The battle within Shisuikan Fortress raged on, the scent of gunpowder thick in the air as the REDs methodically dismantled the Imperial forces. The once-imposing stronghold now stood battered, its walls scorched, its defenders falling one by one beneath the relentless onslaught of mercenary firepower. Bullet casings littered the stone floors, mingling with the blood of the fallen, as explosions from detonated charges rattled the structure's very foundation.
Amidst the chaos, Sheele and Bulat moved with practiced precision, leading a contingent through the crumbling corridors, cutting down any resistance in their path. The mercenaries behind them kept their weapons at the ready, covering every blind spot as they advanced deeper into the fortress. The eerie silence between skirmishes made the distant sounds of gunfire and battle outside all the more unsettling.
As they rounded a corner into a vast open chamber, they came to a sudden halt. Across from them stood three figures, the last remnants of the Jaegers—Esdeath, Run, and Wave. The air between them grew thick with tension, the battlefield momentarily silenced by the weight of the impending clash. The torches lining the stone walls flickered, casting jagged shadows across the bloodstained floor.
Bulat stepped forward, his gaze locking onto Run. "It's been a while," he said, his voice steady. He planted his spear into the ground for a moment before gripping it tightly, adjusting his stance. "Let's see if I still remember how to handle myself."
Run exhaled slowly, flipping his book-like weapon open with a flick of his wrist. Symbols glowed faintly along its pages, responding to his will. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't curious about your return." His eyes sharpened, assessing the warrior before him. "Let's see if you can live up to the second chance you've been given."
The two men lunged at each other, weapons flashing as they met in a clash of steel and energy. Bulat's powerful strikes forced Run on the defensive, his spear moving in controlled, precise thrusts. Run countered with swift dodges and magical barriers, his ability to weave around Bulat's attacks keeping him a step ahead. Sparks flew as the two continued their deadly dance, each testing the other's limits.
Wave, watching the battle unfold, couldn't hold back any longer. With a growl, he activated Grand Chariot and charged, his armored form moving like a blur. "Don't think I'll just stand by and watch!"
Bulat barely had time to react before Wave was upon him, his strikes crashing down with sheer brute force. Bulat shifted his stance, maneuvering his spear defensively to intercept the relentless onslaught. Now forced to battle two Jaegers at once, he gritted his teeth, his muscles burning from the effort. Run continued his ranged magical assaults, creating barriers and sending sharp wind blades towards Bulat, while Wave provided the close-quarters pressure, hammering at his defenses.
Bulat ducked under a massive swing from Wave, twisting his spear in a sweeping arc to force him back. "You two really aren't holding back, huh?" He smirked despite the strain. "Good. I wouldn't have it any other way."
Wave clenched his fists, his expression hard. "If you were really Bulat, you wouldn't be fighting for them!" His voice carried an edge of frustration, of something deeper left unsaid.
Bulat exhaled, steadying himself. "People change, kid. The question is—can you keep up?" With a powerful thrust, he surged forward, forcing both Wave and Run to react in tandem, their battle escalating into a blur of motion and raw power.
The chamber echoed with the sounds of battle, but Sheele had already shifted her focus elsewhere. She approached Esdeath, her grip tightening around Extase. The Ice General met her gaze, but there was something off. Normally, Esdeath exuded a cold, overwhelming confidence, an aura of absolute control that struck fear into her enemies. But now... there was hesitation. A fleeting moment of uncertainty flickered across her expression, an almost imperceptible falter in her stance.
Sheele narrowed her eyes, analyzing every movement. Esdeath's posture remained strong, yet there was a distinct absence of the usual lethal grace that defined her attacks. When she finally moved, it was slower, measured rather than the raw brutality Sheele had expected. The precision was there, but it lacked the merciless intent that once made her an unstoppable force on the battlefield. It was as if she was holding back, reluctant to strike with the same ferocity she was known for.
Sheele took a deep breath, tightening her grip on Extase. "You're not fighting at full strength," she observed, her voice calm but firm. "Why?"
Esdeath didn't answer immediately. She merely smiled, though there was something different in it—something almost unreadable. Sheele had expected the usual bloodlust, the merciless hunger for battle, but instead, there was a flicker of something else in the woman's gaze.
Wave, locked in a fierce exchange with Bulat, still managed to steal a glance at Esdeath, his expression tightening with uncertainty. "Esdeath...?" His grip on Grand Chariot remained firm, yet a flicker of hesitation seeped into his movements, as if some part of him sensed something beyond the immediate battle.
The sound of thunderous footsteps filled the ruined chamber as the RED mercenaries stormed into the battlefield. The fortress walls trembled under the sheer force of their presence, their weapons raised and ready. At the head of the charge, Heavy's booming laughter echoed through the hall, his minigun spinning to life.
"Hahaha! Tiny man, you fight Heavy now!" he bellowed, his sights set on Wave, his minigun roaring to life as a hail of bullets sprayed toward the Jaeger.
Wave reacted instantly, Grand Chariot's enhanced agility allowing him to weave between the deadly projectiles. He dashed toward Heavy, aiming for a decisive strike, only for Bulat to intercept, Incursio's armor clashing against Grand Chariot in a thunderous impact. The two warriors locked blades, sparks flying as Bulat pushed back with sheer brute strength.
"I hope you've gotten stronger, Wave," Bulat said with a smirk, his muscles straining against the force of the Jaeger's counterattack. "Because I have."
Before Wave could respond, a turret lock-on beeped in his ear. Engineer had set up his sentry, and the automated weapon opened fire, forcing Wave to disengage and dash aside. The relentless suppression gave Demoman the perfect opening, and with a wild grin, he lunged forward, Eyelander raised high.
"Let's see if yer fancy armor can stop me from takin' yer head!" Demoman roared, his cursed blade glowing hungrily in his grip. He swung fiercely, forcing Wave to deflect, but the impact rattled through his gauntlets.
Wave grit his teeth and retaliated with a powerful surge, his blade carving through the air in an arc of shimmering energy. Heavy absorbed the hit with his sheer bulk, grunting but holding his ground, while Engineer quickly adjusted his sentry to compensate for Wave's movement.
Wave's mind raced—he was strong, fast, well-trained, but he was fighting a war machine, a veteran spearman, an explosives expert, and a tactical mastermind all at once. The numbers were against him, and even with Grand Chariot's power, the mercenaries were pressing him harder than he'd ever been before. He could feel the weight of battle shifting, and it was not in his favor.
On the other side of the room, Pyro let out an excited muffled giggle, flames dancing from their flamethrower as they leapt into the fray. Streams of fire surged forth, licking at the stone walls and forcing Run to retreat. Pyro twirled on their heels, tilting their head in fascination as they watched the flames swirl.
Soldier followed with a war cry, rocket launcher primed and locked. "MEN! WE SHALL SHOW THIS SCHOLARLY SCOUNDREL THE TRUE MEANING OF WAR! CHAAAAAARGE!" He fired a rocket straight at Run's position.
Run barely had time to react before Sniper's rifle cracked a shot, forcing him to dodge mid-air. His eyes flickered as he calculated his opponents, his mind racing. "Mastema, keep them at bay!" With a beat of ethereal wings, his weapon sent forth a volley of energy projectiles, forcing the mercenaries into evasive maneuvers.
Scout, grinning wildly, dashed forward in a blur, weaving through the attacks with effortless agility. "C'mon, bookworm, that all ya got?!" he taunted before closing in and swinging his bat. Run barely deflected the strike with Mastema, but before he could counter, Sniper fired another round, forcing him back once more.
Pyro, ever unpredictable, suddenly burst through the smoke, their flamethrower blazing. Run barely managed to summon a barrier of energy with Mastema to block the flames, sweat forming on his brow as the heat intensified.
Soldier, meanwhile, laughed maniacally, launching rocket after rocket with no regard for friendly fire. "HA! STRATEGY IS FOR COWARDS! OVERWHELM AND DESTROY!" He fired a rocket at the ground and propelled himself into the air, soaring toward Run with practiced ease. "YOU THINK YOU CAN OUTFLY ME, WINGED BOOKWORM?!" he roared, launching another rocket mid-air, keeping pace with Run as explosions rocked the chamber around them.
Run gritted his teeth, realizing he was on the defensive. Mastema allowed him to fly and fire from a distance, but the mercenaries were relentless. They were unpredictable, chaotic, and worst of all—they were enjoying this. What unsettled him even more was Soldier, who somehow kept pace with him in mid-air, using sheer explosive force to propel himself. "That shouldn't be possible...!" Run thought, narrowly dodging another rocket as Soldier cackled wildly, eyes locked onto him with an almost fanatical glee.
Sniper adjusted his aim, watching Run's movements carefully. "Yer makin' this too easy, mate," he muttered before squeezing the trigger. A single, precise shot grazed Run's shoulder, drawing blood. The Jaeger winced but refused to falter, knowing full well that he was being hunted.
Spy's steps were deliberate, his Ambassador twirling between his fingers as he advanced with measured precision. Sheele flanked Esdeath, her grip firm on Extase's sheath, ready to draw at a moment's notice. Medic remained at a cautious distance, his hands flexing, ever eager to see how the Ice General would react under pressure.
Esdeath's smirk did not waver, but Medic's sharp gaze caught the subtle twitch in her fingers—a tell of hesitation, something rare for a warrior of her caliber. He adjusted his glasses, eyes narrowing as he analyzed her stance. "Something is off about her... She hesitates," he muttered, just loud enough for Spy and Sheele to hear.
Sheele took a step forward, positioning herself to strike, her body coiled like a spring. "Are you going to fight or not?" she asked, her tone even but firm.
Esdeath's gaze flickered toward her before returning to Spy. Her smirk held, but it lacked its usual menace. "Strange," she mused aloud, her tone almost contemplative. "Even now, you are all so determined to win. But I wonder… if you knew the truth, would you still fight me so readily?"
Spy's grip on his pistol tightened ever so slightly. "What game are you playing at, woman?" he asked, voice colder now, a trace of unease creeping in.
And then, without hesitation, Esdeath spoke the words that would send shockwaves through the battlefield: "I am carrying Tatsumi's child."