Super Robot Wars: Calamitous Dawn

sir_fire

Distinguished
Somewhere in Massachusetts, Year 7 of the Post-Amalgamation era.



Inside a sleepy New England suburb, a Harley Davidson V-Rod rides low and slow across the streets, with its rider, covered from head to toe carefully handling his bike's throttle as not to awaken the neighborhood or draw any undue attention to himself, at least any more than what he's already getting as his ride isn't exactly something one would usually see in a place as dreadfully dull and stereotypically peaceful as this. At the very least it was mostly the glances of snot-nosed brats or old farts that he was attracting and not some teenagers who would honestly just complicate things if they decided to trail him like the turbo-revving punks that they are.

As he scanned row upon row of maddeningly similar houses, with each building slowly blurring and blending together into the background, forming an endless plain of whites and greys that was perfectly flat and ordered, unnaturally so; as if he was riding across a sea of clouds that neither moved nor thinned, for there was no wind, no life to move them... This place was honestly worse than any of the decrepit ruins or haunted tombs he had visited, those at least had that feeling that they were once alive and had majesty to them, not like this... Sterile hive. The rider, for the sake of his steadily-eroding sanity, makes a call on his handlebar-mounted phone to the one who had sent him to this hellish location. Anything to give his eyes cause to tear away from the mosaic of horror.

"Hey, Are you absolutely sure that he lives here?"

A slight pause as the caller responds, evidently through an earpiece as the phone's speakers were utterly silent.

"What if you're wrong and it's a different guy but with the same name? Unlike you, I actually met and interacted with him, and believe me when I say that he'd rather go face to face with the boss again than live in a place like this."

...

"Yes, I know people change as they grow up. But have you actually been into a suburb in person? You'd change your tune once you see this... Hell for yourself."

"Oh alright, but if I don't find him here, you better pay upfront. Oh and make sure you prepare a recording of yourself admitting that you aren't always right and-"

But then the biker's tongue gets caught in his throat as he catches sight of a blue-eyed Caucasian man with slicked-back dirty blonde hair parking an SUV into a driveway, the man was the very image of a white man; but that wasn't the problem, rather, the rider knew that face... One that he wouldn't ever forget... Struck dumb at resurfaced memories, his absolutely horrid luck, and the fact that he let the guy on the other side of the line get one over him again, the rider sucks in air through his teeth before at last responding.

"You're despicable..."

Ending the call then and there, totally because the prize was right in front of him and not that he didn't want to hear from the guy on the other side of the line, no siree, the rider carefully approaches as the blonde gets out of his SUV. Creeping closer up until the man was in the middle of the lawn, the biker then loudly whistles to get his attention; just as the hog comes to a stop right by the sidewalk.

The man turns to the hog-riding hellion with a look of exasperated confusion, he didn't order anything, nor did his girlfriend. Could the rider be lost or something? But then all the color on his face drains upon hearing what the rider had to say...

"Hey Rad that you?! It's been a while!"



Despite the friendly tone of the biker, there was a clear undercut of malice and contempt in his voice; his voice... Bradley "Rad" White knew exactly whose voice that was and he knew that the thing that had that voice was supposed to be dead...

"Oh god, oh god!!!"

Not even thinking, Bradley bolts towards the front door of his home as fast as his legs could carry him; only to be stopped in his tracks by a deafening thunderclap... And his world devolving into pure agony as his right knee exploded into a shower of blood and bone, sending him rolling across the lawn. Staring in stupefied horror at the bloody stump and the... Thing pointing a smoking shotgun at him, all Brad could do was scream.

"Gottem."

Stepping off the hog as he twirled the shotgun's lever in a way much like that of a certain robotic assassin, biker leisurely strolls towards his victim, who was now desperately crawling to the door before putting a stop to that by shooting his hand off, earning him another round of screams before rolling his victim over with a firm push of his boot. He wanted this filthy animal's last sight to be him and him alone...

"Unicron sends his regards."

A final thunderclap, then followed by a thin trail of smoke remained transfixed on the air as the shotgun was thrown into the grass, in short time witnesses slowly stumbled upon a scene of horror that would shatter their dreamlike peace forever all while the roar of a hog echoes across suburbia like a dirge...

SUPER ROBOT WARS: CALAMITOUS DAWN

April 1st, 0010
P.A Thalerhof airbase, outskirts of Styria, Austria
1325 hours
16°C | 60.8°F Weather: Clear
---------------------------------

"-And with the brazen and heartless assassination of Bradley White was the fall of the United States assured-"

The TV was suddenly shut off by an NCO.

"Hey! I was watching that!"

"Turn that shit off rookie, that's clearly sanitized propaganda by those twits from BBC. Damn tommies hate America to the point of looking dumb. And besides, your break's over; get back to it."

"Right Sargeant..."

With that, the rookie rejoins the ranks of trainees and reservists as the base trudges towards its early afternoon routine, the men and women appropriately dressed to ward off the spring cold attempting to crawl into their skin begin their monotonous firing drills under the watchful eyes of instructors, calibrating their aim and to grow accustomed to their weapons with coordinated training on the shooting range, as well as running through physical conditioning and exercises on the practice field. Meanwhile, on the interiors of the base, members of the Austrian Luftstreitkräfte undergo their own type of training: Simulations and G-Force resistance drills. All to ensure every single enlisted soldier inside, combatants and rear-echelon troops alike, were battle-ready at a moment's notice. A grim necessity in times like these and any time wasted cannot be afforded.

The base commander's office was clean, organized, and maintained, to regulation standards at the very least. The very man himself in the task of overseeing the air base's operations, Colonel Steiner sat in his office, going through the reports written and provided by his subordinates with a rather bored expression. As unexciting as his task was, he honestly wouldn't have it any other way, better the boring and predictable over the uncertain and chaotic as he always liked to say. But as he goes through the paperwork, one particular report caught his eye, causing him to cock an eyebrow in interest.

"A demonstration of a new-model machine in a few days hosted by... Rayleonard?"

He knows the name well, as a matter of fact; some of his peers and a lot of his superiors really wouldn't shut up about it. They were a rising star in the military-industrial complex, having made a lot of waves with a new method of processing and exploiting G-Elements for the generation of cheap, accessible energy in wake of Nuclear Fission made no longer feasible by those damned "N-Jammers" but more importantly: The development of what the company claimed; rather arrogantly in his own opinion was: "The only mech mankind would ever need."

Having seen some of the articles and a few classified test recordings of this newfangled "NEXT" mech, he really didn't see what the big deal was. Sure they were fast and had way more energy to spare than even the most souped-up Valiancer model thanks to a G-Element fueled generator, but to say that those things would be the new universal fighting machine? Sorely reminds him of the Wunderwaffe of the 2nd World War: Way too optimistic and ambitious. As he reads the report, it seems that the top brass doesn't seem to share his opinion as there were some real bigshots from the various member nations of the FPA coming to visit his little slice of heaven to watch Rayleonard's shiny new toy in the coming days.

Being getting way too absorbed into the report, it was easy for Steiner's adjutant to surprise his superior when a winded Lt. Orban came barging through the door. There was no real rush, so why did the lieutenant even bother moving at such a pace? Orban's lips moved, his jaw swung back and forth in a feeble attempt at speech. But the man was excessively winded and little more than gasping gibberish came from the depths of his throat.

Col. Steiner raised an apprehensive hand without having his reading gaze leave the report. "Calm down, soldier. Take a moment to breathe. What's the hurry?"

Orban waved a dismissive, waving hand into the air. "Ah, sir! I was on my way to deliver my report but one of the guys tripped my foot. I stubbed my toe into the wall and-"

Steiner interrupts the lieutenant with a second apprehensive hand. The colonel's foot mildly pushed against the floor, causing the beam of his office chair to spin back and forth in both directions of the clock. The room went silent long enough for an awkward silence to settle, except for Orban's loud, deep breathing. Such awkwardness failed to sink into Steiner himself, who was still semi-absorbed into the report.

"Out with it, lieutenant." The colonel demanded, breaking the silence at last.

"Sir, it's gonna be here in an hour."

"What is?"

Orban blinked twice in confusion. "... The Rayleonard demonstrator unit to be tested in a couple of days."

Steiner's forehead, and his brows by extension, frowned in response to this new information. The man finally slammed his report face down on his desk and directed his full attention to his adjutant.

"And why are you telling me this just now?!"

"I uh... I told you a couple of days ago, sir! You even said that you got it!"

Steiner's eyes rolled towards the floor as the man attempted to draw such a moment from memory. Did he really say that? Was it his brain switching into autopilot? Rubbing his temples in irritation, the Steiner loudly sighs to help with the growing headache.

"Mein Gott... Well, no use crying over what's past. Tell the techs to get a hangar ready for our guests."

"At once Si-"

"-The one furthest from the rest of the base. I don't want to hear about any of my men growing an extra finger or something standing too close to one of those things."

"It will be done, Sir! Oh and the air traffic control just got word of a few UN contractor planes inbound for the base, should I-."

"Yes, yes get the reservations ready for the mercs too. I'd have thought you'd have gotten used to how this place runs already."

"O-Of course sir!"

With that Orban finally leaves.

"Kid's way too eager for his own good..."

Steiner then looks over a stack of papers over on the side of his desk, a bunch of registration documents for UN contractors coming and going from his base, or as he liked to call them: Hotel booking forms.

"Maybe I should've just gotten that course for hotel management, could've been paid better for doing the exact same thing I'm doing nowadays..."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Unknown Date
Unknown location
Early Morning?
Unknown Meteorological data
---------------------------------
It is dark, cold and silent. You do not know how or why you got here, but before everything went black, all you remember seeing is... Everything. And also Nothing... It was difficult, if not impossible to describe or even visualize what you had witnessed, perhaps your mind was not capable of truly comprehending what you had seen. But somehow, you know deep within, in your soul that, what was seen, was something not meant to be seen, even if you don't truly remember or recognize what it was.



But then... The Darkness slowly gives way, as Light began to rise beyond the horizon, heralding the dawn. And with the light comes clarity and noise. Everywhere the light touched: A smudge of yellows and brows of sand and stone and dust, the howling of the dry wind eerily echoes over the vast expanse and the light above, the blazing sun; quickly banishes the cold away, replacing it with harsh, choking heat.

This is indeed a desert... But one you've clearly never been to. And how did you get here even?
 
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Sigismund

Moderator
Moderator
The mechanical giant once more shook. The Ignus's sensory system shoving its feedback information into my brain, impatient with my lack of commands after... whatever just occurred.

Finally I was dragged from my stupor, into the surrounding desert. My experiences with the immaterium had never left me in such a state, which after several Inquisitiorial missions is a hollow shock to recount.

The last recollection I have to before the blank was being on a combat drop to cut off the flank of a Deamon Engine's supporting Renegade Knights. Was it possible I was discovered and my resulting appearance here was the result of a Vortex missle?

My "soul", as the Inquisitior took to calling it, I rarely expanded beyond the reach and protections of the wards and sigals on Ignus. However as a expanded my "will" out, I felt no pushback or constant storming.

I didn't feel the gaze of the horrors beyond.

It seems that realization even gave pause to Ignus. We stood frozen once again, uncomphrending of what was revealed.

Between Iguns's sensors and my "will" we could determine only that we had no idea where we were.

No connection fron Ignus to the Noosphere, no vox channels, and nothing even attempting to rend apart my soul and being from the beyond.


In unison, neither of us could truly understand. Maybe it was the affect of whatever sent us, maybe my soul had too much affect upon Ignus, but once again it was sensor feedback that snapped us back from... fantasies? Thoughts of beyond? Even now I can't fully recall what Ignus and I thought in that time.

Ignus and I focused immediately upon what was registered.

About 1 meter infront of Ignus's left leg was was appeared to be a thin and long reptile using an appendage to cause a rattling noise.

For a fleeting moment I found myself disappointed in myself. An agent of the Omnissiah's Inquisition, a Scion to an Acreotech Knight that was more advanced than most Titans... and we were jumping nervous at a vermin who had no possible way to harm us.


With this thought, I pushed forward on the dual controls of the Knight and sent forth my will into it.

We were moving out. To where, no idea


But I doubted standing still with only a reptile for company in the desert would do anything for our situation.


So Ignus lurched forward, and we moved out to whatever this plane held.
 

TrickOLF

Active member
Somewhere in Massachusetts, Year 7 of the Post-Amalgamation era.
SUPER ROBOT WARS: CALAMITOUS DAWN


April 1st, 0010
P.A Thalerhof airbase, outskirts of Styria, Austria
1325 hours
16°C | 60.8°F Weather: Clear
---------------------------------

"-And with the brazen and heartless assassination of Bradley White was the fall of the United States assured-"

The TV was suddenly shut off by an NCO.

"Hey! I was watching that!"

"Turn that shit off rookie, that's clearly sanitized propaganda by those twits from BBC. Damn tommies hate America to the point of looking dumb. And besides, your break's over; get back to it."

"Right Sargeant..."

With that, the rookie rejoins the ranks of trainees and reservists as the base trudges towards its early afternoon routine, the men and women appropriately dressed to ward off the spring cold attempting to crawl into their skin begin their monotonous firing drills under the watchful eyes of instructors, calibrating their aim and to grow accustomed to their weapons with coordinated training on the shooting range, as well as running through physical conditioning and exercises on the practice field. Meanwhile, on the interiors of the base, members of the Austrian Luftstreitkräfte undergo their own type of training: Simulations and G-Force resistance drills. All to ensure every single enlisted soldier inside, combatants and rear-echelon troops alike, were battle-ready at a moment's notice. A grim necessity in times like these and any time wasted cannot be afforded.

The base commander's office was clean, organized, and maintained, to regulation standards at the very least. The very man himself in the task of overseeing the air base's operations, Colonel Steiner sat in his office, going through the reports written and provided by his subordinates with a rather bored expression. As unexciting as his task was, he honestly wouldn't have it any other way, better the boring and predictable over the uncertain and chaotic as he always liked to say. But as he goes through the paperwork, one particular report caught his eye, causing him to cock an eyebrow in interest.

"A demonstration of a new-model machine in a few days hosted by... Rayleonard?"

He knows the name well, as a matter of fact; some of his peers and a lot of his superiors really wouldn't shut up about it. They were a rising star in the military-industrial complex, having made a lot of waves with a new method of processing and exploiting G-Elements for the generation of cheap, accessible energy in wake of Nuclear Fission made no longer feasible by those damned "N-Jammers" but more importantly: The development of what the company claimed; rather arrogantly in his own opinion was: "The only mech mankind would ever need."

Having seen some of the articles and a few classified test recordings of this newfangled "NEXT" mech, he really didn't see what the big deal was. Sure they were fast and had way more energy to spare than even the most souped-up Valiancer model thanks to a G-Element fueled generator, but to say that those things would be the new universal fighting machine? Sorely reminds him of the Wunderwaffe of the 2nd World War: Way too optimistic and ambitious. As he reads the report, it seems that the top brass doesn't seem to share his opinion as there were some real bigshots from the various member nations of the FPA coming to visit his little slice of heaven to watch Rayleonard's shiny new toy in the coming days.

Being getting way too absorbed into the report, it was easy for Steiner's adjutant to surprise his superior when a winded Lt. Orban came barging through the door. There was no real rush, so why did the lieutenant even bother moving at such a pace? Orban's lips moved, his jaw swung back and forth in a feeble attempt at speech. But the man was excessively winded and little more than gasping gibberish came from the depths of his throat.

Col. Steiner raised an apprehensive hand without having his reading gaze leave the report. "Calm down, soldier. Take a moment to breathe. What's the hurry?"

Orban waved a dismissive, waving hand into the air. "Ah, sir! I was on my way to deliver my report but one of the guys tripped my foot. I stubbed my toe into the wall and-"

Steiner interrupts the lieutenant with a second apprehensive hand. The colonel's foot mildly pushed against the floor, causing the beam of his office chair to spin back and forth in both directions of the clock. The room went silent long enough for an awkward silence to settle, except for Orban's loud, deep breathing. Such awkwardness failed to sink into Steiner himself, who was still semi-absorbed into the report.

"Out with it, lieutenant." The colonel demanded, breaking the silence at last.

"Sir, it's gonna be here in an hour."

"What is?"

Orban blinked twice in confusion. "... The Rayleonard demonstrator unit to be tested in a couple of days."

Steiner's forehead, and his brows by extension, frowned in response to this new information. The man finally slammed his report face down on his desk and directed his full attention to his adjutant.

"And why are you telling me this just now?!"

"I uh... I told you a couple of days ago, sir! You even said that you got it!"

Steiner's eyes rolled towards the floor as the man attempted to draw such a moment from memory. Did he really say that? Was it his brain switching into autopilot? Rubbing his temples in irritation, the Steiner loudly sighs to help with the growing headache.

"Mein Gott... Well, no use crying over what's past. Tell the techs to get a hangar ready for our guests."

"At once Si-"

"-The one furthest from the rest of the base. I don't want to hear about any of my men growing an extra finger or something standing too close to one of those things."

"It will be done, Sir! Oh and the air traffic control just got word of a few UN contractor planes inbound for the base, should I-."

"Yes, yes get the reservations ready for the mercs too. I'd have thought you'd have gotten used to how this place runs already."

"O-Of course sir!"

With that Orban finally leaves.

"Kid's way too eager for his own good..."

Steiner then looks over a stack of papers over on the side of his desk, a bunch of registration documents for UN contractors coming and going from his base, or as he liked to call them: Hotel booking forms.

"Maybe I should've just gotten that course for hotel management, could've been paid better for doing the exact same thing I'm doing nowadays..."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Somewhere, near the airbase, on an open field...

Ugh...my head...what the hell happened?

I feel a bit sluggish...plus, the way I'm sleeping, it doesn't feel like my bed...more like a chair...what's going on...

I open my eyes, and I am beholden to a clear sky, and...quite a nice atmosphere, in fact. But it's not as nice as to what I'm sitting on. The cockpit looks familiar somehow, as I am sitting in what can be compared to a cockpit...but a cockpit to what, I don't know. It certainly doesn't feel like any cockpit that's...conventional. The seat is too comfy, it's a bit spacious...and the controls look like an airplane's but at the same time, some features of a motorcycle clearly are in there...plus, there's also a glovebox that looks to be jutted open. Not exactly like, broken or anything, but clearly, it can be opened forcefully without breaking it.

...so I did. And out fell-agh, fuck, that smarts...

A book, that hit me in the face.

As soon as I picked up the book, my reaction went from confusion...to a big sense of amazement. I couldn't believe my eyes. I opened it.

Controls for the craft I'm piloting, which was the HOVER PILDER, the weapons loadout, which contains a ROCKET PUNCH and BREAST FIRE, the specs and capabilities, which the notes describe as "the eternal castle of IRON", and finally, it's strengths and weaknesses and how to use them to their advantage...

I couldn't believe it. I opened up the Pilder, to which, my surprise, responds to the controls just fine. Wow. It's not down?

I went on out...and I couldn't believe my eyes.

I'm standing on top of what is the grandfather of all things Super Robot in the world...the damn awesome mech piloted by Koji Kabuto, the grandson of Juzo Kabuto...

I'm in Mazinger Z. I'M IN MAZINGER Z.

HOLY SHIT, THIS IS THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE.


As I get back onto the Pilder and close the cockpit...I then wondered to myself...

"How the hell do I turn this thing on?"
 
Last edited:

sir_fire

Distinguished
Somewhere, near the airbase, on an open field...

Ugh...my head...what the hell happened?

I feel a bit sluggish...plus, the way I'm sleeping, it doesn't feel like my bed...more like a chair...what's going on...

I open my eyes, and I am beholden to a clear sky, and...quite a nice atmosphere, in fact. But it's not as nice as to what I'm sitting on. The cockpit looks familiar somehow, as I am sitting in what can be compared to a cockpit...but a cockpit to what, I don't know. It certainly doesn't feel like any cockpit that's...conventional. The seat is too comfy, it's a bit spacious...and the controls look like an airplane's but at the same time, some features of a motorcycle clearly are in there...plus, there's also a glovebox that looks to be jutted open. Not exactly like, broken or anything, but clearly, it can be opened forcefully without breaking it.

...so I did. And out fell-agh, fuck, that smarts...

A book, that hit me in the face.

As soon as I picked up the book, my reaction went from confusion...to a big sense of amazement. I couldn't believe my eyes. I opened it.

Controls for the craft I'm piloting, which was the HOVER PILDER, the weapons loadout, which contains a ROCKET PUNCH and BREAST FIRE, the specs and capabilities, which the notes describe as "the eternal castle of IRON", and finally, it's strengths and weaknesses and how to use them to their advantage...

I couldn't believe it. I opened up the Pilder, to which, my surprise, responds to the controls just fine. Wow. It's not down?

I went on out...and I couldn't believe my eyes.

I'm standing on top of what is the grandfather of all things Super Robot in the world...the damn awesome mech piloted by Koji Kabuto, the grandson of Juzo Kabuto...

I'm in Mazinger Z. I'M IN MAZINGER Z.

HOLY SHIT, THIS IS THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE.


As I get back onto the Pilder and close the cockpit...I then wondered to myself...

"How the hell do I turn this thing on?"
If Tyzell was finished having an episode over the fact that he was aboard by what all accounts was something that had only been possible within the realm of science fiction, he would take note of picturesque meadows, gentle hills, and temperate woodlands stretching over yonder; broken only by distant, jagged forms of alabaster-crowned peaks upon the horizon, softly illuminated by the early afternoon sun and a beautiful, cloudless sky. Aside from the fact that his current location was absolutely breathtaking and likely the sort of backdrop that would find itself pictured on a fancy desktop calendar, it was clear that the young man wasn't in Visayas anymore...
 

TrickOLF

Active member
If Tyzell was finished having an episode over the fact that he was aboard by what all accounts was something that had only been possible within the realm of science fiction, he would take note of picturesque meadows, gentle hills, and temperate woodlands stretching over yonder; broken only by distant, jagged forms of alabaster-crowned peaks upon the horizon, softly illuminated by the early afternoon sun and a beautiful, cloudless sky. Aside from the fact that his current location was absolutely breathtaking and likely the sort of backdrop that would find itself pictured on a fancy desktop calendar, it was clear that the young man wasn't in Visayas anymore...

Agh, I can't figure out to turn this on for now...I'll read the book later.

I got out of the Pilder, getting onto the Mazinger as I tried to comprehend the area on me. Where I am.

...well, I'm certainly not at home anymore. Home never has a better view than this. Like seriously, this environment is fucking awesomesauce. But hey, that just means I'm not at home no more, that is. So I'm probably in another world.

Getting back into my Pilder, I took my time and read the book, before putting it away in the glove box and closing it.

"Alright, Z...let's get you up and running!" I declared as I then I pressed the button, revved up the engines...and the systems come to life...

And I can feel it rumbling and...everything seemed to check out. Integrity, systems, weapons and all! Alright, I got a full-powered Mazinger ready to go!

Now it was only time to declare the activation phrase! SCREAM INTO YOUR HEART:

"MAZIN.....GO!"

And the Mazinger got up with an easy jump, flexing in a pose as he got on lock.

...that was my added flair, look, it's hella cool, okay?!
 

Cavaliere

Notorious
William "Liam" Tinmall
<<<Ø>>>
The last thing Liam remembered was a Mobile Suit Test.
It was not anything unusual on the Virtue, the Archangel-Class ship and its crew were a testing team after all, but that day they were not testing one of the Suits themselves, instead focussing their attention on an Anomaly they encountered.
The Amalgamation happened almost a decade ago, and yet people still talked in fear of what it brought: Earth, from what little of it had seen between his visits, was in a state of disarray, almost as if torn between different factions; the aftereffects of the event were still studied, as a scientist discovered more ways in which spacetime had been torn asunder and portions of space in which physics just stopped making sense at all.

Today, they encountered one of those anomalies.

His superiors threw a fit as he petitioned for the Null to be the Suit to get the environmental data.
Who in their right mind would risk the experimental machine they were tasked to test after all, but in the end he managed to win the argument, formulating it as a stress test for the reactor and a way to collect data over a length of time that no single Windam or Dagger could manage on its own.

As the memory of the discussion came back in Liam's mind, though, his own words sounded like lies now.
No, the real reason was that Liam was curious, a scientist again after so many months of being a pilot.
So he got closer and took a peek and...
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Unknown Date
Unknown location
Early Morning?
Unknown Meteorological data
---------------------------------
It is dark, cold and silent. You do not know how or why you got here, but before everything went black, all you remember seeing is... Everything. And also Nothing... It was difficult, if not impossible to describe or even visualize what you had witnessed, perhaps your mind was not capable of truly comprehending what you had seen. But somehow, you know deep within, in your soul that, what was seen, was something not meant to be seen, even if you don't truly remember or recognize what it was.


But then... The Darkness slowly gives way, as Light began to rise beyond the horizon, heralding the dawn. And with the light comes clarity and noise. Everywhere the light touched: A smudge of yellows and brows of sand and stone and dust, the howling of the dry wind eerily echoes over the vast expanse and the light above, the blazing sun; quickly banishes the cold away, replacing it with harsh, choking heat.

This is indeed a desert... But one you've clearly never been to. And how did you get here even?
That... was...

What was that?

"Ugh..." as he awoke, muscles sore due to having slept in the cramped space of the cockpit, Liam tried to get his bearings.
He was... no, that couldn't be right... and yet the familiar feeling of gravity told him otherwise.

"Opening external cameras, activating scanners" Liam started to work frantically inside the cockpit of the Null, going over the pre-launch sequence to activate the Zero-Point Core, singing in relief as the jump-up condensers did their job without issues, discharging the initial energy needed for the core to stabilize the perfect vacuum within.

"Glad you are still with me, Null..."
 

Sigismund

Moderator
Moderator
Far in thr range of Iguns's sensors, less than 20 Kilos away just beyond the horizon where sand and sky blurred with the heat of the sun, a new contact ping emerged.

And I do say emerged, as even at that range it shouldn't have just suddenly appeared, let alone getting a sensor contact ping of a machine that if the feedback was correct, was a divergent Knight design.

Once more I expanded my mind into the desert.

Normally doing so at such a scale, even with my training, would have been prohibitvly expensive and certainly would have lead to problems with the warp. Yet here, my will flowed far further with far less effort. Despite that, once I felt the area the contact emerged from, I didn't fell any warp disturbance.

My grasp at that range for any warp sensing of my own was obviously limited by inexperience, but I did get the ...idea? Concept? Picture?

I knew the contact was nominally Human.

It didn't seem that the networks between our machines did not automatically sync up, confirming the divergence of the Knight design and presumably its communication and sensor array.

Despite this, I did send off a general vox channel hail and Noosphere pulse in the direction of the Divergent Knight as Ignus turned our cruise across the desert in its direction.

Let's just hope they speak Gothic
 

Cavaliere

Notorious
Far in thr range of Iguns's sensors, less than 20 Kilos away just beyond the horizon where sand and sky blurred with the heat of the sun, a new contact ping emerged.

And I do say emerged, as even at that range it shouldn't have just suddenly appeared, let alone getting a sensor contact ping of a machine that if the feedback was correct, was a divergent Knight design.

Once more I expanded my mind into the desert.

Normally doing so at such a scale, even with my training, would have been prohibitvly expensive and certainly would have lead to problems with the warp. Yet here, my will flowed far further with far less effort. Despite that, once I felt the area the contact emerged from, I didn't fell any warp disturbance.

My grasp at that range for any warp sensing of my own was obviously limited by inexperience, but I did get the ...idea? Concept? Picture?

I knew the contact was nominally Human.

It didn't seem that the networks between our machines did not automatically sync up, confirming the divergence of the Knight design and presumably its communication and sensor array.

Despite this, I did send off a general vox channel hail and Noosphere pulse in the direction of the Divergent Knight as Ignus turned our cruise across the desert in its direction.

Let's just hope they speak Gothic
William "Liam" Tinmall
<<<Ø>>>
As the startup sequence finished and the Core reached maximum output, the Null system received a peculiar transmission.
Something was trying to communicate, but they either didn't know that frequency or, due to incompatible instruments, the signal was too scrambled to be legible.

It did seem friendly... maybe?

Checking that the weapons were in working order after... whatever happened, Liam took to the sky with a press of the pedal, glad that the grey and orange Aile Pack could work under gravity.

"Testing, testing" as he flew, Liam was trying to reach back to the mysterious signal, checking for various methods of transfer, but it seemed that it would be faster to reach the source, as it was just over the mountain.

With a deep breath, Liam landed before a shorter machine: built with a noticeable hunch, the Suit was like a walking tank, the head (which Liam noted had a mono-eye) was set deep into the shoulder while the servos were covered in thick layers of metal, weapons proudly displayed in place of arms.

"Uh... hello?" He said with the external speakers, still trying to communicate in other ways, but at least it was a start?
 

Sigismund

Moderator
Moderator
William "Liam" Tinmall
<<<Ø>>>
As the startup sequence finished and the Core reached maximum output, the Null system received a peculiar transmission.
Something was trying to communicate, but they either didn't know that frequency or, due to incompatible instruments, the signal was too scrambled to be legible.

It did seem friendly... maybe?

Checking that the weapons were in working order after... whatever happened, Liam took to the sky with a press of the pedal, glad that the grey and orange Aile Pack could work under gravity.

"Testing, testing" as he flew, Liam was trying to reach back to the mysterious signal, checking for various methods of transfer, but it seemed that it would be faster to reach the source, as it was just over the mountain.

With a deep breath, Liam landed before a shorter machine: built with a noticeable hunch, the Suit was like a walking tank, the head (which Liam noted had a mono-eye) was set deep into the shoulder while the servos were covered in thick layers of metal, weapons proudly displayed in place of arms.

"Uh... hello?" He said with the external speakers, still trying to communicate in other ways, but at least it was a start?
Feedback from the sensors flooded into my mind as the contact was able to accend and decend 20 kilometers in less than a minute. It seemed the open hail was picked up.

The machine that fell from the sky took upon the full stance of a human, holding a large shield in its left arm and a large barrelled weapon in its right.

It seemed thr pilot decided that just using the Knight's inbuilt megaphone was the quickest way. I couldn't disagree.

The pilot gave his own hail, thankfully wherever he was from, he spoke something near to much to Gothic that I could understand .



So I opened with my own, thankful the Tech preists hadn't removed it in favor of some Archana Tech than neither I nor Ignus really knew how to use, much less what it did.

"Hail, would you happen to have been transported here by unknown methods and have a memory hole of indeterminate scale?"
 

Crimson Dragoon

Exceptional
Unknown Date
Unknown location
Early Morning?
Unknown Meteorological data
---------------------------------
It is dark, cold and silent. You do not know how or why you got here, but before everything went black, all you remember seeing is... Everything. And also Nothing... It was difficult, if not impossible to describe or even visualize what you had witnessed, perhaps your mind was not capable of truly comprehending what you had seen. But somehow, you know deep within, in your soul that, what was seen, was something not meant to be seen, even if you don't truly remember or recognize what it was.



But then... The Darkness slowly gives way, as Light began to rise beyond the horizon, heralding the dawn. And with the light comes clarity and noise. Everywhere the light touched: A smudge of yellows and brows of sand and stone and dust, the howling of the dry wind eerily echoes over the vast expanse and the light above, the blazing sun; quickly banishes the cold away, replacing it with harsh, choking heat.

This is indeed a desert... But one you've clearly never been to. And how did you get here even?

The last thing Daniel remembered before blacking out was taking the Aeolus for another test run, pushing the limits of its speed and maneuverability. There was a moment of turbulence and everything went dark. When he came to, he was greeted with the sight of a desert, the sun above being overbearing. It was an unfamiliar sight to Daniel, since he’s never been here in his life until now. How he ended up in the ass end of nowhere was beyond him. He couldn’t remember anything beyond the apparently botched test run which somehow lead to this place.

Daniel checked if everything was in proper working order and fortunately, it was. The Aeolus suffered no serious damage, a testament to his luck, maybe. He tried to contact his superiors in the AF, but there was no response, no matter how many times he did it. A sigh escaped from his lips. This wasn’t the best situation to wake up to.
 

Cavaliere

Notorious
So I opened with my own, thankful the Tech preists hadn't removed it in favor of some Archana Tech than neither I nor Ignus really knew how to use, much less what it did.

"Hail, would you happen to have been transported here by unknown methods and have a memory hole of indeterminate scale?"
William "Liam" Tinmall
<<<Ø>>>
That seemed oddly specific and eerily familiar, a spot on description of what happened to Liam himself.

Even if, in his case, he at least knew that it was his fault he was in this mess in rhe first place.

"I-i-i... w-well yes. It happened. I met an anomaly caused by the Amalgamation and flew too close..."

By the way his voice was wavering, Liam nervousness was palpable making the Scientist glad that the Null couldn't fidget alongside him. That would be just shameful.

"I'm test pilot Doctor William Tinmall, and this is the GAT-X1000 Null, but you can call me Liam."

Maybe he should have been so eager to introduce his creation to an unknown, but at times his ego and pride for what he had done put a dent in hus self control.

The Null was His creation and no one waa going to show him up, a mantra that he made sure to repeat to himself every now and then.
Maybe this way he would feel less of a fake.
 

Sigismund

Moderator
Moderator
William "Liam" Tinmall
<<<Ø>>>
That seemed oddly specific and eerily familiar, a spot on description of what happened to Liam himself.

Even if, in his case, he at least knew that it was his fault he was in this mess in rhe first place.

"I-i-i... w-well yes. It happened. I met an anomaly caused by the Amalgamation and flew too close..."

By the way his voice was wavering, Liam nervousness was palpable making the Scientist glad that the Null couldn't fidget alongside him. That would be just shameful.

"I'm test pilot Doctor William Tinmall, and this is the GAT-X1000 Null, but you can call me Liam."

Maybe he should have been so eager to introduce his creation to an unknown, but at times his ego and pride for what he had done put a dent in hus self control.

The Null was His creation and no one waa going to show him up, a mantra that he made sure to repeat to himself every now and then.
Maybe this way he would feel less of a fake.
Amalgamation. The mere thought of amalgamation was an incomprehensible nightmare when the Warp was involved, yet it seemed it had created a calm area.

Also it means that I wasn't transported via Vortex missle. That raised rather disturbing questions of what my final moments had been.


Then he introduced himself. In order my own introduction was required to that of another knight, I could sense no corruption upon him or his machine, so honor was due.

"I am Valrin Haldentum, Knight Scion to Iudicii Ignus."

Right after I finished saying that, a new contact was picked up, back into the desert.

"New contact, due south but a fair bit out for me."
 

The Ancient Purple

Active member
Earlier this morning...
-------------------------------------------------

Finding an unexplained discomfort on the bottom of the military standard bunker bed assigned into her room shared with rows of other women, a mildly short, pale skinned woman bearing a long purple hair suddenly opens her eyes. Confused as to just what threw her off the standard sleeping schedule, Helen Adrien instantly knew she wasn't falling back into dormancy with ease. As such, without making any noise, the purple head slowly pushed her way off her bed, rubbing her left eye with the back of her hand.

As she seats up and swings to the side, her feet settle down towards the floor, falling on top of her pair of turquoise fluffy slippers to provide comfort in her short stride. A quick glance was thrown over her shoulder towards the closest window. The dark of night was still deep up there. Helen calculated it must have been anywhere from 3:00 AM to 3:30. Her plan was to sneak out of her room for fifteen minutes to take a quick sip of cold water in order to condition herself back to sleep.

Nobody would notice, right?

Helen carefully waddled in the direction of the door, her eyes forcing themselves against the darkness to observe the floor she threaded on and avoid stepping or stubbing her toe on anything. All of her roommates were currently chasing sheep in a deep slumber. Uneventfully, the newly commissioned officer reaches out for the doorknob. Caution dictated her every move as the door eventually swung open as quietly as it's hinges could manage. She would not allow it to open all the way: As soon as it opened just enough for her to squeeze through and reach the corridor, she does just that, closing the door just as carefully behind her back.

A couple dozen steps away from her position was a cheap water dispenser with a half-empty gallon bottle and an end table next to it with less than a dozen paper cups stacked on top of it, at the very least supply and admin ensured that there was always clean drinking water available. Helen made her way through the corridor to reach it. But... As she passed in front of a closed window to the outside, the corner of her eye caught a small glimpse of an indeterminate shape zooming past the window outside. It instantly drew an inquisitive glance from her, What was that? A leaf set loose by the wind? Or perhaps a night owl making a 'friendly' visit?

'Must be just my imagination...' She thought, her desire to dismiss a potential trick played in her mind physically manifesting in a head shaking gesture.

After properly addressing the mild distraction, Helen's path towards the water dispenser resumed. Yet another inexplicable urge arrives; the woman found herself squinting hard against the lightless corridor, and her spine was tingling as if there were ants marching on her back as her throat suddenly dried up. A single bead of cold sweat began sliding down the side of her forehead, brushed off with a finger. Helen could seldom comprehend what she felt. It could have been her subconscious absorbing the gloomy atmosphere of the lonely corridors and translating into an unsettling sensation.

At last, she reached the dispenser. As her right arm reaches out to treat herself into one of the stacked paper cups, she noted the fact that it was trembling on it's own. The muscles in her fingers and the rest of the arm giving her the impression that they want to be locked in place and only hesitantly budging rather than simply reaching forwards, making the simple ordeal of grabbing hold of a paper cup and withdrawing some water from the dispenser into it that much more difficult.

Finally, she's had her cup ready, slowly turning around preparing to take the cup into her lips. But a harsh, breath-taking interruption finds its way as a tall figure emerges from the cover of the dark, lunging and reaching out for the ensign. Helen barely had a fraction of a second to react before she found herself with her back suddenly slammed against the wall and completely cornered by this tall, bulky, shadowy figure whose identifying features were hiding both behind a thick black cloak and in the shroud of the dark. All of it adding up to make for something unidentifiable and vague, save for the humanoid shape of their figure.

Helen wanted to scream, but the fiend had already clamped her mouth shut with its massive palm. She wanted to move, but her trembling body would not respond. The helplessness began to sink into her being as she clenched her fists and her eyes started darting about in terror as her irises shrunk, drawing the shadow figure to lean down and deeply look into her eyes with a yellow-eyed glare. One that leaked a torrent of murderous intent through the eye sockets of the mask colored anywhere in-between a crimson and a profound velvet red.

On the other hand, the stalker wielded a knife with a blackened blade: The metal that composed the blade glistened with a dull light as shine from the lamppost outside shimmered through the windows. The weapon's tip was slowly dragged across the side of Helen's neck, drawing rivulets of blood as it made its way up, the fiend was toying with her, as if he already knew that there wouldn't be any escape or miracle for his victim, therefore there was no real need for hurry in order to deliver a clean, killing blow. Clenching the blade tightly, the razor-sharp tip eventually comes to an end right behind her ear, just as the fiend speaks in an, empty bone-chilling tone.

"For be it my mask, or be it your blood, red will be the last color that you'll ever see."

And then, Helen's vision fills with red and she would know of nothing else...
April 1st, 0010
P.A Thalerhof airbase, outskirts of Styria, Austria
1325 hours
16°C | 60.8°F Weather: Clear
---------------------------------

"-And with the brazen and heartless assassination of Bradley White was the fall of the United States assured-"

The TV was suddenly shut off by an NCO.

"Hey! I was watching that!"

"Turn that shit off rookie, that's clearly sanitized propaganda by those twits from BBC. Damn tommies hate America to the point of looking dumb. And besides, your break's over; get back to it."

"Right Sargeant..."

With that, the rookie rejoins the ranks of trainees and reservists as the base trudges towards its early afternoon routine, the men and women appropriately dressed to ward off the spring cold attempting to crawl into their skin begin their monotonous firing drills under the watchful eyes of instructors, calibrating their aim and to grow accustomed to their weapons with coordinated training on the shooting range, as well as running through physical conditioning and exercises on the practice field. Meanwhile, on the interiors of the base, members of the Austrian Luftstreitkräfte undergo their own type of training: Simulations and G-Force resistance drills. All to ensure every single enlisted soldier inside, combatants and rear-echelon troops alike, were battle-ready at a moment's notice. A grim necessity in times like these and any time wasted cannot be afforded.

The base commander's office was clean, organized, and maintained, to regulation standards at the very least. The very man himself in the task of overseeing the air base's operations, Colonel Steiner sat in his office, going through the reports written and provided by his subordinates with a rather bored expression. As unexciting as his task was, he honestly wouldn't have it any other way, better the boring and predictable over the uncertain and chaotic as he always liked to say. But as he goes through the paperwork, one particular report caught his eye, causing him to cock an eyebrow in interest.

"A demonstration of a new-model machine in a few days hosted by... Rayleonard?"

He knows the name well, as a matter of fact; some of his peers and a lot of his superiors really wouldn't shut up about it. They were a rising star in the military-industrial complex, having made a lot of waves with a new method of processing and exploiting G-Elements for the generation of cheap, accessible energy in wake of Nuclear Fission made no longer feasible by those damned "N-Jammers" but more importantly: The development of what the company claimed; rather arrogantly in his own opinion was: "The only mech mankind would ever need."

Having seen some of the articles and a few classified test recordings of this newfangled "NEXT" mech, he really didn't see what the big deal was. Sure they were fast and had way more energy to spare than even the most souped-up Valiancer model thanks to a G-Element fueled generator, but to say that those things would be the new universal fighting machine? Sorely reminds him of the Wunderwaffe of the 2nd World War: Way too optimistic and ambitious. As he reads the report, it seems that the top brass doesn't seem to share his opinion as there were some real bigshots from the various member nations of the FPA coming to visit his little slice of heaven to watch Rayleonard's shiny new toy in the coming days.

Being getting way too absorbed into the report, it was easy for Steiner's adjutant to surprise his superior when a winded Lt. Orban came barging through the door. There was no real rush, so why did the lieutenant even bother moving at such a pace? Orban's lips moved, his jaw swung back and forth in a feeble attempt at speech. But the man was excessively winded and little more than gasping gibberish came from the depths of his throat.

Col. Steiner raised an apprehensive hand without having his reading gaze leave the report. "Calm down, soldier. Take a moment to breathe. What's the hurry?"

Orban waved a dismissive, waving hand into the air. "Ah, sir! I was on my way to deliver my report but one of the guys tripped my foot. I stubbed my toe into the wall and-"

Steiner interrupts the lieutenant with a second apprehensive hand. The colonel's foot mildly pushed against the floor, causing the beam of his office chair to spin back and forth in both directions of the clock. The room went silent long enough for an awkward silence to settle, except for Orban's loud, deep breathing. Such awkwardness failed to sink into Steiner himself, who was still semi-absorbed into the report.

"Out with it, lieutenant." The colonel demanded, breaking the silence at last.

"Sir, it's gonna be here in an hour."

"What is?"

Orban blinked twice in confusion. "... The Rayleonard demonstrator unit to be tested in a couple of days."

Steiner's forehead, and his brows by extension, frowned in response to this new information. The man finally slammed his report face down on his desk and directed his full attention to his adjutant.

"And why are you telling me this just now?!"

"I uh... I told you a couple of days ago, sir! You even said that you got it!"

Steiner's eyes rolled towards the floor as the man attempted to draw such a moment from memory. Did he really say that? Was it his brain switching into autopilot? Rubbing his temples in irritation, the Steiner loudly sighs to help with the growing headache.

"Mein Gott... Well, no use crying over what's past. Tell the techs to get a hangar ready for our guests."

"At once Si-"

"-The one furthest from the rest of the base. I don't want to hear about any of my men growing an extra finger or something standing too close to one of those things."

"It will be done, Sir! Oh and the air traffic control just got word of a few UN contractor planes inbound for the base, should I-."

"Yes, yes get the reservations ready for the mercs too. I'd have thought you'd have gotten used to how this place runs already."

"O-Of course sir!"

With that Orban finally leaves.

"Kid's way too eager for his own good..."

Steiner then looks over a stack of papers over on the side of his desk, a bunch of registration documents for UN contractors coming and going from his base, or as he liked to call them: Hotel booking forms.

"Maybe I should've just gotten that course for hotel management, could've been paid better for doing the exact same thing I'm doing nowadays..."

Helen was up at 0440 hours that morning, potentially beating the standard scheduled wake up call by twenty or so minutes. The girl's eyes shot open in a stupor, catching every ounce of her body trembling, her sleeping clothes drenched in cold sweat, her lungs gasping for air and a pair of tears sliding down the side of her eyes to fall on the pillow. Fearful of a sudden relapse, she rests her left palm on top of her sternum to verify her heartbeats. The cardiac rythm was unusually agitated. But as the mild relaxation began to gradually settle in, as she'd discover by merely relaxing on her cushion and blankly staring at the ceiling, waiting for time to pass.

As one of the local drill sargeants barged in, yelling for everyone in the room to wake up with the typical trained stern voice while exxaggerating on the ringing of that cursed loud handheld bell, Helen promptly hopped into her feet to start the day proper as per standard, first and foremost treating herself into a warm shower in an attempt to fend off such an unsettling feeling that latched into her spine. To limited success. That and the breakfast time that followed were both integral to the start of her day.

At around 1325 hours, the woman had already been through the standard issue pilot simulation tests and G-Force training, as well as having eaten her first dinner of the day. She's had a rather specific job to do for the day.

And to attend into it, she found herself oriented by one of the materiel technicians to make her way into the hangar while doing her best to subtly hide the disconfort caused by the anxiety burst she's woken into following a terrible nightmare. Many hangars were passed by on her little walk over the catwalks. Each time, Helen's eyes were reflexively drawn into the TSF units deploying on their routine tests and drills as they went and came. Admittedly, she had found a lot more confort in the helm of a TSF. The controls were familiar, the internal layout of the cockpit was nostalgic and she already had a solid grasp on the limitations of a handful of different models.

Today, she would not be piloting a product of her favoured and familiar brand of machine. Her walk suddenly comes into a stop in the front of a particular hangar. One better prepared to handle an experimental unit instead of one the ordinary logstical operator was accustomed to working with. For whatever reason she couldn't care less, there was a brief ten minute delay on her schedule. It was patiently waited through. The pair of doors granting access to the hangar finally slides open, offering a glimpse into what was inside.

Besides the sight of the concrete floor, stained with vestiges of dried grease, the multitude of tools positioned across the small facility for maximum convenience and the engineering technicians working on the background, the hangar was housing a protype machine. The design incorporated into the eighteen meter tall giant weighing around 37 tons was quite different from anything Helen had grown used to over the course of the last decade. It's limbs were coated in white, the armor plate in the body was predominantly blue on the upper rib cage and sternum, red along the side of the hips and a golden yellow on the pair of air intake vents mounted on both sides of the breastplate. The white-colored head sported a peculiar spoiler: A pair of white V-shaped fins mounted in the middle of the forehead. It is supposed to be iconic.

It was called 'the Gundam' as some of the workers had established.

It was not going to be the first time Helen would test this robot for the sake of data gathering on some new power source, but that's saying nothing: It had been just a handful of days since she was assigned into the 'Gundam' following her recent success in the CO academy. She was still in the process of getting used into the unit's control scheme and it's overall combat and mobility capabilities. The ensign takes a deep breath to concentrate through her discrete anxious demeanor.

She had a job to do.
 

Cavaliere

Notorious
Amalgamation. The mere thought of amalgamation was an incomprehensible nightmare when the Warp was involved, yet it seemed it had created a calm area.

Also it means that I wasn't transported via Vortex missle. That raised rather disturbing questions of what my final moments had been.


Then he introduced himself. In order my own introduction was required to that of another knight, I could sense no corruption upon him or his machine, so honor was due.

"I am Valrin Haldentum, Knight Scion to Iudicii Ignus."

Right after I finished saying that, a new contact was picked up, back into the desert.

"New contact, due south but a fair bit out for me."
William "Liam" Tinmall
<<<Ø>>>
Knight Scion?

The title seemed important, maybe a high rank in whatever army he came from, but Liam had to admit he was a little disappointed at the failed introduction of his Suit.
While the design had reminded the scientist of the GFAT-X1 Destroy in its alternate configuration, this machine seemed to have traded any grace or precise mobility for more armor and firepower, a Mobile Armor more than a Mobile Suit.
Maybe there were ways to give it both? Just the opportunity to study the alloy, to see if there were any exotic properties, would be something Liam greatly appreciated, but to get a hand on the machine and tune it?

He was shaken from his muttering and planning by Valrin's voice, allerting him of yet another signal coming their way.

"Uh, yeah, I can investigate. Maybe you can help me with the communication suite? I've been trying to contact you but we may be working on completely different wavelengths..."
 

Sigismund

Moderator
Moderator
William "Liam" Tinmall
<<<Ø>>>
Knight Scion?

The title seemed important, maybe a high rank in whatever army he came from, but Liam had to admit he was a little disappointed at the failed introduction of his Suit.
While the design had reminded the scientist of the GFAT-X1 Destroy in its alternate configuration, this machine seemed to have traded any grace or precise mobility for more armor and firepower, a Mobile Armor more than a Mobile Suit.
Maybe there were ways to give it both? Just the opportunity to study the alloy, to see if there were any exotic properties, would be something Liam greatly appreciated, but to get a hand on the machine and tune it?

He was shaken from his muttering and planning by Valrin's voice, allerting him of yet another signal coming their way.

"Uh, yeah, I can investigate. Maybe you can help me with the communication suite? I've been trying to contact you but we may be working on completely different wavelengths..."
"In that case, I'll have Ingus broadcast a single bar tone across 3 different areas on the open channel area, when you cycle through wavelengths you should be able to hear it while tuning and that should get us an open channel to share. It won't be secure however".

While I was fiddling with the console to set up the gate of bars across Vox Channels, I also sent another open hail at the contact in the desert.
 

Mazin Kiryu

Notorious
Agh, I can't figure out to turn this on for now...I'll read the book later.

I got out of the Pilder, getting onto the Mazinger as I tried to comprehend the area on me. Where I am.

...well, I'm certainly not at home anymore. Home never has a better view than this. Like seriously, this environment is fucking awesomesauce. But hey, that just means I'm not at home no more, that is. So I'm probably in another world.

Getting back into my Pilder, I took my time and read the book, before putting it away in the glove box and closing it.

"Alright, Z...let's get you up and running!" I declared as I then I pressed the button, revved up the engines...and the systems come to life...

And I can feel it rumbling and...everything seemed to check out. Integrity, systems, weapons and all! Alright, I got a full-powered Mazinger ready to go!

Now it was only time to declare the activation phrase! SCREAM INTO YOUR HEART:

"MAZIN.....GO!"

And the Mazinger got up with an easy jump, flexing in a pose as he got on lock.

...that was my added flair, look, it's hella cool, okay?!
Somewhere in Massachusetts, Year 7 of the Post-Amalgamation era.



Inside a sleepy New England suburb, a Harley Davidson V-Rod rides low and slow across the streets, with its rider, covered from head to toe carefully handling his bike's throttle as not to awaken the neighborhood or draw any undue attention to himself, at least any more than what he's already getting as his ride isn't exactly something one would usually see in a place as dreadfully dull and stereotypically peaceful as this. At the very least it was mostly the glances of snot-nosed brats or old farts that he was attracting and not some teenagers who would honestly just complicate things if they decided to trail him like the turbo-revving punks that they are.

As he scanned row upon row of maddeningly similar houses, with each building slowly blurring and blending together into the background, forming an endless plain of whites and greys that was perfectly flat and ordered, unnaturally so; as if he was riding across a sea of clouds that neither moved nor thinned, for there was no wind, no life to move them... This place was honestly worse than any of the decrepit ruins or haunted tombs he had visited, those at least had that feeling that they were once alive and had majesty to them, not like this... Sterile hive. The rider, for the sake of his steadily-eroding sanity, makes a call on his handlebar-mounted phone to the one who had sent him to this hellish location. Anything to give his eyes cause to tear away from the mosaic of horror.

"Hey, Are you absolutely sure that he lives here?"

A slight pause as the caller responds, evidently through an earpiece as the phone's speakers were utterly silent.

"What if you're wrong and it's a different guy but with the same name? Unlike you, I actually met and interacted with him, and believe me when I say that he'd rather go face to face with the boss again than live in a place like this."

...

"Yes, I know people change as they grow up. But have you actually been into a suburb in person? You'd change your tune once you see this... Hell for yourself."

"Oh alright, but if I don't find him here, you better pay upfront. Oh and make sure you prepare a recording of yourself admitting that you aren't always right and-"

But then the biker's tongue gets caught in his throat as he catches sight of a blue-eyed Caucasian man with slicked-back dirty blonde hair parking an SUV into a driveway, the man was the very image of a white man; but that wasn't the problem, rather, the rider knew that face... One that he wouldn't ever forget... Struck dumb at resurfaced memories, his absolutely horrid luck, and the fact that he let the guy on the other side of the line get one over him again, the rider sucks in air through his teeth before at last responding.

"You're despicable..."

Ending the call then and there, totally because the prize was right in front of him and not that he didn't want to hear from the guy on the other side of the line, no siree, the rider carefully approaches as the blonde gets out of his SUV. Creeping closer up until the man was in the middle of the lawn, the biker then loudly whistles to get his attention; just as the hog comes to a stop right by the sidewalk.

The man turns to the hog-riding hellion with a look of exasperated confusion, he didn't order anything, nor did his girlfriend. Could the rider be lost or something? But then all the color on his face drains upon hearing what the rider had to say...

"Hey Rad that you?! It's been a while!"



Despite the friendly tone of the biker, there was a clear undercut of malice and contempt in his voice; his voice... Bradley "Rad" White knew exactly whose voice that was and he knew that the thing that had that voice was supposed to be dead...

"Oh god, oh god!!!"

Not even thinking, Bradley bolts towards the front door of his home as fast as his legs could carry him; only to be stopped in his tracks by a deafening thunderclap... And his world devolving into pure agony as his right knee exploded into a shower of blood and bone, sending him rolling across the lawn. Staring in stupefied horror at the bloody stump and the... Thing pointing a smoking shotgun at him, all Brad could do was scream.

"Gottem."

Stepping off the hog as he twirled the shotgun's lever in a way much like that of a certain robotic assassin, biker leisurely strolls towards his victim, who was now desperately crawling to the door before putting a stop to that by shooting his hand off, earning him another round of screams before rolling his victim over with a firm push of his boot. He wanted this filthy animal's last sight to be him and him alone...

"Unicron sends his regards."

A final thunderclap, then followed by a thin trail of smoke remained transfixed on the air as the shotgun was thrown into the grass, in short time witnesses slowly stumbled upon a scene of horror that would shatter their dreamlike peace forever all while the roar of a hog echoes across suburbia like a dirge...

SUPER ROBOT WARS: CALAMITOUS DAWN

April 1st, 0010
P.A Thalerhof airbase, outskirts of Styria, Austria
1325 hours
16°C | 60.8°F Weather: Clear
---------------------------------

"-And with the brazen and heartless assassination of Bradley White was the fall of the United States assured-"

The TV was suddenly shut off by an NCO.

"Hey! I was watching that!"

"Turn that shit off rookie, that's clearly sanitized propaganda by those twits from BBC. Damn tommies hate America to the point of looking dumb. And besides, your break's over; get back to it."

"Right Sargeant..."

With that, the rookie rejoins the ranks of trainees and reservists as the base trudges towards its early afternoon routine, the men and women appropriately dressed to ward off the spring cold attempting to crawl into their skin begin their monotonous firing drills under the watchful eyes of instructors, calibrating their aim and to grow accustomed to their weapons with coordinated training on the shooting range, as well as running through physical conditioning and exercises on the practice field. Meanwhile, on the interiors of the base, members of the Austrian Luftstreitkräfte undergo their own type of training: Simulations and G-Force resistance drills. All to ensure every single enlisted soldier inside, combatants and rear-echelon troops alike, were battle-ready at a moment's notice. A grim necessity in times like these and any time wasted cannot be afforded.

The base commander's office was clean, organized, and maintained, to regulation standards at the very least. The very man himself in the task of overseeing the air base's operations, Colonel Steiner sat in his office, going through the reports written and provided by his subordinates with a rather bored expression. As unexciting as his task was, he honestly wouldn't have it any other way, better the boring and predictable over the uncertain and chaotic as he always liked to say. But as he goes through the paperwork, one particular report caught his eye, causing him to cock an eyebrow in interest.

"A demonstration of a new-model machine in a few days hosted by... Rayleonard?"

He knows the name well, as a matter of fact; some of his peers and a lot of his superiors really wouldn't shut up about it. They were a rising star in the military-industrial complex, having made a lot of waves with a new method of processing and exploiting G-Elements for the generation of cheap, accessible energy in wake of Nuclear Fission made no longer feasible by those damned "N-Jammers" but more importantly: The development of what the company claimed; rather arrogantly in his own opinion was: "The only mech mankind would ever need."

Having seen some of the articles and a few classified test recordings of this newfangled "NEXT" mech, he really didn't see what the big deal was. Sure they were fast and had way more energy to spare than even the most souped-up Valiancer model thanks to a G-Element fueled generator, but to say that those things would be the new universal fighting machine? Sorely reminds him of the Wunderwaffe of the 2nd World War: Way too optimistic and ambitious. As he reads the report, it seems that the top brass doesn't seem to share his opinion as there were some real bigshots from the various member nations of the FPA coming to visit his little slice of heaven to watch Rayleonard's shiny new toy in the coming days.

Being getting way too absorbed into the report, it was easy for Steiner's adjutant to surprise his superior when a winded Lt. Orban came barging through the door. There was no real rush, so why did the lieutenant even bother moving at such a pace? Orban's lips moved, his jaw swung back and forth in a feeble attempt at speech. But the man was excessively winded and little more than gasping gibberish came from the depths of his throat.

Col. Steiner raised an apprehensive hand without having his reading gaze leave the report. "Calm down, soldier. Take a moment to breathe. What's the hurry?"

Orban waved a dismissive, waving hand into the air. "Ah, sir! I was on my way to deliver my report but one of the guys tripped my foot. I stubbed my toe into the wall and-"

Steiner interrupts the lieutenant with a second apprehensive hand. The colonel's foot mildly pushed against the floor, causing the beam of his office chair to spin back and forth in both directions of the clock. The room went silent long enough for an awkward silence to settle, except for Orban's loud, deep breathing. Such awkwardness failed to sink into Steiner himself, who was still semi-absorbed into the report.

"Out with it, lieutenant." The colonel demanded, breaking the silence at last.

"Sir, it's gonna be here in an hour."

"What is?"

Orban blinked twice in confusion. "... The Rayleonard demonstrator unit to be tested in a couple of days."

Steiner's forehead, and his brows by extension, frowned in response to this new information. The man finally slammed his report face down on his desk and directed his full attention to his adjutant.

"And why are you telling me this just now?!"

"I uh... I told you a couple of days ago, sir! You even said that you got it!"

Steiner's eyes rolled towards the floor as the man attempted to draw such a moment from memory. Did he really say that? Was it his brain switching into autopilot? Rubbing his temples in irritation, the Steiner loudly sighs to help with the growing headache.

"Mein Gott... Well, no use crying over what's past. Tell the techs to get a hangar ready for our guests."

"At once Si-"

"-The one furthest from the rest of the base. I don't want to hear about any of my men growing an extra finger or something standing too close to one of those things."

"It will be done, Sir! Oh and the air traffic control just got word of a few UN contractor planes inbound for the base, should I-."

"Yes, yes get the reservations ready for the mercs too. I'd have thought you'd have gotten used to how this place runs already."

"O-Of course sir!"

With that Orban finally leaves.

"Kid's way too eager for his own good..."

Steiner then looks over a stack of papers over on the side of his desk, a bunch of registration documents for UN contractors coming and going from his base, or as he liked to call them: Hotel booking forms.

"Maybe I should've just gotten that course for hotel management, could've been paid better for doing the exact same thing I'm doing nowadays..."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Unknown Date
Unknown location
Early Morning?
Unknown Meteorological data
---------------------------------
It is dark, cold and silent. You do not know how or why you got here, but before everything went black, all you remember seeing is... Everything. And also Nothing... It was difficult, if not impossible to describe or even visualize what you had witnessed, perhaps your mind was not capable of truly comprehending what you had seen. But somehow, you know deep within, in your soul that, what was seen, was something not meant to be seen, even if you don't truly remember or recognize what it was.



But then... The Darkness slowly gives way, as Light began to rise beyond the horizon, heralding the dawn. And with the light comes clarity and noise. Everywhere the light touched: A smudge of yellows and brows of sand and stone and dust, the howling of the dry wind eerily echoes over the vast expanse and the light above, the blazing sun; quickly banishes the cold away, replacing it with harsh, choking heat.

This is indeed a desert... But one you've clearly never been to. And how did you get here even?

Location: Random Airbase?

Something was making some ruckus.. something that woke up the pilot who was napping? As Kane woke up inside the Brian Condor.. last he recall he was in a simulation battle at the base..

But he wasn’t at the base, this one look a bit too.. rusty for a Mazinger hangar or rather any new ichinara models..

As he pop open the cockpit, as he remove his helmet and hop off the condor, as he stare around, he would notice Great Mazinger standing up, which was weird? Since he was piloting him.

“What the else happen?” Kane said as he would then return back to the condor and activate his radio, trying to reach anybody on the same radio wave.

“Can anybody copy in? This is Lieutenant Honoo, is there anybody near by?”
 

sir_fire

Distinguished
Agh, I can't figure out to turn this on for now...I'll read the book later.

I got out of the Pilder, getting onto the Mazinger as I tried to comprehend the area on me. Where I am.

...well, I'm certainly not at home anymore. Home never has a better view than this. Like seriously, this environment is fucking awesomesauce. But hey, that just means I'm not at home no more, that is. So I'm probably in another world.

Getting back into my Pilder, I took my time and read the book, before putting it away in the glove box and closing it.

"Alright, Z...let's get you up and running!" I declared as I then I pressed the button, revved up the engines...and the systems come to life...

And I can feel it rumbling and...everything seemed to check out. Integrity, systems, weapons and all! Alright, I got a full-powered Mazinger ready to go!

Now it was only time to declare the activation phrase! SCREAM INTO YOUR HEART:

"MAZIN.....GO!"

And the Mazinger got up with an easy jump, flexing in a pose as he got on lock.

...that was my added flair, look, it's hella cool, okay?!
After Tyzell made the Mazinger move and that now his attention was upon the Instrument Panel, he'd notice that the now-active Super Robot's radar had picked up several contacts from a couple of miles away. While it showed their distance relative to his position, he wouldn't know how to tell their altitude and current heading; perhaps the instruction manual can help?

Though upon closer inspection at the screen, it seemed like the blips were getting closer and closer... And there's no way to tell if they were friendly or not as the Super Robot lacked any form of IFF.

Location: Random Airbase?

Something was making some ruckus.. something that woke up the pilot who was napping? As Kane woke up inside the Brian Condor.. last he recall he was in a simulation battle at the base..

But he wasn’t at the base, this one look a bit too.. rusty for a Mazinger hangar or rather any new ichinara models..

As he pop open the cockpit, as he remove his helmet and hop off the condor, as he stare around, he would notice Great Mazinger standing up, which was weird? Since he was piloting him.

“What the else happen?” Kane said as he would then return back to the condor and activate his radio, trying to reach anybody on the same radio wave.

“Can anybody copy in? This is Lieutenant Honoo, is there anybody near by?”
A bit too rusty was an understatement as Kane found himself and the Mazinger waking up in what appeared to be an old aircraft hangar, a structure clearly not designed to shelter mechs from the elements as the Super Robot's crown was scraping against the roof, and its head had displaced the supporting struts close to it.

Suddenly, his attempts to get into contact with his allies would be interrupted by a loud gasp coming from behind him.

"Oh Scheiße, was ist das?!"

Turning around, the young pilot would be met with a very confused and frightened mechanic standing by a doorway.
 

Crimson Dragoon

Exceptional
William "Liam" Tinmall
<<<Ø>>>
Knight Scion?

The title seemed important, maybe a high rank in whatever army he came from, but Liam had to admit he was a little disappointed at the failed introduction of his Suit.
While the design had reminded the scientist of the GFAT-X1 Destroy in its alternate configuration, this machine seemed to have traded any grace or precise mobility for more armor and firepower, a Mobile Armor more than a Mobile Suit.
Maybe there were ways to give it both? Just the opportunity to study the alloy, to see if there were any exotic properties, would be something Liam greatly appreciated, but to get a hand on the machine and tune it?

He was shaken from his muttering and planning by Valrin's voice, allerting him of yet another signal coming their way.

"Uh, yeah, I can investigate. Maybe you can help me with the communication suite? I've been trying to contact you but we may be working on completely different wavelengths..."

"In that case, I'll have Ingus broadcast a single bar tone across 3 different areas on the open channel area, when you cycle through wavelengths you should be able to hear it while tuning and that should get us an open channel to share. It won't be secure however".

While I was fiddling with the console to set up the gate of bars across Vox Channels, I also sent another open hail at the contact in the desert.
As he was scanning the area for anything that could help him guide him through this desert, Daniel picked up a signal that was somewhere north. He slowly flew towards it and, after adjusting the frequency, answered the hail.

“This is Second Lieutenant Daniel Sorenson of the Atlantic Federation Army. To whom am I speaking to?”

Well, he wasn’t quite sure he retained his rank. While they haven’t officially stripped him of it even after his short prison stint, Daniel was treated more of a test pilot than anything. Some habits just die hard.
 
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Mazin Kiryu

Notorious
After Tyzell made the Mazinger move and that now his attention was upon the Instrument Panel, he'd notice that the now-active Super Robot's radar had picked up several contacts from a couple of miles away. While it showed their distance relative to his position, he wouldn't know how to tell their altitude and current heading; perhaps the instruction manual can help?

Though upon closer inspection at the screen, it seemed like the blips were getting closer and closer... And there's no way to tell if they were friendly or not as the Super Robot lacked any form of IFF.


A bit too rusty was an understatement as Kane found himself and the Mazinger waking up in what appeared to be an old aircraft hangar, a structure clearly not designed to shelter mechs from the elements as the Super Robot's crown was scraping against the roof, and its head had displaced the supporting struts close to it.

Suddenly, his attempts to get into contact with his allies would be interrupted by a loud gasp coming from behind him.

"Oh Scheiße, was ist das?!"

Turning around, the young pilot would be met with a very confused and frightened mechanic standing by a doorway.
Kane would hear a loud gasp coming from behind him, as he quickly turn around, drawing his pistol from his right hostel thinking it was maybe an enemy?

Only to see a mechanic? Before lowering his guard a bit, as he heard the mechanic talk about Great? That was very weird..

“That Great Mazinger, the Great Heroes of the sky, while.. who are you and where everyone else went to?” He responded and ask the mechanic.
 

TrickOLF

Active member
After Tyzell made the Mazinger move and that now his attention was upon the Instrument Panel, he'd notice that the now-active Super Robot's radar had picked up several contacts from a couple of miles away. While it showed their distance relative to his position, he wouldn't know how to tell their altitude and current heading; perhaps the instruction manual can help?

Though upon closer inspection at the screen, it seemed like the blips were getting closer and closer... And there's no way to tell if they were friendly or not as the Super Robot lacked any form of IFF.

It was then that I finished doing a pose that I looked on over the panel...and it turns out the Radar's blippin' out contacts.

Ah, shit, it shows how far I am from them...but nothing else. Agh, dammit...

Gotta get the instructio-shit, they're getting close...

Okay, okay, uh...uh...

Hide, hide! Gotta hide!

...ah, fuck, where do you hide a thing as big as fucking Mazinger Z?!
 
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