Aight. Fun’s over.
I toss the alien gun, hear it clatter against the stone. I’m done with that. Now? Now, I wanna feel this armor for real.
Something stares at me. A Navorian. Tall, ugly, built wrong. Four long swords, like it was born with ‘em.
I roll my shoulders. Yeah. I know what I wanna try next. The last ability. The one I been waiting for.
Berserk mode.
I charge forward.
The armor responds. Heat builds, white-hot, burning through my core, my veins. Lights up, bright, humming. Then—
Boom.
The ground splits.
I move—faster than thought, stronger than I ever been. The world snaps by in flashes.
One step—six Navorians in my way.
One blink—two gone, bodies crumpling, bones snapping.
The rest? Staring. Flinching. They ain’t built for this kinda speed.
But now they mad.
They come at me. All of ‘em.
My juice runs out.
Just like that.
The glow sputters. The power drains. My limbs go heavy, like I’m sinking in wet cement.
Oh.
I’m dead.
A blade swings for my throat. I flinch—
But I don’t die.
Because they drop in.
Our soldiers.
The same armor. Moving like I did. Fast, strong, more than the Navorians can keep up.
Somebody taps my back. Romeo.
He smirks. “Well done, soldier. I should have recruited you when I had the chance.”
I take it in. Yeah. Feels good. But also don’t, ‘cause I know I was supposed to be dead.
Then—
The sound of gunfire, the yelling, the clatter of bodies—it all dims.
My eyes shift.
Beyond the soldiers.
Beyond the ones posted up and shooting.
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The gate creaks open.
They come.
A horde.
The same ones. The ones that killed my squad.
And at the center?
Eight blades.
It stands there.
Watching.
Like we just ruined its whole day.
Then—
It moves.
No. It disappears.
Not armor. Not tech. That’s just raw. Pure speed.
A soldier screams. By the time I look, he already gone. Just a splash of blood where he stood.
Then another.
Then another.
We have to fight. No stopping. Romeo yells orders. I move.
I grab an Argov rifle. It clicks, syncs with my armor—oh. So that’s what it do.
I aim.
The gun hums.
My suit hums with it.
I fire.
A laser rips the air, slices through Navorians like they made of paper.
Then pain.
Deep and cold.
I stagger.
A spear.
My shoulder.
Inside me.
I grab at it.
Damn.
I was feeling good. Thinking we had this.
But now, I really look around.
We never did.
They’re not tired, these ones. They’re ready. And we're not.
They charge.
The blade dancer—eight swords—weaving, closing in.
Straight for Romeo.
He don’t know. He’s too busy commanding.
I have to tell him.
I claw at the shaft—pull it loose, blood trailing behind.
“Romeo, watch out!”
He turns.
The blades flyin’ at him.
Romeo bends.
But the blade dancer? He fast.
Romeo swings. Misses.
His silhouette wavers.
Then he drops.
No legs holding him up no more.
Before he hits the ground, his eyes meet mine.
And I swear—
He smiled.
Slam. His body jerks. He gasps, sharp, ragged. Blood spills in rivers.
I grip my gun tighter.
I aim. I shoot.
Bam.
Two of its limbs—gone. It don’t even care.
It just keeps going.
The swords stab deep. Romeo chokes.
No.
I throw rifle onto the ground.
It'll pay.
I'll make it.
I burn the last of my suit’s energy.
I dash.
It sees me coming. Thinks I’m reckless.
It’s wrong.
I clap my hands together, release everything at once.
BOOM!
The force slams it into the ground, crushing it.
Me?
I’m flung sky-high.
I hit the ceiling.
Then, I fall.
Somebody catches me.
They put me down.
Then they charge back in.
A second later—
Their head rolls past me.
No.
We’re losing.
I try to stand.
Legs don’t work. Arms don’t work. Nothing works.
The suit’s dead. And maybe I am, too.
And then—
A voice.
Loud. Unshaken. Cutting through the screams.
Klaus.
The bastard came.
He fire.
Bullets, lasers, tearing through.
The soldiers rally.
The Navorians fall.
Then silence.
I blink.
Only six of us left standing.
Hundreds came in.
Hundreds died.
This ain’t war.
This a massacre.
If you had Vortex’s armor, what’s the first thing you’d do?
