Armored Core:

Apocalypse Rising

V

"Heh, another satisfied suck-customer..." David said as he looked at the income roll in on his monitors. Once again, he'd sold Oracle designs and UNAC data, 5,000,000 a piece.

"Who knew selling simple data and designs could make so much money in so little time? Heh, its a piece of cake!"

Laughing, David ran a hand over his buzz cutted black hair and smirked.

After a moment, a tall figure could be seen entering into David's little hold out located in a section of what was known as Kansas, US, before 'everything went to shit' as David so loosely called it.

The figure stood in a long, brown trench-coat with a brown leather Stetson. The Stetson in question had a single metal chain that was attached to its brim with a metal-esque wolf head, akin to a keychain. Under the hat, a young man gave a dark grin before walking in.

As David poured himself a drink of water, he turned around and stared towards the one who had entered and glared. As he placed the cup on a nearby side stand, he cracked his knuckles and his neck. Even at 34, he was still good in a fight. Granted, his white muscle shirt and combat pants did make things easier, along with his combat boots, many still figured that he couldn't even do a simple punch without straining...how wrong they were.

The man stopped and tilted his head at David, almost as if in question of his actions before smirking.

"So...you're David Bosch...Also known as 'Exodus', correct?..." The figure asked. As he spoke, he removed his stetson to reveal a young man with dirty blonde hair, kept short to just below his ears. His blue eyes seemed soft, yet also held a hint of cold and uncaring in looks.

As he smiled rather evilly, David snarled before moving closer.

"Who the hell are you?! And why are you here?!" He demanded. David was visibly rather worried now, as not only did this guy know of his name, but his location and his old merc nickname. A nickname he'd abandoned nearly a decade and a half ago.

Chuckling, the figure smirked before shaking his head.

"I'm someone who'd like to make you an offer, Mr. Exodus...you join me and my crew...and I won't leave you to die at the hands of over 40 different merc groups that are...well...kind of pissed at you for stealing their designs, plans and UNAC programmes.." He said with a simple smile.

"David visually nearly choked on his own air. 'Th-there is no way that he's told them, is there?...' He thought before he grabbed a hold of the figure and snarled again.

"WHO. THE. FUCK. ARE. YOU!?" He demanded.

The figure shrugged before he clicked his fingers and an Armored Core, AC, ripped the roof off his little shack and stared at the two, a voice coming over the figures communicator.

'Heh, told ya I should have handled negotiations, Anubis.' Came a harsh voice that sounded almost excited.

Shaking his head and chuckling, Anubis released himself of David's hold on him and dusted himself off.

"My name, is Anubis of the Apocalypse Wolves...and we'd like you're help as chief engineer and historian." He spoke with another smile, only this one being sincere.

At first, David was too afraid to even talk as he stared at the mech in front of him before looking over to Anubis to hear him say his name and is 'offer'.

Sighing, David looked up to the sky towards the sun and sighed once more.

"I don't have a choice do I?..." He said before grabbing his glass of water and taking a swig.

"Ah, shit..."

- 8 Months Later -

Anubis hummed a soft tune as he walked into the rec room of their Base Of Operations, Pantheon, named after the Temple to the Ancient Roman Gods.

As he sat down in his comfy leather chair, he sighed as he stared at the few files that laid open on his monitor screens.

After about an hour of browsing, a loud crash could be heard along with Exodus' yelling and the growling and arguing of another.

Anubis simply smiled before shaking his head.

Meanwhile, in the AC Maintenance Shaft, Exodus, David, was throwing tools at a fleeing, brown haired young man who was avoiding each tool thrown at him.

"I told you not to mess with my computer, you crazy, psychotic, nutjob, buffoon, mother fuckin', asshole, bastard!" Exodus yelled as he threw a variety of items, such as wrenches, blow torches, spanners, hammers, screwdrivers, plasma-drives etc.

The young man in question, Fenrir, dodged each thrown item with amazing finese. Of course, he was still worried about being hit.

"Fuck you, old man! All I wanted was to check some fuckin' stuff on there!"

"Like hell! You wanted to play with that godamned ancient ol' 'Solitaire' game that's on the system, you little shit!"

Exodus yelled back before walking away, muttering something about 'young people and their games.'