I'm...not even gonna bother defending myself here.
Another story started, woo, I guess. I do this way too often, and I am really sorry about it for those of you waiting for chapters for my other stories, it's just that, well, I suspect I have some level of ADHD based on how quickly I can jump from loving writing something to then wanting to not touch it. Sometimes when writing Chipped Surface for example, I'd get hyper-bored of it and do nothing, then leap back at it and bang out 3 chapters in 4 hours.
Also I have to say, and oops I forgot to put this in earlier, but this story is heavily inspired by Taylor is DOOMed by mp3.1415player. It's very different in that it's actually taking place in the UAC Facility on Mars and following the story mostly, but it does have certain obvious aspects. I'm hoping, and I say hope because I have literally no plan here, that I can make something interesting from this, since only 24 chapters of mp3's story just isn't enough for me, which is why I made my own!
And finally, this is going to be an OP-OC story. Skye starts off weak, and by...err, chapter 6, she's definitely not weak, probably about as opposite the idea of weak as you can physically be. I'm sorry, I let stupid ideas get away from me and now she's really stupidly strong but also it's fun and I want to write overpowered characters -.-
Welp, I hope you enjoy =3
Chapter 1
When Skye opened her eyes, she...didn't expect what she saw.
She'd gone to the girl's bathroom when she heard laughter and the sound of something splashing, and caught Sophia holding a door whilst the arms of other girls were visible over the cubicle walls. Skye already knew that getting involved would be a terrible idea, so decided to turn around and just leave. A shove to her back precipitated this, and ended up with her falling forwards towards the solid wall on the other side of the corridor at an angle she instantly knew was going to catch her forehead and maybe her nose, while the rest of her body would keep falling, which was probably going to result in a snapped neck.
Thus, when her eyes opened, she expected to be staring at the ceiling of a hospital room. But that wasn't the case. The ceiling was metal, and directly above her was some kind of rectangular stone object, as well as twitching mechanical arms. Her eyes trailed down to observe the rest of the room, and that was when she saw them. There were...things shambling very slowly around the room. They were...they couldn't be human. Their arms reached down to their knees, and the flesh visible through tears in their clothing was covered in tumors and lumps. Then, one of them turned to face her, a hole in its head where its eyes should have been and a mouth with teeth but no lips.
She wanted to say she was brave, she swore at it or threatened it. But no, her mouth opened and she let out a loud scream as its teeth clicked repeatedly, mimicking eating as it shambled towards her. Skye tried to get up and roll off the stone she could feel beneath her, but that simply caused her to scream again for two reasons. The first was the pain in her left arm as she tried to roll and yanked harshly against a manacle wrapped around it.
The second was the much closer thing that had been coming up behind her. She had no leverage, no ability to do anything as dessicated and mutated arms snatched ahold of her, a mouth lunging towards her face. She jerked in terror and felt pure agony as those teeth sunk into her throat, far sharper than even knives as they sliced through her neck, her blood spurting out as the pain smashed into her. With a rending tear, the thing drew away from her, jaws clamped shut as it tore away her throat.
Then, her eyes opened again, and she bolted upright, immediately attracting the attention of the things as she hyperventilated, her throat being torn out echoing in her mind as a passing pain. She immediately started trying to yank on her chains, screaming as arms snatched her shoulders and teeth sank into the back of her head, her vision whiting out as her skull itself was pierced.
Her eyes opened, and she jerked, the sensation of her brain itself being bitten through meshing with the still-receding pain of her throat being torn out. Her involuntary jerk had rattled the chained manacles around her wrists, and she could already see one of the things moving towards her. Closing her eyes, she let out a sniffing sob as she felt those hands close on her chest and head, teeth sinking into her neck from the front and tearing her throat out.
By forcing herself to remain as still as she could despite the blinding wave of pain she felt, the echo of her throat being literally pulled out by teeth, when her eyes opened involuntarily, she found herself staring up at the stone rectangle, her awakening not attracting the attention of any of the things around her. Whatever was going on, why she was being tortured, she had no idea. All she knew was that Sophia or one of the other girls had pushed her, she had seen her own death coming, accepted it, and then she was there.
She could already tell she was entirely naked, the air across her entire body and the fact she could feel the stone under her tipping her off to that fact, but she had no time to think about that. She had to find a way to escape. The chains around her wrists were rusty, but thick. Her legs hadn't been shackled though, not that she expected to be able to beat those things when she couldn't twist around very much, not with her arms being so closely shackled.
The things seemed docile, not recognizing that she was there. When one turned and its hole, where she presumed it viewed the world from, passed over her, she remained as still as a statue until its head had turned to look away. She labelled the things as hole-heads for the time being, better than calling them 'the things', and carefully controlled another wave of terror as she heard shambling from above her, or behind, depending on how orientation was looked at.
That told her there were at least three of the hole-heads in the room with her. They were physically stronger than she was, from the fact that just one could hold her down in place and bite her, and they had way stronger jaw strength than a human, as well as sharper teeth. Their hands looked like enlarged human hands, no bladed claws or anything like that, which was a small relief.
Moving at a glacial pace, she was able to sit up slightly and look around the room more closely, noting that so long as she wasn't moving, the hole-heads didn't seem interested in her. The instant they did notice her however, they would be on her immediately. If she wanted to stop whatever the fuck was going on, she'd need to find a way to get out of the manacles.
Biting her lip, Skye felt her stomach drop as she realized that if she wanted to observe the rest of the manacle for any kind of lock or weakness, she'd have to move her wrists, and that meant making noise. If she made noise, the hole-heads would notice her instantly and attack her, and she didn't want them to hurt her again. Instead of doing that, she scanned the room keenly, starting with looking towards her feet.
There was a solid-looking door towards her feet, which was quite obviously closed and didn't rely on motion detection, as one of the hole-heads walked pretty much into it and it didn't open. Turning her head millimetres at a time, she saw red circles on the ground marked with runes of some kind. One of them had what looked to her eyes to be a pistol of some kind, probably tinker-tech since she couldn't see a magazine or anything. Plus, it was glowing blue, and they didn't look like LEDs. But, the problem was that it was way too far out of reach. Even if she dislocated her right arm and twisted over her entire body, she doubted she'd be able to reach it.
That was when fate decided to do what could be taken two ways. One of the hole-heads walked into the pistol, kicking it towards her a little, enough that if she threw her body over the edge, there was a chance she could hook a toe into the trigger guard, bring it up to her hand, shoot the chain attaching the manacle to the stone, then shoot the chain on the other side and get off the stone platform.
But the problem was that the positions of the hole-heads had reset each time she blinked awake. That meant it was absurdly likely that the position of the pistol would reset back to where it was, out of reach. Turning her head slowly right, she scanned the rest of the room, and had to choke down a sob as she saw that there was absolutely fuck-all that was going to be useful to her in the room.
From observing the hole-heads, she figured they moved fairly randomly, but there was a chance that by staying still and attracting no attention, they'd move in the same random pattern and kick the gun towards her each time. Skye barely resisted the urge to flinch when a burst of sparks emerged from the ceiling, pointing out to her that the place was obviously damaged in some capacity.
Very slowly lowering herself back to lie against the stone, she examined the mechanical arms that were twitching above her. One of them had some kind of cutting tool attached to it, but it might as well have been a big metal dildo for how useful it'd be to her. The arm was, by her own entirely unbiased judgment, fucking miles away from the chain she'd need it to cut. And it wouldn't help either. She needed to break the chain on her right arm, not her left.
Again moving at increments of a millimetre at a time she rose one of her legs up, resisting the urge to shiver both from the cold and from when one of the hole-heads looked over her, and pushed it gently against the mechanical arm. It didn't budge, so she started upping the pressure, gritting her teeth to stop herself growling when it stayed perfectly stationary, more than strong enough to hold even when she was pushing all her leg strength against it. Peering as closely as she could at the tool attached to it, she couldn't even see any kind of convenient release or a manual activation, nothing to help her move it to the chain and free her.
Biting her tongue to stop herself making any angry noises, she lowered her leg, and at the same time raised herself back up until she could see the pistol again. It was definitely close enough for her to grab. If she turned 90 degrees left, rose her right arm above her head and slid basically off the stone, she'd definitely be able to grab it between her feet. The problem would be getting it into her hands before one of the hole-heads got ahold of her and started drilling holes into her with their teeth. There were three hole-heads, and in the time she'd spent, two of them had bunched up near the door while the first was to her rear-left, away from the door and the other two.
Keeping her wrists firmly planted against the stone, she slid her body sideways, moving her legs off the side of the stone. She very carefully made sure that even when her shoulder started to hurt she didn't twist her arm, because that would pull the chain and make noise. Each time she saw one of the hole-heads looking towards her, she stayed perfectly frozen.
By moving slowly, silently and more importantly than all carefully, she was able to place her feet against the metal ridge running along the edges of the stone, all without alerting any of the hole-heads to her movements. Shuffling her feet forwards, she started to slide across the stone, twisting her body so she was half-laying on her left side, keeping either wrist from moving far behind the starting point.
She almost choked when her toes tapped against the pistol, terrified that the sound was enough to provoke the hole-heads. After a few seconds of disinterest, she felt an immense wave of relief roll across her body. There, with her legs supporting most of her body as she contorted herself, she very slowly nudged the pistol, angling it up and capturing it between her feet. Decidedly not making any noise of relief, she started shuffling the pistol towards herself, her feet pinning it between them.
Then it all went wrong. Her legs had been shaking a little from the awkward angle and the weight they were supporting, and just the lightest errant twitch meant she nudged one of the rocks littering the floor, attracting the attention of the one hole-head that had shifted to be at the back of the room. Immediately she threw herself across and off the stone as far as she could go, bringing her feet up towards her left hand even as she let out a scream of pain.
By moving as she did, she had basically snapped her right arm and shoulder. The terror of dying now and being sent back gave her a feral need to survive though, and she managed to snatch hold of the pistol. Immediately she pushed the barrel against the chain of the manacle on her left wrist, shooting it. She then shot the other manacle, immediately sprawling forwards and turning it into a clumsy and painful roll as the rocks impacted her back.
Scampering to the left, around the shambling hole-head, she raised her pistol, firing off several shots into the chest of the hole-head, her vision blurring as the pain in her right arm sent stabs of agony through her. Bumping against a wall, she let out another scream as her mangled arm smacked the surface. The hole-head she'd shot was down, and wasn't moving, but the other two were now approaching her.
Levelling the pistol, she tried to steady her aim and clear her vision, sniffing and swallowing the urge to sob as she tried to centre her sights and conserve ammunition. It took three shots for her to hit the face of the second hole-head, then dart to the right and around the stone platform away from the last hole-head. Another two shots and the final hole-head died, letting her fall to her knees and sob as the adrenaline started to wear off and she began to feel the pure agony that was her right arm.
When she fell across the stone, she pulled her arm to the limit, then smashed it down against the stone, which forced her shoulder up as well as snapping her humerus against the edge of the stone. It also pulled her wrist and probably broke stuff there as well, she wasn't nearly good enough to know what else she'd done to mess her arm up.
Fighting back tears of pain, she got up, her right arm dangling uselessly while she observed the room. There was nothing of note in there except for the corpses of the hole-heads and the mechanical arms that were still twitching in the air above the...sarcophagus was the best term for it after seeing it from the outside. Biting back another pained whine as her arm shifted, she looked at the pistol she'd grabbed.
It was definitely tinker-tech. There was no safety, and no visible magazine. Flicking her thumb against one of the two switches she could see pulled the slide back, and the other opened up the base. For what purpose she had no idea, but she could take a guess for the slide. There was a blue energy cell thing that became way more visible with the slide drawn back, so that was probably for when the pistol ran out of charge. Only problem was she had no fucking idea how much charge she even had left.
Shutting her eyes, she inhaled slowly, ignoring the stench of blood and the pain in her arm, counted to ten, then exhaled slowly. She repeated that a few times, calming herself down, before opening her eyes again. She turned over her left arm, observing the manacle. It was held together by a metal bolt, and through some careful manoeuvring, she was able to put a shot into the bolt, releasing her left wrist. After doing the same to her right wrist as well, alleviating some of the weight, she approached the door and tapped on it with her pistol, then took a step back and fired a shot at the glass, noting that aside from a bit of scorching, it was unaffected.
There was a panel next to the door that she walked up to, awkwardly pinning the pistol under her chin and tapping on it. Immediately the lock snapped sideways, having been a red line going up to down, then whooshing open. Her pistol was already back in her hand when the door opened, but no more hole-heads lunged out to attack her. Stepping through, she could see more machinery around some kind of suit of armour that was in a similar stone sarcophagus to what she had been laying on.
Walking up to it, she pinned the pistol under her chin again and poked her finger at the under-armour mesh beneath the chestpiece and above the belt-like strip of green metal. It had very little give, and the entire thing gave off the impression of incredibly high-tech armour. The kind of armour that'd probably save her from being gnawed on by hole-heads. The only problem was that there was no indication of how the fuck she was supposed to wear it. The entire thing, from the front at least, looked entirely solid, and it looked to be pretty much the right size for her. But there wasn't exactly an instruction manual for wearing it.
Glancing behind her to make sure nothing was sneaking up on her, Skye dropped down and placed the pistol on the ground, looking at her ruined arm. She could see and even feel the fact that her humerus was broken, snapped in half almost right at the middle. If she'd dropped any further she'd probably have the bone itself sticking out of her arm. That meant her right arm was completely and utterly useless to her.
Looking around the room, she spotted a computer and headed over to it, picking up the chair behind it and sitting down with a quiet sigh, peering at the screen. It was blank, and tapping at the keys with her hand did absolutely nothing. She poked and prodded at it for a moment before growling, rolling the chair over to her pistol. She snatched it up and fired a shot at the screen, uncaring of wasting a shot as the glass shattered to pieces.
The screen beside the suit was more interesting. It said that a demonic invasion was in progress, which explained the hole-heads at least a little. Tapping this screen got her equally little, but by swiping it, she managed to bring up some kind of scan. While it ran diagnostics she put the pistol in her lap and shivered, looking back into the other room where the three dead hole-heads resided.
They had armour, which included bracers, but the problem was that their arms were so distorted that she couldn't see a way to remove the armour. In some places it even looked like their flesh was growing onto it. Carefully shifting her right arm and biting back a yelp of pain as the bones shifted, she listened as an automated voice told her that a satellite needed to be brought back online to find where the demonic invasion was coming from.
Normally hearing something like that would make her laugh, but after dying three times in quick succession and having her arm broken or dislocated in multiple places, she didn't have it in her to even smile a little. When the diagnostics were done and tapping at the screen yielded nothing, she turned her attention back to the suit of armour, placing the pistol down on her chair as she stepped up to it.
Grasping ahold of the helmet, she lifted it up, surprised when something internal released and the helmet came off. Humming, she examined the helmet, looking it over for damage or any indication it had even been used before. Settling the helmet down on the floor away from the chair where she wouldn't step on it by accident if she needed her pistol in a hurry, she then took hold of the collar of the suit of armour, tentatively attempting to move it.
That led to her yelping in surprise when the suit itself took a step then stopped, almost falling backwards in surprise. Apparently the suit was able to hold itself up and move semi-intelligently. Stepping around the suit, she took ahold of its nape and pushed it forwards, watching the suit take another step forwards. Blinking, Skye put her hand against the back of the suit and pushed it out into the open, off the slightly awkward footing and onto firm metal ground, a few steps from the helmet.
She took the pistol off her chair and placed it on the ground, then very carefully got up onto the chair and looked into the suit itself. The hole where the helmet would rest seemed pretty big, and being honest the suit itself looked surprisingly spacious considering how advanced it was, being able to support itself and move like it did. Taking ahold of the neck, she tentatively tugged at the material around the spot the helmet would go, and nearly fell off the chair when it slid forwards into the leg of the suit.
Fortunately, the standing armour didn't move, otherwise she'd have probably ended up on her ass, but it was still annoying only having the use of one arm. Leveraging her legs against the waist of the armour, she tugged in the material around the neck again, her lips curling up ever so slightly when she felt it flex. The under-armour mesh around the neck was flexible, and that meant that she might be able to get into the suit. Her problem, again, was her lack of a right arm. Or rather, the fact that her right arm was utterly fucked up right now. She'd maybe be able to get into the suit, but getting her right arm into it was going to be actually hellish.
She glanced down at the pistol, biting her lip as she contemplated something she never thought she would. Right now, her right arm was useless to her, it was literally dead weight and going to keep on hurting even inside the suit. She was now running under the assumption that she had triggered, and her power was some kind of fucked up respawn ability, which for some reason put her back on the sarcophagus. If she shot herself in the head, she had a good chance of appearing back on that stone surface, wrists still chained up but with a fully functional right arm.
Shifting slightly, she felt the arm move again and let out a hiss of pain. Rather than do that immediately, she decided first to see if there was anything useful in the next room along, the door snapping open as she approached it. She walked through the corridor, her eyes widening as she saw a mutilated corpse hanging from a pipe. She dropped to a knee and retched, the sight of the bulging eyes and the blood dripping cutting through her dissonance. It was easy to see the hole-heads as inhuman, like shooting a deer or a bird, but seeing an actual human who looked like they'd been flayed...it was too much.
Placing the pistol under her chin, she spat and wiped her mouth a few times, shivering as she got up. Passing by the body and through a narrow passage through some boxes and barrels, she came across another hole-head. Levelling her pistol, she steadied herself against one of the barrels and fired off a shot, blasting its head open from the back and attracting the attention of another four hole-heads. Staying where she was, she slowly and carefully shot each one in the head, only taking five shots, missing one when one of the hole-heads stumbled a little.
Coming up to some stairs, she climbed them, covering her mouth with her forearm when she saw another corpse, pinned beneath the door. Walking closer, pistol ready, she saw that the body was holding a shotgun, which, without two arms to use, was entirely useless to her. The recoil would knock her on her ass even if she had both arms free, and she could see it was a pump-action, meaning loading another shell was practically impossible with one arm.
That was when she reached a dead-end. The door had no control working, the gap was way too narrow for her to slip under, and as far as she could recall there was no other way out. Skye wandered back down the steps, keeping her eyes peeled for ventilation shafts, hidden passages, anything that could help her. Coming back to the barrels, she rolled them to the side, wincing at the noise they made even as it attracted no attention. Behind them was nothing, it was literally just a walkway stuffed with boxes and barrels and stuff.
Sighing, she looked over one of the crates, and spotted a large metal handle attached to the side of it. Grabbing ahold of it, she wrenched it upwards, the only way it seemed to want to move, and was surprised when the lid of the crate popped open. Planting her hand under the lip, she angled her arm and used her legs to push herself and her arm upwards, forcing the lid up and off the crate, then over, where it slammed loudly against another metal crate.
Inside of the crate were white packs, and when she picked one up she could see they were ration packs of varying kinds. Looking around, she located another crate, forcing open the lever in much the same way. That one had various bullet types. There was what looked like twelve-gauge buckshot, 5.56 rifle rounds, 7.62, even some 12.7 and possibly 20mm rounds, way higher than any infantry rifle would ever be. There were also a few grenades, or at least what looked like grenades.
There were two crates stacked on top of each other, and climbing up onto one of the barrels meant she could then get her feet against the inside of the food crate. Using that for leverage she pushed her back against the top crate, very slowly forcing it off the top of the other crate, sending it crashing to the floor and making an echoing bang that temporarily deafened her.
Finding the lever on the side of the box, she planted her feet against the grate beneath her and forced the lever upwards, popping the locks open. She then grabbed the end and used the grate again to force herself and the lid upwards. Inside were blue canisters with handles on the top. Pulling one out, she saw that they were marked with a white box and a blue cross, immediately making her eyes widen.
It was the Red Cross, except obviously blue instead of red, practically the most universal medical symbol in existence. Hauling herself up onto the side of the filled crate, she scanned it carefully, spotting some kind of laminated sheets in a pouch tucked into the side of the box. Grabbing it, she basically tore it open by pinning it between her knees, snatching at the sheets and reading it.
The UAC Health Dispenser was a burst-type nanite dispenser designed to find and fix the injuries of the nearest target. It apparently could even bring someone back from the dead if it was used before a few minutes pass, since it would start immediately supplying oxygenated blood to the brain. This was only for below-the-neck injuries though, anything afflicting the brain wasn't fixable.
Well, it was technically fixable, but there was a very high probability that the damage would change the person afflicted, destroying memories, speech patterns, basically who the person was before the injury. But that any of that mattered, the UAC Health Dispenser was apparently more than adequate for fixing broken, even pulverized bones. Hesitating for just a moment, she pressed the button on the side of the dispenser, watching as it emitted a blue cloud which immediately flowed towards her.
That was when the pain started. Her right arm felt like it was on fire, the nanites working to move things like the displaced humerus, remove parts they didn't need and breaking them down to usable components, relocating her shoulder and a sickening pop, and generally working to repair her arm. Skye would have loved to be able to say that she soldiered through the pain, fisting her arms and letting out nothing but gritted-teeth groans. No, she bawled as her arm felt like it was being torn apart and pulled together, because that was pretty much what the nanites were doing.
Finally, mercifully, the pain went away, and after wiping away the tears, the snot and the saliva that was on her face, she was able to look upon her completely healed arm in amazement. She curled and uncurled it, not quite able to believe that she was actually alright. Her arm was actually fixed, to a level that she only believed capable of for those like Eidolon or Panacea.
Clenching her right fist, she shut her eyes, calming herself down as she let the fact that she didn't have to shoot herself wash over her. She would have done it if she absolutely had to, but...well, shooting herself just went against every notion she'd ever believed. Getting up from where she'd fallen off the medical crate, she looked over the blue dispensers, eventually grabbing one by the handle in her left hand, her right hand now holding her pistol as she walked back to the armoured suit.
Planting down the health dispenser and her pistol, she got up on her chair beside the free-standing suit, using her newfound leverage to pull the top of the suit open a little wider, grinning when she saw that it stayed mostly open, not going back to how it was exactly. Resting some of her weight against the suit, she tested it, seeing if it'd move when she weighed it down. Even when putting her arms on its shoulders and putting all her weight against it, the suit didn't budge.
With a grin on her face, Skye lifted herself up, folding her legs up then slipping them into the widened neck of the suit, followed quickly by her waist as she slipped inside, carefully positioning her feet to go down the correct legs, using her grasp on the neck of the suit to adjust herself. Her feet found the bottom of the suit, and she sighed in relief, having been worried that the middle of the suit, the seam between the legs, was going to press between her legs like a wooden horse.
Folding her arms down and into the sleeves of the armour, she adjusted herself, her fingers finding the gloves at the end of the suit. Upon feeling all of her fingertips touch the end of the gloves, she was surprised as the suit started crudely mimicking what she was doing, the arms and legs moving as she moved, as well as the chest. Curious, she rose both her arms and one leg, the suit doing so with a half a second of delay. It seemed every action she attempted, the suit copied, but did it a little after she tried to make it do so.
Shrugging, she leaned down and grabbed the helmet, planting it under one arm as she tugged her hair into the suit before planting the helmet on. Immediately she had to stifle a yelp as she felt the suit adjusting, certain parts tightening and moving, seemingly adjusting to her body. As she stood there, the suit started to conform to her shape, every inch of her body. The helmet began a heads-up display diagnostic, a red flashing box informing her that the user of the suit had no recognized interface implants.
What worried her was that the box then vanished, replaced with one that said 'prepare for implantation' and a short countdown. She tried to move, but it seemed the suit was now locked in place, and she physically couldn't move any part of her body aside from her head. That worry was well-founded as the countdown ended and she felt a nasty stinging sensation in the back of her neck, like someone had stabbed a needle into her.
Hearing a whirring sound of some kind, she tried to move again, but her body was still entirely immovable. After maybe thirty seconds where she could only hear weird sounds and see the green and opaque visor telling her things, she began to feel her neck again, a lingering feeling of soreness that quickly went away. The red box was replaced by a green box, telling her that the implantation was a success, making her shiver. That shiver made the suit shiver as well, and the suit began telling her that the neural interface was fully operational, before asking her to do things like raise her arms, her legs, walk, jump and other actions.
Deciding it best to obey, she did so, feeling the suit as it mimicked her actions with no delay. The thought that the neural interface was literally intercepting nervous system messages intended for her body and using those to direct the suit was not lost on her, but it was too late now. She was in the suit, with some kind of neural implant drilled into her neck, and she had no idea if getting out of said suit was a good idea now.
Sighing, she began looking the suit over more closely, and idly wondered if the health dispenser would work with the suit. Skye then had the amusing experience of being essentially shown an educational video about the 'Praetor Suit', apparently what the suit of armour was called, detailing all the features. Most interestingly was the injector ports located in various locations which could intake useful substances and inject them directly into the user. There was also the 'Trans-Dimensional Slayer Support System', which was basically an infinite inventory.
The belt of the armour had a bunch of intakes ready to grab whatever she wanted whether on the ground or in her hands, and by using the neural interface she could make the output nodes on the armour drop whatever she wanted directly into her hands at any time. How it did this she had no idea, the video didn't go into that much depth, but it displayed a Praetor Suit with a thought bubble thinking about a sword, and a sword appeared. It then thought about the sword vanishing, and the sword disappeared.
She tested this with her pistol, and was pleasantly surprised when it vanished from the ground into thin air. Then when she wanted it, she had it in her right hand. Picking up the health dispenser, she put that in her inventory, then went to the opened crates and stuffed literally all of the contents into her inventory. According to her HUD, the pistol she was carrying was the UAC EMG Sidearm, and it had infinite ammo supposedly.
Smiling, she tested the strength of the Praetor Suit, pushing around the crates and searching them all, finding more food, ammo and medical supplies, but no weapons or anything of that sort. Heading up the stairs, she picked up the shotgun from the hands of the dead body, pulling the pump to check the shell, then ejecting it entirely when she saw it was spent.
Sliding the rack forwards, she swapped it out for her pistol, then glanced around before taking hold of the bottom of the door and pulling upwards, surprising herself as the door rose from the increased strength the suit gave her. Lifting it right up, she stepped through, then bit her lip. If she moved the body, the door would fully close, meaning she couldn't go back if she needed to. But, there was nothing back there anyway, so maybe it was better to do so.
Eventually she decided to push the body out of the way with her boot, then dropping the door with a slam. Opening and closing her fists, she marvelled at the increased strength the suit gave her, getting a reading that told her that the door would have needed a lot of newtons to open it. Taking a few steps forwards, Skye yelped in surprise as an inhuman and clearly alien figure dropped from the ceiling and roared at her.
She snapped her pistol up towards it, screaming as it did something and fired a bolt of something at her which smashed into her face, making her feel like something just punched her right in the nose. The thing, an 'Imp' her HUD helpfully pointed out, then folded itself like it was charging a Kamehameha, during which time she levelled her pistol and fired two shots off, hitting the side of its torso but not its head.
It turned its body and unleashed whatever attack it was preparing, smacking her in the chest and making her choke from the sheer impact, her chest convulsing as she tried and failed to breathe properly. The reason for that became clear when the HUD informed her that the impact had buckled her armour inwards and overcome the impact resistance of the suit. As her eyes met the Imp's own glare, she saw it fire another attack towards her, smacking her right in the face and sending a wave of fire across her vision, just for a moment, before her head snapped back from the impact and her neck broke.
Then her eyes opened.
So, that was a thing.
In regards to the Imp killing Skye, so far all she's seen is the Possessed, who are slow and melee only. Being attacked by an Imp, who has a ranged attack, meant she wasn't nearly ready for it, and while she did fight back, two shots to the torso isn't enough to put it down. That doesn't mean she's going to be easily murdered of course, this was her first time using the Praetor Suit, but she will be having a bit of a steep learning curve.
You have to recall the fact that Skye is actually living this, and fighting literal demons was not exactly what she expected to be doing.
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