joke. He was committed to themes and making mechs entertaining to himself if nothing else. Undead, monsters, gods, whatever. So long as the mech was done to the best of his ability he was satisfied.
This mech wasn't going to contain a joke. He emotions were potent and mixed enough that he wasn't in the mood for humor. This was going to be a ghost with teeth. There was no humor in here, only his raw feelings. The theme would reinforce everything about the mech and turn it into a mech monster that would make his enemies pay.
Now this wasn't going to be easy. Stealth mechs had very tight tolerances in their construction. Truthfully there wasn't much room for any sort of variation. The Hexxer Stealth mech hadn't been weak in direct combat because of choice.
So how was Bolt going to get around this? Mostly by making the stealth very temporary. If you reduced how long it had to be hidden you had more room in the design. This would allow for more things to be done with the overall design and give him the ability to make it more combat capable.
This wasn't done routinely for a variety of reasons. Most nations didn't want their stealth tech on any sort of common battlefield. Damage to the mech would make the stealth less effective over time. Altering anything required immense knowledge of stealth systems that most people didn't have. It was also still a fairly large burden on the mech resource and cost wise.
His answer for all of this was to cut away everything he could and then divided it into self contained systems. The stealth was now a series of small independent systems on each limb and torso. This solved the damage problem halfway and introduced a lot more complexity. His cutting made it barely feasible to construct. The thing was he didn't need to solve all the issues here. Partial stealth could be just as effective as full stealth. If he was very careful and precise he could make something that worked just well enough to be viable.
Of course this was just one system on the mech. Mobility was another thing Bolt wanted, and he wanted it something special. Here he leaned on Ghoul's design. Third Rate design principles prized efficiency above all else. This new mech needed that, and Bolt was very confident in his ability to give it a monstrous movement ability without sacrificing too much. This was less viable in space combat, but that was acceptable. Most Second Rate mechs suffered in that particular area unless they were explicitly designed not to.
So, what was next? He had a raw skeleton with redundant stealth systems and something with immense ground mobility. It was a decent base for a mech. He wasn't finished though, and there were going to be more tradeoffs. This mech above all others was going to fight him every step of the way in the design process.
Weapons next. This needed to be ranged. It simply lacked the upper body power for good melee options and the stealth systems were still fragile even with his redundancies. Getting in close always took some sort of damage after all. What sort of weapon would be best?
The simplest option would be a sniper of some sort. A quick check confirmed that standard heavy firepower weapons were too heavy for his initial frame design. He could theoretically do something there, but it'd require a few too adjustments to everything in his opinion. He'd have to strip the armor down to practically nothing while also remove something like half the weapon's weight. It was possible, but the result would be so delicate and finicky that he'd be left with a mech that'd break if someone breathed on it wrong. The young man thought on it a bit before he put a placeholder rifle into the mech and then moved on. No point in making this full decision for this yet.
After a few more changes Bolt stepped back and looked over his design. The base ideas seemed good so far, but something felt off. He was chasing the wrong sort of theme. This wasn't a ghost with teeth. That needed something else. This felt too physical. Too raw. Should he switch to melee? Bolt could easily redo things for that, but his people did not need another close range fighter. He needed a different image behind this mech.
His mind moved back to what had drove him to design this monster. The senseless waste. There was a lot of that out there. For every important fight there were half a dozen pointless charges where nothing was accomplished but death. Dead soldiers littered battlefields. Some resentful, some not.
Oddly, the rifle felt most fitting when his mind roved over that idea. Bolt turned back to it and looked for something that suited his sudden inspiration more. He wanted the most generic Second Rate rifle on the market and found it after some searching. The weapon blueprint didn't even really have a name, it was literally MTA Approved Standard Ballistic Rifle and a serial number. The design had barely changed since it had been made several generations ago. It was something that you slapped on mech when you just needed a generic rifle. It was also perfect for his new idea.
The rifle was added to the design and Bolt tweaked the appearance slightly. He made it looked old and ruined. It wasn't, but the cosmetics made it look like that. He then added a backpack to the mech.
Now this looked silly on the surface. Bolt had a reason for this addon aside from the way it changed the appearance. The backpack was actually a grenade storage device. It could deploy grenades upon command and kept them safe in combat. Second Rate grenades could get very dangerous and very expensive. Though Bolt wasn't going to add that to the initial loadout. Those were simple things. Explosive and chaff grenades with a small addon that he'd used a long time ago. All of them would create mist.
The rest of the mech came together quickly after these decisions. The mech had a bit of a hunch. It held the rifle in a default stance that brought to mind a tired soldier. It had a hint of camouflage and blood on it. Outside of stealth it was supposed to look like a soldier that had just done a long march, if you didn't look at the face.
That looked positively demonic. A long dead and vengeful soldier. Bolt even had it breath out mist a bit. The cosmetic alteration cost nothing and didn't even cause armor vulnerabilities. The effects in the sims were spectacular. Exactly what he was looking for.
Now it was time to tie it all together. The spirit followed the function and form. Bolt pulled the threads of it all together and the memory of the battlefield he'd just left. Hundreds dead over a rock ball that neither side needed in the end. A worthless battle.
Something like that was enraging in despair inducing in equal measure. That was what this mech was. A champion of forgotten soldiers and a vengeful fighter. He was on the battlefield to find worth, and he would.
This was satisfying. Bolt grinned as he finished up the armor. It was on the light side, but that was needed. He was really getting close to the limit of what he could add. He had just barely enough for some above standard sensors and that was it. The new mech was done. The Forgotten Soldier.
Once he finished that up he did a few more minor things. Bolt went back and brushed up on his other Second Rate mechs and their spiritual work. All of it needed to work together. He had a team. A group of people. A family, and they'd all defend it and fight for it to the best of their ability. That allowed it all to resonate properly.
This mech wasn't going to contain a joke. He emotions were potent and mixed enough that he wasn't in the mood for humor. This was going to be a ghost with teeth. There was no humor in here, only his raw feelings. The theme would reinforce everything about the mech and turn it into a mech monster that would make his enemies pay.
Now this wasn't going to be easy. Stealth mechs had very tight tolerances in their construction. Truthfully there wasn't much room for any sort of variation. The Hexxer Stealth mech hadn't been weak in direct combat because of choice.
So how was Bolt going to get around this? Mostly by making the stealth very temporary. If you reduced how long it had to be hidden you had more room in the design. This would allow for more things to be done with the overall design and give him the ability to make it more combat capable.
This wasn't done routinely for a variety of reasons. Most nations didn't want their stealth tech on any sort of common battlefield. Damage to the mech would make the stealth less effective over time. Altering anything required immense knowledge of stealth systems that most people didn't have. It was also still a fairly large burden on the mech resource and cost wise.
His answer for all of this was to cut away everything he could and then divided it into self contained systems. The stealth was now a series of small independent systems on each limb and torso. This solved the damage problem halfway and introduced a lot more complexity. His cutting made it barely feasible to construct. The thing was he didn't need to solve all the issues here. Partial stealth could be just as effective as full stealth. If he was very careful and precise he could make something that worked just well enough to be viable.
Of course this was just one system on the mech. Mobility was another thing Bolt wanted, and he wanted it something special. Here he leaned on Ghoul's design. Third Rate design principles prized efficiency above all else. This new mech needed that, and Bolt was very confident in his ability to give it a monstrous movement ability without sacrificing too much. This was less viable in space combat, but that was acceptable. Most Second Rate mechs suffered in that particular area unless they were explicitly designed not to.
So, what was next? He had a raw skeleton with redundant stealth systems and something with immense ground mobility. It was a decent base for a mech. He wasn't finished though, and there were going to be more tradeoffs. This mech above all others was going to fight him every step of the way in the design process.
Weapons next. This needed to be ranged. It simply lacked the upper body power for good melee options and the stealth systems were still fragile even with his redundancies. Getting in close always took some sort of damage after all. What sort of weapon would be best?
The simplest option would be a sniper of some sort. A quick check confirmed that standard heavy firepower weapons were too heavy for his initial frame design. He could theoretically do something there, but it'd require a few too adjustments to everything in his opinion. He'd have to strip the armor down to practically nothing while also remove something like half the weapon's weight. It was possible, but the result would be so delicate and finicky that he'd be left with a mech that'd break if someone breathed on it wrong. The young man thought on it a bit before he put a placeholder rifle into the mech and then moved on. No point in making this full decision for this yet.
After a few more changes Bolt stepped back and looked over his design. The base ideas seemed good so far, but something felt off. He was chasing the wrong sort of theme. This wasn't a ghost with teeth. That needed something else. This felt too physical. Too raw. Should he switch to melee? Bolt could easily redo things for that, but his people did not need another close range fighter. He needed a different image behind this mech.
His mind moved back to what had drove him to design this monster. The senseless waste. There was a lot of that out there. For every important fight there were half a dozen pointless charges where nothing was accomplished but death. Dead soldiers littered battlefields. Some resentful, some not.
Oddly, the rifle felt most fitting when his mind roved over that idea. Bolt turned back to it and looked for something that suited his sudden inspiration more. He wanted the most generic Second Rate rifle on the market and found it after some searching. The weapon blueprint didn't even really have a name, it was literally MTA Approved Standard Ballistic Rifle and a serial number. The design had barely changed since it had been made several generations ago. It was something that you slapped on mech when you just needed a generic rifle. It was also perfect for his new idea.
The rifle was added to the design and Bolt tweaked the appearance slightly. He made it looked old and ruined. It wasn't, but the cosmetics made it look like that. He then added a backpack to the mech.
Now this looked silly on the surface. Bolt had a reason for this addon aside from the way it changed the appearance. The backpack was actually a grenade storage device. It could deploy grenades upon command and kept them safe in combat. Second Rate grenades could get very dangerous and very expensive. Though Bolt wasn't going to add that to the initial loadout. Those were simple things. Explosive and chaff grenades with a small addon that he'd used a long time ago. All of them would create mist.
The rest of the mech came together quickly after these decisions. The mech had a bit of a hunch. It held the rifle in a default stance that brought to mind a tired soldier. It had a hint of camouflage and blood on it. Outside of stealth it was supposed to look like a soldier that had just done a long march, if you didn't look at the face.
That looked positively demonic. A long dead and vengeful soldier. Bolt even had it breath out mist a bit. The cosmetic alteration cost nothing and didn't even cause armor vulnerabilities. The effects in the sims were spectacular. Exactly what he was looking for.
Now it was time to tie it all together. The spirit followed the function and form. Bolt pulled the threads of it all together and the memory of the battlefield he'd just left. Hundreds dead over a rock ball that neither side needed in the end. A worthless battle.
Something like that was enraging in despair inducing in equal measure. That was what this mech was. A champion of forgotten soldiers and a vengeful fighter. He was on the battlefield to find worth, and he would.
This was satisfying. Bolt grinned as he finished up the armor. It was on the light side, but that was needed. He was really getting close to the limit of what he could add. He had just barely enough for some above standard sensors and that was it. The new mech was done. The Forgotten Soldier.
Once he finished that up he did a few more minor things. Bolt went back and brushed up on his other Second Rate mechs and their spiritual work. All of it needed to work together. He had a team. A group of people. A family, and they'd all defend it and fight for it to the best of their ability. That allowed it all to resonate properly.
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Non-responsiveuncle
Not too sore, are you?
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He sounds like a uniquely annoying guy to fight in a war every battle that he survives leads to the next one having you fight your own mechs but better and/or more specialized. so literally a necromancer or I suppose in cultivation terms he'd be a Corpse Refiner lmao
Pyro Hawk
Unsure if Phoenix or Kitsune
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Welcome everyone to the blizzard of death. Yes, I know it was a battlefield ten minutes ago but the blizzard descended upon it and that means one side's going to come out spooked and the other won't be leaving.
Thomisannoyed
Versed in the lewd.
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I thought he had three second rate mechs before this new one?
Torment-Guard, Son of War, and Hoarfrost. And now Forgotten Soldier added to the lineup.
Honestly the Ice skater may be slightly too fabulous to fit in with her more grim, professional warrior compatriots.
lost star
Connoisseur.
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Minor mistake on my part, though he doesn't really consider the Son of War fully his.
lurkingkraken
Experienced.
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The forgotten soldier seems like it would readily accept the heart crystals of your destroyed comrades, for some reason.
Also two typos.
Probably should be his emotions were potent.
Enraging and despair inducing, or enraging in a despair inducing way, I think.
Also two typos.
Probably should be his emotions were potent.
Enraging and despair inducing, or enraging in a despair inducing way, I think.
M170
New
lost star
Connoisseur.
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Melinda Larkinson didn't really know how she'd ended up here. She could trace the events that had caused it to happen, but it still didn't make much sense to her mind. It felt like yesterday that she'd been trying to encourage little Ves in his budding design skills. She'd been a planetary guard with a promising and boring future in front of her! Now her family had split in two and she was trying to keep an entirely different designer alive while they madly dashed through battlefields of the fallen.
At least the mech was good. She tried to console herself with that when she got overwhelmed. She'd grown up with Third Rate mechs. Getting to pilot a Second Rate one had been a distant dream. This Torment Guard had been gifted to her as a matter of course because she'd done well learning. The Wrench Rats had so few pilots that she'd gotten one by default!
She attributed a lot of her training success to the fact that Bolt's mechs felt a lot like Ves' mechs. Melinda had gotten used to them over time and once you did, other mechs felt a bit raw. Ves and Bolt's mechs had a sort of liner that made mechs feel better to use. If she were to use an analogy, normal mechs were shoes without socks. Ves and Bolt had different brands of socks. (It wasn't well thought of analogy, but it was all she could think of.)
She still didn't feel ready for this. Yet life didn't care if you were ready or not. If she wanted to live and have her family thrive she'd have to handle it anyway.
"Are we sure there's no forces here?" The woman asked as they dropped down from the orbital insertion ship. "I'm detecting contacts."
"Pattern is consistent with remnants. Ya always get those after a battle." One of the non-pilot Rats commented. "Normally we'd call the battlefield too hot, but job is ta cool it and adopt strays. Broadcasting official auth codes now. Let's see how many are orphans and how many are vultures."
On another channel several things began to blare. Melinda had it off, but based on the plan they were official Friday authorization codes. She paid more attention to the contacts on the sensors. Many moved off. Several moved closer.
"Just confirming, the orders in the broadcast are to rally away from insertion right?" Melinda asked as she finally hit the dirt.
"Roger. That means any approaching are hostile." The Rat replied without concern. "Looks like yer getting a group."
"Weapons hot! Shields forward, guns spread, lancers south!" The Larkinson roared out as she set her shield forward.
Several chaff grenades were dropped around her as people assembled. Mist started to spread and Melinda refrained from commenting. The men with her were all more experienced in wars than she was. She was only in charge due to skill and command ability, not ability. Part of being a good leader was letting your men do what experience told them to do.
Around her snowflakes started to drift. The Son of War set his banner and Melinda felt her blood race as everything became more clear. Her doubts were still there, but they felt lesser. She knew everyone here would have her back. That Glow was always nice to have help.
"Looks like Hexxer orphans!" The Rat called out.
Melinda snorted. 'Orphans' were people left behind when the battle ended. Since the fights were from planet to planet, sometimes people could literally not leave a battle for one reason or another. In this case it looked like a Hexxer group. She didn't get the Rat insistence on specific nomenclature. They were just enemy forces.
As the enemy approached it was obvious they had seen better days. Melinda could see one of Ves' mechs in the most covered area. The Blessed Squire was being protected by a pair of Swordsman, but it had lost a few parts. Pristine the mechs were typically pointed and bug-like due to some of the support equipment they had. They had a pair of emergency energy siphons that they used to pull energy from downed mechs and transfer them, which was what gave them the bug-like appearance. This one was missing one of those. The others had similar bits of damage.
They charged anyway. Which was a poor decision as it ran right into their fields of fire. The Torment Guards rained down small spikes on the entire formation as they approached. None of the damage was critical, but it did cause them even more mechanical issues and their charge turned into a staggered forward motion.
Melinda raised her shield and set her stance. "Lancers hit them from the flank once they commit. Don't worry about the Squire."
"Roger that. Feeling a bit of Momma's bite out here though."
That'd be the Squire's Glow. "How bad?" Melinda asked.
"Ice Maiden chill is chasing it off so we're building up a nice snowstorm while we wait." The lancer lead reported.
Several Soldiers took their shots and then more chaff grenades were dropped as they shifted. Melinda could tell they were dipping in and out of sight just based on how the opposing riflemen tried to track them. The mist flowing around her started to turn into snowflakes, which seemed strange because it was too warm for snow.
Ves had his Glows. Was this Bolt's version of it? Melinda didn't have time to think about it. She raised her shield and readied herself for the charge.
Hexxers loved getting up close and personal. Their fanatical doctrine allowed them to handle the brutal chaos of melee combat better than most. This group was no different. Her shield jerked as one mech charged at her and attempted to knock it to the side. She raked a whip against it in turn, and the mech staggered as its armor was stripped and pain echoed across the pilots nerves.
Before it could do more one of the Soldiers managed to fire directly into the stripped segments. It fritzed and dropped, then the Soldier disappeared. Several shots splashed off where it had been but Melinda felt her mech starting to 'wake up' and her shield moved almost before thought to give it cover.
Then the lancers hammered into the flank. Snow fell over the battlefield. Visibility was still fine, but half the snowflakes were explosive dangers and half of them were just snowflakes. Avoiding all of it was impossible. The ill repaired Hexxers started to drop and Melinda moved forward.
"Shield line up!" She shouted and lashed out with the whip again.
More armor was stripped. Behind her the Soldiers fired into the openings. The erratic movement was playing merry hell on the enemy's ability to predict things. Normally you'd try to shift so that your weaker sides were away from enemy angles. The Soldier's ability to fade from sight made that impossible because they could just shift positioning out of sight.
What was worse for them was that you didn't want to get close to the Torment Guards. The whips weren't deadly alone, but when the armor was stripped you had to be careful. More than one Hexxer had tried to bypass the Torments, and had gotten flayed. Then the Soldier they were going after just finished them with the rifle or a dropped grenade.
The Hexxers couldn't even flee now either. The Hoarfrost had already hit once and were just waiting for another opening. The circling they were doing was making a storm that trapped all the hostile forces in a cold death.
Melinda almost felt bad for them, but they were Hexxers. Pilots got extra special brainwashing and conditioning as a matter of course. Fixing that took years of specialized treatment. Better to put them into the ground now, and that was what they did.
Soon the battlefield was free of Hexxers. It wasn't free of life. The next step was going to be looking for survivors.
At least the mech was good. She tried to console herself with that when she got overwhelmed. She'd grown up with Third Rate mechs. Getting to pilot a Second Rate one had been a distant dream. This Torment Guard had been gifted to her as a matter of course because she'd done well learning. The Wrench Rats had so few pilots that she'd gotten one by default!
She attributed a lot of her training success to the fact that Bolt's mechs felt a lot like Ves' mechs. Melinda had gotten used to them over time and once you did, other mechs felt a bit raw. Ves and Bolt's mechs had a sort of liner that made mechs feel better to use. If she were to use an analogy, normal mechs were shoes without socks. Ves and Bolt had different brands of socks. (It wasn't well thought of analogy, but it was all she could think of.)
She still didn't feel ready for this. Yet life didn't care if you were ready or not. If she wanted to live and have her family thrive she'd have to handle it anyway.
"Are we sure there's no forces here?" The woman asked as they dropped down from the orbital insertion ship. "I'm detecting contacts."
"Pattern is consistent with remnants. Ya always get those after a battle." One of the non-pilot Rats commented. "Normally we'd call the battlefield too hot, but job is ta cool it and adopt strays. Broadcasting official auth codes now. Let's see how many are orphans and how many are vultures."
On another channel several things began to blare. Melinda had it off, but based on the plan they were official Friday authorization codes. She paid more attention to the contacts on the sensors. Many moved off. Several moved closer.
"Just confirming, the orders in the broadcast are to rally away from insertion right?" Melinda asked as she finally hit the dirt.
"Roger. That means any approaching are hostile." The Rat replied without concern. "Looks like yer getting a group."
"Weapons hot! Shields forward, guns spread, lancers south!" The Larkinson roared out as she set her shield forward.
Several chaff grenades were dropped around her as people assembled. Mist started to spread and Melinda refrained from commenting. The men with her were all more experienced in wars than she was. She was only in charge due to skill and command ability, not ability. Part of being a good leader was letting your men do what experience told them to do.
Around her snowflakes started to drift. The Son of War set his banner and Melinda felt her blood race as everything became more clear. Her doubts were still there, but they felt lesser. She knew everyone here would have her back. That Glow was always nice to have help.
"Looks like Hexxer orphans!" The Rat called out.
Melinda snorted. 'Orphans' were people left behind when the battle ended. Since the fights were from planet to planet, sometimes people could literally not leave a battle for one reason or another. In this case it looked like a Hexxer group. She didn't get the Rat insistence on specific nomenclature. They were just enemy forces.
As the enemy approached it was obvious they had seen better days. Melinda could see one of Ves' mechs in the most covered area. The Blessed Squire was being protected by a pair of Swordsman, but it had lost a few parts. Pristine the mechs were typically pointed and bug-like due to some of the support equipment they had. They had a pair of emergency energy siphons that they used to pull energy from downed mechs and transfer them, which was what gave them the bug-like appearance. This one was missing one of those. The others had similar bits of damage.
They charged anyway. Which was a poor decision as it ran right into their fields of fire. The Torment Guards rained down small spikes on the entire formation as they approached. None of the damage was critical, but it did cause them even more mechanical issues and their charge turned into a staggered forward motion.
Melinda raised her shield and set her stance. "Lancers hit them from the flank once they commit. Don't worry about the Squire."
"Roger that. Feeling a bit of Momma's bite out here though."
That'd be the Squire's Glow. "How bad?" Melinda asked.
"Ice Maiden chill is chasing it off so we're building up a nice snowstorm while we wait." The lancer lead reported.
Several Soldiers took their shots and then more chaff grenades were dropped as they shifted. Melinda could tell they were dipping in and out of sight just based on how the opposing riflemen tried to track them. The mist flowing around her started to turn into snowflakes, which seemed strange because it was too warm for snow.
Ves had his Glows. Was this Bolt's version of it? Melinda didn't have time to think about it. She raised her shield and readied herself for the charge.
Hexxers loved getting up close and personal. Their fanatical doctrine allowed them to handle the brutal chaos of melee combat better than most. This group was no different. Her shield jerked as one mech charged at her and attempted to knock it to the side. She raked a whip against it in turn, and the mech staggered as its armor was stripped and pain echoed across the pilots nerves.
Before it could do more one of the Soldiers managed to fire directly into the stripped segments. It fritzed and dropped, then the Soldier disappeared. Several shots splashed off where it had been but Melinda felt her mech starting to 'wake up' and her shield moved almost before thought to give it cover.
Then the lancers hammered into the flank. Snow fell over the battlefield. Visibility was still fine, but half the snowflakes were explosive dangers and half of them were just snowflakes. Avoiding all of it was impossible. The ill repaired Hexxers started to drop and Melinda moved forward.
"Shield line up!" She shouted and lashed out with the whip again.
More armor was stripped. Behind her the Soldiers fired into the openings. The erratic movement was playing merry hell on the enemy's ability to predict things. Normally you'd try to shift so that your weaker sides were away from enemy angles. The Soldier's ability to fade from sight made that impossible because they could just shift positioning out of sight.
What was worse for them was that you didn't want to get close to the Torment Guards. The whips weren't deadly alone, but when the armor was stripped you had to be careful. More than one Hexxer had tried to bypass the Torments, and had gotten flayed. Then the Soldier they were going after just finished them with the rifle or a dropped grenade.
The Hexxers couldn't even flee now either. The Hoarfrost had already hit once and were just waiting for another opening. The circling they were doing was making a storm that trapped all the hostile forces in a cold death.
Melinda almost felt bad for them, but they were Hexxers. Pilots got extra special brainwashing and conditioning as a matter of course. Fixing that took years of specialized treatment. Better to put them into the ground now, and that was what they did.
Soon the battlefield was free of Hexxers. It wasn't free of life. The next step was going to be looking for survivors.
Pollyamorous
Please be patient, I'm horny.
- Joined
- Nov 21, 2020
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When we heard about the mech being designed last chapter, it sounded like it'd be a type of horror-monster that would shoot someone, and then disappear fast enough that any opponents would only see a glimpse of its tattered form, and repeat.
You know the kind of enemy that you'd hate to fight, because it makes you paranoid and scared.
With this chapter though, now it feels like the strongest emotion you'd feel would be annoyance. You're in the middle of battle, you see one of those mech that start off looking almost dead, but juuuuust before you can finish it off and take it out of the battlefield it disappears, and it's been doing that for 30 minutes.
At first you'd feel concerned, but in no time at all it'd change to feeling furious because they just won't freaking die already.
You know the kind of enemy that you'd hate to fight, because it makes you paranoid and scared.
With this chapter though, now it feels like the strongest emotion you'd feel would be annoyance. You're in the middle of battle, you see one of those mech that start off looking almost dead, but juuuuust before you can finish it off and take it out of the battlefield it disappears, and it's been doing that for 30 minutes.
At first you'd feel concerned, but in no time at all it'd change to feeling furious because they just won't freaking die already.
Emptiness
That which encompasses reality
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- Sep 13, 2024
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Having someone become an Expert through sheer frustration and desire to just finally kill one would be amazing.
lurkingkraken
Experienced.
- Joined
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The problem is that old soldiers never die; they just fade away.
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