BattleForge
Chapter 1 Miles
I woke up strapped to a chair with my head locked straightforward. Panicked, I started to thrash around, even more so when I couldn't see nor clear my eyes! Finally, after a good minute, I got the gunk out of my eyes with some furious blinking. It looked like I was in some sort of cockpit a good distance above the ground, with a dense forest ways off.
I lifted my hands to my helmet, trying to find some way to escape this prison. With great determination, I explored every single centimeter of the helmet. I finally found the spot where the clasps should be; however, in its place was a solid chunk of metal. I desperately started to feel the straps that held down my body. The four corners had a retractor and were connected in the center with a diamond-shaped block of metal. That must have been the release! I felt every last part of the clasp and came up short, it was solid just like the helmet!
Despair coursed through my veins, I tried to find some type of leverage. It shamed me to be this weak, as I could barely shift the straps that held my body in place. My arms felt like noodles, lacking the strength that I once worked so hard for. Still, I strained as much as I could. To my mortification, the straps bit directly into my skin. As I felt myself up, it left me with the impression of a tight vest with tubes that ran through it.
"Calm down, guys!" Bellowed a deep voice that wouldn't have been out of place on an announcer, with a tone that screamed exasperation.
This was starting to get me even more worried. He said 'guys', that meant more people or at least one. I sure hoped it wasn't a bored god putting together a battle royale!
"I leave this place for a few minutes and you two start flipping the fuck out! I mean, I get why you would, Taylor. But you, Miles? Come on! Now we've to deal with this drama instead of my 'Grand Entrance'!" That voice prattled on even after I stopped listening. This person knew my name and had already gotten pissed at me!
Sensing movement, I focused on a person who walked by on thin air. He was dressed up as a cheap entertainer with a face that constantly shifted. No matter what, he just had a slimy look. He walked right to left before I saw him further out going left to right, and he only named two people with no others in view. That had left me with some information on how many people would be here, well, at least two.
He then cleared his voice a few times. "Welcome to my pocket dimension!" Said what, floaty guy? We were in a pocket dimension? If that was true, there would be no escape and was most likely a god or as close as one could get. Not that it mattered when compared to me.
"This is the place you'll call home for a very long time!" My throat seized up. Very. Long. Time. That could mean years or hundreds of years for someone that powerful. My mind whirled with all the terrible possibilities. Some things were worse than death!
"You will be starring in my very own gladiator-like combat and time management program! To entertain me with novel combat, of course!" That definitely could be worse than death or better, It depended on a lot. Like how many times I would have to die a horrible death! Or who I would've to fight...
"You only need to achieve ten wins in a row before you move on! Every battle will be exactly thirty days apart. You will get to do it all, as you will have to do everything with your own two hands! To make it even better, when one of you dies, you both lose!" Ah, this looked to be even worse. Now I would be dependent on another person and them on me. This could lead to a lot of friction and angst if we didn't get along.
"When you die or lose, you will be reset to the very beginning! I always loved time loop stories! Everything will be reset except your bodies. In my opinion, some progress would add something to make it a bit special." He went from bombastic to thoughtful every other sentence. Now we've to be productive while doing the same thing over and over again? This was definitely moving towards a personal hell. An unreachable goal, and all progress lost every time you tried to reach it.
"Now for the special part, I hope you didn't think I would leave you with nothing! That would be so boring! With my incredible power and knowledge, I grant you... CELESTIAL FORGE! My version! 2.0! *Maybe worse edition*" Celestial Forge, that should make things at least a bit more bearable. But wait, Celestial Forge goes on word count. Was I being written? No, stop, that way would lead to more madness! I was my own person! He did say it was his version, so maybe it would be triggered on something else?
"Now, you might be worried about turning old and crusty, but worry not for I've made you ageless as long as you are here within my playground!" Did he also de-age me? That would explain my noodle arms. I was always very skinny until I turned twenty. I pulled my hand into view again and looked for the scar that I had in the meat of my hand. Nothing! So, that meant a new body or a healed one, which also explained the lack of pain in my shoulder.
The whole time he had been walking around in a circle, throwing his arms around with every proclamation. When I looked up from my hand for the next big announcement. He was looking directly at me. It seemed that it would most definitely involve me.
"With how things worked with your selection, Miles Carter received the main Celestial Forge connection. While little miss god killer, Taylor Hebert, has a repurposed tumor that is connected directly to Miles Celestial Forge." Taylor Hebert. Taylor Hebert. I knew that name, it was from Worm. I sure hoped I wasn't going to Worm. The repurposed tumor must be where her power was connected.
"I hijacked the connection with my mystical ROB powers after her impromptu 9mm brain surgery! Now I'm not one to judge, but that probably isn't recommended!" God, this guy was a dick. At least that told me it was after Golden Morning and she no longer had the body jacking power. What was terrible was her being connected to something in my brain! I wasn't okay with that! Was I the shard now? Ha!
So, this could not be my original body, my mind had been connected to and changed! Would I even be who I was before? Nope, I wasn't going down that tunnel. I mentally slammed the 'bury deep' button. It would get dealt with when it wasn't relevant, or I would repress forget about it.
"Miles, you need to get over whatever that was." He said while he flailed his hand at me. I hadn't said anything! With narrowed eyes, I thought, could he read minds?
"Why yes, I can read your puny little minds. Not that I particularly care. No, I won't stop. Yes, you'll have to suck it up. Keep at it, and I'll be even more annoying, Taylor!" Nice, I thought to myself! Maybe the annoyance would keep him off-centered!
"Enough!" He shouted in a way that echoed from every direction. "Here are the rules you will be following. Memorize them or not. I don't care. They will be enforced no matter what. Loophole finders will be eternally damned! That was a warning!" He finished it off by pulling out a notebook and putting on some reading glasses.
Mechs are vehicles that move on legs.
Mechs have to be piloted individually by a sentient.
Has to be classified as a mech to enter the battle.
Miles and Taylor have to be in every battle.
Perks that I don't want you to have been vetoed.
No people perks.
One scheduled battle every thirty days.
Perks are randomly rolled after a battle
To be fair, they were pretty simple rules. Not much to be loopholed around anyway.
"Let's see, did I miss anything?" He flipped through his notebook a few times. Each time he did, he changed the notebook's orientation. I felt like I was being messed with. No way could this guy be a god or a ROB(Random Omnipotent Being).
"Right, right, forget some small things in my infinitely complex plan." The amount of ham and cheesiness could've made a sandwich.
"If you finish my battle arena, you will be sent to the Wormverse! The timeline will be split in the exact moment that Taylor triggers. In my timeline, there will be a Taylor-sized hole in fate, in which I will pop this Taylor in. Miles will be dragged along with their mental connection! Praise me, for I am a genius!" You sure are something… this was turning out to be just the worst.
"I will be taking over Scion's position and disposing of Contessa. Can't have anyone ruining my fun! With my fun accounted for, you guys should enjoy yourselves! Toodles!" With a blinding flash of light, he vanished.
I tried to shake off the confusion and dread that welled up in me by focusing on the mech I would soon be piloting. How to turn it on would be my biggest obstacle. I knew pushing buttons helped, but only the right ones. Not being trained on anything in this cockpit sure put a damper on it. To the left was some sort of lever with a screen above it. Around the screens were numerous buttons that reminded me of pictures taken from airplanes. On the right side was a complicated-looking joystick, covered in buttons with two triggers on the back. Above the joystick were two different screens, both blank. I looked around for anything that could start the reactor. In the corner, there was a caution tag next to a glass-covered box at the bottom of a panel of buttons. In my not so great mental state, it seemed like a great idea.
As I pressed the button, a sudden lurch forced me deeper into the already hard chair. The view outside sped past as I ascended higher and higher into the sky. That was definitely the ejection button. My stomach launched itself into my throat as the thrust was cut. Another lurch caught me, this time I could only guess that it was the parachute.
The way I slowly drifted to the ground let me take in the arena that we were in. The center held a meadow and there were two mechs standing there. Spread around it was a pitch-black dense forest. Outside that stood impossibly sheer, tall mountains that pierced the sky.
I couldn't believe that I screwed up so massively already! The pressure was already starting to mount, I never did well in these situations! A sense of failure started to fill me, that served to stress me all the more. A need to do better consumed me. I was the weak link! But not for much longer, I vowed to myself! As the cockpit settled gently onto the ground.
My vision glazed over with the never-ending view of trees. As the shadows moved, I resigned myself to a long wait.
"What are you doing down there? Are you some kind of idiot?" The words shocked me from the half-daze I was in.
"I don't know how to pilot this thing!" I vented at the source of my misery.
"Ahh, that might be my fault. More entertainment! Or outtakes." He pulled out his notebook. I then heard him mutter to himself. "Remember to start Celestial Forge. Underline, Underline, exclamation mark, circle, circle. Give perks, or it won't be fun, underline." I facepalmed my helmet when I realized who was controlling everything. To have forgotten something with the importance of Celestial Forge left me stupefied. Could I've caused this by being so annoying?
"Don't worry, my dudes! ROB is on the case!" I got even more worried after hearing that. The man snapped his fingers and my cockpit was back to where I started. I felt nothing with that teleport; no vertigo, tingling, or anything.
As I wondered about the teleport, I felt something poke my brain. 'Ahh, yes, this goes here and this plugs into that. Don't forget to give this part a good slap!' I then went cross-eyed. 'Now things look right! We're good to go! Two uncomfortable seconds later, the fingers were pulled out of my mind.
Stars suddenly got crammed into my head before I could even blink. Thousands of dark stars suddenly were a part of my mind, but unreachable. A star was then illuminated and brought down. I felt the smaller star settle in and send a copy of itself away.
Trained Technician (Battletech) (100CP)
You may not understand why this works, but you can make it work and fix it when it doesn't. Pick one sort of mechanical system (BattleMechs) and you can repair it as long as you've minimal access to parts and tools.
I now understood everything about mechs. Well, not how they were made, but how I would repair them. I could change out the reactor, but not make one. This mech could easily go hundreds of years with only limited maintenance. A true testament to the rugged construction. Every joint, plate, bolt, and cable became known to me, if briefly. That seemed to be this guy's M.O. Give us enough to entertain him but not enough to be easy.
I looked around the cockpit with my newfound knowledge. Every button's function was whispered to me, but only if I concentrated on it. That wouldn't do for combat! I would've to practice and get trained on everything.
The reactor whirled to life with the press of a button. A nondescript and unlabeled button that I would never have guessed.
My limited view from the helmet suddenly widened with a complete field of vision around the mech; compressed into my peripheral. It showed a mech that was a perfect match of my own just to the right. The mechs Taylor and I were stuck into were Roughnecks; a converted industrial design I was supplied. A 120mm auto-cannon was mounted on the right shoulder, I could see the barrel of my own from the viewport. It lacked firepower for sure, but it would make a nice stopgap.
My comms crackled for a second before I heard Taylor. "H-hello? C-can you h-h-ear me?" Her weak voice stuttered out, almost as if she had a hard time forming the right sounds.
A voice that I couldn't help but feel the undercurrent of distrust. No doubt she expected me to betray her eventually. She saved the world, only to be executed and then spirited away, destined to be a god's entertainment.
I pressed my comm button with a small hope of setting a good impression. "Hello. It seems we are in a bit of a sticky situation." A few minutes later, with no response received, I refused to let it dissuade me.
I needed to get a better view of the mechs we drove, only to make sure it was real. Even after all that had happened, I still needed some reassurance.
The mech took a lumbering step forward with a push of the throttle. It was a smooth step, which surprised me all the more. With a twist of the joystick, the mech turned to the side and brought the viewport around, facing Taylor's mech. The mech looked like it could survive anything with the absolute ruggedness that it embodied. Even though I couldn't see Taylor through the polarized cockpit, I could imagine the disapproving look she could be giving me.
The mech stood an amazing thirteen meters tall and weighed only sixty-five tons. Each arm was a large hydraulic pincer, which no doubt carried over from when it was an industrial mech design. The left shoulder had an SRM-4 missile pod. It looked improper for sure! The pod was as large as the 120mm auto-cannon, but only fired four small missiles. Man-portable missiles.
"I know this is quick, but we've got to get started immediately. I doubt the guy is going to leave us alone for long!" I communicated to Taylor. With the view I had earlier, this appeared to be a tutorial area. The forest that surrounded us was too thick for us to move through in a timely manner. It constrained us to the same general area, tactically.
"We'll talk f-face to face-" With a great rasp she finished "-when we a-are done." That sounded quite foreboding.