A/N: I own nothing. I feel like this is the writers equivalent of an apple. a disclaimer per post keeps the Lawyers away. anyway, im going to start trying scene transitions in chapter. let me know how it works. I hope you enjoy.
The pain faded as quickly as it had set on, the pressure on his mind releasing all at once. He came too staring at the ceiling of the hangar, somehow inside the crate. He sat up slowly, feeling stiff. A small bar of text popped up in the corner of his vision along with what looked like a brain activity map.
Neural activity stabilizing. Transference complete. Neural host set.
Now that was a confusing line to read. Transference? Neural host? He had to wonder if his implants were acting up or if it was some new implant giving him weird information. He used his arms to push himself up out of the crate, looking around the room for the AWS proper, the damn thing was huge, there was no way it could have gotten far. instead he found his own body lying face down on the floor next to the crate.
He froze, staring at the body. A target information display came up; it displayed heart rate, breathing, and health metrics. He was alive, but that didn't make sense, how was he on the floor but standing? He looked down at his body, slowly realizing that he wasn't in his own body. His brain didn't register anything as different, but he could see metal arms and legs, what he thought was a regular tactical vest was bonded to his torso. He turned to look around the hangar, just trying to wrap his head around the idea that he had somehow entered the Simulacrum.
XR was simply looking at him, seeming completely unconcerned with the events that had recently transpired. "How long was I out? And how am I in this thing? Why am I not panicking? Or going insane?"
For just a second XR's optics swiveled and widened as if he was surprised. "you never left. You have transferred your consciousness to the AWS, one of the purposes of your implants is to improve the link between your neural matrix and the one in the AWS. Once properly synched you will perceive the AWS as being a part of your self image, this is meant to remove the risk of rejection."
Now that was interesting, rejection was a major issue for persons transferring into a simulacrum. Insanity would set in as they were unable to handle becoming a machine. There was a significant amount of effort that went into mitigating the effects and chances of such rejection, going so far as to create the illusion that the person was still in an organic body and removing the memory of their death. Dealing with the transition to a new body was difficult for the human mind to comprehend or accept, synching the implants with the AWS to create a singular self-image that included the biological body and the AWS was one of the more elegant solutions he had heard of.
" pilot, I have discovered a number of previously hidden files; transferring them to your PDA." That was alarming, there shouldn't have been a way to hide a file inside a Titan's memory banks. As XR started the transfer he noticed that he had a ping on his HUD; a full blueprint of the AWS along side a video file.
The blueprint was informative, it gave him a far better image than what he had gathered before slipping into it. The Simulacrum maintained the standard stalker vertical visor along side a number of secondary sensor pods that recreated the T-visor shape, with some mounted on the top and sides of the head giving him what he suspected would be full 360o vision. 2.5m tall, solidly built, and currently painted matte black with a brown vest similar to what a Spectre would wear. These were all visible to the naked eye, the blueprint revealed just what was lurking under the hood; armored battery packs, onboard generators, targeting processors, arm mounted climbing claws, a shoulder mounted weapons pod, onboard jump kit, and a full assortment of Pilot tactical options- minus the A-wall, just like his armor. There were a few things on the blueprint that didn't make sense to him, a large number of question marks or overly wordy and vague descriptions of certain parts. He turned to the video file for answers.
To his surprise he was greeted with the face of Dr. Sulieman who had given him the AWS to begin with. His looked slightly distraught, his tone almost apologetic as he started. "if you are seeing this message, then three things have happened: One, you have transferred your self to the AWS. And Two, I have lied to you, for which I apologize. And you have traveled beyond the gate without me, or I have died and am not able to do this in person. The reason for this deception is simple, we needed to hurry, the truth would have only delayed us past the point of safety. As you may have suspected what you knew as the AWS- the armor- is merely a training unit; for both you and the true AWS. There are a few things you must know about it before you attempt to make full use of it.
The first, the AWS is not of IMC manufacture, it is not even of human manufacture. We uncovered the AWS at this very facility during the excavation of the portal array. when we found it, we called in Hammond Robotics, Vinson Dynamics, and Lastimosa Armory under orders of the IMC in an attempt to weaponize the unit we uncovered.
Second. The AWS far outstrips human capabilities, this is the reason for the pre-existing neural connection. Without synching your own abilities with the AWS, you would be completely overwhelmed by its performance; as it is we needed to give you the implant injection to slowly bring you into line with it or the transition would destroy your mind as you tried to adapt.
Third. We do not fully understand the AWS. There are a number of systems and design features that we have been unable to decode, but we know that many of these are linked to the far side of the portal. Two features that you must be made aware of are the regenerative bio-metal that the entire system is made of, the second is the energy transfer network. We do not understand the nature of the bio-metal- if it is nano-tech or something more enigmatic- what we do know is that the regenerative abilities outstrip that of a Pilot on high end stimulants and can be accelerated by the consumption of matter. And the energy network runs throughout the AWS and resonates in the presence of certain unknown compounds gathered from the unfortunates who were drawn to our side by the portal- hopefully you are able to at least make use of these features."
The Dr. paused for a moment before going over a copy of the blueprint that Steele had in front of him. now sounding much more professional. "The AWS assumed the rough form of the Stalker autonomous infantry platform on its own after an engagement during the first combat trials, once we had gotten it running of course. The AWS is mimetic and reactionary in nature, shifting form as required- hence the name, Adaptive Warfare Simulacrum. – the form you are currently in possession of has attempted to mimic the armor system that makes up the training module.
Our friends at Hammond, Vinson, and Lastimosa came together to create a combat system that brings the operator- the person viewing this recording- the durability of a Reaper, the mobility of a Pilot, and the firepower of an entire platoon of riflemen. Hammond Robotics were able to turn this unit into a Simulacrum, they were also able to adjust the baseline of the Stalker series to make a more viable assault platform. Redundant power packs and cooling systems-all armored, installing the matrix and neural systems that allow for operation as a Simulacrum, and various small improvements to the sensor packages; as well as a large improvement in the form of the pulse array, a sensor package that mimics that of the Pulse blade out to 15m in a 90 degree arc from the center of your vision.
Vinson Dynamics wanted to push the performance beyond what we had considered optimal. Your integrated jump kit, climbing claws, and Pilot tactical systems are all courtesy of their engineers.
Lastimosa Armory wanted to turn it into a mobile weapons platform. To that end they installed the weapons pod in your left shoulder and the enhanced targeting systems throughout the AWS; your weapons pod is a combination of an L-STAR, and a Reaper Rocket Launcher.
The AWS is equipped with a set of artificial organs, these enhance the AWS's abilities but are not required for its operation; in addition, they serve a secondary purpose in easing the transition from an organic body. Heart, lungs, and partial gastro-intestinal system- your stomach is the end point and is the primary factor in the processing of material to speed regeneration of the bio-metal. Your lungs provide water for the fuel cells that power the AWS. Your heart pumps additional coolant and bio-metal through the internals.
Until you have fully abandoned the mortal coil, I am afraid that the full capabilities of the AWS will elude you. It is synched to your own nervous system so as to be unable to breach your own performance barriers, I suggest that you disengage from the AWS as soon as practical and do not return until your death, the AWS is addicting- if our earlier test subjects are any indication- it does no good to dwell on what you cannot have.
I wish there was more I could give you; more information, more knowledge, more tools and weapons, alas, all I have is this final briefing. I hope that life finds you well, and that you live a long and peaceful life, but you are a Pilot, and these things are so often not for individuals of your caliber. Dr. Suleiman out."
That was a whole lot to unpack. But first things first, return to his body, the Dr. had made that clear. He tried to make his body comfortable before attempting another transference. He was alarmingly aware of the AWS now, just how powerful it felt, how much it was holding back, and just how dangerous it could be to him if the Dr was warning against staying in it.
This time the transfer was much less painful, no more than a pinching sensation before he blacked out. As he woke up, he became aware of a strange new sensation. He could feel the AWS as it moved around on its own, a fragment of his personality driving it alongside what felt like its own intelligence. He staggered to his feet, pushing through a splitting headache to find the AWS standing in the middle of a number of crates. He made his way over, already feeling the need to transfer back- that addiction was no joke. They were weapon crates, full of goodies that would have kept him supplied for a while if it wasn't for his semblance. There was a selection of weapons and ammo spread over the crates, an L-STAR, Softball, Hemlock, Mastiff, CAR, Devotion, Volt, and of all things an SMR. The AWS immediately grabbed the Devotion, Volt, and Mastiff; as if trying to carry the stereotypical weapons of the Stalkers all at once in some sort of parody, thankfully, Steele wasn't in any particular need of any of those weapons- the shotgun would be nice to borrow from time to time.
He decided to leave the majority of the weapons here, he would need to bring Ruby by to take a look or she would never forgive him. But the L-STAR and the Softball were coming with him, a little bit of extra firepower wouldn't hurt. In the end, this was a full send of a sidetrack; he needed to get back on target, and now he had an extra set of hands to help out.
He had intended to give XR a new paint job, something to give XR a little bit of personal flare. He was thinking something to do with a Nevermore, maybe some missiles trailing feathers instead of smoke. It took a few tries to get the AWS to follow his direction, it was like learning to move a whole new muscle group, just more. Once he got the hang of it things started progressing quickly, the AWS was the better artist between them, Steele ended up standing back and just working through the AWS.
The end result was… satisfying. A Nevermore divebombing an unseen target, wings fully spread as if making an attack, and a cluster of missiles spiraling out from under the wings in all directions. It was nothing fancy, but it was his and XR's and that's what mattered.
Steele waited in the gym, the Intruder at his side. Luna was supposed to meet him here, she hadn't said a time, but the sun hadn't risen yet and classes didn't start for another few hours, the last time they had spoken was at a similar time of morning the day before. Sure enough, he only had to wait a few minutes.
Luna was dressed for war, she wore a full set of heavy armor, carrying a spear and a pair of swords, one curved and one straight edged. Her armor was somewhere between Egyptian, Mayan, and a blend Oriental styles. Her helmet was definitely styled after a fox, long snout and perky ears- he was pretty sure those were her ears with small armor plates on them- but with a large feathered plume that came up from directly above the eye slits. Heavy overlapping plates of armor layered over top of a multi hued blue and green tasselled robe. Each plate was engraved with images of Grimm or people in battle, sharp lines and square edges; the markings seemed to tell a story, a piece of art and history as much as a suit of armor. A skirt made in the same way as the rest of the armor covered her legs, split in the front and bearing a set of banners that dangled down over and between her legs.
He wasn't sure if her name carried the same connotations on Remnant as it would back home, but the overall impression of her armor certainly leaned towards what he would think. The robes invoked the image of an aurora just after sundown, shifting bands of blue ranging from ice to navy to royal, overlapped by swirling ropes of greens, reds, and purples. A spattering of white added a shimmering star-scape to the robes, a broken moon sigil hung on the banner at the front of her armored skirt and on a piece of cloth beneath her right shoulder. Adding to the look was that at the very least the head of her spear was formed from what looked like polished obsidian, a deep, glossy mirrored finish that caught the light on its edges. If Steele was looking for a warrior moon-spirit, he found one.
She looked at him, head tilted. "normally we would go to the arena for a fight, but we won't be trading blows today. Give me your blade for a moment, I want to check something."
He presented the handle to her, watching as she fiddled with the spine of the blade. She opened a compartment and pulled out a glowing pile of machinery. A thought struck Steele as he looked at it, the Intruder must have been powered by Dust, and Luna knew how it worked.
She put the core back in, her voice a little husky. "as I thought, my brother's." her voice cleared, returning to its normal tone. "I'm going to show you a pattern, then you will repeat it to me, this will show me the shape of blade and style of combat that will best suit you. Watch closely.
She drew the straight edge sword from its sheath, revealing a similarly built blade as the spear. A proper longsword without any fanciness, practicality above all with this blade. She flowed through a pattern that he knew he wouldn't be able to remember properly; he saw the general idea, he would have to fill in the inevitable blanks with what felt natural to him, each movement had multiple ways it could be executed depending on style. The pattern would bring out the style and forms that came naturally to him, or that fell under the scope of his training.
He tried, he really tried, but he had no idea how to handle a sword; he ended up using it like an oversized knife. As he went through the pattern the intruder started feeding him new information, allowing him to settle into something resembling swordsmanship. By the end of it he was proud of himself for being able to adapt and not make a complete fool of himself.
Luna had watched silently the entire time, not approving, nor disappointed. "that blade is both too long and too short for you. You need multiple blades. On one hand you have exceptional skills with a knife, a shorter blade would give you range and power without forcing you to alter your style. On the other, you have incredible strength and speed; a long and heavy blade would be devastating in your hands. And you have a preference for backhand grip- ice-pick style it has also been called- I need to write home. But, considering the circumstances, perhaps I can get permission… In any case, you need two blades; one arm length and straight edged for stabbing and up-close work. The other, an Odachi perhaps, properly made you would be able to bring most opponents to their knees with a single blow or halve an Ursa with a well-placed swing. A straight edge for fighting armor, a curved edge for slashing and cleaving unarmored foes. Ill bring you a basic blueprint at lunch, forge the blades with modifications as needed, and we will fight properly when they are complete. I should have a response from home by then, and I can start teaching you."
Steele was ok with that. "I look forward to it. are those blades stone?"
She drew the longsword again. "each one of the blades that my family creates are made from a single piece of obsidian or a small cast of metal; we spend up to three years on each blade, working in Dust, refining alloys, and polishing. The Obsidian is the hardest to work with, but it is the most rewarding; when done correctly, it results in the sharpest blades of all possible materials. Conversely it is brittle and near impossible to work in the Dust that keeps it sharp, strong, and durable."
That was interesting. Her family forged blades, and they had techniques for working Dust into them. Between that information and the bit where she had opened up the Intruder, what she said; it painted a picture of how the Intruder came to be. Another damn casualty. "your brother, something happened to him perhaps a year ago… am I right."
Her blade was at his throat in a blink, her eyes locked on his. He spoke quickly. "whoa, I had nothing to do with it. the people who made the blade, the IMC, they had been recovering things from this side of the portal. One of them was a body that carried the artificial mass inside the Intruder, I just put it together now."
The blade came down. Nothing more than a flash of light as it returned to its sheath. Luna turned and marched out, not a word as she left. Steele packed up, realizing that the room felt oddly empty in her wake.