Data File R-10: Antigravity Gauntlet (Technical term for martial booster)

  [The antigravity gauntlet is an application of antigravity mobility devices that distorts gravitational fields as an offensive attack. When activated, these boosters send a powerful wave of antigravity into a target as if slamming a wall into them. With skill, it can be directed into specific shapes and textures for control over the impact’s behavior. The shockwave strength is roughly proportional to charge time and the number of antigravity cores in the user’s equipment (their position doesn’t matter since the human body is the conduit that carries the initial charge).

  Several mercenaries have taken to this tool as a practical boost to melee weapons, adding the cores to blades or armor to remove the necessity for traditional strength. Notable examples include Neverdawn, who has cores mounted in her scimitar and shield; Helios, who has them mounted in his wing joints; and Virus, who has a total of twenty-five in different pieces of his armor.

  Note from Helios: “I can lift a human easily with the added help of antigravity, but since I only have two of the cores (they’re bulky BTW), that’s about the limit of what I can do.”

  Note from Rasil: “That explains so much...”]

  ***

  “Drones?” Rasil questioned, slightly doubting the new information. The spy before him hesitated but nodded again.

  “He found some way to duplicate attack drones and control up to a thousand at a time," the spy continued. “Each of them fires a Q-8 beam and has a close-range taser. You’re not getting close unless you can block all of those beams.”

  “Anything else?”

  “He just kept screaming about taking revenge and exposing the pain of life. After he took out my team, I tried to follow him, but there was no trace of him in any systems, like his drones reset all sensors and cameras.”

  Rasil tapped his finger on his chin while thinking, then replied, “Thanks for the info.” He handed the spy a refined power core battery, then slipped his hood over his face and left the alleyway.

  Virus was leaning against a wall and waiting for him. “Yo, get anything?” he asked. Rasil nodded and started walking down the main street of the outpost.

  On the way, he explained, “Flakstorm is a racazoid imitation of a human. He has a chimera core that gives him up to three hours of regeneration, and an army of multiplying drones. I assume the chimera is how he duplicates them, so burning his power might be the best—”

  “Don’t worry! I’ll punch him even harder!” Virus interrupted.

  “Virus, do you know why you’re with me for this?”

  “Not one bit. Why?” Virus was literally bouncing with each step he took.

  “Because you fight well. Please calm down until we get to a fight.”

  In response, Virus spun and started walking backward while whispering, “I shall assert my dominance over him...” Eagerness aside, the issue remained that the two had nowhere to start looking for an opponent who could erase digital traces of themselves. Rasil’s skill with electrosense was still limited, so he couldn’t scan the area with it to look for racazoid energy. Worst of all was the bit about revenge. If Flakstorm had a specific grudge, then he’d be twice as dangerous as a racazoid just following orders.

  Rasil snapped his fingers as he realized something. “Virus, if you were a racazoid, and you were powerful, would you assert your dominance?”

  “You betcha," Virus answered seriously.

  “How? How would you spread the word?”

  “By attacking select opponents with links to higher organizations to simultaneously demonstrate my stealth and guts to mess with the tougher targets.” Virus said. Rasil could definitely see that Flakstorm was trying to do that, but why would he attack a random team of spies, unless...

  He knew they were working with Rasil...

  He knew that they were coming. Rasil reached into his pocket and pulled out his Amulet shard. “Stay here," he told Virus. “We’re walking into a trap, and I have to make a call.” He antigravity jumped onto a rooftop and sat down out of sight.

  “Here goes...” Rasil said as he stretched out his hand. He knew that he couldn’t use time energy in the same way Flameye could, but if he just made a partial opening... He watched as the air in front of him began to glow purple and split open like glass. His call had actually been answered.

  “What. Do. You. Want?” Flameye growled, his image appearing on the other side of the pseudo-portal.

  “I wanted to ask you something.”

  “Then get on with it before I teleport to your blasted city right now and—” Flameye’s threat was cut short by a cough that sent some of his regenerating pieces scattering along the ground.

  “Flakstorm. Do you know where he is?” Rasil asked.

  “If I knew, that disgrace would be dead already!” Flameye coughed again. “He went rogue just before our fight at the tower and stole a sizable portion of my chimera!”

  “Would you interfere with me fighting him?” Rasil poked. There was a moment of silence from the Chimera Wraith.

  “Certainly not,” Flameye sighed. “He’s a problem for me, running around with those duplicating toys. Besides,” Flameye lifted his left arm so Rasil could see the crooked stump where the racazoid’s forearm used to be. “I have no desire to fight you until I’m fully healed.” Rasil poured energy into the gap to ensure the signal was untraceable before he closed the portal, and took Flameye’s mention of the drones as proof of what he’d already heard.

  “Honest, he remains,” Rasil muttered regarding the Chimera Wraith. He slipped down from the rooftop and turned to face Virus, but...

  He wasn’t there!

  Rasil frantically looked around for him, hoping the rumors of Virus’s attention span had been ill-founded, but also spotting one of those traditional taverns within fifty feet. “Oh no.” He sprinted. By the time Rasil ran into the tavern, Virus was already lifting his fist to punch a patron standing in front of him, who seemed to have insulted Virus.

  The said patron seemed unfazed, but still, Rasil leapt forward and lifted his own wrist to deflect Virus’s strike, not wanting a full brawl to break loose. Unfortunately, Rasil didn’t realize that one of Virus’s hands was a prosthetic made with blast-resistant armor plating, and carried the same momentum as a storage truck when using antigravity.

  “Thwonk!” Virus declared as he drove his fist into the aggressor's chest plate and floored him. Rasil gasped in shock and stared at Virus. Virus triumphantly posed, seemingly unaware that other mercenaries around the room were already drawing guns.

  “Wait!” Rasil shouted, pleasantly surprised when the others actually obliged. “Let’s not start a fight right now. You guys know Virus, right?” Several heads nodded in reply. “Okay, well, I need him for something, a job.” A combined groan followed.

  “That idiot?” one guest questioned.

  “How’d he even manage that?” another shouted.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  “And after he swoops in, claims our job rewards, and acts like he owns the city?” an angry assassin from the back echoed.

  “Look,” Rasil interrupted, offering a hand to the man Virus had punched. “Let this slide, and this job’ll keep him out of your way for at least a day, maybe longer. Don’t shoot.”

  He saw almost mutual assent, witnessed several gun barrels lower, and breathed a relieved sigh, until he heard the worst voice he had listened to all day say, “Cowards!” Virus unashamedly began insulting those who had backed down, and shots were flying before he had finished his rant.

  Rasil dodged behind the bar as the knocked-down mercenary revealed an arm-mounted cannon and fired a heavy bolt into Virus. Virus merely lifted his gauntlets and smacked the bolt to disperse it, charging his antigravity boosters and flipping a table through the air with the same movement.

  Rasil peeked over the counter and watched as the others, in a matter of seconds, laid into each other with various weapons. Flashes of light and blasts of both plasma and channeled electricity filled the air, but Rasil did notice they never scored serious blows, rather having a fistfight with guns. He vaguely remembered seeing this situation back when he was a mercenary and wondering how more than thirty people could be firing actual guns in the same room but never kill a single patron.

  Downright impressive, the level of restraint.

  Maybe just tradition?

  Rasil turned to the bartender, unsurprisingly sitting by the bar with him, and asked, “Need me to pay for this? Money’s not an issue.”

  The bartender replied, “Don’t worry about it. They usually pitch in more than necessary to fix everything. These fights sometimes happen with so many mercenaries in one place, and they’re inevitable with that Virus in any place.” They both chuckled a bit at that.

  “I should maybe stop him, though.”

  “By all means, then,” the bartender laughed. Rasil charged his gun and jumped atop the counter, slashing with the gun and firing concussive bolts into several of the fighters, targeting the ones with explosives first. He turned around the room while evading, attempting to find Virus, and then saw—

  Really?!

  ***

  Virus was having the time of his life. Honestly, it had been a while since he had witnessed, joined, or started a true tavern brawl, and he was glad the other mercenaries were so eager to fight! He picked up one attacker running at him from behind and threw them over his shoulder while moving behind another table. He grabbed an empty mug.

  “Taste my vengeance!” He tossed it across the room, hitting a sniper in the leg. He backflipped dramatically to kick a dual-wielder in front of him, catching his boots on their chin and flinging them upward. “A mighty octahedron beckons!” he declared as he tossed a vaguely octagonal coaster. Rasil jumped in and tried to shoot him, but he merely posed to slap Rasil away and counter a knife headed for his face. Rasil cried, “Stop it!” and blasted Virus right in the knee with his gun, a concussive shock traveling through the mechanical boots.

  Virus then used an antigravity pulse to counter the shot and shouted, “Yoink!” while grabbing Rasil’s hand. He twisted his hip and charged up, aiming to throw Rasil out of a reasonably sized window beside them.

  ***

  Rasil couldn’t get Virus’s hand off of him! The mechanical prosthetic clamped down like a vise and repelled Rasil’s shots like magnetized armor. Rasil involuntarily growled as he prepared for the coming throw and lifted his legs. The momentum would be difficult to reverse, but it was possible. Virus turned and aimed for the window, Rasil leaving the ground and spinning toward it.

  Rasil twisted in midair, and antigravity boosted back at Virus, who was still smiling and ready. Virus clamped both hands on Rasil’s shoulders, rolling back into an improvised suplex. The ground shook with the impact force, but Rasil didn’t collide with it...

  Instead, he had aimed his gun down and bounced himself up with the recoil a mere four inches from the floor. Still in Virus’s grip, he swung around to hit him in the head, and was launched away before the blast fired. This was getting incredibly annoying, and Rasil had little doubt that this fight needed to end, but Virus was too stupidly enthusiastic to go down.

  Rasil whispered a quiet apology to everyone in the room except Virus, and channeled all of his power. He closed his eyes.

  The energy built in his body...

  It traveled into his gun...

  He pointed his gun arm forward, resting it atop his left...

  “[SHRAPNEL FRENZY]!” Rasil screamed, letting loose his critical strike. A flurry of unstable bolts aggressively escaped the gun barrel and slammed into everything in front of Rasil. Rasil struggled to control the stream, but ran forward while firing, letting the recoil shift his arm around wildly. If his gun was used as a dagger, he realized now that this critical strike essentially made the dagger kill by merely tapping a target...

  Accuracy doesn’t matter when you just need a touch. Nevertheless, Rasil lamented that he had blasted several more holes in the walls while the bolts swirled and launched in that general direction. He knew his focus there should have been Virus, exclusively, but this power was necessary to—

  He blocked it.

  Virus. Blocked. It.

  “How?!” Rasil shouted, the glow leaving his eyes and weapon. He had exhausted all he had! The critical strike wouldn’t be charged again for hours. Virus just—he just...

  ***

  Virus felt his face bruise and realized one of the bolts had actually hit him, but it mattered not! He was ready for anything, and that included Rasil’s critical strike, which he had read about in the news just yesterday. He clenched his fists again and stared at Rasil, who seemed very confused and disappointed. Maybe learning new things was fun after all!

  Rasil charged with his fists raised, visibly furious, and attempted to punch Virus. Virus smirked in response, as punches were basically his middle name. He reached for a grab, only to have Rasil antigravity boost into an upward kick that mimicked Virus’s own technique. Rasil furiously followed through with the backward spin and boosted back into Virus while aiming at his face.

  Virus, still flabbergasted at the imitation of his move from earlier, stepped back and readied a punch, but Rasil spun in the air and flurried several strikes into the ground in front of him, tearing the flooring apart and scattering metal shrapnel in Virus’s face. With the debris thrown at him, Virus lost his footing. Rasil’s charged strike then met Virus’s chest as the momentum of the antigravity boots carried them both through the tavern wall and threw Virus into the alleyway beside the building.

  Yikes...

  ***

  Rasil stood, saying, “Don’t. Pull something like that. Again. Ever.” He holstered his pistol and tugged the stunned Virus to his feet. “Credit where it’s due, though; you tanked my critical strike, so good form.”

  “Form has nothing to do with it," Virus answered as he brushed himself off and peeked back toward the tavern.

  “No.” Rasil curtly pulled Virus away from the hole, waving a silent apology for the damage, and walked toward the main street.

  “Thanks,” an unknown voice greeted them. “I appreciate you wasting your critical strike like that.” A small, humanoid form stepped toward the two from the shadows.

  "Who are you?” Rasil asked, hand flicking to his gun.

  “Flakstorm, of course," the racazoid answered as he walked into the light. His entire body looked to be an imitation of an armored human, his mechanical face covered by a glowing, orange visor. His metal claws retracted into the five-fingered mechanical hands. His antigravity boots, a decent replica of Rasil’s, stomped intimidatingly as he approached. Overall, the imitation was stunning, and one could imagine a human wearing combat armor would be virtually identical.

  “I hear you’ve been looking for me," Flakstorm growled.

  “I have," Rasil replied, disregarding Virus’s frown at being ignored.

  “I don’t like that. I want to kill you,” Flakstorm growled, the glowing eyes shining through his visor. “Die.” Flakstorm attacked, launching a multitude of drones that seemed to be hiding everywhere in the alley.

  Rasil rolled behind a corner for cover and began countering. He struck down three of the drones, but when his bolts struck them, they multiplied, chimera glowing from their tiny cores as they appeared to splinter apart and copy the pieces. He grunted in frustration and launched another flurry while Flakstorm slowly walked over to him. “Attacking fails, so you attack again? Your strategy is terrible. You are terrible. DIE," Flakstorm roared as he swung his hand, several drones following the command and firing energy beams.

  Rasil antigravity jumped against the wall behind him and bounced off. He leapt over the streams of energy and landed in front of Flakstorm, who seemed shocked at the sudden counter. Rasil slashed with his gun and scored a breaker hit, stunning Flakstorm.

  Flakstorm fell to one knee, but lifted his head and called more drones. They flew together and linked to form a protective wall. Rasil was going to strike it, but heard chimera on the other side, and backed away as he heard a counter charging.

  Virus, who had spent the battle thus far pummeling drones at an impressive speed, was undeterred. “A wall!” he shouted. “Breaking walls is the perfect job for Virus!” He dashed straight for the barrier, pulling back a fist.

  “Virus! Stop!” Rasil ordered while jumping to intercept him. He knew that the moment that barrier fell, Flakstorm would unleash a volley they couldn’t deal with! His hand gripped Virus’s, but he was easily shoved away as the mercenary continued to run.

  “Begone!” Virus yelled as he smashed his fist directly into the wall of drones. The miniature creations made way for the attack, and behind them was the finisher. Flakstorm had thirty drones pointing right at Virus, and Virus had opened himself up by attacking blindly.

  “I told you to die,” Flakstorm repeated, clenching his fist as the drones fired their beams. As they collided with Virus, he held his arms in the way and attempted to take it head-on. The beams continued channeling, the heat beginning to turn Virus’s gauntlets red-hot. A flash of red energy suddenly got in the way as Rasil joined him and began siphoning some of the energy to protect him.

  “This isn’t an enemy you just punch, Virus,” Rasil warned.

  “Every enemy is an enemy you just punch, idiot,” Virus retorted.

  “You’re so immature," Rasil sighed. He boosted behind Virus, gripping onto him tightly. He couldn’t move Virus physically, but antigravity boots don’t adhere to that rule, at least not strictly.

  Rasil boosted back, using an unfocused antigravity pulse and pulling Virus with him. “What’re you doing?!” Virus shouted. “I had him!” Rasil shook his head as he landed on a rooftop and pushed Virus away. He looked down into the alley, and Flakstorm was already gone.