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>>2763418
He shrugs. “I guess. When I was in Michigan, I remember feeling like the most dangerous thing in the city.”

You nod, silently rolling your saber across the table. Back, forth, back, forth… then: “Did it bother you?”

“Not really. It felt kinda cool, actually. Why?”

You frown. “Maybe…”

“What?” He interrupts, his irritation with you starting to bubble back up. “Should I have?”

You pause, trying to weigh your words. “I don’t know, maybe.”

“Does it bother you?”

“...Yeah.”

-----

‘Sufficient,’ Rezador had said of you, tucking his blades back behind his arms.

From him, that’s glowing praise.

“Didn’t feel like it,” you’d told him--with your pride dashed on his superiority, all you had left was humility.

“It rarely does.” He folds his arms behind his back and turns away, looking up at one of the screens distantly, in musing. “You’re starting to see it now, aren’t you?”

“What?” you ask.

He side-eyes you, his irritation evident but silent. “Ratings, rankings, classes. All absurd.”

You nod… you’ve had a bit more time to yourself to think than is strictly good for you lately, but you’re not sure exactly where he’s going with this. You step up beside him, returning your own weapons to where they should be, and let him speak in his own time.

“How is a Special-A class threat defined?” he asks, begging his own question.

“‘Risks too dangerous for any human personnel,’” you quote, straight from the Hunter handbook. “A is the ceiling.”

“And tell me,” he continues. “Do you think any human could stand against you, personally?”

“...No,” you admit, after an uncomfortable silence.

“Why?”

“I don’t fight like most Reploids,” you reply. “I don’t rely on endurance and armor.”

“You move, act, and fight like they do,” he says. “Except better. Faster. Stronger than they could ever hope for.”

“Yeah.”

He inclines his head. “I am the same. You understand, then, the futility? If you went maverick, what human could stand against you?”

“...Yeah.”

“Hand a Degraver a nuclear weapon, and set him upon Three Gorges,” Rezador says. “What threat do you place him at? Put Sigma in a corn field, and what class does he hold?”

He turns to you. “I think you understand, better than most. You are dangerous. We--are dangerous.”

You can’t bring yourself to say it. You don’t need to. You both know he’s right.

“You’ve thought about it. What would happen if you went maverick.”

You nod. No amount of beam sabers is going to make you a raw force of destruction like Sigma, or Doppler, or Shiva. But the damage you could do...

“B?”

“If I were lucky,” you reply, turning away from his sharp gaze. “Maybe a note about ‘extreme danger to personnel.’”

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>>2763419
-----

Back, forth, back, forth. The saber rolls. Anode’s eyes follow it in absence of conversation.

“What the hell happened, Em?” he finally asks. You chuckle bitterly.

“With Schwarz, with Rezador, or just in general?”

“I get the feeling they’re all pretty much related.”

-----

You guess right.

You are CLNJI-001-G Emerald, B-rank officer and Lieutenant of the 4th Overland, and this is your first A-class hunt.

“Be careful,” Schwarz repeats, arms folded. “This is where--”

“--Most up-and-coming hunters cack it,” you finish. “I know, I’ve got it. I’ll be careful.”

“Let’s go over the dossier again,” Commander Frog says.

Imperious is a self-described ‘duelist’ who has now brought down several hunter officers, escaping justice again and again. This time, he’s been pinpointed in his lair, an abandoned factory in Montenegro.

“He’s very, very public with his wins,” the CO explains, “which is the understatement of the year. Every hunter kill he makes, he releases a video.”

“Which is how we also know he says he leaves his DNA nonrecoverable,” you reply, nodding. “I did my homework.”

“You’re sure,” Schwarz asks, again.

“You’re not going to get anything out of it,” Frog agrees.

“I’m sure. I’m ready.” You volunteered, in fact. “It’s not like I have a VWES anyway.”

“Yet,” Schwarz adds.

You give him a nod and a grin. “Yet.”

You tap-tap-tap your loadout--saber, saber, arm. Yep, still there. You’re ready.

You review what you know:

Imperious, self-proclaimed duelist, is a roamer maverick of unknown origin with no known base of operations--until a chance encounter with 2nd led to him being tracked to a recently-decommissioned automobile factory in the Balkans.

His favored targets are maverick hunters; seeking challenging and engaging opponents to liven up what he calls a dull, boring existence. Each kill he has made has been accompanied by a grisly post-mortem of his target. In these videos, Imperious is always in perfect physical condition, suggesting he repairs himself and has a vanity that could be exploitable. Given the caliber of some of his victims and postmortem estimates of battle times, intel does not believe he is completing his battles unscathed.

All known victims have been slain with beam blades. Clean cuts indicate hibeam weaponry. The placement and timing of some of these wounds suggest he prefers to debilitate before going for a kill. This in combination with a lack of any other known ordnance have placed him on your roster. Combat threat has been assessed at A-class in close quarters, mostly due to the variety of hunters he has brought down.

Any last prep, before you go? Anyone to go see?
>

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And good evening, everyone.

For those who don't follow the Twitter, this one is a flashback thread--Cain Labs and myself have been alternating being out of contact, busy, sick, or any combination of the above, keeping us from being able to get the next mainstream thread developed. He just got back from a trip to Germany and I'll be traveling myself in less than two weeks. Since it's been more than long enough as is, we opted to run a side-thread--a flashback for Em--since it's literally background material or nothing.

Hopefully, you all enjoy.

So how's everyone doing tonight?

>>2763439
Doing fairly well.

And is Seven around? He might have additional insight, being as familiar with roster targets as he was.

>>2763423
Any notes on the place itself? Did the hunts happen at night, or anything else that might suggest a focus on stealth or fancy sensors?

....hmm. How to set Em up to not go crazy later. That would involve prep so that when the mission goes FUBAR he isn't.....COMPLETELY shell-shocked, and talking to the right people. Or the wrong people, when you clearly know not to be them. Not sure Seven is the right guy either way.

Is India here yet?

>>2763439
Evening HC, doing well here. You feeling better?

>Kiss our ass goodbye and prepare to headout

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>>2763501
It's been a busy while. My boss retired and I don't technically have one now (it went to his own supervisor, but he's half a continent away and mostly out of contact). Another veteran team member is moving away. I organized goodbye presents for both, so I've given myself the title of Fun Commissar among my team.

Right now I'm getting over a flu of some kind, today's roulette wheel symptom was bicep pain despite not being in the gym in almost a full week.

X Legacy Collection is out, and it's glorious. I'm actually chewing on X3 now.

And right now, Shooting Star, that MHQ story that actually updates in a timely manner, is running as we speak! Give it a read, we probably just barely avoided dying again. >>2744980

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>>2763439
Pretty good. Have some Chinese takeout right now, tried coloring that Dash Dodo drawing I did a while ago too. I don't know if it's canon, but I got these alcohol markers I wanted to use so here was an opportunity.

>>2763539
Speaking of, I also tried doing Corona Sphynx, but haven't been able to get that one right yet. Glad to have you running tonight!

>>2763497
India is in fact not here, and won't be for about two years.

>>2763483
Seven, however, is definitely an option.

>>2763539
Sounds like you've had busy past few weeks my friend!
You gonna take a stab at getting promoted to that vacant Boss position?
It's funny you mention CL was in Germany recently, I was in Munich 4 weeks ago.
And does the X Collection play as good as the clasic games?
I've been meaning to catch up on Shooting Star

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>>2763576
Definitely not first in line for the job, I'm near the bottom of the roster, but I've got a few good sempais and a good niche for myself.

XLC does have some slowdown, most notably on Switch, but I've got it on PC. I also use 1080 instead of 4K, so I don't notice major pixel misalignment issues, but I hear that's a thing on PC.
And Shooting Star's well worth your time. It's like a hot concentrated dose of MHQ, condensed and carefully formed and maximized.

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>>2763585
>And Shooting Star's well worth your time. It's like a hot concentrated dose of MHQ, condensed and carefully formed and maximized.

Aw shucks.

>>2763585
>condensed and carefully formed and maximized.
I can't help but imagine condensed milk: thick, flavorful, and oh god what happened to your sugar intake

>>2763576
plus, you get to swap strats with HC

>>2763423
Are we dating that Navigator right now? Or are our siblings built? If so, talk to one of them.

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>>2763610
It's true!

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>>2763622
You ARE dating Emily, though it's kind of an awkward patch.

Sapphire and Diamond are active but still in training/development. You visit them every weekend.

>>2763637
... Em and Em. Ha.

>>2763637
>awkward patch
I came for the angsty mission fuck-ups, I stayed for the popcorn-worthy relationship drama (and also for the angsty mission fuck-ups).

If it's not too awful an idea, go let our girlfriend know we're gonna go after our first A.

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>>2763653
I REGRET NOTHING

>>2763624
hmm. We have to double that image size and scale up the saber.

>>2763720
To be fair, I did that when it was still a dirk saber.

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>>2763722
Yeah, Shooting Star moves so fast, by the time you're done drawing one thing she's got another.

>>2763722
yes, it's now time for Meteor Showa version 2.1!

>>2763728
or 2.4, if we count all those frame upgrades.

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Hello again, everybody. As usual, taking wiki requests.

>>2763793
Dash Dodo? I noticed you got a link to him set up in the Mascot Era one.

>>2763637
I wanna see how we interact with our ladyfriend.

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>>2763920
I just want to take a moment to sit back and praise you guys here.
1: I really didn't expect anyone to remember this one-sentence bit of backstory.
2: You guys are making it SO MUCH WORSE for the poor bastard in the best way possible, I didn't even plan this.

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>>2763959
>You guys are making it SO MUCH WORSE for the poor bastard in the best way possible

Oh god

>>2763959
>You guys are making it SO MUCH WORSE for the poor bastard in the best way possible, I didn't even plan this.

Mmm yes good more

Can't wait to ruin Pacific Coffee for him, too.

>>2763959
With Anode having a better outlook on life, someone needs to pick up the emotional baggage.

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I want to know who else is in the 4th at this point in time but I'm afraid of making HC introduce new characters just to kill off immediately, so I'll second just second >>2763483

>He inclines his head. “I am the same. You understand, then, the futility? If you went maverick, what human could stand against you?”

"One holding a big electromagnet? I mean I'm ridiculously fucking weak to that, when Mac cuts me off I just stick a fridge magnet on my noggin and it's an open bar all up in here."

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Every time this quest comes back, I'm glad to see it isn't dead.

Unlike some other things I could mention.

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>>2764594
You mean like Zero? Hyuk hyuk hyuk

>>2763793
How about the Os-Tyrs? Were they supposed to be the blue guys with the red ear fins?

>>2764594
That image is pure magic

>>2764594
Shit, that hurts.

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>>2763959
Em's gonna hit a double dose of suffering isn't he.

On a sidenote I finally catch HC posting that art of Emerald I drew earlier this year in a live thread. Neat. Thought I'd post this other image I made of Anode drinking I made about the same time (which, interestingly enough, is getting outdated now that he's feeling better).

>>2764758
Nice

>>2764664
now that I look at it, that seat harness fits SNUGLY on the booblights.

WHAT COULD IT MEAN!?

>>2764768
He's wearing bra to prevent chafing.

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>>2763653

>>2764758
You have somewhere you post your stuff, Lavos?

>>2764808
Several, only issue is that they're too personal for me to comfortably share here.

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>>2764758
Nice! Thank you!

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>Call up your girlfriend
>Talk about the target with Seven
>>2763423
You decide you ought to give Em a call.

She picks up right away--by now they usually toss you right to her when you call. “Hey,” she says, queuing up vidfeed.

Emily looks as cute as ever, long brown hair braided back, bangs neatly framing pale skin, scattered with pretty freckles. Her navigator’s uniform is modeled after the plating on a Comm Logis, making her look like a tiny, adorable Reploid. Her deep brown eyes meet yours with visible relief.

“What’s up?” you ask, immediately a little concerned.

“Nothing, just glad to see you,” she replies. Side-eyeing out of frame, she leans closer to the terminal and whispers. “I can’t give you any details, but we’ve been getting a lot of bad news.”

That’s a bit alarming. Especially with Brickfielder retired less than a month ago. “I’m about to go on a hunt, that’s why I’m calling.”

“Be careful.”

You nod. “I will, I promise. It’s my first A-class. I figured…” you trail off.

She nods, mercifully sparing you from saying it out loud. “Yeah.”

There’s been some disappearances, lately. Disappearances, and KIA notices. After the first few weeks, the sudden uptick in casualty postings vanished. Seven was the one to point out that in all likelihood they didn’t go anywhere--they just stopped reporting them. You hate to say it, but he’s probably right.

“It’ll be fine,” you reassure her (and yourself). “This one is low-profile. We tracked him to his base, he’s not active.”

“... Why’d you take this hunt, Em?” She asks.

You rub the back of your helmet. “You’ll get mad at me if I say it.”

She giggles a little. “Go on.”

“I’m a lot more expendable than--”

”Em!”

You grin sheepishly. “Told you you’d get mad. Hear me out, hear me out. More expendable than the Commander or Major Lion. Based on the mav’s--” You stop yourself from saying ‘kills.’ “--Combat record, he’s a strong counter to endurance-types. And I’m flexible.”

She leans back in again, eyes half-lidded and voice low. “I know you are.”

You immediately cast a reflexive look around the command room. “Em…”

She lightens up, flushing a little pink as her tone goes from teasing to nervous. “Have you, uh… thought about it any more?”

You nod, brightening up. “After this hunt.”

“Really?”

You nod. “Really. Check my safe, just finalized the plans.”

She smirks impishly and her voice turns to mischief again, tapping in a few keys. “Pulling it up now…”

“Em…” you say hesitantly, feeling your shoulders rise and your head lower.

“Is this it? ‘Emerald-endoschem-dot-draft?’”

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>>2765123
“They record these, Em.”

“Ooh, it’s passworded! Keeping it a surprise, are we?”

“They record these, Em.”

“I know they do.” She looks back up from her screen, beaming while you try to shrink out of your chair and out of existence. “You’re serious?”

“Set the funds aside already. I mean, I’ll probably need repairs anyway, right?”

“Don’t talk like that--”

Turnabout’s fair play, Emily. “Probably full-body. Do they make casts for Reploids?”

She pouts cutely. “I’m dropping the call.”

You laugh. “Okay, okay. I better get going anyway. See you soon.”

The terminal screen winks off, and you kip up. One more thing to do.

Captain Seven’s in his usual break room, thumbing through files on his pad. He glances up when you come in, throwing a loose wave. “Hey.”

“Howdy. You busy?”

He shakes his head, tossing the pad to the couch. “Nothing important. What’s up?”

“I’m going after Imperious, wanted some input.”

“He could do better for naming, for one,” Seven offers.

You snicker. “True.”

“Well, let’s see… I put that dossier together. I’m surprised it landed on your lap, actually.”

You shrug. “I volunteered. Seemed like the usual approach doesn’t work for this guy.”

“Fair enough, I guess.” He rubs his chin, visor lending him a distance and dissonance from his friendly tone.

“And, hey... have you heard anything about the missing hunters?”

“Worried?” He asks. “I wouldn’t be.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Most of the disappearances have been high-profile, high-mobility ops. Traps laid on forced responses. And they’ve been prioritizing big names.“

You nod. “So I’m under the radar.”

“Yeah. Nice to be a smallfry sometimes, huh?”

You snort. “Something like that.”

“Though the way I hear it, you’re getting to the big leagues. Frog wouldn’t have signed off on this hunt if he didn’t think you could do it.”

“You’d never know that, hearing him fuss.”

Seven shrugs. “It’s just his way. Hopefully having Lion around will help him learn what a vacation is.”

“Hah! Not likely.”

He leans forward and sits up. “But really, Em. Maybe this is premature, but congratulations. You’re making it big.”

“Heh, thanks.” You never did know how to deal with a compliment.

“No, no, I’m serious. You’re a champion for the little guys. It’s nice to see that your line failing hasn’t held you back at all.”

That’s… You smile weakly. “Yeah. Thanks, Captain.”

He chuckles. “Just Seven, like always. And no problem.”

“I should probably get going.”

Seven nods, and kicks back, crossing one leg for balance as he reaches for his datapad. “Good hunting, Lieutenant.”

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>>2765125
You leave a little too quickly, heading back towards the pad, pace slowing as you pass by one of the roster boards. Huh, the gang's all here, for once.
>COMMANDER HAMMER FROG (A)
>MAJOR BRIGHTROAR LION (SA)
>MAJOR SCHWARZHUND (SA)
>CAPTAIN TANKER TIGERSHARK (SA)
>CAPTAIN SEARING AUODAD (A)
>CAPTAIN SEVEN (A)
>LIEUTENANT EMERALD (B)
>LIEUTENANT CHIPCHOP SHREW (C)
>LIEUTENANT DASH DODO (B)
>LIEUTENANT MESA MONGOOSE (B)
>LIEUTENANT TEFLON (C)
>WARRANT OFFICER CRANKSHAFT (B)
>WARRANT OFFICER VASH (C)
>WARRANT OFFICER MR. 49 (C)

>Check in with someone else.
>Head to the pad.
>Other?

>>2765125
haha, eat shit Seven.

....this is going to go so, so badly for Emerald.

>>2765126
wait, DODO! We HAVE to know what the 2 "refuse to upgrade forever" guys are like when they interact.

>>276512
>See Dodo
Holy shit, Em was dating a human? No wonder he’s twitchy about injuring humans.

>>2765134
>>2763653
>>2763657
>every time Anode shouted "Em" at Emerald for not being able to deal with humans, Emerald was having flashbacks of his girlfriend.

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>>2765126
>See Dodo

>>2765137
oh shit son

Also Jesus, Seven just fucked over everyone, didn’t he? I’m bettting whatever goes wrong is something he left out of that dossier.

>>2765132
>wait, DODO! We HAVE to know what the 2 "refuse to upgrade forever" guys are like when they interact.
I don't recall dodo being a refuse to upgrade type.

>>2765158
the entire reason Dodo was so easy to kill was because he refused to replace his CIVILIAN chasis for something tougher or could at least handle more GOFAST.

>>2765161
No, he definitely upgraded. He wouldn't have been able to hunt at all without a combat retrofit.

He was easy to kill because he was a B-rank speedster thrown up against a veteran S-class maverick.

>>2765165
>>2765166
I stand corrected, then.

I'm confused though. The way it was worded felt like he shouldn't be out shooting stuff at all, what with busters that can barely hurt mechaniloids and being too light to handle bigger dash systems.

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>>2765173
Rather than a proper EAS, he had an RAS--rapid acceleration system. Think something closer to what Overdrive Ostrich had. A more specialized system that complemented what he was designed for--gimmicky speed as a parcel delivery mascot.

And remember part of the "barely hurt mechaniloids" was unreliable narration and the sheer perspective of a specialist B with armament to match, forced to fight with a powerhouse like Tigershark. Dodo's normal strategy involved running around and away while whittling down the target. He couldn't run away, and there was no way he could do enough damage to someone as sturdy as Tanker. Remember that Em seven-hit combo'd his sim with beam sabers and then got oneshot.

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>>2765184
That's going to be a *fun* fight if we ever end up there.

>>2765173
B-rank isn't bad. Its pretty good for most non-war missions. B-ranks likely can cover most missions with A rank missions likely being fairly rare or unusual and S and G rank missions being the stuff of legends.

Wars turn A ranks into common foes and S ranks in to uncommon and scary opponents.

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>>2765187
Don't mind me...

>>2765126
Man.. the roster was really whittled down. Surprised Hammer is a A rank as well. Taking this was before the second Mav War?

>>2765125
>“Well, let’s see… I put that dossier together.
dammit Seven, not again (retroactively)

>>2765126
>LIEUTENANT CHIPCHOP SHREW (C)
Right away I feel bad for this guy.
I'd say talk with either Dodo or Mongoose. They're B-ranks too, and might know about fighting As at a disadvantage themselves.

Maybe they're in the same room?

>>2765283
Accurate.

>>2765298
Off chance this is non-maverick Seven. We don’t know when he turned. (Or if it was Ems fault he did)

>>2765126
>MAJOR SCHWARZHUND (SA)

See what the old dog thinks of you making it big.

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>>2765132
>>2765134
>>2765139
You decide to go check in with Dodo, one of your fellow Bs. He might have some insight about hitting above his weight class.

You cross through the base, towards the Pond, and--

“Swords!”

You grin, turning to greet… “Shields!”

Teflon’s heavily-armored forearm clangs against yours. “How’s it going, big guy?”

From anyone else, that might be a dig. But Teflon’s the real deal. Plus, his densely-armored frame isn’t really much taller than yours is. “Not bad. You just getting in?”

“Going out. Recon wanted a hand with something.”

You nod. “Heading out myself. You seen Dodo? Wanted to pick his brain.”

“If you’re heading for the Pond, you guessed right. He just got back in himself.”

“Thanks, man. See you there in a few hours?“

“You know it.” He thumps one of the two massive shields resting at his side. “Happy hunting, Em.”

Dodo is a common sight in the bar, but it’s rare to see Tanker. Given the state of his damage--and his grinning ear-to-ear mood--you understand why.

“I’m telling you, you shoulda seen it,” Tanker whoops, slamming his drill-claw into his palm. “Greatest fight of my life.”

“I can’t believe Frog sent you--you--against an ex-Shinobi,” Dodo ribs goodnaturedly, hooked up to that line of whatever it was he favors at the bar. “I mean, is there anything left standing?”

“Me!” Tanker roars gleefully. “Greatest! Fight! Of my life!”

“Yes, we got that one,” his diminutive friend replies drily. “But anything--oh, hey. Em!”

Tanker pivots to regard you over one shoulder. “So it is. How’s it going, little guy?”

Goddamnit.

Dodo clears his throat, and Tanker blinks. “...Oh, right. Sorry.”

“No big deal, sir.”

“Just Tanker,” he and Dodo chime in unison, before laughing and bumping knuckles.

“Right, sorry. You guys got a sec? I’m about to go after my first A, and--”

“You? You’re kidding.” Tanker grins. “I remember when they wouldn’t send you to mop a floor without help.”

“I remember that too,” Dodo offers helpfully.

“Gee, thanks,” you grumble. Dodo nudges Tanker, who obligingly turns and slides over from the… two, barstools he’s occupying. In retrospect, you realize all the tables have been parted to let the big fish swim through to the ‘water.’

You scoot in to the huddle, Max nodding at you in silence. You shake your head when he reaches for a glass--you’re on business.

“So you figured you’d come around for advice, I wager?” Dodo asks.

You nod. “Never gone against an A unassisted before.”

“Well, you came to the wrong bird,” Dodo says sympathetically. “I keep to my lane when it comes to solo hunts.”

Nuts.

“Not like his advice would do you any good,” Tanker adds jovially. “‘What you need to do, Em, is square yourself up at your enemy, and then move very very quickly in the opposite direction!’”

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>>2765865
Dodo waves him off. “Yeah, yeah.”

Tanker laughs long and hard at his own joke, before finally slowing his roll. “All right, all right. So I don’t have to tell you that you need to fight defensively, right?“

“Right.” Tanker’s favorite topic to prod you on is your shields. You’re probably going to be improving them first and foremost anyway.

“Other than that, the big thing is to watch out for new tricks. At this rank, everybody has more than one. Can’t tell you the number of times I’ve seen someone on the ropes pull out something new and--almost--get away. And don’t commit to an attack until you know it’ll work.”

You nod--you’ve seen him shrug off a saber blow before. “Don’t trade hits, don’t get predictable, don’t get fancy, don’t take risks.”

“And remember, run away if you have to!” Dodo adds. Tanker starts positively wheezing with laughter while your fellow Lieutenant fumes.

You clear your throat. “Disengagement should always be an option, got it.”

Tanker’s cackling redoubles.

>Anything else?

>>2765126
>That roster
Hello darkness my old friend

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>>2765966
Wuddup.

>>2765871
>Promise to meet for drinks at some point when you aren't busy.

>Check in on Brightroar real quick before hitting the telepad

>>2766030
Being beaten by Schwarz must have really done a number to him. Messed with his ego.

>>2765871
>Buy Dodo a beer to drown his sorrows, then go get traumatized and dismembered.

>>2766042
>>2765988
This, too.

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...I just thought, how *close* are we to X2?

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>>2766279

>>2766279
Can't be more than 6 months, as per the X2 opening cutscene

>>2765871
Buy Dodo and Tanker a drink for their advice before heading out

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>>2765871
“Well, thanks, guys. I’ve got your next round.” You pip-pip-pip the order in before either of them can argue. “I should be good for it. Collecting some bigger paychecks soon, eh?”

“Here’s hoping,” Dodo replies amicably, raising his coolant line in lieu of a proper glass.

“Take care, kid,” Tanker adds, his grin all teeth. Mind you, so’s his face...

-----

Rezador hasn’t spoken to you since Istanbul. Not that you were tripping over yourself to catch up with him.

Finally, today, though, he broke his silence and sent you a terse message. “Training room, after your morning hunt. Bring your finest dueling weapon.”

You’d thought about the Flambard, but even though you CAN duel with it, it’s not really what it’s for--you’d never tax the battery for prolonged melee with it. Not that you generally have to.

So instead, you bring an old favorite, one you started as a project weapon and turned it into your primary saber for years. As you built more specialized weapons your need for a supreme generalist fell by the wayside, but it remains your best weapon, built entirely from hand-picked components and assembled by yourself. Each piece from the lens to the emitter to the hilt itself is a careful piece of work, and the battery lasts longer than some of your older lobeams.

You’ve taken to calling it Plus One.

“This is it, then?” He asks, turning it over in his hands. “Worn.”

“From use,” you point out, hackles already rising.

“I see.”

Cool and calm as you please, Rezador inspects Plus One with mild, professional interest, and then simply closes his fist and snaps it in half.

It’s all you can do not to lunge. “You son of a bitch.”

Rezador drops the hilt like a stubbed cigar and smashes it underfoot, delicate emitter crunching beneath his heel. “Humans have sons. Humans are sons. Reploids are not. That is the first of many lessons you have plainly forgotten.”

You seethe, barely checking the urge to rip the hilts from your shoulders and lash out. Only the very--very recent reminder of what happens when you lose it keeps you in check. Instead, you hiss a low, pointed response. “Rezador, shut the fuck--”

“You are no one's son. You are what you were built to be, and nothing more.” His tone doesn’t so much as wobble, standing straight and folding his arms behind his back. “I thought you were ready. I was wrong.”

“So you break my fucking best weapon like a toddler smashing a toy? Fuck you!”

“So,” he ignores you entirely, “we are going back to basics. I will beat some sense into you, or you will die in the attempt.”

...No. No, fuck this, and fuck him. You turn sharply on your heel and storm for the door. “We’re done.”

That--that and nothing else--gets a glimmer of mirth out of him. “Are we?”

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>>2768001
You snap a glare back at him. “Did I stutter?”

“If you walk out on me, Gopher will do you no better, and your brother will rot in the hole they left him in. Forgotten.”

You freeze.

“I am the absolute gatekeeper of your revenge.” His eyes are cold and steely, unblinking and fixed on your own, almost swimming in your rage. “And you now have to earn it.”


-----

Major Lion is a giant of a hunter, and Commander Frog’s new second. He transferred over recently--he’s calm, but oddly disconcerting. Surprisingly soft-spoken, especially for his size, doubly so cut in red and gold as he is. But he radiates a certain forceful confidence, even while outwardly subdued. You honestly envy him for it.

His commanding presence, on the other hand, just makes you feel smaller. “Lieutenant.”

“Sir.” You salute. “How’s it going?”

“It goes.”

He lets that hang in the air, evidently unhurried in continuing the exchange. You’re silent just long enough to feel awkward before you venture to continue.

“Have you s--”

“Are you here on duty?”

Erm. “Y-Yes, sir. I’m on my way out.”

“Who is your target?”

“Imperious. He’s the duelist.”

“I am familiar.”

He lets that hang for an uncomfortably long time, but you don’t dare speak up again. You feel like a small weight on a very large scale--every line in his still face seems to assess you. “You will keep him at range.”

“That’s the plan,” you offer with a nod. “There were a few range-heavy victims, so I suspect he’s more mobile than he lets on.”

“Your damage output is unexceptional.”

Ouch. “It’s... been enough so far.”

“Hmm.” He turns to look at the roster posting on the wall. With one hand, he taps your name and marks your status.

>ON DEPLOYMENT

“As you were, Lieutenant.”

“Yes, sir.”

If you tour Montenegro, you could do better than this place. Recon’s beacon is tucked behind a stack of tires in a dingy, grey industrial palace, sun filtering in through through a thick dance of dust, swept up by your arrival.

Minimal comms, no direct support. Resistance before you get to Imperious should be light.

Buster at the ready and one hand free, you take a cautious step, listening. So far, nothing. They rigged the beacon on a small battery, rather than try to commandeer local power and risk tipping their hand. As long as no one actually saw you beam, you should be golden.

>Go fast.
>Go slow.

>>2768001
Hello there

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>>2768023

>>2768008
Gotta >go fast.

Don't give them time to get wise.

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>>2768008
>Go fast.

>>2768008
Fast

>>2768008
>slow
We're not catching this guy off guard, and he won't make any preparations if he hasn't already.

>>2768008
>Go slow.

Do note that Seven probably tipped off Imperious, so he'll be ready specifically for Em.

>>2768008
>Gotta hunt fast

>>2768008
Steady as she goes. Slow.

>>2768008
>>Go slow.
It's going to go terrible either way, might as well try and avoid rushing into an ambush.

>>2768217
This is before X2. Seven is still in deep cover.

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>>2768001
As soon as I saw his picture and read this part this naturally came to me

>>2768511
This is perfect, man!

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>>2768511
I love it.

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>>2768511
I thought of that, but also this meme.

>>2768008
>Go slow
No need to rush. That'll just be extra warning.
Hopefully there aren't security cameras...

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>>2768688
>>2768494
>>2768478
>>2768184
>>2768164
You take in your surroundings and try to remember what Schwarz taught you. Your subprocessor sweeps the area with you, detailing angles, avenues, even cross-referencing a few old machining lines.

Though there’s a lot of empty space for echoing, the abandoned industrial equipment and machines will help muffle sound. At the very least it will make it much harder to place where it’s coming from. That cuts both ways, though, and you’re not on friendly turf.

You keep your buster uncharged, the quiet hum nonetheless a risk for detection as you creep forward. Not for the first time, you enjoy a moment reflecting on the absurdity of a bright green robot trying to be sneaky.

Still, it seems to have worked. Up ahead, there are Bar Wayings--inactive ones. Dormant and silent, they wait to deploy their column-like bits. Rather than step through, you eye them a moment. They’re not set up to spring a trap, they’re attempts at a cordon for an intruder. Or so you hope.

Passing through, you enter what seems to be an old floor first aid station. Two ancient beds, upholstery sagging from rusty frames, line the back. Open, ajar, askance cabinets line one wall, one door hanging from one hinge.

Still nothing--wait.

You hear voices. The modular flange tells you it’s a Reploid, and a mass-produced model.

You can’t quite make out the murmur as you stealthily approach the back door--actual, dried and warped wood--and listen as best you can.

It sounds like Dutch. And you think you heard the word ‘entertainment.’ Peering around the corner, you can make out what looks like a Disk Boy 03--no shield--and a Hoganmer. Maverick heraldry cuts brightly through the muted dust of this place.

>Ambush them.
>Go around and find another ingress.

>>2768707
>Go around and find another ingress.

I want to see if we can't sneak up on our target instead of the usual frontal assault.

>>2768707
>Ambush them.
regardless of what Imperious has in store, Em works best with as few variables as possible.

>>2768707
>Go around and find another ingress.
I like the idea of a stealth mission.

>>2768707
>Go around and find another ingress.
A disk boy and a Hoganmer can be fairly tough customers for a lone B-rank hunter, especially one with 'unexceptional' damage output, as lion so helpfully put it.

>>2768677
Yeah I was going to make the filename a reference to that meme but it was late in the night and I forgot by the time I finished.

>>2768763
It's okay, I'm sure whenever it gets reposted someone will give it a good filename

>>2768707
>Go around and find another ingress

>>2768707
>Go around and find another ingress.

No surprises if we can manage it.

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>>2768714
>>2768735
>>2768745
>>2769046
>>2769090
You back away--no sense going loud for these two, they’re not your primary.

Instead, you eye a collapsed ceiling in the corner--the struts overhead look secure enough. Testing your weight, you’re inwardly (and privately) thankful for your slight build as you climb into what was once a drop ceiling over heavy pipework. It eventually opens out into a surprisingly wide service corridor, passing over the factory proper. Occasional ladders, most retracted, broken, or completely missing, dot the floor grates at intersecting columns.

You keep moving, slow and steady, feeling your tension rise as you continue to avoid engagement. Ahead, though--

>DETECTION IMMINENT

Your Subprocessor warns you as you see it--a Ray Trap. And if there are Ray Traps, there are laser trip-sensors. You size up the corridor and the odds of making it through, and decide against it. Back down you go.

The belt lines are dark--pitch dark, even, deep in the bowels of the plant. No lights shine, and your feet scraping the floor echo into nothingness against distant, unseen walls.

>COLLISION IMMINENT

Wh--

Long experience has taught you to move before you can fully process the warning, as a blazing gold streak rockets through the air where you stood a moment ago.

>HOTARION SIGNATURE ACTIVE
>HOTARION SIGNATURE ACTIVE
>HOTARION SIGNATURE ACTIVE

Glimmering motes from its wake settle beside you as the dark encroaches hungrily once more.

>COLLISION IM-

You dash straight forward, thrusting your buster forward, and loose a shot. The dazzling firefly mechaniloid spirals out of control, fireballing to your right as -MINENT finishes broadcasting. You pull yourself back upright, twisting nimbly aside as another barrels through where you were.

>HAZARDOUS SUBSTANCE DETECTED - CAUSTIC
>HAZARDOUS SUBSTANCE DETECTED - CAUSTIC
>HAZ-
>HAZ-
>HAZ-

The warnings become a never-ending and disjointed cacophony as the light from the passing Hotarion illuminates barrels and barrels of industrial chemicals. While likely old and lacking efficacy, they could be dangerous, especially if…

...Wait.

You slowly build charge, a strobing green beacon in the dark as your hand-cannon warms. You describe a loose arc with your steps, closer to the barrels. Wait… wait…

There.

You leap and fire, twisting midair to smash the Hotarion out of the sky, sending it spiraling into the barrels with a cataclysmic bang.

An instant later, the breached caustic ignites the mechaniloid’s twisted remains, springing ablaze and flooding the room into juttery light, shadows flickering wildly from the blaze.

While it’s not what you’d call “subtle” any more, you’re glad you did--ahead, you make out the sheen of reflected light on optics, just an instant before a cadre of Jammingers ascend.

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>>2769274
You crouch and fire straight up just as your buster cycles another charge, burning through the first offender and leaving you coiled to spring and roll past the second. You turn and gun it down with a quick one-two, leaping on instinct as the third passes below. The fourth is waiting for you to land, only to meet your blazing saber beam as you round out the landing. The survivor of the batch is easy pickings.

Silence falls, the missing Hotarion having flown off--you have to assume you’re made. You break into a run, clambering over industrial belts and pallets of never-finished product towards the far wall.

You make it to the door just as the duo from before burst in. The Hoganmer doesn’t wait, throwing his flail as the Disk Boy winds up and arcs a bladed disc overhead, aiming to swing it back around on you in a crossup.

>Move.

>>2769280
Close the distance and use your small size to get up close and personal with the discboy and introduce him to your beam saber then disengaged before the hoganmer can flail you

>>2769280
The flail's already out and that's the biggest thread. Dodge it and follow it right in to dispatch the Hoganmer first, while keeping the best LOS you can on that returning disc.

>>2769280
the Hoganmer gets the most zoning done. Take that out first while watching for the disk or Imperious.

anyone else find it weird that em is actually using his blaster?

but yeah, hoganmer is open right now so take him out first.

>>2769509
Pre-breakening Emerald had no reason to eschew it.

>>2769509
He used to favor his buster. Until a Certain Event where he was backed into a corner and his buster did him no good and all that worked was the saber.

>"I can't go back there. I CAN'T."

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Right, next update should be tonight. Just need to run errands and try to work out while my crapsack body lets me.

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>>2769412
>>2769424
>>2769509
Two zoning enemies, one tricky, one punishing.

Muscle goes first, this time.

You vault the chain as it streaks toward you, sprinting toward him, buster leading. Three shots splash across his breastplate before he can retract his chain and try to stop you. You slow a half-step to line up the timing--one leap clearing both the boomeranged disc and the flail head. You try to sneak one last shot in, but he steps forward and expertly blocks it along his shield. Breaking around his side at a sprint, you pepper him with fire as he moves with you.

The Disk Boy is off guard when you abruptly switch targets. You snap a shot up at his hand as he winds up, spoiling his aim as you make a running leap. The Hoganmer’s flail chases you, and only a quick kip off the back wall keeps you clear. You keep up the pressure, dive-rolling past his next discus and splashing two more shots across his chest. He breaks for cover, and you do the same.

A moment’s reprieve gives you the time to charge your buster--and the Hoganmer’s flail to smash through the stacked pallet you sheltered behind, raining aluminum cylinders. You dive away in the clatter, scooping one up as you go. The rolling of the last tubes masks the noise, and the flickering light from the caustic fire obscures the glow of plasma. Wait, wait, now.

You lob the cylinder, clanging across the floor for less than a second before a flying disk cleaves it straight in half. You vault over the top of your cover, spring, and catch him right in the chest. He staggers, shields dimming as he tries to swivel to aim on you. The Hoganmer’s flail streaks through the dim room, straight for your only path.

You finally engage your dash, the spiked mace whistling just overhead as you sweep under, a final hit striking home on the Disk Boy. He goes up in a room-lighting burst, giving you time enough to land two more shots on the Hoganmer. Rather than retract, he sweeps the flail across the room toward you, attempting to trip you on the chain. The Subprocessor goes nuts trying to track the serpentine lash of the flail, but you ignore it, charging back up as you close in, the maverick’s lambent optics fixed on you over the rim of his shield, raised warily.

You spring around once more as he backs up a step, making for the door. You fire straight at him, chasing the shot with a small barrage at his back. He hunkers down, rather than back up into your fire, wise to your game.

Unfortunately, with the charged shot splashing across his shield, the blinding flash masks your final move. He realizes a half-second too late, retracting the flail as your saber drives into his side. It falls limp as the maverick burns to nothing, plunging you back into silence.

>Out through the way they came in--resistance sure to follow, but also your objective.
>You can turn detection to distraction. Thin out the next attack.
>Other?

>>2771473
>You can turn detection to distraction. Thin out the next attack.

>>2771473
>You can turn detection to distraction. Thin out the next attack.

This sounds good to do.

>>2771473
>You can turn detection to distraction. Thin out the next attack

>>2771473
>You can turn detection to distraction. Thin out the next attack.

While I'm sure the secondary subprocessor could plot a way through all of them, let's not burden it with a pile of foes all at once.

Wait, I thought this guy was supposed to only fight 1 on 1.

>>2772162
That's when he goes out and picks a fight on his own - this is his home base.

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So today was busy as hell and I wound up unable to use the gym because my knees crapped out on me. Still, I was productive. And just in time for bed, I got this out of the way, too. Ending my night on a high note.

Seems like as good a time as any to say it again: Thank you for playing.

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>>2772375
Nice!

>>2771473
>You can turn detection to distraction. Thin out the next attack.
So this is how much effort a B grade buster needs to get through a hoganmer.

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>>2771491
>>2771509
>>2772109
>>2772147
>>2772894
You’re moving before the last piece of scrap falls, mind made up. If he can send two combat Reploids out on patrol, he has more to throw at you. Scaling one of the belt machines and latching onto a hanging lamp, you clamber up the struts and back into the rafters.

Industrial, for all its flaws, gives you great maneuvering up here--you pick a secluded corner near a ventilation duct, sheltering you and affording you a view to the room. Sure enough, here they come--Two more Disk Boys and… Two of the new Lanceteamer Bingos. That isn’t good.

They fan out, sweeping all corners as they advance through the shop floor. The two LTBs stay close, hand signals and unspoken communication keeping them closer-knit than the Disk Boys.

You’ll start with the softer targets, then.

The first Disk Boy doesn’t even have a chance to cry out--a quick double-sweep of your saber blade hacking him down mid-shout. You grab the rim of the belt behind you and hurl yourself back, boot catching it on the trip to launch yourself out of view as his friend rounds the corner to investigate his explosion.

You dart around the machine and over a belt as silently as you can, waiting for the Lanceteamers to move by. You wait for four sets of boots to thunder past, then spring from hiding and make another sword-stroke. He’s better trained than the Disk Boy, though, rolling away from your second hit, snap-firing back at you. His buddy rounds the corner, a charge shot on par with your own sizzling by, precariously close to your face.

You leap back, scoring another buster shot that the unwounded LTB shoulders as he sprints ahead to shelter the other, and dash right as a second charge shot chases you away. Another feint--you leap over the divider and back the way you came, a charge shot coming ready just in time to loose it into the Disk Boy struggling to catch up. He screams and throws a blade, but you twist to the side, sending shots backward to slow up the LTBs, and pivot back to draw your saber on him. He goes down roughly, and only a quick jump and kick off the stacked crates to one side saves you from an expertly-laid volley by the two Lanceteamers.

They’re back to back now, eyes sweeping high and low as they cover all angles, ready for you.

Unfortunately, you’ve already got one on the back foot. He catches your shot in the shoulder as you lunge again, partner spinning to intercept once more. This time, you don’t break away, leaping the counter-salvo and keeping up the fire. You barrel in, hand cocked back over your saber--

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>>2774145
Then duck and roll under the wounded one’s charged shot, coming up with your own at the ready. Between the two, you snap-fire into the wounded one, duck a swung arm, and come back up with your saber, raking the fresher of the two and batting his buster away. The free one draws a bead on you, only for you to drop your saber and fall with it, squaring your aim with your buster and putting a final round through his chest. Falling back to gain ground, the survivor fills the area with burst-fire, but you twist and spring, your other saber igniting to intercept. You lunge, building charge in your back arm as he drops low, muzzle all but poking your chest before your lobeam cleaves through rifle, arm, and Lanceteamer in one stroke.

Clear.

You size up the approach again, and the time it took--you zoned them out, which cost you some time, but by now the alert has gone out. You need to proceed. With the overhead filled with Ray Traps, you can’t imagine the vertical approach will work for much longer. Instead, you keep to the ground, cautiously approaching the door the attackers have all come from. The far side is clear--mostly.

You catch them just as they’re discussing whether to send in the next team, or not--and unfortunately, that moment of distraction is all you need to slip into the room and around the side. You see another Hoganmer, this time accompanied by a Geist and a single Lanceteamer Assail. Eyes, brains, and muscle, this group.

>Take out the Geist. He’s the best spotter and scout.
>Burn down the Hoganmer. He can do the most damage.
>Take out the Lanceteamer. He’s clearly in charge.

>>2774148
>Take out the Geist. He’s the best spotter and scout.
it takes coordination to beat Em, but scouts are quicker to kill.

>>2774148
>Take out the Lanceteamer. He’s clearly in charge

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>>2774148
>Take out the Geist. He’s the best spotter and scout.
He's the Most Dangerous

>>2774148
>Take out the Geist. He’s the best spotter and scout.

>>2774298
Also Geists have cloaking systems, that's not good in environments like this

>>2774148
>Take out the Geist. He’s the best spotter and scout.

We'd do better if the other two don't know where to aim.

>>2774148
>Take out the Geist. He’s the best spotter and scout.

>>2774148
>Take out the Geist. He’s the best spotter and scout.

Become the night.

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>>2774224
>>2774298
>>2774320
>>2774322
>>2774335
>>2774652
>>2775646
You size them up, thinking back to your lessons with Schwarz. Damage is bad, but the ability to inflict it is worse. If you’re not defending something else, all you have to do is defend yourself. How would you kill Emerald right now? Catch him out, pin him down, suppress, finish with hammer and anvil. That Geist has got to go.

After survival comes time--the faster you finish, the less like you are to be interrupted. The Lanceteamer, calling the shots isn’t as sturdy as the Hoganmer, but he has the potential to turn this skirmish into a slog.

Last is the direct route--nice when you can take it, but it’s never that simple. Despite being the strongest, the Hoganmer is the least threat to you on his own. Him third. You can do that.

It’s three on one, and three sets of eyes to look for you. Detection--and a real fight--are inevitable. You can work with that. Catch the Geist first, then zone out the Lanceteamer while keeping the Hoganmer defensive.

You’re thankful that Geists are more fragile than Disk Boys, at least, as you silently approach from his blind spot--suddenly pouncing forward as the LTA shouts an alarm. The Geist tries to cloak, but you tag him with a snap-shot and follow the flickering strobe of his shield for the split-second before he vanishes. The LTA shoots, the Hoganmer throws--and sizing up where their strikes lay, you know where the Geist isn’t. You burn your dash early to come down fast and hard, your saber lashing out and biting into solid air. The Geist materializes around your blade, spasming once as he goes up in flames.

https://youtu.be/SJlNbBqK0Wg

Dash spent, you have to pull some creative acrobatics to avoid the hailstorm of plasma and ceratanium sent your way. The Subprocessor howls unhappily, but you tune it out, the rhythm of the fight building. Over, then under, training your buster on the Hoganmer to throw them off. He retracts the flail and turtles up, but the Lanceteamer sees your game, breaking away to shelter behind him.

The LTA is clever, firing over the shoulder of the Hoganmer. That sharply limits his options, though, and both of you know it. You circle around the shield-side, the pair swiveling to keep face on you. You build charge, then spring. Your saber sweeps with your free-hand, cutting through the Lanceteamer’s volley--you anticipate the Hoganmer’s counterstrike, stepping in past his guard and snapping your buster in, forcing the LTA down to exact a return-swing with the saber on your way past. The Hoganmer snaps the chain back and shoulders forward with his shield, knocking your outstretched saber from your hand but failing to tackle you. You turn and fire into his side as he does, then leap straight over him and down on the LTA, driving him back and the two apart.

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>>2776440
You chase him as he goes, drawing your other saber and clipping him with a sudden dash forward. He goes for his own weapon, a beam knife, lashing out quick and furious. You backstep, pivot, and snap another shot for the Hoganmer, clipping him once more as he tries to throw the flail through your back.

Splitting them up is risky, but it limits their options again--the Hoganmer can’t catch you in a proper crossfire and knows it. Barreling forward, he tries to close up the distance and cut you off again, the advancing LTA pressing in with quick swipes of the knife. Wheeling your saber, you parry, parry, counterstrike--and the LTA’s optics widen as he sees your feint an instant too late, your charged buster tucked under his chin. He crumples headless and leaves it to a one-on-one with the damaged Hoganmer, who falters as his leader drops. He can’t win this. He knows it, and you know it. And from the way he looks around, you don’t think help is coming. You build charge, waiting to see which way to break.

“Really, now,” someone declares.

From a glass elevator--the panes for which are long gone--your target descends. Imperious looks bemused, but unruffled. The Hoganmer freezes solid, those eyeless yellow slits widening at his intrusion. “Give the man back his beam saber, Ruel.”

The Hoganmer looks down at your saber, and back up at you--you keep yours up and at the ready, eyeing both cautiously.

“Well?”

Slowly, incredibly, the Hoganmer, this Ruel, sets down his shield, and collects the fallen blade. Carefully, as wary of you as you are of him, he rolls it over to you. You bend and collect it, tucking it back over your shoulder as he moves to collect his shield.

“Leave it.” Imperious stops the elevator, stepping out onto the empty domed sill around it. “You should not have let him by, Ruel.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” Ruel says, accented in what you place as Portugese. More than that--more than anything--he actually turns his back to you, looking up at his boss. He lets his shield fall, clattering to the ground heavily as Imperious lives up to his name.

“Really. Well? What are you waiting for?”

You see Ruel flinch as if struck, but he says nothing.

“Engage the maverick hunter.”

He slowly turns back to you, those optics now dim with resignation. What is this? “You… you don’t have to do this,” you offer.

“Yes,” he says quietly as he raises his flail, “I do.”

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>>2776443
He doesn’t even try to avoid your return-fire, the charged shot shearing through his arm at the shoulder and sending up a cascade blast through his frame.

https://youtu.be/YfjalT1H7Zg

Imperious hops down lightly, dusting off his knees with more irritation than he showed with your presence. He approaches slowly, crossing what was once the car showroom floor with slow, measured steps.

A tall humanoid with shining white armor and purple trim, he cuts a royal figure. Even his helmet crowns him with three crested points, over bored, half-lidded eyes and a pleasantly neutral--and hollow--smile. Clear blue eyes and a pointed chin give him a slender, nearly elven grace. A cape, bright red with a white back, flutters through the settling dust. On either hip rests a saber hilt, shining chrome finish gleaming from methodical, dutiful care.

He isn’t making any hostile moves.
>?

>>2776447
>Engage in conversation, measure him out?

>>2776447
Going with >>2776485. Keep both eyes on him but start with banter.

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Random thought: Present-day Em doesn't rely on his subprocessor nearly as much as he is here, at least not consciously.

>>2776447
>>2776562
"Too lazy to execute your own subordinates? That's a new one."
...Hostages?
Prisoners?
Sex slaves? Whatever, I'm putting a stop to it.

>>2776447
Keep him talking, size up the area and think. We can use the area to help, alongside the shield that was dropped as a cheap surprise. He's got dirty tricks, you have dirty tricks.

>Ask about his sabers.

>>2776447
there isn't much we can do to improve our chances. I dunno, preload possible actions we can do using the environment? The shield should come in handy, even if all we do is kick it upright.

Ping HQ that we're engaging him, and what his loadout is? Having a bit of backup to bail us out would be nice.

>>2776447
>COME! LET US TALK WITH SWORDS!

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>>2776485
>>2776562
>>2776659
>>2776678
>>2776810
>>2776882
He’s… Well, he’s definitely a talker. He’s definitely something, that’s for sure.

He’s also in no rush. You size him up quickly--a fairly standard build, more broad than stout. His armor looks fairly decent. You don’t see any major signs of buster or EAS work--he probably has something past the sabers, but any mechanisms are fully concealed. He definitely favors his aesthetic.

“I’m Lieutenant Emerald,” you start, hoping to provoke some banter with the stock opener. “I’m here to take you in.”

It works. “A Lieutenant?” He sniffs. “A Lieutenant.”

“Is… that a problem?” You ask.

Imperious casts a skeptical eye over you. “I’ve killed two Captains since January.”

You size up the room. There’s that shield, that’s obvious, but it’s pretty heavy, probably too heavy for you to use more than once. The central elevator is just now reaching ground level. A few raised dais platforms where cars were once on display. A central desk and a row of old chairs are near a cordoned-off set of doors, shuttered and barred. Some recessed spaces in the walls suggest a rotating assembly. It looks noticeably newer and cleaner than the surrounding tile. The ceiling is too high to make use of unless you get near a wall.

“Still… making it this far with that loadout,” he gestures vaguely at you, “and without damage… you favor some finesse in your approach, don’t you?”

You eye him--still smiling placidly--and hover your hand over your saber, ready to break. He tsk-tsks you.

“You can do better than that. I watched you skewer poor Verdun with that atrocious thing.” He casually draws one of the sabers from his hips, igniting it to reveal a brilliant, pale-green blade, edges clean and sharp--a hibeam, and from the looks of it, a good one.

He tosses it to you. You leap back as his arm moves, wary of a trick. It tumbles, rolls… and comes to a rest. No flash, no blast. He crinkles his nose slightly in annoyance, face expressively genial.

“How about a game, maverick hunter? A duel, with proper weapons, not those tawdry blades.”

“What, are you kidding me?” you ask, mildly incredulous. Putting aside that you had no intention of dueling him at all, just pick up his weapon?

“You really ought to consider it,” he says calmly, unflappable. Behind him, on the show floor, one of those recesses against the far wall starts to turn. You snap up your buster, building charge…

...And a cluster of humans swivels into view, huddled close in a cage.

Suddenly, it clicks, what his men were saying earlier.

‘Entertainment.’

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>>2778361
Each human--you count six--is burdened with a bulky grey collar, a single glowing red light winking from the center. One adult male, two adult females, two juvenile boys, and a very small girl. The man and one of the women sport bruises and some very, very new looking bandages. The man’s arm is hastily splinted and wrapped. The children look up at you, eyes bright through the gloom, but one of the women shushes and steps forward, wrapping her arms around them. You hear low whispers to them, but you can’t make them out.

“Come now, let’s make this sporting.” Imperious declares, turning on his heel and strolling back out to the center of the room. “Please, take my offer, I think I’m being quite fair. You and I, with my sabers and my sabers alone--and if you win, they all go free.”

“And if I don’t?” you ask.

Imperious just smiles.

His saber lies where you left it, the chrome accented with a purple grip and stylized white lines along the seams.

>No. Not a chance.
>Fake him out.
>...Fine. Deal.
>Other?

>>2778364
>...Fine. Deal.

When there's hostages? Yes.

>>2778364
>...Fine. Deal.

Probably has a detonator for the hostages. Give him the duel he wants and win.

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>>2778364
>trusting a weapon that a maverick has just handed you
How do lobeams interact with hibeams in a saber fight? Emerald probably doesn't know that much about swords at this point, but at the same time, he also has no experience in using a hibeam.

Thank him for the offer, but try to insist on using your own saber. When he objects, remind him that a corpse is still a corpse, no matter how pretty the cuts are. If he cares about that, maybe he should try not to get hit, no?

>>2778364
>... Fine. Deal.
>If the opportunity to get the detonator away from him comes up, cheat with both hands.

>>2778384
As far as Mavericks go, I'm inclined to trust this one when it comes to honorable combat. He seems to enjoy dueling and it doesn't feel like he'd break his word.

On the other hand, honor doesn't mean jack here for us, as long as we can win without civilian casualties.

>>2778364
>Bargain to add our green sabers. The colors match better.
Whether we succeed or not, it keeps attention away from the shield.

>...Fine. Deal.

>>2778364
>...Fine. Deal.

I hope Em ends up enjoying himself and hates it.

>>2778361
>COME! LET US TALK WITH SWORDS!

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>>2778367
>>2778374
>>2778606
>>2778641
>>2778820
>>2779513
You don’t like this. Every instinct you have--every lesson Schwarz hammered into you--is screaming that this is an awful idea.

But, looking at those humans--the way they flinch, the haunted, empty look in that man’s eyes--you can’t. You just… can’t.

“...Fine. You’re on, Imperious.” You collect the hibeam--probably the best weapon you’ve ever held--and ignite it, taking a one-handed stance.

“That’s the spirit,” he says grandly, drawing its twin and turning to face you.

-----

No no no not again not again NOT AGAIN NOT AGAIN DAMN IT DAMN IT DAMN IT GOD DAMN IT.

Rezador’s blade juts a scant half-centimeter from your breastplate--again--and halts there. He cuts the blade and twists away, victor of yet another spar.

“You are learning,” he says, in that tone just south of mockery, just north of praise, “however slowly.”

“Fuck you,” you opine gracefully.

He turns to face you, face a cipher behind that mask, the only feature his icy gaze. “Why are you afraid?”

“I’m not…” God fucking damn it, yes you are. “Bad memories. Bad places.”

“Hmm.” Rezador turns away once again, arms folded behind his back, and not for the first time, you fantasize vividly about a vertical cut taking all four of his worthless hands off. “Fear, in your specialty. Have you a history there?”

“That’s my business,” you growl. Leave it alone, Rezador.

He doesn’t, of course. “You are my student. Perhaps the first and only worth more than a breath spent on naming them. It is my business.”

“Fuck you,” you opine gracefully, trying to steady yourself.

Rezador turns back to you, the light glances off his peripheral optics at a thirty-five-degree angle, his pupil contracts instead of dilates, his hands are between his wings and his spine more weapons there he is studying you and awaiting your response you are hyperfocusing Emerald stop it stop it stop it.

“You aren’t afraid of dying,” he notes--no shit--”and you aren’t afraid of me. So why…”

“I don’t. Like. Losing,” you hiss. “Now drop it and fight.”

Rezador lacks the face to smirk. “Very well.”

-----

You’re good--Schwarz said so himself. You’re not as fast as him, and nowhere near as experienced, but you’ve got the reflexes to match. You can do this.

You wheel the blade, stepping in closer as Imperious waits, blade unignited.

You swing.

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>>2780975

>CONTACT IMMINENT

Pain.

In a dazzling flash, a cut appears across your midsection, the dull throb of your shields a tarnished mirror of the flash of pain bolting through your systems.

Time rushes to catch you as, a second later, reality sets in. Imperious turns lightly, poised and airy, as your systems scream critical damage warnings at you.

His eyes meet yours. Just like before, placid and amicable, as he raises that brilliant green blade again.

You thrust--you have to, he’s coming in too fast--only to feel the sting of contact plasma across the back of your hand, and you cry out in shock as you spasm, blade clattering to the floor. Your eyes dart back up only to find that glimmering blade at your throat.

“Pick it up,” Imperious says lightly.

“I--”

“Pick it up.”

>Pick it up.
>...Make me.
>Other?

>>2780977
>Make me.

Suddenly I don't like that saber anymore.

Attack him, then if our reflexes manage, pick it up afterward.

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>>2780977
>Imperious has guilted all of the other Hunters sent after him to duel with swords
>he's killed each of them in exactly this same way
>Command is not aware of any of this
Okay, what the hell is up? Couldn't someone get comms out, at least inform them what's going on? Could we? Should we run?

I kind of like the idea of Em having this recurring nemesis who's still out there, but, having picked up Schwarz's habits, he never talks about the guy.

>>2780977
>Shoot him.

>>2780977
Just pull out your lobeams, em

>>2780977
I got a better idea.
Pick it up. Throw it in his face before going in with your own weapons.
Not going to win on his terms, and hes going to throw a bitchfit and probably start offing hostages when we refuse, so got to get in quick to attempt to save anyone.

>>2781582
throws are pretty telegraphed. At the speed Imperious is working with, I don't like our odds. I'm also worried his power revolves around warping to his sabers.

I got the X collection for PS4 and I feel like I understand a lot of the direction you take with the quest. I have enjoyed following along but X4 brings the world alive a lot more then the earlier games.

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>>2781014
>>2781177
>>2781246
>>2781576
>>2781582
>>2781612
“...No,” you say--wincing as he flicks the tip of the blade up, sizzling into your chin. You jump back, but not without a new line on your face, almost up to your mouth.

His eyes open, just a little--hungry, predatory. Excited.

“Pick it up,” he whispers.

“Make me.” you hiss, snapping up your buster to fire.

He wheels the blade, casually letting plasma splash across the beam. He lunges, and you leap back, deflecting his expert stab with a quick draw of your own saber.

“How soon we forget!” He laughs, that smile becoming something altogether twisted without changing a bit. You swing, the beam practically sliding off his own, too fluid to follow.

>CONTACT IMMINENT

You feel the rake of that blade across--no, through--your side as you thrust your buster forward and fire, point blank.

The charged shot goes wide, as his free hand bats the weapon askance. You’re trying to pull back and twist away as he rolls his arm and traps yours under his. He whirls, gouging his blade out of your side as he forces your gun back up… and to the humans.

“Go on. Fire,” he says lightly.

The adults, as one and without a moment’s hesitation, step forward and shelter their children.

“No!” You try to bring your hilt down on his head, but his saber flits across your wrist, holding you there and digging in slowly, agonizingly slowly.

>WARNING: CONTACT ENERGY

“Fire,” he repeats. He saws his blade in deeper, your saber clattering to the floor once again.

>WARNING: CONTACT ENERGY

“Fire, please.”

>WARNING: CONTACT ENERGY
>WARNING: CONTACT ENERGY
>WARNING: CONTACT ENERGY

“Fire, please.”

“Go to hell!” You snarl--he’s so strong, how are you going to…

“As you wish,” he says cheerfully.

You can barely follow what happens, but you understand immediately as an explosion pops from within your arm, his blade slipping in without resistance, a meter-long sliver of plasma running through from side to side. You scream in pain as the internal reactor and the WEAPON cell go up as one, the armor on your limb actually bowing and swelling as it contains the blast.

>WARNING: CONTACT ENERGY
>WARNING: BUSTER DAMAGED
>WARNING: BUSTER DISABLED

He cuts the beam and gracefully twists away, discarding you. Your head snaps back up in time to find the blade at your throat once again… and a tap at your heel. You slowly look down to see his second saber hilt, rolled gently back to you somewhere in the dizzying salvo.

Imperious smiles. “Pick it up, if you please.”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BiWoCFeyChU

…

“Pick it up.”

>...

>>2782062
>Pick it up
>Dash the fuck out of there
We all know it's not going to work, but Em's gotta suffer.

>>2782062
>Pick it up.
>Break it.
"Fffffuck you."

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>>2782421
I swear to god, you people

>>2782062
>Pick it up
>Play the wounded dog

I feel like the only chance we have is to get him while he's underestimating us. So play it up, seem worse off than we really are. Even though we're already really fucked up.

>>2782062
>Pick it up
>Play the wounded dog

Poor fucking Emerald.

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>>2782113
>>2782770
>>2783209
You need to do something. Anything. Think, Em, think…

When you can’t do much, hide what you can. One of Schwarz’s many lessons. You hope they’ll be enough. You take a step back, lurching ungainly when you shift weight to your injured side. You glance downward, and back up at him, and his smile grows wider and thinner.

“Fine,” you growl, not needing to fake the pain in your voice. Recollecting the saber, you raise it again, leaving your other arm hanging by your side, unpleasant heat inside the rent armor reminding you it’s there.

You can’t stay on the defensive, you know, but right now you have to--you just don’t know what to do. Maybe you can feel him out. He definitely seems to be taking his time.

“Very good,” Imperious praises, turning his wrist as he raises his blade again. He turns to cut a narrow profile, blade tip pointed up, feet coming together--

>CONTACT IMMINENT

He’s springing. You roll to the side, pushing the blade away from your body--sure enough, he’s too fast, it comes right back around, and only a false pratfall from your injured side keeps him from taking another slice out of you. You come up cautiously, expecting him to spring, but he doesn’t, recollecting himself and tucking his cape behind his shoulder idly.

“You learn quickly.”

“Kinda have to,” you grimace, readying up again.

-----

“Why are you afraid?” Rezador asks bluntly.

Your shoulders raise as your posture stiffens. You have to force the anger back down and exhale before you reply. “I was put in a bad place--”

“No,” he cuts you off. “I am asking you why you think you are afraid. You are very overwrought binary. You do not feel fear. You do not ‘feel’ anything.”

“So you felt a whole bunch of nothing when you punted my saber out of my shoulder, Captain Logic?” you growl. His cape-like wings twitch. Once.

“We were built by humans, and so we act as them. For familiarity, for comfort, for their benefit. Ultimately, a Reploid behaving ‘humanlike’ may fool someone into believing they are not conversing with a deadly tool. Sometimes, we fool even ourselves.”

You snort. “Bullshit. We think we feel, but we don’t? What’s the difference?”

“The difference,” Rezador says, turning back around, “is that I do not instruct you in philosophy.”

He lunges, and you spring back, one-two, onetwothree, onetwothreefour. His blades fall like rain, at once offense and defense, steering you where he so chooses. Back, aside, away, any move you could make has a counter.

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>>2783746
So does what you do, of course, but it works.

Forward, in, down, back up--rather than be driven, you drive. It’s simple spacial awareness--four blades. None can share the same space. Four angry lines tear up anything in their way. Parry, deflect, over, under.

Strike.

Your sword flies from your grip the microsecond after, disarmed so quickly that it embeds itself in the wall before the beam has dimmed. Four angry lines wreathe you, two at your wrist, two at your throat.

Rezador pulls them back, blades dying as he sheathes the in one fluid move. “That is enough for now.”

You pry your weapon from the wall it buried itself in. “What, seriously?”

“Reflect on it.” Still, even as he straightens and folds his arms behind his back, you can’t help but notice the shift in his tone. Somewhere behind that new, shallow cut on his faceplate, there’s a smile.

-----

“You were faking,” Imperious says quietly.

You remain silent, eyeing him warily as you circle back around.

“Your arm, your side… you’re just fine, aren’t you?” He touches two fingers to the gouge across his breastplate, a faint trickle of something subdermal wetting his immaculate fingers.

You actually flinch when his gaze snaps back up to yours. Eyes wide. Pupils shrunk. He’s grinning.

“You’re just fine!” He repeats. “With a blade through your arm and a hole in your side. Oh, this is… oh, I like you, Lieutenant Emerald.”

He raises his weapon, the giddy joy in his voice pitching sideways and falling into a low, murderous razor. “This is going to be fun.”

Shake it off--you hit him. You can do it again.

>CONTACT IMMINENT

You twist aside as he charges again, just barely away. Blades clash, but this time he keeps going, breaking his pattern. Rather than overpower you again, he pivots on his heel and rounds into a quick slice that you barely, barely deflect.

>CONTACT IMMINENT

He rolls his wrist, swaying back and then forth into a serpentine stab, you leap in past his guard, throwing an elbow to buy time--

>CONTACT IMMINENT

--no good, he’s too quick, he glides down and around and comes back in, grabbing your arm as he brings the blade reverse-gripped to hew through your upper arm, you move in with him, desperately plunging your saber forward and down, forcing him to let go--

>CONTACT IMMINENT
>CONTACT IMMINENT
>CONTACT IMMINENT

--around, down, pinning your weapon to the floor as he backhands you, the blade slicing across the back of your neck a split-second later, no time to grab it, you go for your own off your back--

>CONTACT IMMINENT
>CONTACT IMMINENT
>WARNING: CONTACT ENERGY
>CONTACT IMMINENT
>WARNING: CONTACT ENERGY
>CONTACT IMMINENT
>WARNING: CONTACT ENERGY
>WARNING: CONTACT ENERGY
>WARNING: CONTACT ENERGY
>WARNING: CONTACT ENERGY
>WARNING: CONTACT ENERGY

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>>2783752
You stumble back under a blinding rain of blows, the blinding flash of his sword dazzling you. One, two, a dozen wounds spring open as you fall back and back and back, cuts and stabs and burns.

>WARNING: CONTACT ENERGY
>WARNING: CONTACT ENERGY
>WARNING: CONTACT ENERGY
>WA--

Your back hits the wall.

Imperious’s hilt hits you in the stomach. Raising you in the air, impaled on his saber, he holds you aloft like a trophy, grinning wildly up at you. He shakes you once, and you cough, tasting oily ‘blood,’ his knuckles digging into the cut as your weight sinks down upon him.

>Do something. Do anything.
>...

>>2783755
>Spit at his eyes
>Activate dash, surely we've lost enough weight for an "air dash"
>Shoulder saber his saber hilt

>>2783755
He can't dodge you if you're stuck at arm's length. Go for the throat.

>>2783755

>>2783788 's suggestion sounds good.

>Blind him via spitting oil
>Use the opportunity.

>>2783755
>>2783811
>Faster, Emerald! Kill! Kill!

>>2783752
>>2783746
Is it bad that I think I am beginning to get Rezador somewhat?

>>2785184
I can get that he's a fucking idiot who thinks humans are magical creatures.

>>2785184
Getting him is all well and good, but the key is explaining why his way of thinking is NOT what Em needs. Emerald is so centered on the "fear" thing because it helps him be sure that he won't go mav. Rezador is trying to break that fear because it keeps him from getting gudder. And he's right.

So Em's trying to invent a new safeguard from going mav(Anode deathpact). To him, words and logic explaining how dropping the fear won't make him go mav are too....incorporeal. Not simple enough.

>>2785205
Except he seems to be using this as combat doctrine. Feelings of fear and anger keep holding Emerald from his talent. He fears loss. He fears that knowledge that he isn't the number one melee specialist because that is all he has. That keeps causing him to think of Imperious, throwing him off, and feeding that anger. That anger that caused him to get absolutely shredded by Schwarz when he lost all control, could have been fatal if it were anyone else, and keeps seething. Unlike humans, reploids have the luxury of knowing their feelings are artificial, the things trying to eat them from the inside are constructs that can be defeated, or silenced, if you develop the clarity to do so. All his frustration at Rezador, it holds Emerald back from his true potential. All his fear of losing, Imperious, being put back in that corner, going maverick, that is all a construct created by his coded feelings that has no place on the battlefield. If he can move past that, can turn it off as easy as drawing a sword, he can be THE best.

>>2785241
Not just that. He also fears being put back into the spot Imperious put him in. That is what he must turn off in the heat of combat.

>>2785247
I don't think that the best way to convince Em he won't go maverick is to tell him his humanity is meaningless.

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>>2785247
>coded feelings
Reploids aren't coded though, that's the whole point of them over things like the robot masters. You can't just look under the hood at the programming to see exactly how they will react to a given stimulus because they are actual thinking beings. Rezador is just an edgy cunt.

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>>2783788
>>2783811
>>2784068
>>2785060
You grit your teeth, keeping your eyes on his, even as the metallic, bitter tang in your mouth grows stronger. You scramble and scrabble helplessly--

Then spit. You grab his throat with one hand and his wrist with the other as you twist back, planting the soles of your boots against the wall and dashing.

He’s not blinded for long, one eye clear and locked on yours, wide with glee even as you feel his blade tearing its way through your stomach. Your grip keeps the blade moving with you, but not enough--even as your hand closes around his neck, you feel that stab widen into a massive gouge.

>WARNING: CONTA--

You know, you know, shut up, shut up…

You go for your saber again, even as the two of you list sideways, propelled back the way you came. He tries to drag his beam out the side, but you hold for dear life--slam your head into his, the front splintering and cracking--your hand at his throat vanishes into your buster as you channel energy through the destroyed weapon, another explosion shredding the armor from within and setting his shields alight. It burns. Keep going. It burns…


>WARNING: LIMB DAMAGE CRITICAL

You finally hit the ground after what feels like eternity, bouncing and stumbling a step, before you twist back and try to stake him to the ground with your saber--

>WARNING: CONTACT ENERGY

Only for his own to ignite again, punching through your damaged shoulder. Your arm falls dead, smoking through a hundred rents in the armor.

“Clever!”

>WARNING: CONTACT ENERGY

He slowly drags the beam down--you try to fall back, but he seizes you by the other wrist, grip a crushing vise, holding your saber down.

“Very, very clever.”

You try to twist out of the way, but he calmly, skillfully runs it down.

>WARNING: CONTACT ENERGY
>WARNING: CONTACT ENERGY

>WARNING: LIMB DISABLED

“You should be dead,” Imperious declares brightly, standing back up as he works. You try to dash--he twists your saber around painfully and hacks at the backs of your legs with your own weapon, dropping you to your knees.

“I want to find out,” he breathes, delight all over his blood-marred face, “precisely what you can endure.”

His blade keeps cutting, buckled armor sloughing off as the blade passes through your wrist and keeps going. No no no please no--

“Scream for me, Lieutenant Emerald,” Imperious whispers.

>WARNING: LIMB DESTROYED

You scream.

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>>2785578
-----

“Look,” Schwarz says.

You look.

The ace is fast on her feet, but there’s no way she can be faster. Back, and back, and back Ahuja goes, retreating under machine-gun blows from Dragoon.

He’s a highly-rated officer of the 14th, and you’ve seen him in action. You’ve even run his spar once or twice, and been flattened every time.

“She can’t win this,” Schwarz notes. “She’s going to.”

From the rafters, you have a perfect view down on the match. And he’s right.

“Size it up.”

“He uses his reach. He’s keeping up the pressure--because he has to. Inside, he’s going to go for…”

The beams get a few degrees hotter as his fist rises skyward in a burning uppercut, topping out just a few feet below.

Schwarz looks over, expectantly. You point. 13 meters away, up and to the left.

Ahuja lunges, stops short, levels her shotgun at his midsection and snap-fires. He banishes the plasma scatter from the air with an incinerating wave of fire. He drops an elbow for her head. She darts around and past. A knife snaking out and crisscrossing his thigh as she baits his response.

He charges forward, knee leading.

Her whole leg just reaches the back of his bent knee as he lands, her hand grabs his dipped shoulder, the other palm to the small of his back.

Dragoon hits the mat 13 meters away, up and to the left.

“You can learn a lot from her,” Schwarz notes approvingly.

“Already am,” you reply, watching enraptured as they bow and square off once more.

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>>2785581
-----

“Pay attention,” Rezador says.

You do.

Ahuja is a blur on the video feed, a storm that matches Javelit Whitestride for intensity. She moves with precision you once envied, flawless and masterful. Lightning flashes and the maverick’s signature javelin streaks past, the human ace firing back with an underslung grenade launcher.

“It was not enough.”

From the overhead drone footage, you have a perfect view of the postmortem. And he’s right.

“Use your experience. How does it end?”

“He’s too versatile. He doesn’t need to control the initiative, he can take time and damage to get her measure. It’ll be quick...”

The feed fuzzes with static as another blast of lightning goes off. The drone wobbles in place, before steadying.

“Futile. Impressive, but futile. Her approach relied too much on his.”

You see it. “Straight down. Pins and finishes.”

Ahuja games the range, snapping up her pistol and firing two shots, only to discard it and level her shotgun. She braces at the wrong time.

Javelit’s massive, clawed hand is on her throat as he slams her to the ground. Her head bounces, hard, and you don’t think the pop was static on the feed.

His javelin punches through her heart a moment later, just in case. Staked there, her body is racked with lethal electricity, muscles spasming once, and then release.

“She could have won that,” you mutter. You can see the wrong moves, each so small as to be insignificant, but taken together they left her out of step, and then it was over.

“She could have,” Rezador agrees, turning and leaving without ceremony. “But she did not.”

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>>2785584
-----

Make it stop.

Imperious walks over calmly, inspecting your finger in his hand. He tosses it away lightly, the humans behind him flinching away as it lands at their feet.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hL-X53ze5O0

Stop, stop…

“Get up, Lieutenant,” he says. Your legs… No, not again, you don’t want to…

>WARNING: CONTACT ENERGY

His blade punches through your collarbone and he slowly raises it--you have to move with it to keep it from carving up and out. Trembling, trying to focus, you try to stumble a half step forward, raising your saber, hard to hold without that finger--

He backhands you, your head hitting the wall as you slump against it. You turn back just in time to fill the world with plasma.

>WARNING: OPTIC DESTROYED

You scream as he stakes you to the wall with a bloody downard plunge of his saber, driving it through your eye and out the back of your head. Screaming and thrashing, he lets go, hands held open-fingered as he daintily steps back and admires his handiwork. Hand on the hilt, your blade clatters to the floor as you try to pull it free.

“Fortunate that stroke went down, not up, hm?” He asks, circling you and inspecting his handiwork. “Else I might have nicked something important.”

Stop, stop, please, stop… You scream again as he places two fingers on the end of the hilt and gently pushes it downward, the blade slicing up a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-aaaaa

>WRNIG: MOTRNURAL FNCTIONS CMPRMISD

“S-s-s-s-s…”

“Yes? Hmmm?” Imperious leans in, cupping his ear. “‘Stop? Would you like me to stop?’”

Struggling to focus, optic sliding in and out, you try to speak, and he simply pinches your jaw between finger and thumb.

“Nod. Nod, and I’ll stop.”

Blade still burning in the back of your head, you n-n-n--n-n-nnnnn-nn-nnnod.

Delighted, he lets go, clapping once and laughing. The blade cuts… and the hilt stays where he left it. You sag to the floor without it holding you aloft.

“This can end whenever you’d like, Lieutenant!” He calls over his shoulder.

>Fight. Gotta… fight.
>Stay down. Just stay down.

>>2785585
>Fight. Gotta… fight.
Use the EAS less as dash and more to stop the saber when he thinks we can't. Throw a saber in that moment, even if just the damn hilt smacks him in the face.

...I don't suppose the civilians would try their luck backstabbing him and getting killed in the process, which is what REALLY traumatizes Em?

>>2785585
>Fight. Gotta… fight.
He doesn't have a sword left, does he?

If not, then use what he gave you and traumatize the humans by what you do to him.

>>2785585
>Fight. Gotta… fight.
Do the murder with this shiny new sword we've been given thn lay on the floor dying for a few days until backup collects us.

>>2785585
>Fight. Gotta… fight.
He wants to see how much damage we can take? A lot more than he can, I bet.

>>2785585
>>Fight. Gotta… fight.
Interesting how Schwarz and Rezador have two different styles for the same subject. Feel like if Anode heard about her, he'd point out the good she had done rather than her fighting, though likely shit talk her taste in movies.

>>2785585
I fucking reiterate. Poor *fucking* Emerald.

>Fight. Gotta… fight.
Still, can't give up. Not like this.

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>>2785620
>>2785624
>>2785812
>>2786064
>>2786081
>>2786095
Get up.

GetupgetupGETUP.

You haul yourself back to your feet, head heavy, sight running down the length of the hilt lodged in your eye. Your optics--optic--swims as you stare down at your feet. You take a step and almost slip, rivulets of blood running down your legs, plip-plip-plipping from your numbed fingers and the tip of your nose.

It’s the little details of design I’m most proud of. Wider, shallow boots for a more stable plane. Better balance, better traction, better terrain negotiation. You see all these big powerhouses, but every inch of ‘em, every fan and grill and vent, it’s all supporting this big, delicate toy.

You stumble another step, trying to will your dead hand back to life, trying to pry the saber from your skull.

The Subprocessor takes a lot to support. Regular optic setup won’t work, no space for it. So we went with a paired optic. Two and two. Your head’s about the most complex part of you.

Your bloodied fingers slip from the grip. You try again, a jolt of electricity jumping through your body as something breached internally goes.

I’d be lying if I said he’s unbreakable, but it’s pretty close. It takes total system failure to knock something out--and there are a lot of redundancies baked in there. A lot.

Hand shaking, you grip the saber again. There’s only one way you’re getting it out.

-----

“Why do you bother?”

Rezador glances up at you sharply. “Specify.”

“I was just thinking about your sermon on feelings,” you reply. “If we’re all just glorified kill-bots, what makes you tick? What makes you... ‘care?’”

He’s quiet for a moment. “Why should an incredibly complex, powerful weapon feel?”

You shrug. “Why should anyone anything?”

“Tempers flare. Blind spots develop. Prejudices arise.”

“You’d know,” you mutter. He ignores you.

“Every single Reploid is more powerful than the greatest human. We have a responsibility to hold ourselves above base response. To resist addiction to sensation and emotion in our actions.”

“Yeah, we’re both so very good at that,” you remark bitterly.

“In what world is a walking fusion reactor that is deadlier than any living thing more safe?”

You snort. “‘Earth’ and ‘safe’ have never gone together.”

“And we make it worse, just by continuing to be.” Rezador’s eyes remain pinned on yours. “You know this. It is why you are the way you are.”

“So… what. No opinions, no life, just hunt and kill until we die?”

“If we are fortunate. The other option remains.”

That shuts you up.

“You appreciate the inherent danger in your continued existence. You plan for it, plan around it. You are my attempt to do the same.”

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>>2786188
You look up. He hasn’t moved, breathed, or blinked. He’s… he’s serious.

“You wish to surpass me, to be uncontested. I require a contingency in the event I turn. To give you the one will provide me the other.”

He turns back and draws his blades. Break’s over, you guess.

“To that end, we will be overcoming one of your vulnerabilities. Today you will be fighting blind.”

You register what he means a half-second before his saber streaks out, lashing across your eyes.

-----

You stagger another step forward. Imperious turns at the sound of the blade igniting. Your synthetic skin burns and melts and bubbles around the wound, until the frayed edges rip. With one last pull, you tear it free, raining components and gore from the wound. Unsteadily, you raise the weapon again, leveling the blade on him.

“Nnnot… not done yet.” You slur, an artificial buzz in your voice.

“Marvelous,” Imperious says, grinning wildly.

Your eye slides down to see the other saber back in his hand. No…

You can’t keep your focus. Your gaze shifts past, to the humans caged on the far wall. Even this far away, the details flood your ragged senses. The male is missing an ear. The scar suggests contact plasma. One of the children is missing a tooth. Probably the adult set starting to come in. None of them will look you in the eye. They’ve seen this all before.

Imperious steps forward again, and resumes his bloody work.

You’re going to die. You’re going to die, and there’s nothing you can do.

He stabs, and stabs, and stabs. He cuts, and cuts, and cuts. Each wound is deeper than the last, each trophy he carves from you bigger and more ghastly. Armor falls from you in flakes. Internal fluids and components sizzle and burn on contact with his blade. The stench reaches what’s left of your nose, acrid and foul.

You find… you’ve gone numb. Blows rain down, and your languid, sluggish parries are no match. He takes you apart at his leisure. He could have ended you in an instant. Instead… instead, this.

His saber pierces your chin again, and he drags you in closer, staring you in the eye. You stare back dully, hollow.

“Come now, over already? You were doing so well.”

You don’t reply. He shakes you, he slaps you, he digs the blade down, opening your throat in a long, narrow slit.

“Perhaps… no, you’re not done yet.”

Imperious pushes you away with the saber once again, holding you at arm’s length as he steps back one, two, three steps, bringing you with him like meat on a spit.

“Watch,” he says calmly.

You hear an ultrasonic hum.

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>>2786192
You hear six pops in a neat, overlapping chain, and hear one splash. Two and a half seconds of the sound of rain, wet and heavy.

Six headless bodies sink to the ground in their cage. The man’s missing ear is gone. The girl’s missing tooth is gone. Red mist stains their shirts and dresses and skirts and shoes. No. No, why...

“I just want to remind you,” Imperious says calmly, “that this is your fault.”

You monster.

“You breached the etiquette of our duel.”

You fucking monster.

“You should have abided by the rules, Lieutenant.”

You son of a bitch. You SON OF A BITCH!

Imperious laughs as you lash out, clipping him with the edge of the hibeam as he dances away. “That’s the spirit, Emerald! Avenge yourself! Avenge them! Make this right, Lieutenant!”

>

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>>2786197
>catch his saber on whatever is left of us intact enough to hold it.
>don't let go
>saber the shit out of everything we can reach.

>>2786197
>your dash might still work
>in which case tackle him
>prioritize making him stop moving over getting a quick kill
Let's see him make a fucking video now

>>2786366
I mean, if all else fails we probably killed his cameraman

>>2786197
Ah, well. When Web Spider mentioned "familiarity with hostage situations", I was hoping that meant they came out alive.

You know, sometimes it's fun to sit back and let someone else dole out the torture...

>>2787036
HC is almost as good at traumatizing his OCs as my buddy who plays in GuyWithTheParrot's game is.

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>>2787081

>>2786197
>>2786227
Still break these swords when we're done.

Man X4 as Zero is super hard.

>>2788041
Just more dependent on order. Personally found aiming for Storm Owl in the first three bosses was rather helpful to get the shot erasure, generally with Web Spider and Split Shroom early as well for mobility and an easily spammed stab.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F991RSOU00Y

B-rank Hunter at work.

>>2788041
Split mushroom is a joke with electrostab.
Web Spider tests your jump slash to the limits, though.
Magma dragoon is tough, but RISING FIRE DRAGON SLASH is pretty much the most damaging thing you've got in your arsenal.

Have fun killing your girlfriend!

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>>2786227
>>2786366
>>2787818
Legs work. Dash works. Arm still good.

You dash in after him, rage cutting through the haze. You blunder ahead, obvious.

He goes for the equally obvious riposte. You jerk your slender frame to the side, twisting around his stab. Your arm flops loosely along after--right into his waiting blade. You use your inertia to punch it straight through again, the smoke redoubling from dull ember.

You lash with your saber, trying to distract him as you dash not into, but past, once again snaking around to pin him between your skewered arm and your body. Raising your weapon, you come down with a wild hack.

He’s already a step ahead of you, but you’re not trying to cut him. His contented, sleepy-eyed expression slides off his face as you hack through the emitter of the saber in his hand.

>WARNING: CONT

Imperious slams the back of his helmet into your battered face, your own cracking and splintering as your head snaps back. You try to hold him, but he slides free, smashing you across the chin with the broken hilt of his saber, still burning like a brand. It sizzles across your cheek as you try to gain purchase, only for his knee to slam into your stomach and send you tumbling across the floor, saber tumbling from your remaining, bloodslick fingers.

He catches it and snaps it alight as you scramble up to your knees, looking around--there. One of your own sabers, forgotten where it fell. You dive as Imperious lunges again, turning into a pell-mell sprint for it, rage bleeding away into desperation. You collect it, ignite it, and turn, and he’s already on you.

>WARNING: CONTACT ENERGY
>WARNING: INTEGRITY CRITICAL

His blade punches through your torso and up and out through your broken shoulder, a gout of coolant parting around the beam in a fountain. It flashes into smoke and steam with a hiss, your blades flashing through the cloud blind.

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>>2789198
-----

Blind.

“Commander Imanga Valdivieso had a vision.”

Rezador’s voice comes from your left--so you juke right. The whip of a blade scant millimeters from your nose tells you that you made the right call this time.

“She saw the future, what it would hold--she saw death at the hands of machines.“

You check your retreat--you’re going to need every backstep you can get.

“Reploids of unfathomable power, unlike anything the world had ever seen. She was a visionary. She saw monsters.”

It’s… disturbing, how the fear has ebbed away. Without sight, without the Subprocessor screaming every move at you--the silence is almost motion in itself.

Your mind hasn’t been this quiet for weeks.

“So she made eight of her own.”

You raise your saber again, straining to hear. You almost miss the footfall of an advancing stab.

“Cormorant, the sadist, celebrating the work he does with cruelty.” Rezador’s blade only nicks your side--had you moved a moment later, it would have taken you through the spine.

“Euler immerses himself in strategy, the grand game, controlling every angle.” You crouch low, but too late, a sharp kick to the jaw sending you sprawling.

“Chevalski, always the optimist. The would-be best of us.” There--straight ahead. Staying low, you counterthrust expertly. You meet only a waiting grab, tossing you back across the room with the crack of a pommel against the back of your head.

“Rabbit, a consummate professional. Straightforward and proud.” You wheel the saber and deflect with a turning downward stroke, only for his fist to smash into your face.

“Tanuki, the misdirector, yet as close as we come to honorable.” Sabers clash and lock--three of them. You only just avoid the fourth, aiming to split open your middle.

“Drunk--well, you and your electric friend are familiar with his chosen solution.” You pitch backward, bowled over his sweeping leg.

“King loves notoriety, fame and infamy. He wants the world to know what he’s done.” You roll backwards as he leaps, his blades scoring through the floor, right inside your reach.

“And I? I teach.”

Blades streaking in swift, silent, and unseen, you spring forward and cut.

-----

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>>2789206
Blind.

Imperious is no longer smiling, pretty face contracted into snarling rage after you broke his toy. You stumble back, step after step, slipping on your guts and barely raising the blade to meet his, slash upon slash heaped upon you.

You’re really going to die.

The momentum has left you, and the initiative was never yours. You couldn’t protect those people--you can’t even protect yourself. It should have been you. It’s going to be you. You’re going to die.

Imperious steps forward, each footfall confident and purposeful. His blade sings as it sweeps through your vision, dazzling streaks through your one good eye.

>WARNING: CONTACT IMMINENT
>WARNING: FATAL DAMAGE IMMINENT
>WARNING: CONTACT IMMINENT
>WARNING: FATAL DAMAGE IMMINENT
>WARNING: CONTACT IMMINENT
>WARNING: FATAL DAMAGE IMMINENT
>WARNING: CONTACT IMMINENT
>WARNING: FATAL DAMAGE IMMINENT
>WARNING: CONTACT IMMINENT
>WARNING: FATAL DAMAGE IMMINENT

Again, and again, and again. Possible angles and vectors and approaches. Each falling sword stroke could be your last. Your feeble lobeam snaps back and forth as fast as you can will it, but it’s not enough. All he has to do is stop hurting you. All he has to do is decide. It’s just a wall of death.

Just an endless wall of death, with only a slender green beam of light standing between you.

His cape is scorched and his eyes are wide and his pupils small and his lips drawn back and his boots wet with blood and his left shoulder dips as he goes for your right--

His left shoulder dips as he goes for your right.

You sway. The killing blow glides past.

He favors his strength to manhandle and maneuver. He controls in a grapple.

Your arm goes down, instead of back up. His hand seizes on nothing.

He cuts at extremities first, attempting to incapacitate before a kill.

He reverses grip, to hamstring you.

You reverse grip.

Your saber falls through his plunging hand.

Imperious screams in shock and pain as you stake him to the floor, his saber clattering to the ground between you. He looks up at you, eyes wide--with surprise, with disbelief--as the endless wail of fatal incoming alerts ebbs away from the edges of your mind.

Silence reigns in Montenegro as you lift your guttering little blade from the back of his hand.

>”...Pick it up.”

>>2789253
>>”...Pick it up.”
Oh Imperious.. you have fucked up.

>>2789253
just kill him

>>2789253
>... Pick it up.

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>>2789253
It looks like we aren't really getting a choice in this.

>”...Pick it up.”

Although to be fair, Imperious totally deserves this.

>>2787081
=]

>>2789573
The lack of choice is a good narrative device in this instance.

No possible alternative in Em's mind.

>>2789676
Don't worry, I definitely agree with you there.

>>2789253
>”...Pick it up.”
Who knows what darkness lurks in the hearts of Reploids?

>>2789923
Craaaaaaaaawling iiiiiiiin my endoooooooo

These shields they willll not chaaaaaaaarge

Feaaaaar is hoooow I dewdewdewdew