Hero: Dawnbringer
Passive Ability: Until Dawn
When not being able to see attack animations of enemy players, damage is treated at half it's real value.
Weapon - Magnetic NanaThorned Halberd
Ability: Cloak
Dawnbringer opens a defensive barrier on himself. It's how he survived plowing through steel on a regular basis.
Ability: Degrade
Dawnbringer's wear and tear catches up with him. Damage is further ignored. However, when the charge ends, Dawnbringer sustains massive damage on himself.
Ultimate - Defiance
Dawnbringer falls, yet strives forwards. Dawn destroys his First weapon in a massive explosion, and pulls out a slightly weaker but far more reliable version, with a higher firing rate and melee attack speed, but weaker damage input. DPS is increased.
The ship rocked forwards.
The newbloods beside me would not last the hour. I knew this, for I had seen it many times.
Though they must know they marched to their deaths, the atmosphere was cheery. I liked to think they knew their fates, because it hurt to think that they hoped to live.
"So, any last minute advice Dawnbringer?"
The one known as Sunset. They took inspiration from me. Odd, to think that my actions brought them here. That I was responsible for their choice.
I wanted to tell them that they should make peace. That they should accept the inevitable outcome of this battle. To take comfort in the fact that they would be known as heroes.
Yet, I didn't.
Even now, I did not want to crush their hope.
Weak of me, I know.
"No. This is the moment your training has prepared you for. I can say nothing that you have not heard."
...like what happened to their predecessors.
"May fortune smile upon you all."
Similar sentiments were shared amongst themselves.
"Don't die on us out there Dawn. Got it?"
Oh, Sunset.
I wouldn't die.
Sunset was the first to fall.
I ignored their death. Mourn later, fight now.
My lance bit into heated steel, and pierced, ramming through the monstrosities chassis like butter. My cloak activated, shielding me from the effects of plowing through solid substances.
It was a familiar foe.
One that would not fall,
Neither I.
I exited into one of it's many self repair centers. Humanoid omnics, bastion's, training bots, artillery, geth units…
Their type was irrevlant. All would die.
I ducked under a metal slug, and threw my weapon forwards, shearing through a bastion unit like butter.
After fighting omnics the entirety of my time as a teenager, this 'fight' was hardly worth describing. Like many times before, it ended with molten metal, bullets in my clothes, and a superheated magnetic lance.
I put a force projectile into the last thing's chest. Disgusting excuses of life.
Something broke, and a gear that might as well have been an errant chakram nearly took my head from my shoulders. Annoying.
What was more annoying was my lost momentum. Seem's like good ol' Monster trapped me in here, and...yup, heating the room up like a pressure cooker.
Please.
The monster's chest exploded.
Did Dawnbringer?
"I am alive. As per norm."
Dare she ask the status of-?
"As per the norm. Though they helped more than ever before. A couple more years, and maybe more soldiers than me will come home,"
Cut the sarcasm. Mission report?
"All dead. Lesser omnium core destroyed. Sacred Gear cultist found to aid the Monster. Traps and failsafes are much more advanced. Loose biological matter has been found, to what ends I do not know. Shield technology matches that of the Crusader's. Signs of lesser monster being created, creation destroyed via torpedo strikes."
Are the bomb shell's done? Elaborations?
"I am a blunt force weapon, not a scientist. You want detail's, I have salvage."
...alright then. Get back, the job's done.
"Acknowledged."
Every year was the same.
The Monster attacked. New Lancer unit's were trained to be shot at the Monster like cannon fodder. All of them would die, and he would be asked to train another group. He would refuse, the government would do it anyways, and he would be under moral obligation to at least give them a fighting chance. Same old story.
Beyond the fight, patterns remained similar. Hana Song would bolster moral. The musician Lucio would come through, doing much the same, pleasuring the populace with music. Their was the occasional statement from Sir Winston as well, that the Monster was weaker every year, that soon it would fall, and stay down.
He? He would go home, and sit down. He would calm his body with medicine, the urgings of his family not to smoke long ignored. He would stay like this for a very long time, and, much time after, be asked to show his face, to play the role of Hero.
Sometimes, he was injured. His body started to break down, flesh rotting, metal snapping. Hundreds of thousands of dollars would be used to repair him, make his body better, cut away more and more of his humanity. He would be advertised as a symbol of humanity's defiance against omnic's. The shining light that told the world that it's children would not fall, no matter the battle, no matter the loss, no matter the enemy.
He would smile. Speak of his experiences. Inspire a thousand young souls to imitate him.
"The world could always use more heroes."
Yet for every Spanner, who imprisoned the Junk men. For every Twilight, who rooted out villainy wherever it may roam. Every Game Theory, who held back the tide in Russia...
There were thousands of Sunsets. Dying doing nothing to aid the world.
There was a knock on his door. Was it already time?
He rose, and walked to open the door, the scent of medicine clinging to his clothes.
He opened the door, yet the person who greeted him was no P.R agent. That in itself was troubling.
Neither was it his only friend, for he knew Hana was probably splurging on MMO's, or destroying single player games two at a time.
Her own way of coping. Much more unhealthy than his, but whatever helps.
No one else should want to see him except for rabid fan's. It was possible that this person was one, though he would be surprised.
"Hello, Lena Oxton, pleasure to meet you!"
She stuck her hand out.
Oh dear.