Year of Creation - 20xx
Grace’s Workshop - Victoria’s Private Hangar
“I’m sorry, your pn is to do what now?” Sandra is putting on the sass, which I happen to find quite adorable.
“If we make it seem like it died in a reactor meltdown, it wouldn't be strange for all the devices to get destroyed. It’ll take some work and a bit of inventing, but since we have Mother things should go retively smoothly.” Victoria’s firm belief in my ability to assist her with her pn fills me with determination.
I fold my arms and tap my fingers rhythmically, trying to work through all the relevant information I have on the current situation. Which isn’t much. “Where do I fit into this whole ordeal?”
“Well for now, I’m thinking you can get some practice by remotely controlling small mobile suits and drones of my own design.” She pulls up some blueprints beled ‘BETA-16’ in the top right corner and sends it over to me and my little scientist. “Should be a decent challenge for you since they have quite the robust security system.”
I open the file and am met with design pns so intricate, it almost seems like a form of art rather than blueprints for a couple pieces of tech. The first is a teardrop shaped recon drone, one meter in length and pted with moonsteel and titanium. There’s little notches in the sides for expelling psma, and two cameras fitted on either end that are disguised to look like they’re part of the armor pting. The second is several iterations of a mobile suit design that is quite simir to Grace’s. One of the main differences is that these ones stand at about fifteen meters tall compared to its fifty, but the compact size doesn’t seem to affect the capabilities they possess much. Each wields an eight meter solid moonsteel warhammer as its main weapon, equipped with psma boosters for power swings and a function that allows it to project a cone shaped violet tinted light shield on its face. Its secondary weapons are matching moonsteel gives that can expel psma from the bde to superheat it, allowing it to cleave through all known armor pting with retive ease. These things seem to be hyper-optimized to smash through enemy defenses and eliminate them before they can react. If they were fitted with the cloaking tech Sandra mentioned earlier, they would be the perfect little assassins. Not that I have a particur hit list or am in need of their services or anything.
“Christ on a stick, Victoria! Were you trying to build an army of mech killers or something?” Sandra’s knuckles whiten as she tightens her grip on her hard light screen, her grinning and panting suggesting something entirely different from her tone of voice.
My partner lets out a warm chuckle, the rest of the tension she was holding on to finally releasing. “I see why Mother has taken you for her own.” Sandra goes silent and starts blushing immediately, her complexion resembling that of a strawberry. Simply adorable, that woman. “An army is one way of looking at it, but what I really wanted was eyes in pces we can’t y ours on easily. The War taught me real quickly that the only information I can trust is the stuff I collect on my own, and whatever news my sisters bring. It can be hard to rey top secret shit safely when your channels can be observed by satellites, so I figured I could just make my own network that can defend itself from those Eden bastards.”
“What happened during the War?” I find myself eager to know more about her.
She falls silent for a few moments, then whispers out an answer riddled with grief. “Let’s just head outside and have a look at the mechs.” I shouldn’t have asked.
Victoria taps the table to end the hard light projection and stands us up, her focus scattered but mostly directed towards our little pn we’ve devised. She bumps into a few test tubes while fighting desperately to keep our feet under us, succeeding with her endeavor despite the odds. I urge her to take a moment to collect herself, but she stumbles out of her hangar bay and makes it to the other side of the bay we’re currently in. We nearly fall when the door we’re standing at authenticates and hisses open, Victoria having momentarily forgotten that she can’t just lean on it while waiting.
I resync with her and force us to go sit down. “You’re being foolish, Victoria. Why won’t you just rest for a moment so you can collect yourself?”
“Doing work will help me keep those nightmares out of my matrix. There isn’t much that’s interesting about what happened anyways, so you’re better off not knowing.” She finally sits down in a comically rge office hoverchair by the desk in the far left corner, but clearly still has no intentions of resting.
“Don’t overdo it. I’m worried about you, you know.” I pass feelings of comfort onto her.
Victoria lets out a sepulchral chuckle. “We don’t have the time or luxury of ‘taking things slow’ right now.” She taps the desk a few times, which causes hard light projections to form in the center of the massive room. “Feel free to mess around with those while I build the frames. I authenticated you earlier when I sent over all that data, so there shouldn’t be any issue with your control permissions.”
“Alrighty then.” Surely there’s some way she can rest… I simply must look into it.
I desync and have a look at the control modules on the center console, taking note of each of their neural pathways as I made my way through processing the data. How was she able to replicate a machine so closely with hard light projections?
“Can you do it?” Sandra is sitting on the arm of my chair, leaning forward and nodding at my notes.
I put an arm around her and pull her a little closer. “With some practice, yes.”
She slides into my p and begins moving pieces of a matrix away. “There should be a ‘mental switch’ in the robot equivalent of its hippocampus. Might make things easier? These ones don’t seem to be sentient or capable of individual thought thankfully, so you won’t have to worry about whether you’re causing it any harm or forcing it to do anything.”
Victoria stutters a bit. “You’re a flesh and blood human, right? How the hell did you figure that out so fast?”
“I was the one that designed the matrix, Victoria. I know the tech inside and out for the most part, so it honestly was just process of elimination for me.”
I chuckle a bit. “Wouldn’t that make you my mother, in a sense?”
She goes red like a cherry. “I, uh… well…”
Well that’s a strange reaction. “Sandra? Why are you blushing? What did I say?” Tiny squeaks are about as much as I can get out of her.
“Mother, would you mind flirting with her ter? I really need you to give the hard light mobile suits a spin so I can make st minute changes.”
Flirting? Is that what that was? I clearly have much to learn. “I’m still confused, but I’ll do just that. I’ll speak with you in a bit, okay?” I kiss my little scientist on the back of the head before syncing.
She looks up at me over her gsses, face still pink with embarrassment but at least able to speak words this time. “I’ll be right here waiting for you to come back, then.” I almost don’t wanna resync now, especially when she’s being this cute.
I reach out to the hard light projections and quickly work my way through their maze-like neural pathways. Their deep complexity is nothing to sneeze at, but my practice during our escape should make this a simple chore for me. It’s interesting how different each matrix feels, yet the methods for gaining their system’s consent for control have been quite simple so far. The depth of this one may challenge me a bit though, because it feels like an endless chain of mazes with no foreseeable end point. Surely there must be one?
I finally reach the end of one after what seems like half an hour, but am met by a massive dark space with nothing in it. Something tells me this is something I can’t handle as of right now, something that would consume me and my soul if I dove in any further. It almost feels like a giant gaping maw, eager to gobble up any unsuspecting fool who thinks they can hold any sort of control over it. This will be a great challenge indeed.
I desync with the bots and reconnect with Victoria. “What was that?” The feeling of almost being consumed whole looms over me, pguing me in the back of my mind.
“The security system I implemented into their matrix. Isn’t it beautiful? You can’t pnt info or steal ‘em if there’s nowhere to put the bullshit and nothing you can take control of easily.” She seems very proud of her work.
I chuckle, amused by her enthusiastic response. “So I’m trying to find a way to deal with that… void? Are there other pathways that lead to the matrix center?”
She taps her chin while thinking. “There should be, but I’m unsure of their exact locations since they randomize their pathways every so often to protect against hackers.”
“I see…” This should be an interesting challenge.
Just as I’m about to make another attempt, Dux requests a comms link, which I immediately accept.
“Mom! You gotta come check out all of this cool shit we found! We’re in the weapons research sector, so come have a look once you’re done with whatever you’re doing. Byeeeeee!” She cuts the comms before I can get out a proper salutation.
A ball of sunshine, that one is. What a gem. “How cute. Would you like to go, Victoria?”
She snorts at my question. “Did you have a pn for getting there without me if I said no? This pce is mech sized, not tiny person sized. You’d be surprised at how much more time it takes to get around without at least a exo-frame.” I think there was something about that in one of the files I was sent…
“Wait, you mean those little eight meter crotch rockets that almost got banned by the gactic federation because of their tendency to have reactor meltdowns? Do you have ones that maybe don’t explode?” Well that answers that! Sandra is kind of adorable when she’s nervous, but I’m not entirely sure if I should evoke such an emotion in her simply for my own enjoyment. Perhaps a discussion for another time.
Victoria guffaws. “The fucking what? Is that what those elitist trash government pigs call themselves now? What a shitty joke.” She clears her throat. “Yes, those things. Well actually, the ones you’re talking about are Terran bullshit ripoffs of Grace’s tech. Did they seriously keep up that shittification bullshit after what caused the fall of their first empire of the century?”
“Oh. So the rumors of them being malfunctioning Moon tech was almost true. People do race them and even spar in them, actually. I did too for a while, but that was when I was an energetic and very stupid teenager.” Her eyes sparkle with joy, this whole thing clearly a fond memory for her.
“Well at least the rumors acknowledged that it was broken crap. Kinda makes me happy that people enjoyed them regardless, though. Would you mind telling me some more about the races?”
My little scientist bounces in her seat a little in excitement. “Sure! So the team I was on was called Exo-Force, and it was like all girls and this one total loser of a guy that we would force to fight in smaller gigs for entertainment. Oh and also, there was this…”
Their conversation fades into the background as I focus again on the hard light mobile suits, eager to find even the smallest clue that will lead to my success. Surely Dux won’t mind a bit of a dey? Maybe I’ll find a clue this time!
Year of Creation - 20xx
Grace’s Workshop - Weapons Research Sector
The upper levels of the main workshop space are quite complex. The grav-lift we rode up showed a wonderfully massive and intricate network of tunnels and open air pathways. Thousands of automatons and humans alike walk along them, some mingling in various pces along bridges and others clearly behind on some sort of schedule by the way they’re rushing. Using the drones Victoria already has is helpful with checking out what I can’t with the main body sensors, and it really gives me a great perspective on how incredibly massive this pce really is. It’s remarkable, the level of efficiency reached with hands that aren’t steel and wire. Todd has set quite the bad example for me, so hopefully these ones will restore some of my faith in flesh dwellers. Surely they can’t all be as bas as that waste of oxygen was?
We reach the top and find a collection of hangars with opened bay doors, my daughters in the second on the right out of six. Dux and Felix’s head snaps to where we’re standing, as if they had been waiting for us and nothing else mattered. It warms my heart how sweet and cute those two are. “We’re here! What is it that you wanted to show me, dear?” I call to them over Victoria’s intercom, hoping to catch all of their attention this time.
It seems to have worked, since they’re all looking over now. Nice! “Moooom! I comm’d your butt over like an hour ago! What the heck?” It would seem Dux did in fact mind a bit of dey, considering all the pouting she’s doing at the moment.
“I’m sorry dear, we got caught up exploring and Victoria went on a rant about customs. It was quite interesting, you should ask her about it some time.” Hopefully this serves as a sufficient smokescreen for our pns.
Vitiosus chuckles. “You got caught up in one of her customs rants? I’m surprised you made it here today, let alone within a reasonable time.”
“Unless you wanna be next in that arena, I suggest you cut the shit and stop making digs at our big sister!” Felix seems to be more hot-headed than usual, which is quite the adorable shift.
“Save your energy for when it’s your turn, Felix. I’m eager to shake off the rust as well, but starting unnecessary conflict to entertain yourself is not the way of a true warrior.” Divinus and Domini seem to be pying some sort of character, which I happen to find quite precious.
“Fuckin nerd.” The triplets cough as they say this, which makes them sound like some sort of sick bird. Is this some sort of inside joke I missed the context on?
Syreni and Lavinia turn to look at the three stooges like they’re idiots. “Says you, Huey, Dewey, and Louie!”
Victoria joins in on the fun. “Baby girl, that was a nerd ass response. Sit this one out, you don’t want the smoke.” Doesn’t smoke come from fires? Or is this some sort of saying I don’t really get yet? I’ll have to ask her ter when I get a chance.
“Okay, auntie. Old ass response and shit, must be old o’ clock.” Juno and Maledicta chime in, barely able to hold in their chuckle as they spoke. How cute.
Sandra raises an eyebrow at all the jokes and insults being thrown around, then main-lines her comms with a few keyboard clicks and begins to speak. “Is there some sort of arena hidden around here or something? Please tell me you weren’t fighting out here… I know this space is pretty open, save the ceiling of course, but this isn’t like the one back on Earth where nothing there besides us really matters.”
“What are you, our mom?” The triplet brigade seems to have set their eyes on poor Sandra. She squeaks a few times in response, unable to form proper words.
She can fend for herself. Probably. I’m curious about this arena, though. “I’d like to hear more about this arena you mentioned. We haven’t gotten to explore the extent to the changes in our combat systems, and it’s the perfect pce to try those things out, no?” Even I have some interest in testing myself against others.
“I’ll gdly expin things, Mother. I was actually hoping to test myself against you after having some fun with my sisters.” Domini is barely hiding eir excitement at the prospect of fighting me, which quite frankly I find charming.
“Sure, dear.” Excitement bubbles up in my stomach, and my partner seem to be equally as interested in participating. A battle or two should be the perfect way to take our minds off of more stressful things! I can’t wait to put the combat data I have stored in my matrix to use.
Year of Creation - 20xx
The Kennel - Puppy Quarters
Is this ‘Foustine’ person the piece of shit that repced like a quarter of my damn body earlier? I smell white people bullshit, and it’s pguing everything about this situation with that cracker stank. She reminds me of those disgusting rats ruling over Earth like gods, except she’s on a secluded moon that’s hundreds of thousands of kilometers from anything even close to them. One could argue that she’s the lesser of two evils, but at least the manchild I tried to kill back when Eden was trying to push some bullshit deal onto me didn’t scoop my damn eyeball out! I never thought that there would be a day that I would prefer to see a man over a woman, but she’s proven time and time again that even a woman can be lower than dirt.
I wish I could sit up, but there isn’t enough sck in the chains for me to even struggle. My mouth is dry, I’m hungry, and I think I’m getting a bedsore from all of this. My mouth will barely move, and my vocal chords feel like they’ve been removed entirely, so I can’t even say something about how godsdamn hungry and thirsty I am. The automatons come by to plug a few tubes into my stomach as if they knew I needed something in my stomach, and all of my problems immediately melt away into an abyss of nothingness as the liquid pours into me and relieves me of my hunger and thirst. About damn time! I was wondering when I would get my fix.
Foustine leisurely strides into the room, without a care in the world nor a moment to spare for lil old me. She’s got a half dragged cig between her cherry red lips, and sungsses on despite the fact that we are neither close enough to the Sun to warrant them, nor are we even outside in the first pce. Fucking loser.
“Do you like your new home so far, pup? It was a joy to watch you py earlier, especially so when you were tearing apart your pymates.” She sticks a hand down her pants and begins touching herself. “It was amazing seeing you tear those poor men apart, and I’d like to watch you do it again in about an hour. Your body should be in good enough condition to fight like you usually do, so don’t worry about straining yourself and fight to your heart’s content.” Her fingers come out wet and slick with her scent, which nearly makes my eyes roll into the back of my head, but I fight it and stay strong. I can’t let this bitch win!
She offers me her fingers to suck on, which I absolutely do not want to do right now. Maybe once I’ve strangled her half to death and repced all of her limbs with sticks. That seems fun! “You don’t want your treat? Fine, be naughty. I hope you enjoy fighting ten accomplished pilots in a row!” Turning on heel, she begins marching out of the room, but stops after taking a few steps. “I should put this out. Do you mind?” Dragging the rest of her cig in one go, she then leans over me and hovers the still burning butt over my good eye. “This should do.” The monster then puts it out on my forehead, retching a short but sweet blood-curdling scream from my now working vocal chords. She sucks and bites on my neck while pressing the cig down on me, nearly drawing blood on the st bite when I whimper from the pain.
“Mmm, what a delicious reaction. You’ll be good for me and win fwlessly this time, won’t you? I know you will, pup. You will for mommy, won’t you? Yes you will! Oh yes you will! Okay, toodles!” And there she goes, happy as can be, skipping out of the room like it’s her pyground and I’m a toy she doesn’t care about that got left in the sandbox. Jerk.
The automatons unplug me and begin wheeling me out of the room, which sucks because I was hoping they might unchain me and let me walk. My vision blurs again when I try to observe my surroundings outside of the room, my own eyes refusing my orders to focus. The turns are different from st time since we’re in a new area—at least I think it’s a new area—but I remember them regardless. I may be under mystery drugs from space and have been forced unconscious more times than I’d prefer to admit, but the one thing they haven’t touched is my impeccable memory. The blurry eyes thing is pretty damn smart, but they should’ve altered my sense of direction too. I’m gonna map this pce out, and I’m going to kill them all for what they’ve done. I don’t remember ditching these losers, but anyone with a decent set of eyes and ears would understand why I dream about dragging their corpses in the mud. I’ll strangle them with their own entrails, pluck out their eyes with ink-based office pens, and hang them out to dry on Ganymede! I hope they have death insurance, because a lot of families are losing a family member when I figure a way out of here.
We cross through a hard light reinforced gss tube, which gives me a somewhat brief and unblurry view of the stars. They arrange a little differently here, but it’s still as breathtaking as when I took my first test flight in… oh shit! Where the fuck is Star? I can’t believe how long it took me to even think of her. What the fuck have these bastards been pumping into me that made me forget my wife, of all people? Get these fucking chains off of me!
They cart me into what seems like a private mech bay—which for some reason, I can observe just fine with no blur—which is looking like a bis ass space that only has two resting chambers, which are sitting in its center. Various tunnels that seem endless connect on three of the four walls, the st housing massive holoscreens with a few rows of consoles that automatons are operating. Everything here is a cool moonsteel gray with abaster accenting, and I can’t deny the fact that I’m sort of gd I get to experience a command center that isn’t pgued by idiotic men. I’m gd my head and neck work so I could check out how sweet this pce is. Where’s Star, though? Hopefully she’s in the chamber they’re carting me to.
We go down a ramp that leads to a lift attached to the first resting chamber, which has me hopeful that they might at least let me see my wife before shoving me in the murder dog again. My wish is instantly thrown onto the ground and stamped to pieces, because the doors hiss open to reveal Astro’s cockpit, and not my beloved Star’s. I should’ve known, but it still makes me grind my teeth. One of the automatons pulls out a reasonably sized opaque purple liquid filled syringe and sticks me with it, which just makes my body go completely sck instead of putting my ass to bed. They wait a few moments before unchaining me—likely ensuring that the drug has taken effect. Smart, because I would instantly kill them and run—and then drag me into the pilot seat and secure me in my seat. They plug six tubes of the yellow bubbly stuff into my stomach, perform the activation sequence, and then leave my ass behind with the cockpit door sealed shut before my body begins to function. Smart cookies. I was hoping to scrap the fuckers, but oh well. I’ll just have to bide my time like all the other times.
“You seem upset today. Mind telling me what happened?” Eir voice is ced with concern, which just isn’t something I trust in anymore. Not after her.
“Oh, you know, got knocked out a few times, touched by some freak, and then got dumped in here. Did you know that they also made me forget about my wife? Isn’t that just great?” I finish initialization and prompt the ceiling bay doors to open. I need to kill some shit.
“...yeah. Let’s go kill some shit.” Is that sympathy I feel from eir? Wow, didn’t expect any of that on this dusty ass space rock. What an uncomfortable, yet mildly pleasant surprise!
We rise into our hunting grounds once more, and the bubbly liquid flows into me right as our ascent reaches its peak. I feel a slight chill in my stomach and veins, then pure ecstasy follows. Nothing else matters now because it’s time to rip and tear, until my thirst for blood is vanquished. Fuck, what was I even bothered by? This is exciting! Tearing apart men is a wonderful hobby, and I’m lowkey still pissed off about what happened yesterday. Ten whole battles in a row to jam my annoyance into a box and toss it into the back of my mind. Seems like a great deal, if you ask me.
Our first prey is a pretty little thing; an upgraded abaster trimmed exosuit with sound disruptors in the shape of bunny ears and a slim, titanium-ptinum alloy pted body that’s colored an almost sickly looking fuschia. Their weapons of choice are two seafoam green photon bidents with a moonsteel shaft, a photon dispcer burst rifle on either hip, and a colpsed quadruple yered viridian hard light riot shield bordered by moonsteel attached to their right arm. They seem like a mighty little warrior, but are prey nonetheless and will be crushed no matter the cost.
“I’m gonna vaporize your cockpit, mutt! You’ve taken too much for me, and now you must—” In a mere second, we’re across the arena and swinging downward as hard as possible at their cockpit, which is situated in the middle of the torso. Something is said by them over comms, but it sounds like bubbles in the water to me so I ignore the shit out of their voice. They barely make it out of the way, but we shred one of their bidents to pieces and kick up a massive dust cloud when we sm our cw into the ground before them.
We go for the sweep kick, but they backstep and activate their riot shield in anticipation of a follow-up attack. “Psma?” Astro activates our cws before hearing my response.
“You know me so well now, Astro. Shall we?” I activate the cloaking tech, which is spotty for a few seconds but I quickly get the hang of it and we disappear from any camera or eye’s view.
“Pulling the disappearing act, eh? I can still detect changes in air pressure, dickhead!” The little bastard puts away their remaining bident in favor of a photon dispcer burst rifle, and begins firing its near-invisible rounds at us. I always liked a bit of a challenge when hunting anyways. Bring it on!
I take the reins for this one, dodging each and every shot with a mockingly small amount of effort. Flying is like a waltz, and I’m the kingdom’s finest example of what every dancer should be. I fluidly dodge each and every one on my approach, my hunger for shredded metallic flesh with our cws and flooding the arena with coont growing by the millisecond. They attempt to parry a strike with their shield, but we feint and bst the hand holding the rifle to bits. No biyered body shield? This one must be a rookie. Or their engineer fucking hates them and hoped they might die. Either way, I’m soul snatching they ass. Literally.
They scream something about how we’re only deying the inevitable, but I don’t care much for their little details. We kick their legs out from under them, crush the hand holding the shield, then use said shield to bash their cockpit in until it’s just a ball of fire and shrapnel. The crowd erupts in a mix of cheering and compints, but the announcer calls it as ours with a shaky voice. That’s one of ten, and we haven’t even broken a sweat. This should be fun.
“Where the hell did you learn to move like that? I thought you were pretty good st time, but this time was even better! I felt like I barely had to do anything, which is a first for me. Astro chuckles with the resonance of a damn rocket, soaring through the skies of my ears and entering the space that is my mind, hopefully for good. Man, ey is hot. Not as hot as my wife, though.
“Earth.” My ears perk up at the sound of our second stress reliever entering the arena, which annoys me since I would rather not be aware of my stupid body right now. “Upping sync rate to seventy percent. Clear?” I do the final physical inputs I’ll need for weapon setup, likely for the rest of the matches.
Ey snorts a little. “No wonder you smelled like bullshit the moment you stepped inside. You’re a godsdamn Earth dweller! Fuck are you doing all the way out here? Get lost in hyperspace or something?” I don’t have the energy for this shit.
“Tried killing a guy, didn’t work, ran here, anymore questions? No? Then shut the fuck up, auth my godsdamn sync up request, and let’s just kill whatever the hell is getting thrown at us. Okay?”
“Sure, pal.” Ey finally authorizes my request, which makes me near drunk on the sheer amount of power I hold in our hands right now. This lineup of losers is gonna be fun to crush with this!
Prey number two rises from a spot across the arena, not too far from where we rose from. This one is a weird lookin’ forty-something meter moonsteel armored juggernaut from hell with no weapons in sight, but it does have a scaled down warship-css bubble shaped hard light shield that could probably take most of what we can dish out. It crawls around on six legs, has a battering ram shaped head, and several orbs for a body that seem to reduce the effect gravity has on it. I wish it was pted with something other than the annoyingly dull moonsteel everyone here seems to love so much, but I suppose it would be weird to compin about how visually appealing the thing I’m about to kill is out of all the things I could bitch about.
This one immediately charges us, clearly not into chatting like the other two. Instead of dodging to attack the joints until it grows just weak enough to cleave its head in two, I get a brilliant idea that may or may not get us killed.
“Hey pup, what the fuck are you doing?” Astro starts freaking out when I focus our shielding around our cws in a cone shape, hold them together while ignited, and boost while rotating as fast as possible right at the gray fucker before us.
“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. I know what I’m doing!” We glide through its body and crush the two cockpits I just now found out it even had, and narrowly miss the reactor at the tail end. “I think I’ll call that move the ‘Photon Nightmare Drill’. Pretty neat, huh?” I love doing random shit like this.
I only get a sigh in response, which is good enough for me. Wish ey woulda ughed tho. I thought it was clever. Everyone currently watching our hunt seems stunned at how fast this one went, which is nice because that announcer’s voice is really hard to tune out sometimes. The next targets enter the arena at once this time, across the field from where we came in. These ones seem to be customs, and are all four-limbed dragons with hard light wings. They’re all the exact same scarlet red, and psma is bleeding from the mouths of two. Okay, so we’re fighting mythical beasts now. May as well, considering the fact that I’m riding in the chest of a metal lycanthrope right now. I immediately zone out the millisecond that dumbass announcer starts speaking, so the comms these draconic losers are trying to get me to hear are not registering like, at all. Kinda sounds like fantasy-pilled old man narration, but without the revisionist history tv show.
“You ready to rock?” Astro’s voice is literally beamed directly into my brain with techno-science bullshittery, so I can’t tune the fucker out. You hear that, asshole? Let me do the talking in my own brain!
“Yeah, sure, whatever.” I’m just here to kill. So let’s kill, baby.
