Armoured Core 4: Silent Prophet

Chapter 1 – Destination Unknown

[FIRST STRIKE]


He never liked the journeys on the way to an assignment. They gave him too much time to think; too much time to speculate, and far too much time to ponder how things could go horribly wrong.

[GA wants us to eliminate the armed groups occupying Gryphon, The Independent City.]

The Independent City. Last he had heard of it Gryphon was a sprawling metropolis, one of - if not - the last settlements on the planet that still resembled the Old World. At least it was, before said armed groups moved in.

[Gryphon was abandoned after losing its central infrastructure to large-scale terrorist attacks. These groups just let themselves in and set up shop.]

He had very nearly decided to work for the Gryphon City Police, before ultimately choosing Anatolia. The city was nice, but he had spent far too long travelling through broken cities drenched in blood and the dead.

[This mission is a little show for the Pax, and as our NEXT, you're our star. There shouldn't been anything too challenging on this mission. GA's reports only mention attack helicopters, tanks, a few MTs, and a couple of Normals.]

Of course they'd give Anatolia such a cakewalk of a mission. It wasn't worth the effort to send one of their own LYNX, and he wouldn't put it past the Corporations to literally throw them the table scraps.

But money was money, and an independent mercenary couldn't exactly be picky when it came to jobs.

[GA - the largest Company of the lot, are especially eager to see Gryphon rebuilt. We won't get another chance like this to impress them.]

Getting a proper foothold in the Western Pacific seemed like the "GA thing" to do.

[There is…one stipulation, however.]

The sound of metal striking metal echoed as Silent Prophet's head leant back. There was always a catch now, wasn't there?

[GA's request is that you refrain from using your Primal Armour; they want to avoid Kojima contamination in Gryphon as much as possible. No point in saving the city if no one can use it after all.]

He groaned. This was great, just…great. Perhaps GA was trying to get him killed after all. A sigh escaped him - even if he had to fight off the bubble of macabre amusement that formed when Silent Prophet slumped along with him.

[The stage is set. The rest is up to you; good luck.]

The entire floor lurched, metal bulkheads groaning as the floor beneath Silent Prophet parted; the NEXT held up only by clamps and restraints. Gale force winds tore at the opening, deafening him for a split second before the NEXT muted them.

A thought later and the restraints released, sending the NEXT into a freefall directly towards their target.

"This is Val Branwen and Silent Prophet, entering mission area."


Gryphon's city skyline swam into view through the clouds; great skyscrapers of concrete and glass were visible as far as the eye could see. If he were honest, The Independent City was actually in pretty good condition, considering it had endured an end of the world.

Silent Prophet's boosters blazed to life, slowing their descent as he scanned the landscape for a safe place to put down. Radar pings were picking up a couple dozen contacts to the north. Nothing particularly large, so probably the tanks and the MTs. The asphalt cracked as Silent Prophet landed, creating fissures in the centre of the crossroads he had landed in.

The quick boosters flickered to life, throwing the NEXT behind the building to his left. No Primal Armour meant that all he had was Silent Prophet's armour integrity to keep him alive, and he was adamant to keep that as stable as possible. His gaze flicked about, Silent Prophet's optics scanning everything in sight. Satisfied that enemy Normals hadn't yet barrelled towards either him or his reinforcements; he willed the boosters to life and turned left.

"Fiona, can you keep an eye on the radar?" The radar display often took up a not insignificant amount of space in his limited view, and although it could be willed away with half a thought a second pair of eyes never hurt. "Going to try and flank, and I don't want to get blindsided."

[Sure.] She sounded…troubled? [I've been trying to crack into their communications; give us a bit of an edge. It's giving me a bit of trouble, but I'm nearly there.]

That was…that was a brilliant idea.

[O-oh, thanks.]

He said that out loud? Oh well, still didn't make it any less true.

{-arthog Two-Two; you catch where the NEXT went?}

Payday.

{Negative. The thing moved too fast; it's a Rayleonard though, so keep your heads on a swivel and your eyes on road level.}

The chatter went back and forth between the targets, and he listened carefully for anything telling: Warthogs for tanks, Buzzards for Helicopters, Ostriches for MTs, and Golems for Normals. The chatter itself was clear; professional even. Whoever the group were, they were surprisingly militaristic.

[We shouldn't rely on it though; cracking into an armed group and cracking into a Corporation are two entirely separate things.]

Oh well.

Still, it wasn't going to help them. He rounded a corner with a quick boost, HITMAN raised and awaiting a lock-on and firing solution.

{There! Six o'clock! To the east to th-}

-Beep-

A burst of machinegun fire tore through the MT, toppling the machine over before it detonated in a small explosion. The quick booster engaged once more, and he set about circling the group. The tanks were absolutely no trouble whatsoever.

{We've lost Warthog Platoon! He's taken them all out!}

The smallest of bullets for NEXT weaponry were the size of a human torso; the tanks didn't as much as blow up as they did disintegrate.

{Ostrich-Three is down!}

The MTs didn't fare much better.

[I've detected forces to the north. The Helicopters are on the other side of these skyscrapers.] Silent Prophet nodded and he replied with an affirmative, [The Normals should be on the other end of a large suspension bridge.]

The HITMAN lowered in preparation for a self-reload as another two MTs rounded a corner. Silent Prophet dashed forward, DRAGONSLAYER flash-snapping into life with an unholy buzzing and cutting down the first of the two MTs; the second fell when the machinegun returned to firing position. The Laser Blade fizzled out of existence, and he commanded Silent Prophet down the bridge.

[Enemy Normals sighted - wait!]

He didn't wait - in fact he did the opposite.

[E-enemy reinforcements? I'm counting six - no seven enemy Normals total!]

He all but threw Silent Prophet off the bridge, avoiding the opening barrage from seven - no doubt - very angry GOPPERT-G3 Normals.

{All Buzzards: Open Fire!}

The pattering of rounds connecting with his NEXT rattled through him. Quantity did beat quality eventually: A single 043AF20 helicopter might only possess two standard machineguns, but there were two dozen of them. Not to mention the Normals. The 'small' arms he could shrug off, rounds from Normal scaled weapons without Primal Armour was another thing entirely.

[Concentrate on the Normals. They're the mission priority.]

He huffed; easier said than done. Fiona was right though, everything apart from the Normals were irrelevant. A Quick Boost Chain was the only way he was getting close enough to strike them with the DRAGONSLAYER. GOPPERTs were pretty heavily armoured and shield wielding to boot, Machinegun fire would take too long to destroy them before they did the same to him.

Half of them clustering together were also a boon. Made them the perfect target for the Grenade Cannon he had put himself in debt to obtain.

{What the hell?! How fast is this thing?!}

The Laser Blade sliced clean through the Normal with barely any resistance, and a Quick Boost pushed Silent Prophet far out of range of the ensuing explosion. He grinned; the smoke and debris may have blocked his line of sight, but he was still locked onto one of the clustered Normals.

"…boom."

The soft 'thwump' of the OGOTO firing was lost amongst the racket of machineguns firing and missiles striking the earth where Silent Prophet stood. The detonation - however - was not; one Normal simply ceased to exist, a second fell to the ground in a shower of twisted metal and mechanical fluids, the third staggered out, walking backwards all of two steps before collapsing out of sheer damage and shrapnel lodged into the machine.

He winced. That wasn't a good way to go.

[Three enemy Normals left. Just a little more now!]

{Damnit! Focus fire! FOCUS FIRE!}

The helicopters hovered overhead, and he had to throw his NEXT behind another skyscraper to avoid the barrage of missiles.

[Look out!]

The warning came a second too late; one of the Normals hadn't been as idle during the chaos as he thought, drifting around the corner opposite him and firing its rifle. Silent Prophet shuddered as the round impacted its frame. His jaw clenched; the pain that shot through him was both artificial and severely muted, but it was still served its purpose of borderline telling him not to get hit. The DRAGONSLAYER snapped to life and a second later he lunged, slicing through the Normal. A second GOPPERT rounded the corner behind the wreckage of the first, directly into the path of the now raised HITMAN, and fell to a sustained burst of fire.

[One remaining Normal. This is the last of them.]

He glanced around, catching sight of the final Normal as boosted out of sight. Boosters flared to life, and he gave chase.

{Retreat! Full Retreat! Everyone get out of here!}

Gunfire blocked his advance; the Normal foregoing accuracy for volume of fire. Helicopters scattered in various directions as he advanced and whenever he made to turn the Normal attempted to cage him in, with the only directions available were either upwards or directly towards it.

Sacrificing themselves to save their allies; how noble. The very least he could do was grant the Raven a quick death.

Silent Prophet lunged forwards, spearing the Normal straight through the torso.

[All enemy Normals destroyed. The remaining forces are in full retreat. Mission accomplished.]

So that…that was it; his first mission as a LYNX. Almost idly, he looked around. Gryphon was mostly untouched, and any major damage could easily be repaired by the Corporations. Even the wreckage of the tanks and MTs and Normals could be brushed away without a thought.

[You okay?]

"Just…" He sighed, wishing he could pinch the bridge of his nose, or something. Adrenaline was wearing off and it was leaving him with a far larger sense of fatigue that was far worse than Normal piloting. "…just a headache. I'll be leaving Gryphon from the south; signal the Stork for pickup."

[Understood; Extraction is on its way. Come home.]

He panned his gaze around Gryphon once more, and made to put The Independent City behind him.

Coming home sounded like a perfect idea.


Anatolia was sprawled out before him, the small colony completely alive and celebrating the first success of their LYNX. He hadn't done much - the celebrating that is; apart from a single drink we was more preoccupied with winding down, content with pressing a damp cloth against his face.

Fiona was stood next to where he was sat, relaying information that he absorbed without really listening.

"You did brilliantly; Emil is ecstatic."

That was a picture he couldn't imagine for the life of him. 'Governor Emil' and 'Ecstatic' went with each other as well as oil and water did.

"I'm sure he'll do his part."

He pressed the cold compress against the forehead. Damn headache just wasn't going away. Piloting Silent Prophet around Anatolia for a couple of laps, simulations, and Quick Boost drills just didn't compare.

"Then…" Fiona faltered, trailing off with uncertainty in her voice. "…then I'm sure you'll be sent back into the fray."

He looked up, glancing over the towel as he scrubbed over his mouth and nose.

"You disapprove?"

"I…" She hesitated, looking everywhere around the hanger except for him or his NEXT. "…I do not know. I mean, Anatolia is in danger of collapsing. This…this is my home, and I don't want to lose it. But at the same time…how many people died today? It just…it just doesn't feel right."

He nodded in acceptance; in agreement, even. A healthy human mind didn't wake up one morning and settle on killing as the first course of action. In a manner, he welcomed her views. But for every situation where killing wasn't the 'right' thing to do, there was a situation where it wouldn't exactly be 'wrong' either.

Or maybe he was just a jaded cynic.

"This is something I learned during the NDW, Fiona." The Normal sacrificing themselves came to mind. He sagged where he was seated. "We all have our reasons for doing what we do; It can't be just chalked down to 'I'm a merc, they're terrorists' or 'we're the good guys, they're the bad'. For every reason I can think of for doing what I do, everyone else has one as well. I'm not going to make some flimsy, self-righteous justification that I'm doing the 'better thing' or that that their deaths were 'necessary'."

Joints popped as he stood and stretched taking one last glance at his Operator.

"…I'm just someone who wants to keep his world alive. Someone who wants to put food on the table. And this is the only way I know how."

Silent Prophet loomed overhead, and he made his way out of the hanger and away from Fiona. His Operator looked deep in though - or at least he thought she did.

"I accept what I do, and I'll accept my fate when the reaper comes to collect. But until then, I'll just keep living."

The door shut with barely a sound, and never before did he just want to fall asleep and never wake up.

At least the damn headache had gone away.