Chapter 5: One Furious Crab

Khalsin gasped, feeling his stomach rise to his lungs, a sense of absolute terror and delighted thrill pulsing through his every vein. Plummeting rapidly downwards, hearing the night itself whiz by with a blustery roar in his ears, the swiftly growing intensity of the bubbly rumbling of the stream and the raspy chorus of crickets from the surrounding grass. His gaze was centered only ahead he could nor would see nothing else. Khalsin squinted as not to be hurt by the air rushing by. The crisp hint of dryness made it the kind of night one could only see near Romeo city. He clenched his arms to his sides as he fell, trying to stay straight, and found the few seconds between cliff and stream to be an agonizingly slow wait. He seemed unable to reach the river as it dragged him downwards, closing the gap between them with blinding speed while moving faster and faster as the cool night air whistled in his ears. He yearned to finally reach his target, for the horror of the moment to end, as seconds passed like days and his senses closed to everything but the fall, the rushing, blurred images constantly flitting by with ever passing instance. Suddenly, the sickening sensation of freefall transformed into a delightful feeling of escape, of freedom, of flight and weightlessness. Gunshots rang out; deep, hollow and airy thuds as photon bolts were launched from the glossy nozzles of the many rifles; bright yellow projectiles whizzing past him, impacting the stream with loud crackles and followed by a furious hissing fizz from the stream as the smoldering bolts of energy struck it. The soldiers would stop at nothing to halt his escape. The flickering barrage of vicious photon fire continued all through the descent. Khalsin gritted his teeth as a bolt grazed his arm, leaving a long, cauterized wound up near his elbow a flashing sense that his flesh was aflame. It was minor, but the pain was a burning sting that seemed to creep up to his shoulder, making him shiver as he stared forward and tried frantically to distract himself. He longed to reach the stream as he plummeted, to move as fast as the bolts. The soldiers continued to fire, but it was too late.
With a heavy, painfully jarring impact and an explosive splash, pilot met water. The cool, moonlit water chilled him with a refreshing frigidity, seeming to revitalize him from both the scalding wound and the slick humidity of the forest, an escape from scorching temperatures and the general mugginess of the forest. The heavy impact had knocked the wind from his lungs and Khalsin struggled briefly as he plunged into the water, his legs suddenly curling at an odd angle, the immense force of the collision spinning him in a fluid circle, his arms trailing behind as his body was manipulated by the rushing stream. He strained to correct his skewed sinking path and thrashed furiously with his arms before feeling himself smack heavily against something hard and smooth, something cold and metallic. A deep, hollow, resounding thud echoed through the water, distorted badly, sounding more like the furious bellow of some undersea creature. Khalsin's lungs burned intensely for air, without oxygen his vision had become blurry and slowly darkened by the second. He looked around, as fear crept slowly up his spine, the chilling horror of death by suffocation, of simply being smothered beneath gallon after gallon of water. He flailed desperately, clawing at the cool, fluid water, feeling it slowly tugging him downstream as he kicked his legs with abandon. He wanted only to taste air, only to escape. He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to abandon his panic, and instead to think. Khalsin felt with his hands towards the bottom, touching the same cold, metallic surface. He braced his feet against it, nearly being pulled off of them again by the current, and kicked off as hard as he could. He could feel the water rushing by as his eyes burned with the cold water's contact and seared his already ailing vision as he felt himself losing consciousness. His head felt as if it were going to burst, a sharp, stinging pain raging through his temples. The surface was so close, he could see the bright green glow of Zi's two moons, distorted through the waves, their jade light more visible in the water and seeming to reach down at him like welcoming arms. His eyes could make out little more than the pillars of green light seeming to pull him to the surface, benevolent guides in a black abyss of pain and emptiness. He could feel his chest nearly collapsing as his muscles burned, unable to properly function without air.
Khalsin felt himself suddenly burst up to the surface, suddenly inhaling with a frantic gasp, letting out a deep-throated bellow as the air rushed in, vibrating through his throat and vocal chords. He panted heavily, his lightly muscled arms abruptly seizing one of the jagged stones, clinging to it for dear life, an iron grip to save mortal life. His previously erect, deep violet hair now hung limp and pinned firmly down to his head in a smooth, rounded, dome-like form. Much of this hung near his eyes, dripping heavy cascades of the chilled liquid down his face. Khalsin he quickly raised a hand and in one jerky movement brushed the sopping wet strands from his eyes, before returning his arm around the rock. His grey eyes, now bright pink with irritation, glanced about briefly as he continued to pant, his chest heaving beneath the soaking wet green long sleeved shirt. The sleeves had become unrolled during the ordeal, and now hung, limp and heavy around his wrists. The pilot's teeth chattered quietly even as his jaw hung open, eagerly gulping at the air. The pain in his lungs remained as his legs slowly slid forward, pulled along by the current. He could feel his feet being tugged upon tentatively by the weakened current, the constant motion of the surrounding water. Khalsin glanced up towards the soldiers, as another one let out a cry, pointing towards him with one heavy, black-gloved hand. The many green-lit faces abruptly moved to gaze at him and he could see the three glowing lenses focusing in on his ragged form, clinging helplessly to a riverbed stone.
The soldiers jogged swiftly as a group into a new formation at the other side of the cliff. They crouched down, pinning their rifles firmly to their shoulders, looking down the barrels as red beads danced about the boulder, his savior and only shelter against the river's torment. The last soldier stood above them, signaling abruptly with one hand as the others promptly opened fire with their rifles. Photon shells shrieked through the air with high pitched, shrill howls, impacting the water around him with the same raging hisses. The water suddenly increased dramatically in temperature, as Khalsin bit his lip anxiously, ducking behind the rock for cover, the pilot clinging to the enormous grey form for dear life. He could feel his grip slowly slipping along its slick form, before lunging forward again to hug it more powerfully, feeling his ribcage almost crushed against its great mass. Khalsin cringed as another wailing shower of photon shells came in a sudden burst, pummeling the rock as bits and pieces scattered off of it, the huge bulk slowly being blown to pieces. He cried out as a ripping pain tore swiftly across the back of his hand, a sharp chunk of rock having soared by and sliced his flesh. The pilot gritted his teeth to withstand the pain of the new wound, squinting his eyes as foamy water continually burst up against his face. He knew he wouldn't last much longer under this barrage. One of them, either he or the boulder, was going to be destroyed. He had to think of a plan of escape. His adventure could not end here, not now.
Khalsin shivered a little, before his determined smirk quietly spread across his pale, sharp features again. The stone-faced boy shook his head a bit, before suddenly releasing himself from the rock and going limp, letting himself be carried downstream. The soldiers fire abruptly stopped as the blood from his hand and arm spread out into the water. Khalsin let himself float upside down, as the water slowly turned red around him due to the blood trickling from his hand and arm. He let his arms raise up slightly above his shoulders, feeling a sudden tension in his shoulders, yet the sweet, relaxing calm of being carried along the river. The cool water rushed by him, gently ushering him along the brook's curves, a soothing tempo of movement, starkly contrasting the burning effort of clinging to the rock he had endured moments before. He could now rest, despite the unnerving feel of having his head underwater. He shivered, but struggled frantically to keep still. He was dead. He must remember this, he was but a corpse. After floating for some time, he slowly leaned to one side, letting himself roll to the side as if his body had simply done so on its own. Next he paddled strongly with one arm but in a surreptitious motion, letting out a grunt as the smooth, cool water continued to carry him along. He suddenly yanked himself under with this same rolling motion, feeling the familiar sense of the river surrounding him, its fluid, sparkling beauty caressing every inch of his form. Using the one gasp of breath he had obtained just before his descent, Khalsin began to swim forcefully upstream, gritting his teeth with effort as his entire body worked towards his purpose.
Was this insanity? The question seemed to send a shock through his mind. He thought a moment with his eyes squinted from the burning of the water, feeling his hair float about him as he continued to move back upstream. Khalsin fought to gain ground against the rivers current, and assured himself he would not relent. His muscles worked constantly, pumping with vigor while his legs kicked frantically and arms lead the way, rowing with raw determination as he moved. He continued on for adventure, for the sheer thrill, the feel of it. Experience, new experience, danger, excitement the thick, lightheaded pleasure of it all. A dance with death. His corpse stunt could just have easily had let him escape. Khalsin smirked beneath the waves. Yes, this was insanity. Sweet, sweet insanity, it was the true fire for his passion, the flame that forged his courage, his strength. Khalsin shivered a little as he squinted into the watery void before him, continuing constantly on despite the burning in his lungs. He quickly gave one unified thrust with both his legs and arms, propelling himself towards the surface in one swift burst, quickly gulping a lungful of air before once again disappearing beneath the dark river. The twin moons of Zi slowly guided him with their malachite streams of wavering glow, seeming to pull him along as they did before, his eternal guide, his ally in this cold, wet darkness.
The smoldering fire of his passion for adventure, his in- extinguishable blaze like an eternal bolt of lightning constantly drew him forward. Squinting into the silent, dark abyss before him, Khalsin found a familiar shape. A dark silhouette, broad and bulky, a shadowy form in the darkness. The boulder he had clung to before now stood strong and seemingly immovable, planted firmly in the mudded riverbed. There it was. The landmark. The key to his plan, his scheme, the factor concerning his actions that would bring new life, new adventure. Khalsin carried out the same lunging motion, thrusting his arms to his sides and his legs together, propelling himself upwards in a rush as bubbles slowly escaped from his nose, running up his cheeks. The tickle of air in water was a charming, light feeling, smoothly sliding up against his skin. He breached above water briefly, feeling the chilling cold of the night air, taking a gaping lungful before arching his back, moving quickly back below the water. In his brief glance above water, he had seen the soldiers quietly waiting. Their devotion to their task was incredible, but not nearly as fanatic or devout as his.
Khalsin moved back to the very bottom of the river, feeling it with his hands as he squinted. It wasn't clear in the dark, but it seemed to be a very deep, dark red. As he pounded on what was colored in the murky water almost like river clay, he felt the same hard, cool metal beneath his fingertips, a hard and unexpected contact. The impact of his fists on the material caused the same echoing thud, the same submarine bellow from within. He pawed blindly at the smooth surface for any imperfection, still finding none. What was it? Metal? Here? Under a river? It seemed impossible, yet there it was, right before him, a huge expanse of alloy. A few rocks and clumps of dirt lay about atop it, but nonetheless this was clearly a solid sheet of metal. Heavy steel, it felt like, grown crystallized alloy, incredibly tough. The reddish color seemed all the more of an abnormality, such an oddity nearly inexplicable in his mind. What could this mean? Was it some secret base? A roof? A weapons bunker? Khalsin's pale, strong hands drifted about before he felt something soft and round beneath the water. His eyes widened. He moved his hands down the long, thin, cylindrical object. It had heavy notches all down its length, but seemed to stay the same thickness all the way down. A rod of some sort. He almost jumped at the realization. His bamboo pole. He had completely forgotten it during his fall, and now here it lay. Snatching the pole in one hand and firmly grasping it, Khalsin kicked his legs, continuing to hover over the metallic surface, now patting its surface with one hand to closely examine it, but still detecting little more than a smooth, metallic expanse.
He came across another irregularity, this time it did not feel soft, not wet and slimy like a rock, not granular like the riverbed dirt, but hard and smooth, just as the rest of the reddish metal. As he groped at the object in the darkness, tugging and pushing, he found it would not budge. It was the same red as the rest of the iron riverbed, had the same luster, texture and distinctive shine. As he continued to tug at it, he found it turned ever so slightly, a long, wrenching whine echoing through the water. A hatch handle. Khalsin yanked heavily at the handle, grunting with each motion as his body jerked beneath the waves. The labored, long moans of metal against metal began to sound again as he slowly turned the hatch handle, before he felt a sudden release. With a loud clack, the handle jerked to one side. Another harsh jerk from his tight fists brought fourth a surprising rush of water as the hatch suddenly flew open. Water was sucked into the gaping doorway rapidly, all he could see was a black void below. He felt his body suddenly pulled inside with an irresistibly potent force and found he could do nothing to stop the pull. He rushed through the narrow hatch, barely fitting through as his arm was jerked to one side, the bamboo pole having smacked forcefully against the steel doorway, the recoil carrying up to his shoulder with an aching, heavy pain. He continued to fall in a rush of water, hearing the latch suddenly clank shut behind him with a loud, metallic clang.
The incredible rush of water that had accompanied him had stopped with the abrupt closing of the door, the sound of the water splattering on the hard floor echoing through the chamber as he entered. Khalsin let out a grunt of shock and surprise, feeling himself slam into a hard metal surface as an aching pain suddenly burst through his chest. The impact itself jarred him horribly as he fell flat on his face, hearing the hollow, high pitched clack of his bamboo pole striking off the floor, skidding across its flawless surface. The water around him had splashed in every direction, then quietly began running down the surface to his right. He could feel the water draining from beneath him, leaving him only with the cool hardness of the floor. Khalsin groaned in pain, rolling onto his back, flopping over onto his shoulders with a soft whimper of pain. Pain had seemed to be his constant companion since the very beginning of this adventure. He had come to experience nearly all its forms, and now it enveloped his body like a furious, red-hot sea washing over him. Khalsin found himself feeling like a washed-up fish, left gasping and choking on the dock, lying in a puddle of water. He let his thoughts drift as he quietly lay, trying to collect his mind. He was clearly inside some sort of building or bunker, but what? Who would hide something like this? He panted heavily, quickly inhaling the musty, dry air of the place. It had the sent of something old, something untouched for hundreds of years. As he slowly opened his grayish, lupine eyes, he found he was in a much smaller place than he had suspected. The area was perhaps ten feet wide, and seven feet long, a small room at best. Though not claustrophobically so, the room seemed cramped; a familiar sort of minisculity and specific shape that brought about a hyped, exhilarated sensation within him. What was it that brought such excitement from inside? As his eyes slowly came into focus, he could see that it's walls were black, yet the floor was the same dark, maroon red as the "riverbed" from before; glistening softly in the dim light of the room. He paused briefly, his eyes locked on the reflecting luminescence on the glossy floor. Light? Here? Under a river? The question dawned on him just as his dull and smoky- colored stare shifted towards the ceiling, revealing six blue, iridescent lights. They were tiny, frosted glass circles embedded in the ceiling, two rows of three running down the room's ten-foot width. The small lights cast a clean, cool, azure radiance throughout the room; this allowed him to conduct a more in-depth study beneath the bluish, hazy glow.
Sitting up gradually, Khalsin grunted in pain and leaned his arms on one leg, disregarding the soft pain of his bony elbows pressing into his thigh. He panted softly to recover from the rushed swimming and escape of before and letting his gaze take in these new surroundings. Pain shot through his ribcage in a cruel, pulsating ache that simply wouldn't disappear. It made breathing difficult, but air was more important than the constant torment which seemed to follow him. The pain burned along the singed skin of his arm, and stung viciously on the back of his hand. He glanced upwards, hoping the new environment could distract him from his current anguish. At the front of the room was a wide, thin crescent-moon shaped purple window, elongated to take up perhaps four of the ten feet of the sloped wall at the front. The window itself was thin and had a much more smooth, gradual curve than was expected, a dull violet color, contrasting the auburn red of the floor. Narrowing his eyes slightly and letting his vision recover, Khalsin saw the large grey cockpit seat at the front of the room. A ferment of sheer exhilaration and anticipation rumbled up inside him despite the immense pain. He was in a zoid.
Khalsin briefly pressed his mouth over the deep yet small cut across the back of his hand, feeling his lips touch the torn nylon material of his thin, fingerless black gloves. He sucked the blood away before he stood to his feet, letting out a soft groan of pain. The blood itself tasted watery with a slight, coppery tinge to its flavor. He screwed up his face quietly spat in disgust as he shook his head vigorously, causing the many wet tendrils of his violet hair to flutter against his scalp. The cockpit was more spacious than that of his warshark, quite clearly due to its wide size. Yet, despite this, there was but one seat at the front. Khalsin gave in to the ultimate temptation, quietly walking towards the seat. As he came towards it, setting one pale, bleeding hand upon the ovular headrest, he found his ears had begun to recover. His senses struggled to take in everything the room had to offer, his curiosity overwhelming in its power, motivating him beyond any potency of will. He welcomed the temptation, the eagerness to learn. This was adventure. This was excitement. It pulsed through every inch of his being, and he nourished its every desire.
Khalsin could hear a soft, mechanical whirr coming from below him, guessing this was whatever provided power for the soft lights on the ceiling. He looked at the futuristic chair, thinly supported by a single square foot and a cylindrical, polished chrome pillar. The chair was made of a grey material akin to leather, but it carried a light, airy scent of plastic. It's slender mass curved upwards as if to perfectly accommodate the human frame, ending in the adjustable headrest which curved inwards to cushion one's skull. The entire seat looked as though it had been crafted from a single, liquid piece of chrome, all of which had now hardened into what looked to his eyes as a piece of art in furniture. Khalsin narrowed his eyes a bit, glancing across a few small panels placed around the chair on its sides. Various buttons and switches lay about on them, as well as small printed writing he couldn't quite make out. He rubbed his eyes again, the pilot glancing to the very front of the room, to the smoothly transitioned wall which simply curved upwards from the floor; this effect gave the room a fluid, wholesome feel. Fastened firmly to its base was a black zoid control console, much akin to that of his warshark. Rather than being a disorganized mess of buttons, wires, and metallic joints, the console was well-polished polished and black, a trapezoidal prism with two hand-formed joysticks protruding from its sides. The console was held up by a jointed branch of metallic joints, also smooth and jet black, gracefully folded up to keep it to he wall. The pilot narrowed his eyes a bit, glancing back about the huge cockpit. It was in a sense featureless excluding the controls and seat. Looking down towards the floor, he saw a small, circular drain, several tiny ridges showing where water had entered. Khalsin quirked a brow. The zoid even had a drain; what did this mean? The most apparent answer would be that it was some sort of aquatic machine. At this rate, he thought giddily to himself, it was not only a zoid, but one of great use to him.
Khalsin, feeling uplifted despite the multitude of small injuries about his body, quickly rubbed his hands together while his lupine gaze scanned over the cockpit again. He had obviously been more an enthused about this new discovery. He looked back to the pilot's seat, unable to draw his attention from it any longer. The soaked pilot rolled up his sleeves, feeling the cool, smooth contact of his tattered, sopping wet shirt against his skin. Khalsin walked to the console and seized it by two small bar handles sticking out from its sides. He pulled gently on these as with a soft whine the console glided after him, suspended on the strong, jointed bars of onyx metal It moved smoothly through the air, flawlessly supported by the entwined rods. They slowly unfolded from a zig-zag pattern as their joints spread apart, extending to allow the two feet of space between the front of the zoid and the pilot's seat. To be perfectly honest with himself, Khalsin had no idea what type of zoid this was, or even if he looked out of the front. He squinted through the four-foot violet window, his eyes narrowing as he could see the dark water of the river rushing by, a few small, deep-green and sickly looking plants swaying lethargically back and fourth in the current. Khalsin sat down in the chair, as with the soft hum of robotic parts it instantly shifted to fit his frame, the seat, backing, and headrest adjusting to flawlessly accommodate his body. The quiet, slight motions left him sitting comfortably and stably in an upright position. The control console moved on its own, snugly placing itself just above his lap. Tiny brackets on the front of the chair's armrests sunk into a pair of equally sized sockets on the front of the console, letting out a soft and crisp metallic click. With this, Khalsin was firmly secured to the seat. His hands shook with the immense anticipation of exploring the new possibilities of this new and magnificent machine. He could feel an almost convulsive shiver of expectance, excitement for this newfound and major aspect to his adventure.
Khalsin felt his heart thumping in his chest as it had before. This time, however, it was the adrenaline rush of new strength, new ability, new power. As he clamped his pale, thin fingers firmly around the dark joysticks, feeling their smooth grip ridges sink into his palm, it felt as if a surge of unknown force had jolted through him like a bolt of smoldering electricity. His body jerked as he felt his chest heaving for breath. He grunted suddenly as he felt the zoid lurch, several more of the blue lights suddenly illuminating just above his head. The cool, frosted lights let out a gentle cobalt glow down upon him, lighting the controls for him. The zoid had already awakened, it acted as though he was its pilot. The giddy sensation of sheer exhilaration exploded from within him, growing rapidly. This was his zoid. It had accepted him. Knowing this, Khalsin glanced about a little, feeling almost as though he was being searched and investigated by the zoid to which he did the same. The enormous steel machine seemed to come to life at his very touch. He could hear the enormous, labored groan of the zoid's limbs shifting beneath the earth, straining with great strength as they shifted dirt and stone, the very earth itself beneath the ground. The various, small buttons across the console lit up suddenly, as a few transparent meters and screens quietly materialized to either side of him, floating softly in the air. The projected screens bobbed a little in the air, their translucent forms glowing a soft, deep pine green. They flickered softly as they appeared, as statistics and readings began to scroll across them rapidly. Aat the top of each screen, read the zoid's name in clear, bolded letters. "Emperor Crab." Khalsin's jaw dropped slightly as his grey eyes took them in, before focusing solely upon a wide, elongated screen to his left. It showed, constructed in white bars of light, the blueprints of a large zoid, looking like a gargantuan mechanical crab. The zoid itself had eight thick, armored legs that each ended in sharp toe- tips, coated in huge armor plates with hydraulic movement systems beneath, a row of telescopic cylinders all coming from the wide base of the crab and fanning out towards its joints. This, he could imagine, gave the zoid's legs incomprehensible power. The great machine had a huge, ovular plate of thick crystalline armor forming its top, exponentially curved to perfectly imitate a crab's shell. It had another at the bottom, leaving only a small crack in between, the sole flaw in its seemingly impenetrable defenses. The top layer of the crab's "shell" hung over slightly, and slanted sharply upwards in what looked like a double-spiked, crescent-shaped set of horns, forming a double-crest on its top shell. The horns themselves held resemblance to the decorative blades often found on a samurai's kabuto helmet, but obviously much larger, giving the great, tank-like zoid a regal appearance. The purple, visor-like windshield was visible between the two great plates of armor, sprouting also from between these were two enormous, single-jointed robotic arms, both of which ended in a leviathan crab claw. The arms themselves were constructed almost skeletally of powerful titanium rods, lifelike in their curvature, meeting at a single round joint, before extending again to the great pincers. Each of the claws, according to the screen, contained the zoid's primary weapon systems, excluding its rocket boxes. Held vertically for precise aiming, the crabs were shown by a flickering animation to spread open, as the weapon protruded out between them. The armament of the zoid flickered beside the diagram, listing slowly letter by letter. "100 MM Vulcan Round Cannon (x2), 18-Shot Surface-to- Surface. Rocket caster box (x2), Three-round grenade launcher (x2)."
The confident pilot quirked a brow in amazement at the sheer capacity of the zoid's armament, before—with great effort—managing to yank his stare away from the statistics. Khalsin shivered again at the feeling of might pulsing through him, the electrifying experience of controlling the new machine. The nylon gloves on his hands creaked and stretched, lightening in color as he made firm, trembling fists around the joysticks of the console. Khalsin glanced forward at the rushing, shadowy water of the river, before firmly thrusting both joysticks forward. The enormous mechanical creature gave a terrifying lurch, shifting powerfully in its subterranean environment, before seeming to lean forward on its legs. The zoid acted as though it was trying to turn itself sideways, leaning forward as its behemoth crab legs struggled to obey his command. Khalsin paused a moment as he heard the strained, loud groan of the leg hydraulics churning at the hard earth. The zoid wouldn't move forwards. He scowled quietly, his grey eyes staring at the dark water beyond the windshield.
Before long, still immersed in constant thought, Khalsin's eyes widened. He thought back to the beach, his origin, his old and familiar home, the life he had before. The many fishing crabs there didn't move forward either. Crabs moved sideways. He remembered years as a child, watching the crabs burrow into the ground in rivers, digging in sideways, using their bodies as a wedge. With a rapid, swaying motion encompassing their entire bodies, tiny legs wriggling constantly. He remembered how the river crabs would disappear beneath the earth in seconds; there one minute, gone the next. They all moved sideways. The tiny creatures would scuttle about constantly, aware of any and every presence, moving with great speed. Sideways. Lateral movement patterns. Of course. The pilot's confident grin soon returned as he jerked both joysticks to the right, grinning his subdued grin as the zoid suddenly moved with a great jolt of its powerful legs. He could hear the thick, hard earth being churned and mutilated by the incredibly potent legs. The zoid's right side suddenly climbed upwards as it moved, tilting him to one side almost uncomfortably as he could feel its incredible supports pulling it along, the great, pointed, hooklike legs jerking it free from its earthy grave in mighty tugs. Khalsin saw the thick earth being pushed forcefully aside out the window, mud, silt, and water streaming across the purple visor as he squinted to see where he was. Though the swift, lateral movements of the crab seemed unwieldy, he knew he would grow accustomed to them soon. The zoid shook violently as it struggled to free itself from the ground, its gigantic limbs tearing at the earth. It caught again on the ground, surging upwards with immense force. Suddenly, the incomprehensible mess of churning water and earth cleared, as Khalsin could see the fresh, night air before him, out of the visor. The cliff was visible nearby as his incredible android tore itself free from the very earth that had contained it, soil and rocks as well as river water running down off of its sides. A great explosion of earth shot outwards, huge rocks and ground matter scattering in all directions as the subterranean juggernaut broke the surface. The zoid itself, uncontrolled, shook violently a moment to free itself of the massive amounts of sediment. Khalsin found he was still relatively low to the ground, not more than 10 feet, as the crab itself, though quite tanklike and large, was short and low to the ground for quick maneuvering, almost precisely to the scale of its natural counterparts.
Looking out into the night air, he could once again see the twin green moons floating in the sky like kind, watching eyes smiling down upon him. The new phase of his quest had begun, and the requirements for his adventure had been fulfilled. He now had a zoid, one that was not only his own, but seemed made for him, as if he had found it by the hands of destiny.
Khalsin's grin faded into a determined, stony look that exaggerated the sharp angles in his features. He growled quietly to himself, setting his jaw as his fingers shifted upwards on the joysticks, sliding smoothly up the grooved, metallic surface. He could see the small platoon of guardian soldiers up on the cliff, though their backs faced the huge, deep red war machine. His index fingers drifted over the trigger buttons. Looking to his left and right, Khalsin could make out the large, jagged forms of the two upright, vertical pincers at the end of the crab's long arms. He slowly tilted the joysticks to the side, using this motion to make the zoid quietly creep in a lateral strafe, moving in line with the troops. They had already turned from the huge, rumbling quake of the zoid's subterranean emergence, but it was far too late for them. The pilot pushed down sharply on both scarlet trigger buttons, hearing the satisfying click of them hitting home.
The zoid gave no reaction, but with a sudden, jerky movement, the console split in half, as did the large branches of jointed support beams. The two halves of the black console drifted upwards, carrying his arms with them until they were aligned straight out from his shoulders, in a turret- gunning position. His arms were spread apart, yet comfortably so as the console parts rotated on a small axis located just where the support rack met its glossy trapezoidal frame. They turned sideways, the joysticks still gripped tightly in his hands, pointing inwards in the traditional gunner stance.
Khalsin grinned before looking up towards the soldiers again. A small robotic arm unfolded from the ceiling, settling beside him, as a tiny, projected red screen it held settled just before his left eye. Looking through this eye, he could see a thin, semitransparent red tint to his gaze, as a rectangular, neon-green box locked in around each soldier. Statistics of their relative distance and angle towards the crab flitted across on the bottom of the screen, as their dark figures were highlighted to give a better view. He could see two green X's with small circles surrounding them, which stood perfectly still, in line with the very tips of the crab's claws. These, he thought, were the target indicators. The support bars which had held the console up retracted to the wall, while just seconds before two robotic arms transitioned smoothly up from the back of his chair and attached to the two half-consoles attached to his hands. The consoles looked like two long robotic arms, with joints all parallel to his, completely under his control. Khalsin moved his arms upwards towards his adversaries, still gripping the dual joysticks. As he moved them, he could see the enormous arms of the Emperor Crab moving in tandem, copying their every move.
At this point, the soldiers had been unleashing a vicious, smoldering salvo of photon fire, raining glowing bolts down upon his zoid. Khalsin chuckled at the futility of it all, as the seemingly impenetrable armor of the crab withstood everything they could dish out. "Select Weapon." Flitted across his left eye, as it animated a small motion of a sideways flick of the wrists. Khalsin chuckled. This zoid even taught him how to pilot it. The fisherman jerked his hands downwards sharply, as he saw the leviathan, deadly pincers of the zoid open, massive, rounded, multi-barrel Vulcan guns sliding smoothly out from the crease and settling there. At the sight of the terrifying weapons, all five troopers set out in a full sprint. Khalsin let out a chuckle, his familiar grin growing wider than ever before. "...The tables have turned, my friends." He muttered, before clasping downwards on the triggers of the crimson trigger buttons. The zoid lurched, shaking violently as its powerful legs worked to steady it, the enormous miniguns suddenly flying into action, spinning incomprehensibly fast as each barrel let out an enormous barrage of bullet projectiles, the flaming tracer rounds shooting into the forest, though obviously not hitting their targets. The zoid's massive arms shook as yellow flame flew out in a six- point-star pattern from the tips of the enormous gattling guns, lighting the earth around him. Khalsin grunted at their escape, jerking the joysticks downwards again before returning them to their default gunner position with a flick of the wrist.
The claws closed, slanting sideways as the long chains of bullet ammunition swung a bit between small grooves in the crab's armor and their destination in the side of the pincers themselves. Feeds for the vuclan cannons, Khalsin guessed. Khalsin flicked his wrists upwards this time, deciding to see the rest of the zoid's weapons. The claws returned to their vertical alignment and opened again as large, three-barreled weapons appeared, their individual nozzles much larger than those of the Vulcan cannon. Khalsin focused on his viewfinder eye, noticing it was still locked onto the fleeing soldiers. Their distances were rapidly increasing. The words "Trigrenade launcher" flitted through his vision for a moment, before the screen showed lob patterns in the form of green, arcing lines emanating from the crab's claws. He could still see the two aim indicators, two X's swaying quietly with the movements of the zoid's claws, the screen's target reticules. Khalsin let out another growl beneath his breath, lifting his arms, causing both the zoid's great claws and the robotic arms attached to the semiconsoles to shift upwards in the exact same motion. Just as his finger closed in on the trigger button, Khalsin grunted as his great zoid shook, bombarded from behind with ruthless cannon fire, powerful blasts capable of jarring the mighty Emperor crab.
Cursing softly, Khalsin leaned the joysticks to the sides, twisting them to a small degree due to their gunner set up. As he moved them to the side, the armored legs of the crab scuttled rapidly sideways with it; turning the crab around while the pilot rolled the joysticks around to set this in motion. The heavy laser cannon fire pummeled into the craft, though soon Khalsin found himself grinning with battle-fervor; his opponents suddenly came into view.
Looking across a long line of godos, Khalsin's eyes widened. The security forces from the hidden base had been dispatched. He pressed firmly down on the triggers of the joysticks, gritting his teeth as he heard the great grenades being fired. "THOOM!" came the instant response of the two tri-grenade launchers, two explosive devices suddenly hurtling through the air from the high-pressurized CO2 cannons. The dark grenades soared in a narrow arc before impacting the side of the approaching line of Godos, one of the huge, tower-like dinosoid androids falling from its tower-like legs, having been blasted apart from the dual-explosive assault. The three barrels rotated and resettled with a solid click, allowing the next loaded barrel to be fired. Khalsin wasted no time in launching the second pair of grenades from the Crab's pincers, the bastion-like armor easily enduring the high-power laser barrage from the dinosoids. Bright orange explosions tore through the line of androids, as Khalsin continued to rapidly hurl a furious barrage of grenades at his opponents. His eyepiece had already locked in on each opponent, mapping out perfect lob trajectories for each shot. The three-barreled grenade launchers rotated swiftly, ice cold liquid CO2 steam rising from their barrels. Each shot was fired the moment it had been set into the barrel, as Khalsin felt the great arms of the crab shake with its attacks. The rapid and explosive attack had leveled a good amount of the godos squadron, spraying metallic parts about as deep, black smoke rose slowly into the sky. Flaming carcasses of the mechanized force lay strewn about, as pilots ejected from their cockpits and ran to the woods. Khalsin's stony gaze shifted slightly to one side, as he could see the sun rising to the east, casting its warm, pink glow through the purpling sky. A white, heavy metal gripper arm hurtled rapidly through the air towards him, hitting off the top of his squat zoid with a heavy clank. Khalsin looked back to his enemies, hearing the loud click of the cocked grenade launchers, ready to fire their rounds. The remaining zoids continued their approach, rapidly casting off heavy laser shells towards him. The tall, white dinosaur-like machines towered over the emperor crab, as the creatures' footsteps came in perfect uniform, the zoids as disciplined and precise as the soldiers which piloted them. Their short yet stable legs moved slowly, each metallic foot impacting the ground with a jarring thud. The large, still arms of the beasts stayed at right angles, bent at the elbows, great metallic limbs bristling with various beam cannons. The leading Godos, piloted by the platoon leader, marked by a red band across the white chest of the great machine, opened fire as the steadied arms of his zoid jerked back abruptly, white beam fire scattering from its cannons and slamming into the thick top armor of the crustacean zoid. All at once, the rest of the platoon opened fire, nearly 9 remaining Godos' letting out a constant salvo of airy thuds as the Emperor crab was showered in laser rounds.
Khalsin cursed quietly, a lock of his purple hair dangling before his dull grey eyes as he jerked both joysticks to the left, closing his right eye and isolating his vision to his targeting device. Through this one eye he could see a close-up view of the approaching enemies, seeing just through the smoke caused by his previous assault. This smoke had previously impeded his defense, but now the tables had turned. A bright green box locked in on the pack of zoids, as the same jade, iridescent lines glided over them, geometrically fitting the groups as numbers flecked across his vision. Reaching both thumbs to the left of the joysticks, he promptly pressed two blue buttons, as the claws of the pincers closed for a moment, before opening again. The huge tri-grenade launchers that had previously been between the claws were replaced by intimidating, multi-barrelled gatling guns. The emperor crab began to sidestep rapidly as a real crab would while Khalsin shifted the joysticks, keeping his zoid at optimum velocity as it flanked the approaching Godos, using its incredibly strafing abilities to bewilder his enemies. It moved in a circular motion around the group as Khalsin jammed his thumbs down on the two bright red buttons of the joysticks, hearing their familiar, promising click. Massive gatling guns between the claws of both pincers began to spin rapidly, a loud whining could be heard before a fierce roar as the bullets began to fire, the massive chains of ammunition going from the zoid's underbelly to the side of each pincer began to feed into them rapidly, as shells flew at an equal pace from the outside, scattering across the ground as the zoid scuttled. The same six-point-star pattern flashed from between both pincers as yellow fire spewed from the barrels, caused by the immense speed and firing rate of the bullet-round Vulcans. The sudden blaze of huge bullets ripped across the line of Godos, as their thin armor and tall, awkward structures were shredded into shrapnel in seconds, metal flying in all directions as the majority of the zoids fell, their lower portions simply rent from the rest of them. Khalsin gritted his teeth as he swept the devastating fire across the entire group, before releasing the trigger- like mechanisms, the deafening roar of the guns still ringing in his ears. The entire line had fallen, the huge, scarlet form of the crab zoid standing still as the deep purplish-blue visor across its front, seeming like the androids "eye" surveyed the carnage it had caused. The slaughtered corpses of about 16 godos lay strewn about like rag dolls, ripped to shreds and cast uselessly around on the ground. The Emperor crab came to a halt, steam ejecting quickly from the hydraulic pumps beneath its legs. Deep black welts mottled the heavy armor of the zoid due to the massive barrage of cannon fire it had withstood, yet it was still more than intact. Khalsin had nearly escaped now, he prayed that the group would stop here. What was it they wanted so badly here? Was it the zoid? Questions scurried through his head, though one main, overriding purpose seemed to focus his thoughts. Escape with the zoid. His goal, to be a zoid fighter, was still more than part of his actions and decisions. The Emperor crab stalked slowly sideways towards a small, wooded path, moving between clearings in the large and winding woods. This zoid obviously was unique, it had easily outperformed mass-produced zoids as used by his adversaries. Khalsin suspected he had become involved with something he shouldn't have. He had to escape before more zoids were sent in pursuit, he had to fulfill his destiny. The great, ovular form of the red-armored crab zoid continued to move slowly, as Khalsin gazed calmly at the passing trees visible through the dark purple visor. The enormous zoid, constructed entirely out of perfectly crafted and unique metal parts, seemed something of a wonder to Khalsin. It was obviously an expensive custom job, yet it was owned by no one, otherwise it would not have accepted him so easily as its pilot. Khalsin sat and thought while the great crab continued to move in the thickly wooded valley, between the various mountains of the area. The zoid moved with slow, undulating movements as its 8 legs scuttled along the ground, overcoming obstacle after obstacle with perfect unison and organization, supporting the heavy bulk of the tank-like zoid. It's gargantuan claws were drawn inwards near what would be its "mouth", as his controls slowly transformed themselves back into a single console, supported by the foldable beams stretching from the zoids front. Thinking back on the rapid- fire events of the day before, he felt a pang of sorrow for the loss of his Warshark. Though now he clearly had a better zoid than he had, he was not quite so familiar with a land-going fighter. He stopped the huge metallic monstrosity, his eyes drifting over to a small projected map of the nearby area being provided by the zoid itself. A small screen to his right, suspended by a telescopic, warped pole from the ceiling of cockpit, provided an image of the front of the zoid. Khalsin smirked a bit, finding this aspect amusing. Though it did indeed move sideways, this zoid did not neglect the technological advances to accommodate its pilot. Khalsin moved his gaze back to one of the floating screens at his right, eyeing the map, as he saw a small river running through the forest, symbolized by a winding, bluish line. He released the joysticks as the zoid came to a smooth halt. The same hissing came from beneath him as the hydraulic valves released their steam. Khalsin stood from the seat of the cockpit, the console shifting backwards smoothly just as he did so. He walked a few paces towards a hatch at the side of the elliptical room, reaching down and firmly seizing his thick, bamboo fishing pole. Khalsin bounced the large staff smoothly in his hand, smirking softly as he ran his fingers through his hair. He had begun to slowly dry out since the unwanted "swim", as his hair had begun to slowly rise up again. Moving over to a rectangular door at the side of the machine, he gripped a small metal handle and turned it sharply downwards. He raised an eyebrow as the rectangular hatch opened, a small step ladder lowering beneath it. The man quietly descended the steps, glancing about the nearby forest. Khalsin's smoky stare swept around the area as he inhaled the same humid, thick forest smell that had become so familiar to him before. The area was dimly lit by the rising sun, as the sky was a soft pink at the east, a lightening blue at the west. Khalsin rolled his shoulders, feeling sore from the endless combat and stress, heaving a sigh as he watched the river. The river was more of a brook, tiny and shallow, babbling quietly as smooth, glittering water streamed over smooth pebbles. Khalsin watched the tiny pebbles as the water rippled over them, smiling inwardly. The young pilot took a few steps forward, gently dropping his fishing pole to the ground, hearing it quietly fall into the grass. Khalsin moved onto his knees, dipping his palms into the water. He closed his eyes at the cool, liquid feel of the fresh water running by, though it soaked his wet gloves, the feeling was exquisite over the irritation of his hands. They had gone raw from squeezing the immense zoid's controls so tightly. He heard a soft noise a few feet off, his flared, violet eyebrows furrowing. Khalsin set his jaw, just about to rise, before he heard the distinctive click of a pistol's hammer. The cool, smooth contact of metal against his temple sent a shiver down his spine. His body went rigid, every muscle tightening as his eyes flicked open wide, too afraid to move. A figure sat crouched beside him, one arm holding a photon pistol sideways against his head with a firm grip. "Well 'ello there, what have we here...?"