Peter accepted long ago that he was going to die. The average life expectancy of an elite soldier, like a Pilot, was low. Even with their Titans and all their advanced and superior training and equipment, it still wasn't great. It's even worse for the grunts. With standard equipment and far less training, grunts are fighting in a war field with Pilots, Titans, Specters, Reapers, and Stalkers that could easily kill them all in seconds or just turn them into a fine red paste on the wall.

Peter would know, as he had seen it happen and done it himself plenty of times before. Even with the knowledge that they are nothing but cannon fodder, they still fight on with determination. Peter couldn't help but respect that. It takes some balls to do that. The grunts have earned his respect, something they don't often get. Or at least he respects the Militia, not the IMC. Ok, maybe Peter can show some respect to the IMC grunt, but only a little.

Although Peter accepted that his life was most likely going to get cut short in one of the many awful ways you can die in this war, he didn't expect he would die like this.

Peter observed the destruction of Typhon as he hung on a floating boulder with his data knife stabbed in between the cracks. The last of the Militia ships had already left Typhon, leaving him behind. He could signal for an evac to pick him up, but he couldn't see the point. Why waste time and lives trying to save a single Pilot who has already accepted his fate on a doomed planet?

In the far distance, he could see the Ark violently shake around, causing more cracks in the planet's crust to form. He knows the Ark is going to explode again, destroying Typhon and wiping him from the universe in the process. It's just a matter of time.

Peter can still recall what happened. Their ship, the MCS Carter Braxton, was shot down as his Titan was getting a replacement chassis after the original one was heavily damaged during the assault on the IMC-controlled airbase housing a transport vessel, which was transporting the Ark towards the Fold weapon.

Peter was heavily wounded during the fighting, so he was getting treated while on the ship. He still remembers the trembling of the ship as it was being fired on while he was being treated. By the time he was back on his feet, it was already too late. The ship was shot down as Peter ran to the racks where his Titan was, causing him to go flying and hit his head against a wall. HARD. Not even his Pilot helmet could protect against that.

The next thing he knows, he finds himself stumbling amidst the wreckage of the Braxton, just in time to see the Fold weapon explode in the distance. What was left of the Braxton was now floating all over the place. Portions of the planet's crust broke apart, with lava spewing from the cracks. Small bits of lava and rock hit Peter's body, causing him to hiss in pain. The sky was covered in thick black smoke, with rays of light breaking through. There was also the occasional dead human body floating around, either torn apart or burned.

Whatever the Militia did must have succeeded in destroying the Ark, and he was glad they did. After all, it was the whole reason they came to Typhon.

They learned that the IMC was planning to use the Ark to destroy every Militia-controlled planet until they forced them to surrender. Their first target was Harmony, the headquarters of the militia and home to over 40 million innocent people. No way in hell was Peter going to let them win. The IMC was already known for committing heinous war crimes. From the indiscriminate or deliberate attacks on civilians to the repeated execution of surrendering soldiers—not that Peter or the Militia were entirely innocent themselves—but the plan to use a super weapon to cause mass genocide? That's a new low.

Seeing the Ark explode far in the distance filled him with a sense of ease. It brought comfort to him to know that his death and that the thousands that died weren't in vain. Sure, the fight against the IMC is far from over, but every day the Militia gets stronger and the IMC weaker. It's only a matter of time before this war ends with the Frontier free from IMC control. But right now, Peter was more worried about one thing than his own life.

He still couldn't find his Titan.

Peter hung on for a bit before finally jumping off after his jumpkit finished reinstalling. He landed on a boulder before double-jumping across and landing on another. He scanned around with his helmet, jumping from one piece of debris to another. He then landed on a large piece of wreckage, looked down, and saw a smear of blood on the metal. He didn't think much of it besides feeling sorry for who it belonged to.

But before he could jump off, a huge boulder slammed into the wreckage, sending Peter flying through the air. With lightning-fast reflexes, he fired his grappling hook onto a nearby piece of the ship's engine. He felt the hook bite into the metal and swung himself around. He thrust once with his jumpkit, giving him more momentum. As he soared through the air, he noticed a piece of debris hurtling towards him. Without a second thought, Peter dashed forward with his jumpkit and landed perfectly on the engine with a loud thud. His grappling hook detached from the metal and snapped back into place.

Peter then scanned around, his head snapping in every direction. He zoomed in and out with his helmet, hoping to find something, but found nothing. He couldn't find a signal or anything like that. Peter started to fear the worst. What if his Titan's data core was broken, or worse, what if he fell off and sank into the lava? Peter's already-beating heart started to beat faster.

Is it odd that he has such a strong emotional attachment to a giant robot? Yeah, maybe it is, but Peter didn't care. His Titan was more than just a robot. He was a friend. A friend he laughed with. A friend he cried with. A friend that comforted him when he learned of his mom's passing. Albeit in a robotic and a bit insensitive manner, but Peter didn't mind. At least he had someone there for him. Hell, his Titan even offers to arrange his mother's funeral for him. That's not a robot. That's a true friend. But now his Titan is the only person he has left in his life. If he's going to die here, then he's going to die with his friend by his side. But if given a chance, Peter would sacrifice himself to save his friend. If only.

Peter looked down and spotted a large portion of the Braxton stuck between the shattered ground. He zoomed in with his helmet and spotted multiple Titan limbs flying around. Different types of Titan weapons floated around, ranging from XO-16 and 40-mm cannons to T-203 thermal launchers.

That's definitely the racks; if he's going to be anywhere, he's going to be in the racks. Or at least a portion of it

The drop was high; Peter's helmet calculated it to be a 95-meter drop. For most people, a 95-meter drop was a guaranteed death sentence. But Peter wasn't like most people; he was a Pilot. A drop like this was child's play.

Peter took a few steps back before jumping off, aiming to land on top of the ship. He can feel the wind gusting around him cool his body a bit from the scorching heat of the lava.

Then, the ground split open near the racks, sending molten hot lava high in the air. Out of pure instinct, Peter flicked his wrist, causing the entire world to go gray. It was an oddly quiet place that Peter had entered hundreds of times before. Distorted, warped, muffled, silent, murky, and blurry—these words can best describe the feeling and sound of entering an entirely different dimension. Peter landed on top of the racks in silence. There was no loud thunk or the sound of his jumpkit softening his landing. Just pure and other silence. However, it only lasted a few seconds before Peter phased back into the world.

Once on top, Peter walked over to the edge of the ship and jumped inside through a hole that most likely came from the cannon that shot it down. Peter landed on what seemed like an Ion severed arm. The entire place was showered in red emergency lights as small fires burned around. He looked back and forth, counting over a dozen Titans of all various types, but only a small portion of them looked operative.

Dozens of dead Marvins littered the place, with some dead human bodies sprinkled around. His eyes then stopped at the far back of the racks. Two Vanguard-class Titans lay stationed on the wall. One was in surprisingly perfect condition but seemed to be deactivated and missing its data core, while the other was damaged beyond repair. It was missing all its limbs, and its lower cockpit door was hanging on one of its sides. On the right side of the Titan was a small insignia of a hand holding four bullets with a black rose in between. The same insignia Peter had on his helmet.

"CV!" Peter yelled, running up to him. "CV! Please! Respond to me!" CV didn't respond.

Wasting no time, Peter grabbed the SERE kit out of CV hull. He sat it down and pressed a small button hidden on its side. With a loud hiss, it opened up, revealing a data knife on one side and a smart pistol on the other. In sync, Peter grabbed them both and threw them to the ground. He dug deeper and retrieved eight magazines for the smart pistol. Usually, Peter would cherish and protect these expensive bullets, but instead, he dumped them all onto the ground. Once the SERE kit was empty, it closed back into shape, and CV data core popped out. He took it out and inspected it. The lens was cracked, but besides that, it was in excellent condition.

Peter walked over to the Vanguard that was supposed to be his Titan replacement. He noticed that the battery holsters on its right side were all empty. He looked around to find a battery lying around. Maybe he could take the batteries from the Titans and put them inside the Vanguard? But before he could, he spotted a dead Marvin in the corner, cradling multiple Titan batteries like they were babies. It seems like it was protecting them. Peter stuffed CV's core into one of his pouches on his vest and ran towards the Marvin, jumping over either the dead Marvin or a dead Militia. Giving them all a light pat as he jumped over. Once he made it to the Marvain, he grabbed three batteries off the Marvain's arm.

"I'll be taking these, bud. You did a good job protecting them." Peter said to the dead Marvin, giving it a light pat on the head.

He placed two under his armpits and held one in his hands. He ran back to the Vanguard's right side, but the battery holsters were too far up to reach. Peter double-jumped and felt the thrusters of his jumpkit fire out, holding him in the air. Peter placed the three batteries one by one. With the final one placed inside the Vanguard, the chassis began to move. Its hand clinches open before closing again. The legs moved back and forth before they finally stopped moving. All that was missing was the data core.

Peter dropped to the ground and moved in front of the Vanguard. He looked up at its empty eye, twisting and turning, waiting for someone to give it life. Peter took out CV data core from his pouch.

"CV-1204." Peter mumbled, reading CV's serial number on his data core. But before he could jump, a bright light covered his entire vision before everything went dark.

Okay. I have no clue what I'm doing.

This is my very first time I've ever written a story, fanfic, or whatever you call this thing. So expect plenty of grammar problems but I do try my best to fix them all. Honestly, I'm just doing this for fun and to sharpen my craft in writing. Also, I think I did well as a first-timer. I think. I hope. I don't know. So to any unfortunate bastard reading this, uh, thanks for reading? And I'll see you next time. Assuming there is a next time.