Lady of the Shire's
King of Pain
DISCLAMER: MegaMan NT Warrior and all related entities are the property of ShoPro, Viz Media, Ryo Takamisaki, and related partners.
Author's Notes: This is just an update to an older one-shot….
"You won't go any farther than here," cried out a voice from behind me.
I turned around, hoping that I had at least placed some distance between myself and the enemy.
"Target locked," announced the sniper.
I spun back around, trying to pinpoint the origin of the voice. But I saw nothing but the training ground: a cyan landscape layered with a white grid and seasoned with large cyan cylindrical pillars at regular intervals, mirroring the almost realistic blue expanse above splashed with blotchy patches to signify clouds. I was in a frantic daze. Armed with no strategy whatsoever, I prayed to whatever greater power that was listening to bestow some good fortune upon me. All this time and I still couldn't process the most basic axioms of combat, even after all the perils I endured up to this point. Probably explains why Lan and I were forced to attend all those stupid training seminars. Bored out of my mind for hours on end, I listened to monotone voices drone on about obsolete theories and case studies. It was just like summer school, the original nightmare straight out of Hell. During those grueling eight hours of monotony, I had wished that some monstrosity would erupt out of the ground and engulf me, putting me out of my misery. Given my current predicament, I bitterly reminisced that thought for another moment. "Guess I got my wish." Yet, I was still infuriated. It all felt like such a waste! What were all those exercises for when they weren't even applicable in an actual scenario like this one?! Heck, I should be teaching those courses, given my plethora of unpleasant experiences. I would probably give much more fruitful advice! 'Always be conscious of your surroundings?' When?! Before or after I am blown to Kingdom Come!? But, I distinctly remembered one topic. Heck, it might be the only piece of useful information I extracted from all of those tiresome NetSavior seminars: "Do you know your enemy?"
What kind of stupid question is that?! Of course I know my enemy. He's a hyperopic puritan with an agitated trigger finger for crying out lou—
BOOM!
An explosion roared towards me as I instinctively dashed to the left at the last moment. Fragments of broken ground pelted against my face and I nearly choked on the overwhelming stench of the burning flotsam. If I was just a split second slower I would have been blown to smithereens. "Why is he using real artillery!?" I summersaulted to evade the next attack, catching a waft of singed hair as the extreme heat caressed my back. I darted behind a pillar and a hand instinctively flew to the back of my head to appease any smoldering follicles. Rocking to and fro on the balls of my feet, I knew I couldn't stay in one place for too long. I needed to locate where the attacks were coming from. But, it didn't matter how hard I tried to locate SearchMan. My attacks wouldn't have even reached over such a long range. Which reminds me….
"WHY DID I AGREE NOT TO USE ANY WEAPONS?!" I screamed towards the heavens. I stomped my left foot in frustration.
BOOM!
BOOM!
BOOM!
Three more explosions. More powerful than the previous ones. Pellets of the shattered pillar rained upon me as I flew to the next refuge.
"Idiot. Keep your voice down. Might as well paint a target on your back while you're at it." I shook my head in disappointment. "So, he's getting serious now." That will prove to be a problem for me, especially since I had such limited means of defending myself. I wonder if he got some sort of perverse satisfaction from spying on me from some hidden recess while I scurried around like a rodent in a mine-ridden maze. If I didn't know any better, I would think that he only suggested this training exercise as a means of entertaining himself….
Serendipitously, I sensed the Devil behind me.
"Right in my line of sight!" he cried.
BOOM!
An even more earthshattering eruption came just a moment too early for me to dodge. Within seconds, I unceremoniously flew almost halfway across the training field and (to my embarrassment) squealed with the likes of a frightened elementary schoolgirl with my limbs flailing about me in a mad furor. To make matters worse, I found my vision entirely obscured by a thick, putrid black miasma. Must have been from the last explosion. Tears came to my eyes as I squeezed them shut, shielding them from the caustic smoke.
But of course, it always helps to keep one's eyes open….
After my humiliating reunion with solid ground, I stumbled to my feet as quickly as possible. I squinted through the inky mist and stretched my hands out in front of me in a feeble attempt to register anything nearby. The substance felt frigid but light, leaving no residue as it swathed my outstretched fingers prying for some sort of salvation. As the moments passed, I noticed that the miasma had begun to sink towards the floor, blanketing the training grounds. But, visibility was still poor. I resorted to flailing my arms about as a means of accelerating the dissipation. One huge sweep of my arm slashed through the wispy substance as I came to a screeching halt.
I was staring down the barrel of a high-powered homing weapon.
Not my best move.
I should have fallen to my knees at that point, thrown my arms in the air, and begged for mercy. Let out a cry of submission. Grovel at his feet.
But I was too stupid.
My last act of defiance: I folded my arms and glared at the buster's wielder. In response, he narrowed his eyes, preparing to fire. Meanwhile, my conscious berated me. "God! What is wrong with you? Run!" But, I countered my inner thoughts by rationalizing that I expected him to at least say something first. "What does that matter?! He can shoot you at any moment! Why are you just standing here!?" I don't know who I was more irritated with at that point: my brusque rational or the soldier that was about to shoot me at point-blank range. I tapped my foot with frustration, unfolded my arms, and stood akimbo. Fortunately, that gesture finally irked his curiosity.
SearchMan slightly lowered his weapon. "What?"
"You think you are so superior, don't you!?" I spat at him.
But, he just stared blankly at me. "What are you talking about?"
What is wrong with him!? Is he that oblivious!? "You know exactly what I am talking about you freaking idiot!"
He scowled. Obviously, I hit a nerve. "What the Hell has gotten into you?!"
"Please, explain to me what part of this entire ordeal is even reminiscent of this concept you refer to as 'training'?" I punctuated my statement with air quotes. "I can't attack or defend myself because of the factor of distance, you leave me no room for escape, and I can't even—"
"Do you want to learn how to survive a realistic scenario or just prance about like a damned moron!?" He snapped while fully retracting his weapon. "You were the one griping about how sitting through three hours of that last session was an absolute nightmare! 'I could learn 100 times as many things in the field than in that dumb classroom' were your exact words, if I am not mistaken." Said hand then gestured into the middle distance. "You think anyone out there is going to give you the opportunity to flee or even counterattack?" Afterwards, the sniper threw his hands up in frustration. "I can't believe I am even having this conversation with you of all people."
"But this isn't a life-or-death scenario! It is just supposed to be a training exercise!" I countered.
"Which prepares you for a life-or-death scenario!" The sniper scoffed. "You're acting like the player who gets benched the entire season, pleading for a chance to go up to bat, and when you finally get the opportunity you complain that the pitcher is throwing too many curveballs at—"
"This isn't freaking baseball, SearchMan!"
He rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Regardless, this doesn't change anything." A menacing pointer finger loomed over my head. "And I am not going easy on you just because this is 'simulated combat'."
I twitched.
That is so like him.
"Hey, MegaMan! Not that you would agree to this in a billion years, but I wanted to use you for targeting practice!" is what I actually processed his last statement as. And I didn't buy one word of this pathetic 'realistic' excuse he conjured. I swatted his finger away. "Please! Right now you're nothing more than a five-year old at Christmastime who just found a bow and suction-tipped arrows underneath the tree and has no one to play William Tell with. Was I supposed to supply the stupid apple?!"
His eyes narrowed and I quickly regretted my loquacious remark when I saw the weapon reappear. Then the beast reared itself on is hind legs. Foreboding rows of ivory jutted out of its gargantuan jaws. And with a gruesome growl reminiscent of thunder, it beckoned.
"Well then, I suggest you start running."
The rules of engagement had changed.
Close-range combat was my only option at this point.
So I lunged forward, surprisingly catching him off-guard if only for a few seconds. But that was all the time I needed. I slipped around the barrel of his homing buster and torqued by midsection in preparation for a powerful kick to his head. But before my strike connected SearchMan's free hand lashed out at my ankle, planting it in a firm vice grip. I lost my balance fell on my back with a heavy thud. Instinctively, I attempted to counter with a low roundhouse kick at his knees instead. But, the sniper had already retracted his buster, intercepting my kick. I was in a rather uncomfortable predicament, flat on my back flailing like a beached salmon in the grasp of a grizzly bear's giant paws. So I continued to plan C. With my hands planted firmly on the ground (and slightly embedded into the gridded surface) I make a final last-ditched effort to retaliate against SearchMan's attempts to drag me to my demise. Fortunately, his grip had loosened. Perhaps it is due to my resistance during our mad game of tug-of-war, with me portraying the role of the rope and the opposing team simultaneously! Nonetheless, I took advantage of my opportunity and launched one foot straight into his lower jaw. His head snapped back, as if it was based on a springboard, forcing him to momentarily loosen his grip about my other foot. Triumphantly, I pivoted on my hands I completed a successful backflip. After, two iterations, I planted my feet firmly on the ground and charged forward, fists raised. I was actually impressed. Despite the force of my kick, the Commander was still standing. He was staggering a bit but prepared for my frontal assault.
One! Two! Left! Right! Strike! I haven't fought like this in ages! Things had been unusually quiet lately. And since the start of summer vacation, nothing had changed. I guess even villains needed to go on holiday, leaving NetSaviors without work. But my thrill was short-lived. Much to my chagrin, SearchMan dodged all of my strikes…and wasn't afraid to broadcast his success. Just look at that smirk smeared across his face!
Suspicious, I leapt back to a comfortable distance. "What the heck are you so smug about?" I jibed, fists still raised in a defensive boxing stance.
"You finally figured it out." He stood erect with his arms folded.
I slightly lowered my fists. "Figured out what?!"
He sighed. "What this entire training session was about. Like I said, the enemy isn't going to give you an opportunity to fight. Hence you have to make one. You should know that!" He jabbed a finger at me. "And a powerful arsenal of Chips isn't a guarantee for victory, which is why I didn't allow you to use weapons. Strategy!" The soldier taped lightly at his helmet. "The power of ingenuity."
My shoulders deflated. "Great. So there was a lesson to be learned," I grumbled to myself with an eye roll.
"Unfortunately, you realized this too late."
His change in tone caught me off guard. My eyes snapped back in his direction. He was gone. I twisted to my left and right. I spun around. He had completely vanished. Dread began to take hold of me. This entire ordeal was about to resume at full force. Livid yet also paranoid, I took a defensive stance, crouched low to the ground as I prepared for any downpours of artillery. That is when I finally noticed that infuriating smokescreen from earlier had almost completely dissipated. The once opaque sea was nothing more than wisps of smoke that lingered about my knees. But the dissolving blanket revealed a more dire turn of events: as far as the eye could see, small blue spheres were scattered across the landscape.
They looked strangely familiar…
"My only regret is that I didn't try this sooner," the sniper's voice echoed from some undisclosed location. "This training session is going to be over before I actually had an opportunity to…."
Suddenly, I had a thundering epiphany. My features immediately switched from confusion to horror as I frantically scoured the ground for a safe place for my footing. It had taken me a moment to get a closer look at the objects. There wasn't that much to note aside from the navy blue stripe that wrapped around each sphere. Minibombs. Individually, they possessed a significant amount of explosive power. I couldn't imagine the amount of destruction that would commence with a chain reaction. That was when I realized the snare I had walked right into.
'A mine-ridden maze' was how I had described this scenario. The was doomed the moment I walked onto this field. I was never the ruler of my fate.
"Yeah, that is right."
The last thing I remembered was the rightful king's voice. His jaded tone resonated through the expanse of the training hall. "I must apologize, MegaMan."
I remained rooted in place. Silent. Shoulders hunched forward in defeat as I realized that this was going to be a very long day...
"To be honest, I really just…wanted someone to play 'William Tell' with."
King of Pain
END