>>469409
>>Stop. Chill. Work this out

>>469409
Fffforgot. Have a Twitter so you know when this shit goes up:

https://twitter.com/FrostyZippo

>>469409
>Fuck all of this. Find an exit
First things first

Rolled 2 (1d2)

>>469484
>>469433
Welp, time for a tie-breaker roll

1 - Stop. Chill. Work this out
2 - Fuck all of this. Find an exit

Not that it matters now, but voting to GTFO

Apologies for the delay, I got pulled away for a few minutes.

>>469409
A significant part of you wants to stop, take a deep breath and take all of this in, because the last… however long it’s been, have been so out there /you/ don’t even believe it. A larger part of you, on the other hand-perhaps the more sensible part given the fact that you are still sitting in what might as well be an oven-feels that all this weirdness isn’t going to matter one iota if you don’t get out and do it now.

Unfortunately, all you can make out is smoke and fire in all directions, and that tinny little voice isn’t giving you any clues.

>Roll 1d10 for sense of direction, lower is still better.

Rolled 2 (1d10)

>>469829
Runrunrunrun

Rolled 1 (1d10)

>>469843
Rollan

>>469829
You pick a direction and haul ass, dashing through the blazing apartment. You can dimly make out the trilling of the fire alarm, and wonder how long this had been going on for, and how it even got started, and where the hell your team had gotten off to.

>COMPLETE!
>INITIALISING PROTECTIVE MEASURES!
>ARMOR MODE ENGAGED!

Your vision darkens for a moment. Confused, you shake your head and almost immediately, some sort of HUD appears in your vision. You can see a compass and a meter with a little lightning bolt symbol that reads: ‘100/100’. You then hear… you’re not sure what kind of sound it is. It sounds kind of like granules of sand grinding together. A little shield symbol appears for a heartbeat in the centre of your vision and vanishes just as quickly.

You also gain what seems very much to be a little minimap that tells you exactly where you are and where you’re facing. It tells you that the front door is almost directly ahead.

>ARMOR mode gained. The nanosuit forms a layer of crystalline lattices on its skin, giving the user near unparalleled protection. Damage drains suit energy: the bigger the hit, the more energy will be consumed.

Well, that was handy to know.


You barge through charred debris and come to… yes! The front door! You give the knob a twist and pull. Nothing. You try pushing. Also nothing. You give the portal a few experimental shoulder charges. It doesn’t budge, but it does tell you some interesting information.

The door is blocked from the outside. Which means someone really wants you dead or, more likely, the fire has spread beyond Mercer’s abode.

Shit.

You glance at your minimap. The only other way out is a fire exit that’s in the opposite direction from the way you came.

>Keep trying to force the door
>Head for the Fire Escape

>>469984
>Head for the Fire Escape
Obvious answer is obvious

>>469984
we got a mother fucking nano suit, break that shit down.

Rolled 2 (1d2)

>>470094
>>470111
Once again, we have a dice-off

1 - Force the door
2 - Fire escape

>>469984
Well, there was only one sensible course of action available to you, wasn’t there?

Spinning on your heels, you charge back the other way in the direction of the fire escape, crashing through more detritus in your efforts to escape. It takes a little manoeuvring here and there, but eventually you find yourself at the right place. A ladder leads down to a little platform, which has its own ladder that leads down to another platform, and so on and so on until you reach terra firma.

All you have to do is brave through the sight of the whole city stretching out before you. It’d be almost picturesque to anyone but you. You keep your eyes just level enough that you don’t make a fatal misstep as Sam taught you a while back and start to climb down.

“Mercer couldn’t have got himself a pad on the ground,” you grumble as you descend. “Oh no, can’t put yourself on the ground with everybody else. Got to be up high, why the fuck not?”

>Roll 1d10

Rolled 7 (1d10)

>>470241
Fuck cities senpai

>>470241
Something, somewhere up in Mercer’s bachelor pad explodes violently, and the shockwave is so violent that for one heart stopping moment you think it’s about to pick you off the ladder. You clamp down with both hands, clutching the rungs in a death grip. The concussive wave passes and you’re left clinging onto the ladder feeling a little awkward. You take a juddering, shaky breath and continue your journey.

And then you hear the groan of creaking metal. Your minimap informs you that you are currently a little less than 49 meters above ground.

>Continue slowly
>Nope, getting off this ride ASAP

>>470460
>>Nope, getting off this ride ASAP
A fast descent is better than a 45m fall

>>470460
>Nope, getting off this ride ASAP

>>470460
You’re sure that were this a movie, this would be the part where you started going real slow so as not to kick start a collapse. You’re also certain that it would start to collapse anyway after you’d taken a few steps. It’s that thought that spurs you on, lending haste to your actions as you work your way down ever faster. You reach the first platform and the next ladder, sliding down it to repeat the process again. And again. And again.

You descend a further 10 metres before another explosion–larger and much more violent-consumes the top of the building in a blinding, smoky orange flash. What the fuck was Mercer /storing/ up there? The force of the blast shakes the building and you hear that godawful noise again, more a groaning din than creaking and no less fucking terrifying for it.

>ALERT! STRUCTURAL INTEGRITY COMPROMISED!

Fuuuuuuuuucccck.

You gulp and snatch a glance down. You’re still way too high up for your comfort, though admittedly, any height beyond a one-storey home is outside your comfort zone. Seriously. Fuck heights.

You release a shaky breath and continue clambering down, lending more haste to your movements, muttering all manner of curses directed at your boss, Mercer and whoever those dumbfucks with the guns were in the apartment.

>Last time, give me 1d10

Rolled 4 (1d10)

>>470641

File: pretty smooth landing all(...).jpg (240 KB, 800x500)

240 KB JPG

>>470641
The groaning was bad enough but the warning from the Voice adds a whole new level of terror that lends you ever greater speed. You can hear wailing sirens in the distance, no doubt the firefighters will be here soon. You wish they’d been faster, maybe one of them might have been able to pick you up without you having to clamber down the side of a burning building.

You slide down another ladder and spin around just as the groaning rises to a pitch that is physically painful. Then the top of the fire escape rips free from the side of the building. It hangs for a moment, twisting and forlorn, and then it collapses.

You check your height: 8 metres. Still high as far as leaps of faith go, but it’s either jump or get buried alive.

Time to see how much protection this Armor mode offers you.

You shut your eyes, brace, and leap, feeling the nauseating sensation of falling as the ground rushes up to meet you-

And then you land.

>SUIT ENERGY: 90/100

The impact is jarring to say least, and your limbs quake as adrenalin flushes itself from your system, but you’re in one piece. Better than in one piece, actually. Aside from the landing, you aren’t hurt at all. Then you remember what you just escaped and dart aside as the mangled fire escape crashes down into the side alley.

That was not an experience you ever want to repeat. At all.

>Work out what’s going on with you
>Try to get in touch with Assagai
>Other?

>>470945
>Work out what’s going on with you

>>470945
>Work out what’s going on with you

File: chafes a little around th(...).jpg (351 KB, 774x994)

351 KB JPG

>>470945
Well, now you’re out of harm’s way, you figure you can finally take a minute to catch your breath and work out what the fuck is up with… everything.

You hold out both arms, inspecting the limbs. They’re both covered in what looks like synthetic, grey muscle. Experimentally, you press a finger against your bicep. It’s strange. You can /feel/ your finger pressing against the muscle as if nothing was there. At the same time, however, you can definitely tell that there’s a layer between you and your arm.

You look down at yourself, unsurprised to see more of that synthetic muscle covering your body. If not for a sleek, grey codpiece, you’d look like a naked, grey bodybuilder. You shake your head and raise your hands to your head. Sure enough, that too is covered by a layer that you know is there, but can only just sense. Your eyes are protected by some sort of visor, and some sort of mask protects your nose and mouth, which is no doubt how you were walking around the middle of a smoking apartment like nothing was wrong.

All right. Obviously whatever this thing is isn’t out to hurt you-quite the opposite it seems. You’ve even found yourself admiring its capabilities: a compass, un-intrusive HUD and some sort of GPS, not to mention the gas mask and that Armor function. This thing, this Nanosuit, had to be the knife-point of bleeding-edge technology. You can only wonder what a whole squad of individuals kitted out with these things might achieve.

At the same time, however, you’re not entirely a fan of the aesthetics. Minor gripe, considering it just saved your ass, but still, not something you’d wear to parties. You wonder how you’d take it off.

You are distracted by the squawk of your earpiece, which has a signal.

“…och who screwed it up! He charges on and next thing we know the whole building’s alight? Tell me those two aren’t fucking connected!”

You scowl as you recognise Kilgore’s snarling voice. From what you can infer, he thinks you screwed the pooch.

“Stow the accusations, Kilgore,” snaps a new voice, one you recognise as the boss lady herself, Belinda Ballantyne, Assagai’s Chief of Operations. “I want you all back here and then I want all of you to tell me how a snatch and grab turned into a shootout that culminated in the destruction of a luxury apartment building with a fatality on our side.”

Jesus, she sounds maaaad.

>Keep listening in
>Reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated

>>471161
>Reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated

>>471161
You raise your hand to your ear, about to key in and let the happy crew know that you’re still packing a pulse, but it bounces off your ear, which is covered by the Nanosuit.

>ASSIMILATING…

Wait, what?

You yelp in surprise as you feel something cold creep into your ear and remove the wireless earpiece. In moments, the sensation is gone, and you’re left with only a vague idea of what just happened. In your HUD, you see a radio frequency appear just above your minimap; the same one you and your boys were using.

“Testing,” you say, experimentally.

“Who was that?” Ballantyne demands. “If this is someone’s idea of a joke then I-“

“Boss?” Julian wonders. “Holy shit is that you?”

“The one and only,” you inform them, a slow grin spreading across your face. “Now what’s this I hear about a fatality?”

“I'm very much hoping you can explain, being that you’re alive after all,” Ballantyne says.

You pause, considering.

>Full explanation
>Cliff notes
>Send me a pickup

>>471349
>Send me a pick up.

Let's get out of here before someone notices us.

Fuck do i wanna figure out how to use active stealth and power.

>>471349
>Send me a pickup

Don't you love it when your machine just up and restarts for no reason whatsoever?

>>471349
“I think it’d be a whole lot easier if I explained in person,” you tell her.

The link is silent for a moment before she responds with a dry hum.

“What’s your location?”

You give her the details and she reroutes the VTOL that took you in to collect you. Within minutes, you hear the whine of its engines as it hurtles back. You aren’t truthfully relishing getting back onto the craft but needs must. You also doubt it would be particularly fun trying to explain your predicament to either the Fire Brigade or the Peacekeepers.

You hear confused and angry shouts from the firefighters who have pulled up to combat the blaze and mitigate damage to the surrounding area as the VTOL touches down on the street. You jog out of the alleyway towards the open ramp, where your fire team trades words with those brave motherfuckers who will no doubt crash through the building in search of anyone who might still be inside. The thought makes you wonder if the armed forces would be the only ones who would benefit from a piece of kit like the one you wore.

The few firefighters not gawping at your VTOL catch sight of you as you head on over. Most appear more curious than anything else, but one or two actually take a step back at first. You’re not sure what to make of that, you’ve got other things on your mind.

Like how your team suddenly have their guns in your face and are all screaming for you to back the fuck up.

“Woah, woah, holy shit, calm the fuck down, it is /me/!” you bellow, injecting as much authority into your voice as you think you require.

Gradually, they lower their weapons, recognising your voice.

“Boss?” Julian gapes, rubbing his eyes. “Is that you?”

“What the hell did I just say five seconds ago?” you ask him incredulously.

“What are you wearing? Where’d you get it?” the rookie asks, his face drawn and pale with exertion as only a man who’d survived his first firefight could be.

You sigh heavily and stride past them. “I’ll tell you once we get back.”

None of them seems particularly satisfied with that, but they acquiesce all the same, parting to allow you to stroll up the ramp and strap yourself into a seat. Your men follow suit. Opposite you, Kilgore’s strike team eyes you warily. You notice that Kilgore actually has his sidearm to hand and is watching you like a hunter watches his prey.

You sigh heavily, pointedly ignoring Kilgore and the decidedly unveiled threat he paints.

You’re really not looking forward to explaining all this.

And that's where we'll stop for tonight. I need to pack up for more IRL shit.

Apologies for the slower update pace, as well as for what I feel was a slow thread in general. I'm hoping that we'll be able to pick up the pace soon but I guess we'll see how it all goes.

Once again, thanks for stopping by. If you do have any issues or queries, drop them here and I'll see if I can't find time to address these come the morning.

Cheers, and good night/morning/afternoon

>>471575
cheers night morening