Apologies for my late upload. I got distracted by Halo Infinite...the campaign is fun. Onto the next part.

...

The next thing he remembered was the ringing and the smell. The god-awful smell of blood, spent ammunition, and rubble clouded him. Then, he remembered the kiss and found the resolve to stand up but first, he had to clear the rubble off him. Thankfully, his arms weren't pinned at his sides and he was able to breathe.

He tried to call out on comms, "Boss? Kendrick? Marcy? Eve?" All he received was static. Pushing a rock off of him, he found he could get his footing. That was the easy part. The next part was making sure everything still worked. His equipment and himself. Thankfully, the gauntlet on his left wrist worked just fine, and if there was any damage, it was superficial and he could fix it if it wasn't. The first pain he found was in his back. Right...the grenade. Probably got shrapnel wounds that could get infected, and I really hope there is a doctor around. Someone better be alive.

He tried again to contact someone but there was no one to be found. Cameron took one long look at his surroundings, trying to judge where he was. It turns out, he was at the western side of the Jackals main complex. Meaning, the front entrance was close by. Once he fully freed himself from the rubble, he did his mandatory checks. Which resulted in finding out he had probably sprained his ankle, potentially fractured his tibia—the front bone in one's leg—or crippled himself in some capacity that he's unaware of.

He rounded the corner, his Wingman in hand, to see the carnage and it damn near broke him. There was blood everywhere. It was on the walls, the floors, the ceiling. Body parts were everywhere, mercilessly sliced off. He limped inside and looked around for a clue, for something on their attackers. How the fuck did they know we were planning on leaving?

Cameron continued to think about it as he searched until he saw a logo. This logo was one that had come up recently in the news. This was the work of the corporation that was buying up everything years ago. A police force of some kind? That was the problem. They didn't know much about this place. It could be a shell company for all Cameron knew.

The search continued.

For every Jackal body, he found it was another person marked for death too soon. For every non-Jackal body he found, he stabbed them in the heart. He would have gone further below but that was something even he wouldn't wish on his worst enemy. These people were human...but why the hell does it not feel like it? They bleed the same, they breathed—presumably—the same, and they died the same. So, what the hell does it mean? Cameron continued counting bodies until he heard movement.

His Wingman was in his hand pointing at whatever moved. His eyes searched more and then widened to see the Boss, bleeding out. She was alive, but not for much longer. There was a literal hole in her torso. "Mom?!" He called. She smiled, knowing her end was coming. "Mom, did someone sell us out?" He got a nod, so she knew. "Was it that sleeper?" A head shake. "Did you see anyone else? Did anyone else survive?" Her response was to pull him close and hug him, rubbing his head.

"I'm sorry…" he said after they parted from their hug. Blood smeared on his outfit, but he cared not. She shook her head and smiled, as a tear fell from her eye, and then it closed.

Then...nothing.

Just like that, everything he knew, his found family was gone. Instead of crying, he was laughing. A man went mad. "Don't worry, I'll kill them all! You'll see…I'm sorry that I couldn't save any of you." I'll get them back, Mom, I swear it. Reaching down, he grabbed a necklace from her neck, a keepsake she always carried, and now he will carry the torch.

Cameron left the Jackals Headquarters to fully see the carnage. It was not a pretty sight to see, and it made turning his back on it all the more sickening. The surrounding buildings were leveled, and no one cared about this section of the city anyway. It was all ghettos. The central part of the city could give two shits.

However, it felt like a pyrrhic victory. No one really won. He put his Wingman away and slipped into the night. The memories stung in his mind, remembering all the jokes, parties, and good times they shared. The bad times too, but even those were better than the sight before him. Just before he left the area, he noticed a sparking chassis. They fucking brought a Titan?! Who the hell funded it? Cameron approached the sparking monstrosity and noticed a few things. Well, time to put my limited technical knowledge to the test.

A Tone Chassis? Cameron knew the Titans on sight, thanks to time researching the Ion chassis. If they only brought one of you, then we definitely had enough firepower to bring it down. This begs the question: Are there more in the area? With that thought in the forefront of his mind, he ducked behind the first piece of cover he could find, which just so happened to be a chunk of the entrance.

The pain from his injuries were reminding him that they were still very much present and annoying. Okay, first things first, make it out of here, find out where the hell these people came from, and finally...kill them all.

Sounds easy, right? Hell no.

Cameron stayed there for hours until dusk hit the world. Now was an appropriate time to move. The Crimson Juggernaut was still alive and kicking, and the Outlands would soon know his name, one way or another.

Cameron killed them all. He didn't care for the consequences. He didn't care as long as he avenged his family. It took him over three months to scout, corner, and kill every last one of them. That was where he found himself in that same alley from what felt like a lifetime ago. A single Wingman bullet in the chamber. It was raining, just like that night. Irony has a way of playing me.

I did it, Boss, I avenged you. I avenged you all...and now I'll rot in hell for what I've done. I'm sure there's a spot for me right next to the Devil.

Little did Cameron know, he gained quite the admirer. "You know, you can do betta."

He pulled the Wingman away from his chin, "Who the fuck are you?"

"A man offering you a second chance to use those skills of yours, Crimson Juggernaut," the mystery man said. Peering into the darkness, Cameron saw an elder man, a well-armored elderly man. Knives were in sheaths on his chest, a weapon to his waist and thigh.

"What can you possibly offer me, old man? I got all I need here," a casual wave of his Wingman. "My job is done and now I can join them in hell."

The elder man tsked, "I happen to know of a place where you can run wild with your toys and get paid for it." The man took out a card from his armor and tossed it at Cameron's feet. "Use that to contact me if you want. Otherwise, you can just be another body on the street."

He bent down and picked up the card, "Just who the hell are you?"

"Name's Blisk."

Now that was a name that made Cameron truly consider this, along with a slight look of disbelief. Once Blisk saw the glint in the Reaper's eyes, he knew he had him. "Didn't think you'd still be alive, former Apex Predator," Cameron chuckled. "You bastards just up and disappeared after the War."

"So you've heard?"

A demented laugh, "Sure, let's go, I was thinking of ending it tonight, but a chance to continue without repercussions? That's a no-brainer." Hope you can wait for me a little bit longer, Mom. I'll make you and the Jackals proud.

"Sorry, you want me to do what?" Cameron looked at Blisk with utter disbelief.

"That's my condition for you to join the rosta," Blisk explained with a casual shoulder shrug. "The higher-ups want you after I personally went to get ya, Juggernaut. Word got 'round that you went on a killin' spree, and they see ratings. Personally, I see potential."

As flattering as that was, there was always a catch, something that the Boss told him

For context, Cameron had joined Blisk to get off-world and headed to Solace. Aka, the planet where those Apex Games were, the ones that a few members of the Jackals were watching days before they died. Yeah, that Solace. In order for Cameron to be accepted as a Legend. He needed to do one thing. The same thing that every Legend has done. Make a trailer.

Not like the things they haul back in olden times. Like a short film demonstrating his abilities so that way, he's not going in with an advantage. "Is this really what everyone did?"

Blisk knocked on a screen and Cameron was proven that everyone really did make a trailer. Well...shit.

"Fine, but it's only going to be a couple minutes, nothing flashy, and I swear if they over-exaggerate me...I will have a present delivered to their home address. Blisk smirked.

"Like the attitude, now, have you ever worn a jumpkit before?" Blisk took pleasure in seeing the dubious fear in Cameron's eyes.

He thought about it, "How bad's the learning curve?" Blisk only chuckled before throwing a knife idly in the air. He swore he heard him say, 'We'll make a Legend out of you yet, Maverick.'

If that was going to be his moniker in the arena...he didn't see a problem. Turning to his right, a corridor open and there was a whole team of people ready and waiting. The eggheads, or the scientists, were all ready to put him in a jumpkit. Wordlessly, he walked over to them and shook their hands, if only to be respectful.

Cameron knew basic manners if Mom taught him anything. Wait, basic manners in gang terms means stabbing a motherfucker before he could stab you… welp...that wasn't going to help here.

Nevertheless, he had to get his trailer ready, and he would either love it or hate it. There was no such thing as a middle ground.

So, given a few days, he was called into the firing range, which was this giant open area that had targets spread out as far as he could see. The weapons that would be 'dropped' into the arena were there, along with armaments, attachments, medical items, the whole nine yards. Oddly enough, there was this combat bow…

Blisk had been the one to escort him there after he got associated with his jumpkit. "So, what now?"

"Right now, Maverick?" Blisk scoffed, "Go nuts, get used to this because you won't have a thing when you drop." Then, he left.

Cameron took a pregnant moment to observe himself and his surroundings. There is something going on here… He wanted to think on it more but decided that it wasn't worth the time. He peered down at the items...at the bottom of the slope. "Why the hell am I put back here?" He turned to see if Blisk was still there...and he's gone. Figures.

Without much pretense, Cameron slid down the slope, standing upright by the weapons that were classified as Light Ammo weapons. An R-301, R-99, G7 Scout, Alternator, RE-45, and P2020. Those didn't interest him. He went over to the Heavy Ammo weapons. The Spitfire, 30-30 Repeater, Hemlock, Prowler Burst PDW, Flatline, and the Wingman. Again, not interested.

Cameron straight up skipped the Sniper Ammo weapons, as he wasn't one for long-range engagements. The Shotgun Ammo types though...now they were speaking his language. The Eva-8 was a great rapid-fire gun, moderate in magazine size, a set spread. He would test that later. The Mozambique...he's heard some mixed reviews on the thing. Getting the Hammerpoint hop-up will do wonders. The Mastiff was something he wouldn't touch. Now, the Peacekeeper…

Oh, come to papa.

The sleek level-action design of a shotgun, that...get this...uses energy-based projectiles means that he can use his gauntlet and chest accessory to make the bullets do even more damage. Kind of his passive thing, as the Legends have each of their own. The next thing was to pick up another weapon. So, he wandered over to the Energy Ammo weapons and found an L-Star. Grabbing that weapon and ammo, Cameron went to the actual grounds now.

This is a perfect time to test to see how much damage I can pump out with these. If I reroute the energy from my gauntlet, at let's say...ten percent...does that make it do more damage? Not an ability, but just...using my resources appropriately. Cameron smirked, feeling proud of himself.

The best part was that he could set himself a trial. So, he did. At first, he did an easy one to get a feel for where the D.U.M.M.I.E.S—blank canvas robots—spawn. The L-Star has a strong recoil pattern and an overheat timer, which Cameron learned how to fix because he almost burned his hands once or twice. As for his test, he found it did do slightly more damage, but only by a few points, dependent on the area he aimed for. The head, obviously, was more noticable. The torso was only a few points; like one or two. The limbs weren't any different, like no change, which kinda made sense.

To combat the stress, he pulled out another cigarette and calmly inspected the weapon over and over. Once he spent three minutes looking at it, he started testing out his abilities. The jumpkit worked as designed but it was obviously limited in its movements, which was fair. Can't have it be a Pilot simulator all over again. I really should research the history of these Games. Food for thought.

Cameron was far from being adept at what he was doing, but if anyone saw him, they would see a child-like grin on his face, a grin that reminded him of happier days. Shit really is moving too fast. The necklace that he keeps on his person was burning a hole in his pocket. Mom…

Thinking about that, his hand went to his knife, his Vibroknife. He took that out of its sheath, flicked a switch and what do you know, it vibrated. Finding a target, he stabbed it and watched its health drop...oh...this was going to be fun.

He spent the next few hours there, fine-tuning his style. After inspecting the area, he wanted to have some fun. He amped up the settings of the defense turrets—because why the hell not have those—because the best place to learn is under live fire. It worked in the Jackals, so why not here?

Checking his wrist and chest once more, he started the simulation and grinned. Taking a long drag of his cigarette, shouldering his weapons, and securing them, he stepped out into the line of fire and activated his fancy shield.

At a completely different location, there sat seventeen different people around multiple screens. Some were in disbelief, some were in awe, and some didn't care. The man himself, Blisk, stood in the background of all of them, "So, what do you lot think of lil' Maverick here?" Blisk brandished a knife as he sipped on his drink, thanks to a certain trickster.

"You named him Free Spirit?" a woman of what looked to be of Spanish descent said. "He did kind of go overkill on that."

"That technology wasn't anything new…" a woman with a scarf covering her neck said, her blue eyes staring intently at the screen. They went to Blisk's, "That's Titan Technology, from the War."

"Aye," Blisk didn't bother denying it.

"In any case, his footwork is terrible, and the way he haphazardly handles his weapons are going to get him killed," a woman with shaved sides and an afro atop her head said. "That knife is certainly interesting though."

"What I want ta know is how he didn't burn himself with that last flourish, Anita," a woman with twin buns said.

"Perhaps I could have a conversation with him about the technology," A woman with blonde hair said, a scar adorning the left side of her face.

In order, that was Loba Andrade, Renee Blasey, Anita Williams, Ajay Che, and Natalie Paquette. Callsigns Loba, Wraith, Bangalore, Lifeline, and Wattson respectively.

"S-Sure, the new kid's got some moves, but he hasn't proved anything yet," Elliott Witt said, the bumbling, lovable idiot of the Legends said. Callsign Mirage.

"Wherever this city slicker got the equipment doesn't mean a thing, he hasn't ever piloted one of those things," a woman with silky white hair said, her orange jumpsuit clinging to her form. However, even she was scrutinizing this 'Maverick'.

"Careful, little Viper," Blisk said, "he just might surprise ya." The man was addressing was Kairi Imahara, where her late father once worked under Kuben Blisk. Begrudgingly, she put that aside.

"Oh, he's definitely got my interest," a woman of Indian descent said, her piercings and hair shown in a classic style of her culture.

Blisk found this worth taking away his drink from his mouth, "Oh?" The man smirked, already knowing why.

"No one can block that many bullets and shrug it off," the woman continued. In her eyes glazed a challenge and she would make him respond.

"Ramya," Renee said, "That's what the Vortex Shield is for. It may be old, outdated technology, but it works."

"I sometimes forget you were a pilot scientist, Blasey," Ramya said. This woman was known for getting scrap parts and modding them into weapons. After all, her darling Sheila is one of those modded weapons. She still mods it. Rayma Parekh, callsign Rampart.

An eerie voice crawled up everyone's spines, even making Renee shift in front of Natalie protectively. A fact not unnoticed by the ex-Predator. "He's just another skinsuit, nothing special."

"Who won last time?" Ramya smirked, looking directly in the direction of the voice, "That's right, me and my squad, mate. So, you don't got a leg to stand on, Revenant."

The thing identified as a simulacrum shifted his metallic body, snorting. There wasn't a retort which made Ramay snicker in victory.

"Another hunter the Gods have sent us," a masked person said from the back of the room. Bloodhound, the Frontier's greatest hunter. Not much is known about them, as their real face and name have yet to be revealed. "Rough around the edges, but nonetheless, room for improvement."

"Hey, what about you, Crypto?" Elliott asked a man in a white and green-accented jacket, a drone hovering over his shoulder.

"Meh, if it's another weakling, don't pair him with me," the man named Crypto said. He could care less, it was just another opponent.

"I reckon that we could share a drink or a smoke or two," a man with a metallic arm said as he rubbed the mustache on his lip. "He seems to like smoking."

"It's a bad habit, Walter," Ajay said, chiding the elder man. "I'll needa word with the new blood about it."

Walter, apparently, took offense to that. To Ajay, she knew he was joking, after all, she helped him with Maggie, "How dare you!" he exclaimed pointing a metal finger at her. Those observing noticed the faint grin that Walter struggled to hide.

Everyone then jumped into their own conversations, except for one person who was just a little too excited at who was going to join them. "Che, look! He's fast, but not faster than me, but do you see this?! If this is how he is now, wait until I introduce him to my jump pad! That laser raining from av-"

"Silva, calm down," Ajay said, pacifying her old friend. "He's not even confirmed ta be in the Games."

"Come on, Che!" Octavio Silva whined, "The number of tricks we could do…" he trailed off once he saw Ajay's 'I'll take away your legs if you continue' look. Octavio Silva was the adrenaline thrill-seeker, callsign Octane.

There were a few people who have not spoken or are just not present. Alexander Nox, callsign Caustic. The doctor was holed up in his room, doing some experiment, watching the feed. "That technology could be useful. I must observe."

Another pair of Legends was sitting outside, watching on a screen to their left. "Dearie looks ready, but he has seen things out there, wouldn't you agree, Makoa?"

"I must agree, Doctor, brudda has got some skeletons in his closet. He'll fit in just fine," the giant man, Makoa Gilbraltar said. "Hey, where's Pathfinder?"

Dr. Mary Somers, callsign Horizon, looked around, and of course, didn't see the MRVN unit anywhere. Oh dear, he's gone off and done something again.

Elsewhere on the complex, a man was relaxing. Obi Edolasim, Callsign Seer, opened his eyes. "Oh, a boon? Let's see where this goes." The sound of a grappling hook caught his attention, "and there he goes…this season will be a fortunate one, yes?"

Cameron was pulled aside with Blisk after his training session. Considering he was left alone until the next day, he hadn't seen another person since getting his jumpkit oriented. "So? How'd I do?"

Blisk smirked with a gleam in his eyes, "Listen for yourself." Blisk slipped a device into Cameron's hand, and the voices of the other Legends emitted from it.

"I should be upset that you recorded that, but I also should have expected such a treacherous thing coming from you, ex-Predator," Cameron said sarcastically. He turned his attention away from Blisk, not listening to his response. If there was one anyway.

Looking and listening to all of the compliments and insults, he shrugged. "Why the hell should I care?" He was then given a room, slightly out of the way from the other Legends. Well shit, am I considered a Legend or is there some trial by fire bullshit I'm going to have to deal with?

Once he settled into the blank canvas that was called a room, he pulled out the necklace he took from his mother. The Boss always wore the damn thing and he never figured out why. There were times he was looking and she caught him doing so, but she never reprimanded him for it. So, why the hell was she wearing it? It seemed to just have sentimental value to her, as it does to him now. Now that he looked at the necklace, he could see a faint outline of something on it.

Squinting his eyes, "Something something...kick arse?" Well, that's weird. I haven't heard of that before...but it must've meant something to her. Maybe a keepsake from a friend. Cameron then stashed the necklace back in his pocket. He then stood and began fiddling with the setting on his wrist. It was something he noticed during his training, it would flash for a moment. Does this have something to do with the core?

The core of WT-4568 was a part of the design in the equipment. It...she...has never tried to communicate and he never trashed the thing. In fact, it was in his bag of stuff that he managed to bring with him. Not very much, given the time constraint he was given. It sucked leaving a lot of his old keepsakes behind, but if he brought them with him, he'd only be reminded of the pain.

A chime brought him out of thoughts, "Oi, new blood." Blisk.

"Sup, old timer?" Cameron retorted.

"Keep talking like that, and you might find out that this 'old-timer' can still kick your arse. Now, get moving, you're about to debut," Blisk said, which got Cameron's attention. "Now, get to the edge of the complex, the map will update you. After that, don't expect me to hold ya hand, Maverick."

Who pissed in his drink this time? Cameron thought to himself as he was indeed being guided by the facility, it seems, to get to his destination. At this point, he wondered what the hell was going to happen. As he ran, he made sure to grab everything valuable, that being his knife, the necklace, and his equipment. There was a small feeling that he'll need it.

So, imagine Cameron's surprise when he made it to the room, only for it to open and be met with all of the Legends. His grip tightened on his shield, waiting for the attacks. Throwing on his shades, he stepped out confidently but not arrogantly. I would probably be able to take maybe one or two of them, and that's not counting most of the females. They can aim for the cheap spot. "This seems fun…"

"Oh, he does speak," one of them commented, a woman in a white jacket and red makeup surrounding her eyes.

"And you're a famous thief," he retorted. What? News travels fast in the Frontier. Of course he knows who Loba Andrade is.

The woman, Loba, flipped one of her twin pigtails behind her, "Finally, some recognition."

"So you know some of us?" Elliott asked, pointing up and down the line.

Cameron saw no reason to not respond. "Some of my old friends and family used to watch the games." Scanning the crowd, "One of them really like you." He pointed at Octavio.

"Me?"

"That's right, you," Cameron confirmed. "So, how's this going down, because if it's all you against me, I might as well throw in the towel for myself. I don't have a rat's chance in hell against all of you." Even though he was charging his laser core in case that was the case.

Ramya laughed, "Oh, I like this one, mates. Knows where his limits are unlike someone here." Her gaze was pointed at Elliott.

"W-Wha, hey! I know my limits too. You don't have to be so obn- ob- rude about it," Elliott stuttered.

Then a robot was in front of Cameron, "Hello friend! Would you like to be friends?" The orange eye of the MRVN unit was, of course, unblinking. The screen in the center of his chest was lit up with a hopeful expression.

First generation MRVN? Second? Hmm… "What's your designation?" Clearly, the other Legends didn't expect that, since no one asked. Also because Pathfinder told them already. Pathfinder said his...its(?)...designation and Cameron nodded. "Haven't seen you guys since the end of the War."

His eyes once more scanned the crowd and saw Anita's stature, "Miss Soldier and I are going to have problems in the future, I can see that shit now…"

Anita only rolled her eyes, "Get in line, soldier, you're not the first to say that."

Cameron found the banter easygoing, but he refused to let his guard down. "So, why the hell are we gathered here today? Is it someone's wedding and I missed the RSVP?" he shot with blatant sarcasm.

A couple snickers, and groans, were heard. "No, you lot are going to have a game." Cameron looked over his shoulder to see Blisk, and then multiple business people. These must be the head honchos.

"A Game…" Why the hell does this sound like something out of a stupid horror movie? Since Cameron would much rather not have to deal with people as much as he has to, he kept his mouth shut. Since they were here, he let the charge dissipate from his core, letting out steam from his chest, because of the build up of heat. Pathfinder, the MRVN, did not change his expression, so if he knew of it, then he didn't say anything. The action drew the eyes of the remaining Legends to him, to which he avoided. If they saw the video, they knew what he was doing.

Can't blame the guy, Rayma thought, still wanting to see how Sheila will match against his shield.

"That's right, a Game. Since there are now eighteen of you elite Legends, there are now six squads. The map has been limited to what it would be on round two, just to speed up the process," Blisk explained. "I'll let this lot take over, make it a good show, would ya?" Something told Cameron that Blisk was talking to him with that one.

One of the businessmen stepped forward, "Welcome to the one hundred and twenty-ninth season of the Apex Games. Since the official launch isn't until three days from now, this is only for private purposes. This will not count on any of your records." Cameron didn't fail to notice some signs of relief from the crowd. He stepped off to the side of them all, keeping them in his peripheral vision.

He failed to notice one of them eyeing him more than the others, a finger on her chin, head tilted. Her eyes went to the gadget on his wrist, if it held off all those rounds, I wonder what the limit is. Seriously, it's a piece of ancient tech! She wanted to get her hands on it to tinker with it, see what makes it tick. It's the mechanic in her blood.

She completely missed the explanation until the rookie—she hadn't learned his name yet—was calling out to her. "Apparently, you're with Wattson and Lifeline...whoever they are," he murmured under his breath.

To be fair, Cameron didn't even know any of the Legends at all because he never held interest in the Games. His duties in the Jackals held slightly more priority. The well-being of the gang was more important. And look where it got me, in the Games themselves. If that isn't irony, I don't know what is.

Cameron's own squadmates for this mock Game were Octane and Mirage. Judging by the waves from the duo standing outside the ship, that meant it was probably them. Adjusting his shades, he walked as casually as he could over, ignoring the predatory stares of the other Legends. They'll be in for a surprise if they try me. I don't fight clean, and I expect they don't either.

Boarding the ship, he found where his future squadmates were sitting and sat close by. "Nice to meet you, kiddo, name's Mirage in the arena. Outside of it, just call me Elliott." HE held his hand out to shake.

Cameron looked at it like it was a foreign object. "Is he always like this?" Not surprising to hear a lot of yeses. Not wanting to be rude, he shook Elliott's hand, "Cameron Mason."

"All aboard the Octrain!" Octavio shouted. Some just rolled their eyes, none more so than Ajay.

Cameron was content to sit and wait for the Game to start, after all, they had to fly over Kings' Canyon. Hmm, I just realized something. If he's Mirage, and he's Octane, and I'm Maverick...does that make us team M.O.M? Cameron cursed his childish nature shining through, along with a stab of pain, his mind flashing back to his mother bleeding out in front of him. The smile became a scowl. The tension in his frame was enough to be noticed but not enough to be called out.

"Quick question to you, Mav," someone said. It was Anita, or Bangalore. "Ever jump out of a ship before?"

"Color me intrigued," he responded after a moment. Right...never paid attention to that. Welp, time to eat shit on the first jump.