CHASE 9: BERSERGA
No sooner had I emerged from the crater and reached the surface than a heavy, distorted voice crackled through my comm unit.
“You…are you a survivor from Arg?”
Accompanying the voice, a single landing craft descended from the sky. It was a Gilgameth-class vessel, its thrusters extending from its flanks like mechanical legs. As the landing craft touched down, kicking up a cloud of dust, several A.T.s deployed from the hatch at its bow.
“The Blue Knight, is it? Board the landing craft.”
It was Mima’s voice.
Escorted by two of the A.T.s, I piloted Berserga into the landing craft’s interior. Mima was waiting in the hangar bay. I disembarked from Berserga and removed my helmet. Mima’s face twisted into a grimace, as if he had bitten into something bitter.
“Is it just you…?”
“I don’t know. But the Black A.T. made it out.”
At that moment, a blinding flash of light burst through the open hatch of the landing craft. The crater, the very site that had once contained Arg, erupted like an active volcano. Black smoke billowed from the summit, followed by towering plumes of fire and light that pierced the very heavens. Lava began to spill down from the peak.
“Get us out of here!” Mima shouted. Instantly, the hatch sealed shut and the landing craft began its ascent.
“It seems you really are the only survivor. You can explain the situation to me once we reach the Bauntant.”
“The Bauntant? That massive, obsolete battleship?”
Mima gave a slight, rhythmic bob to the goggles-style sunglasses perched on his face.
“It currently serves as the Intelligence Division’s forward base in orbit above Melkia.”
He pointed to the back of my right hand as he spoke.
“By the way…what about that injury?”
I covered the back of my right hand with my left. “I got hit by one of their ‘Hemophilia Rounds’.”
“Is the bleeding bad?”
I spoke with an air of composure. “There are moments when I feel like I’m about to cross over to the other side if I don’t keep a firm grip on my wits. But I’ll be fine. I can’t afford to collapse until I’ve killed that bastard.”
“I’ll treat that for you,” Mima murmured softly. “In exchange, give me the combat data you just generated at Arg. I want to use it as test data for the FX.”
I grinned slyly. “It’ll serve as research material for those Hemophilia Rounds, too.”
“Exactly,” Mima said, his expression turning grave. “Recently, high-ranking government officials in Melkia have been dropping dead one after another from an inexplicable form of hemophilia. It appears to be caused by the same type of rounds that hit you…yet there isn’t a single trace of them having been shot.”
“So their technology has advanced that far…”
“Indeed. However, their intent behind developing it seems to be slightly different. According to new intelligence, those are merely test rounds. They intend to weaponize the chemical agent used in them for the purpose of mass extermination.”
“Why go to such convoluted lengths…?”
“It’s the Black A.T.’s signature style. They kill by slowly, relentlessly strangling the life out of their victims, all while forcing them to savor the terror.”
I nodded in understanding.
“What’s more, the human population today has developed a weakened resistance to these types of drugs and pathogens.”
I spread my arms wide. “Weakened? I’m standing right here, alive and kicking.”
“But every single person killed so far has succumbed within a few days of sustaining their injury. And that’s not all. Across the entire Astragius Galaxy, we’ve confirmed a surge in the birth of deformed infants, as well as deaths caused by the resurgence of pathogens that were previously thought to have been eradicated…and these outbreaks are spanning entire planets.”
“Are they conducting large-scale biological or nuclear weapons experiments?”
“No…I don’t know. But I’d certainly like to think that’s all it is.”
Mima took off his sunglasses and wiped them down with a handkerchief.
“There are scholars who claim this represents the ‘limit of the species.’ They argue that the genetic combinations humanity has possessed since its very inception have reached their absolute limit, that we’ve stumbled into an evolutionary dead end. In short, they believe it’s impossible for humans to continue surviving within the Astragius Galaxy. And indeed, when comparing our current state to the onset of the Hundred Years’ War, human metabolic functions have undeniably deteriorated to a significant degree.”
“The limit of the species…” I murmured the words vacantly. “The Black A.T. said the very same thing.”
“You mean he…” Mima asked.
I recounted everything I had heard thus far to Mima.
“The ‘Last Battalion’…” He groaned. “I had suspected they were more than just mere arms dealers, but…”
I smiled as I answered. “You’re free to interpret this story however you like, and use the information however you see fit. Consider it payment for that new-model Muscle Cylinder.”
Upon arriving at Bauntant, I was admitted to the medical ward. However, once the doctors had finished their examination, they simply hung their heads in grim silence and shook them slowly.
“If this were a genetic disorder or radiation sickness, we’d at least have some means of treatment. But with this chemical agent…”
Day after day, the doctors repeated those same words.
Even Mima, who would occasionally come to visit, would ask, “Are you in any condition to fight?” Then, looking down with a somber, despondent air, he would offer no further words.
And so, two weeks passed. The days devoid of combat gradually transformed my body into nothing more than a skeletal frame, sheathed in wrinkled, withered skin. My wounds showed no signs of healing whatsoever, and the bleeding simply would not stop. My consciousness, too, felt as though it were merely drifting aimlessly through the void.
But one day it was different. My consciousness felt firmly anchored within my body once again. Amidst the palpable tension, and the frantic bustle, both inside and outside Bauntant, I could sense the unmistakable presence of combat.
Perhaps it was because I had spotted a lone battleship docked just outside my window, a vessel of the 1,000-meter class. It possessed a shape unlike anything I had ever seen before, narrow and wedge-like, tracing a gentle, streamlined curve. Tall, jutting bridge structures rose from both the upper and lower surfaces of the hull, surrounded by countless apertures that appeared to be gunports.
I slipped out of my hospital room. This, this must be what it feels like to be utterly unable to sit still. I made my way down the long corridor to the far end of the medical block, where two guards stopped me.
“Hold it. Where do you think you’re going?”
“I need to see Mima. Lieutenant Colonel Mima.”
The guards kept their rifles slung across their backs.
“Wait here.”
One of the guards tapped the keys on a wall-mounted intercom. I stole a quick glance at the number he dialed: “B-7.” That was where Mima was.
“He’s in the middle of an operations briefing. You can’t go in.”
“Operations?”
It clicked. He was planning to strike at the Last Battalion’s headquarters. I spun around and drove my fist deep into the guard’s gut. The other guard lunged at me. I easily sidestepped his attack and bolted out of the medical block.
An alarm began to blare. I paid it no mind and ran. The corridor ahead was marked with a “B.” The room I had just passed was B-3. I continued running, counting the rooms as I went. The door marked B-7 came into view. The meeting was still in progress. Yet, I threw the door open without hesitation.
Inside, nearly a dozen soldiers were gathered. Every last one of them was a hulking, battle-hardened veteran. They all turned to face me in unison. Their rugged faces were crisscrossed with scars. In the back of the room stood Mima.
“The Blue Knight…so you sniffed this out, did you?” Mima gave a light chuckle. “That concludes the briefing. You’re all dismissed.”
Having issued those orders to his men, Mima strode toward me.
He spoke in a low, gravelly voice. “Let’s take this outside.”
“What was that meeting about?”
“Striking at the Shadow Flare.”
Mima spoke as she walked down the corridor, in a voice strictly hushed to a whisper.
“Just as Kevec’s intel indicated, their main headquarters has finally arrived at Melkia. And not just any ship. It’s the battleship Glory of Gilgameth, the vessel they seized from us five years ago. It’s currently holding a stationary position directly opposite Bauntant, with Melkia situated right between us.”
“What about the Black A.T.?”
“That, too, is likely there.”
Mima gave a loud, deliberate cough, shooing away the soldiers who had been loitering along the corridor walls, shamelessly eavesdropping.
“Several shuttles have managed to escape from Arg and various cities across Melkia. This occurred in the aftermath of Arg’s collapse. It seems they’ve finally completed the development of their new-model A.T. Our plan, then, is to launch a strike directly against their stronghold. However…that’s an impossible task for you in your current wounded state. In fact, even for us…”
Mima’s voice trailed off.
“What do you mean?” I asked, my voice tinged with anger.
“Everything has come together. The Superhumans, the Fused-Machine Hybrids, Chris Kurtz, and Sha Bak, as well. I’ll show you exactly how it all connects.”
Mima led me into a small room. It was cluttered with stacks of unidentified machinery.
“Did some new intel come in?”
“Chris Kurtz’s dog tags were recovered from the military archives. Using this device, I’ll visualize the data stored in those tags and transmit it directly into your brain. It’s a bit rough around the edges, but you should get a clear picture of exactly what he went through.”
He picked up a helmet, from which numerous cords extended, and placed it onto my head.
“First, listen to me. I’m talking about the unit where you first crossed paths with Sha Bak.”
“The ‘Corpse Squad’?”
Mima spoke, suppressing a tone that was beginning to rise with intensity.
“That’s right. That unit was formed five years before the ceasefire. However, its original objective wasn’t merely to conduct soldier sweeps…it was to launch an attack on Wiseman.”
“That’s absurd! The entire military was supposed to be under the control of the superhumans, wasn’t it?”
Mima shook his head.
“The computers were. But certain units managed to slip through the cracks of that computer-controlled network. The Corpse Squad was a clandestine operation, created in absolute secrecy by those who had uncovered the truth about Wiseman. They manipulated the pilots’ memories, erasing certain recollections entirely, and instead implanted a burning hatred for Wiseman.”
“But I…”
I shook my head violently, as if trying to shake off a sudden numbness. Somewhere deep inside, a part of me still clung to the hope of believing in Sha Bak.
“You didn’t join until after the Corpse Squad had been reduced to just another standard military unit. The original squad vanished three years before the ceasefire. Manipulated by Wiseman, the unit was made to believe that the Last Battalion’s headquarters was actually Wiseman’s own lair. And so, they launched their attack. Among the members of that unit at the time were two men who harbored a fierce, unbridled rage against the superhumans: Sha Bak and Chris Kurtz. One was a Quentian, a race that utterly loathes the superhumans. The other was one of the ‘Fusion-Machine People’ who had been cast out by them. You couldn’t ask for two more perfect candidates for the job.”
Mima continued to speak in that same dispassionate, matter-of-fact tone. “Let me show you the data from that time.”
As he manipulated the machine, a sudden, alternate vision opened up inside my mind.
Before my eyes lay a colossal spaceship, so vast, one could almost call it a planet. It resembled a bundle of cylindrical residential blocks, perhaps best described as a “fleet-nation.”
Into this behemoth flew a landing craft, carrying me — now transformed into Chris Kurtz. Piloting a state-of-the-art Scopedog, I breached the ship’s hull. Several other A.T.s followed close behind; one of them was blue. It was Sha Bak’s Berserga.
We charged straight toward the engine room. There was no direct attack, only a crushing psychic pressure, radiating from the enemy A.T.s, that seized my entire body like a paralyzing spell. Yet, strangely enough, I felt a sense of nostalgia toward it.
Relying solely on the raw power of our A.T.s, we finally reached the engine room. Suddenly, we were engulfed in a concentrated barrage of fire. All around me, A.T.s exploded one after another. But Berserga was nowhere to be seen.
Where was he? I had no time to worry about that. Dodging the precision-guided fire, I, and I alone, managed to reach the main power core. The cockpit hatch of my Scopedog had been shattered, and the machine itself was heavily damaged. It had all but ceased to function. With no other choice, I climbed out of the cockpit and set the timer on my explosives.
At some point, the shelling had ceased. In its place, however, a terrifyingly intense aura of intimidation enveloped my entire being. Refusing to yield, I used my trembling fingers to set the three explosive charges. Several men began to close in on me. They carried no weapons in their hands.
I gripped the Armor Magnum at my hip and squeezed the trigger. But it wouldn’t fire. The men pressed closer. With a swift, fluid motion, I brushed them aside and sprinted toward the engine room’s exit. I threw a punch at a man who had cut in front of me. With a dull, heavy thud, the solid metal of my fist smashed deep into his body, shattering his insides. It was the mecha they had implanted in our bodies.
Accompanied by an eerie sensation, something burst inside my head. Something, sealed away in some forgotten corner of my memory, began to stir. I had felt this sensation once before.
These men…they are my own kind.
I had merely distanced myself from them. To hunt down the superhumans. But by the time I realized it, it was already too late. The bomb I had planted detonated, tearing straight through the ship’s power core.
Flames roared, surging across the walls…
When we escaped the vessel, only Sha Bak and I remained alive. From the landing craft, I stared in stunned silence at the spaceship receding into the distance. As the explosions spread in a chain reaction, the massive vessel began to tear apart block by block, each section bursting apart as if a mere insect were being crushed.
What…what have I done?
A scream rose within me, endless, boundless. A scream of the soul, mingled with the scent of fresh blood. Rage…Vengeance…and a crushing sense of loss heated me from my very core, surging upward into my head.
The panorama of the city’s destruction unfolded before my mind’s eye, pounding against my skull, screaming incessantly. My head throbbed with a piercing agony, as if a stake were being driven right through it.
Amidst the dying scream of the spaceship, the pain began to converge on a single point, right in the center of my forehead. Bursting through my veins, blood erupted outward. My consciousness soared to a sudden, dizzying height. Every human I had ever fought had been fragile. But I was different.
Power is everything. Humanity is destined to be ruled by the strong.
And then, just as suddenly, the sweat vanished. The only sound was the soft rustling of my hair against my ears. In the periphery of my vision, I caught sight of the small escape craft…
I vomited. It was a sensation of revulsion so profound that it felt as though I were retching up my very intestines.
Mima spoke casually. “It seems Chris Kurtz learned of Wiseman’s existence while serving in the Corpse Squad, and somehow acquired its power during a mission. Afterward, he returned to Melkia and slaughtered the military high command. Then he hijacked a newly-commissioned battleship, that vessel known as Glory of Gilgamesh, and made his escape. Since then, the capital planet, Melkia, has been under the control of a puppet government. But that was his objective all along. What do you suppose he said as he was fleeing Melkia?”
I shook my head, wiping my mouth. “Beats me…”
“He proclaimed himself the ruler of the Astragius Galaxy.” Mima spat out the words with palpable loathing. “It’s quite apt to describe the intimidating aura he exudes as ‘charismatic.’ While it might be a slight misnomer to say he transcended human limits through sheer destruction, he has nonetheless acquired a power that compels others to submit to his will. That power…it might be on par with a superhuman, rivaling even those who have been hailed as saviors in the past.”
“I don’t think so,” I remarked. “If he were truly a superhuman, he would have sought out the computer containing the sealed memories of the superhumans of the past. Yet, he remains with the Last Battalion. No matter who he is, he’s nothing more than an enemy to be defeated.”
“But, right now, he’s interfering with Melkia’s computer systems, attempting to ignite a renewed war. Data of unknown origin is piling up one after another, threatening to overwrite the central computers on the Melkia homeworld. Most of it consists of reports of a Balarant invasion. They intend to exploit the renewed conflict to seize absolute control of everything. They likely used this very same method to drive Balarant into a state of total war.”
“Wasn’t it you who said that this ceasefire was just a period for the Gilgamesh military to reinforce its strength?”
“I’ve already submitted a formal report to High Command, warning them not to be misled by the Shadow Flare’s intelligence. However, we can’t simply shut down our computers. The prevailing sentiment right now is that by striking at them, we can secure a strategic advantage for ourselves once the war inevitably resumes. And yet…”
Mima faltered. His clenched fists were trembling. I spoke up, seizing the moment while he was still hesitating.
“Let me join this fight, too.”
“What about Ronni?” Mima asked, wearing a look of utter exasperation. “For what purpose did you leave her behind at Bow?”
“Until that bastard is defeated, nothing can truly begin,” I declared this with unyielding, unwavering resolve. “Not even if we uncover their true identities.”
Mima’s tone shifted, reverting to the standardized, impersonal cadence of a career military officer.
“Very well. Join my FX Squad then. We’ll load up your Berserga. Now, go change into your pressure suit and board the battleship Barfal.”
Then I heard Mima murmur softly, “It seems the battlefield is the only place where you truly belong.”
FUTURE-X A.T.
Overall height: 4995mm
Weight: 9800kg
Armor thickness: 12-28mm
Maximum gliding speed: 102km/h
Weapons: log gun, solid shooter (built-in)
The next-generation main battle A.T. of the Gilgameth army, possessing the largest body among the 3 series, and born from the ATH-16 as its base. It was fundamentally developed with anti-ship and anti-fortress combat in mind, and can be equipped with and utilize numerous large-caliber weapons.
In a previous combat test, it had the achievement of destroying a 1200-meter class space cruiser with a single unit.
Gazing up at the dozen or so Armored Troopers lined up in the hangar bay of the battleship Barfal, I let out a sigh.
“So this is the FX Squad…”
The A.T.s frames were painted a deep moss green. They were armed with heavy weaponry mounted on their shoulders, and appeared to have four arms each. The camera eye on the head was embedded within a section of the cockpit hatch that jutted out like a power bulge. They stood at least five meters tall.
“It’s a Heavy-class FX1. An A.T. designed for anti-ship and anti-fortress operations. It incorporates the same feedback system found in the Berserga, but for this mission, we’ll be operating with that system disengaged.”
“I see…” I replied in a flat, emotionless voice.
“And while we do have them loaded aboard, we likely won’t be deploying the Mid-class FX1s, either.”
Just as Mima said this, a buzzer blared throughout the ship.
“G-Glory approaching! Prepare for combat!”
As the announcement rang out across the vessel, a strange tension swept through the interior, the kind of pre-battle tension I hadn’t experienced in quite some time.
The FX-Hs rose abruptly to their feet and began moving toward the far end of the hangar bay. One by one, they entered small individual bays, each roughly three meters in diameter. As each A.T. came to a halt inside its room, metal plates, shaped like a bullet sliced in half, extended from the left and right, enveloping the A.T. from both sides. As additional plates closed in from the front and rear, the assembly transformed each A.T. into a massive, seven-meter-long projectile.
The projectiles were drawn upward toward the ceiling of the room. The section concealed within its floor plating was roughly fifty centimeters thick and fitted with several vernier thrusters.
“What is that?”
“It’s an A.T. Pack. We launch the A.T., pack and all, and ram it directly into the enemy vessel. It incorporates technology derived from both Solid Shooters and interplanetary missiles. It allows us to breach the enemy ship’s interior rapidly, without the need for a standard landing craft. Meanwhile, our ship will lay down a covering fire barrage to provide camouflage.”
“I assume the point of impact won’t just turn into a sea of flames?”
“That’s what the verniers are for. We can even adjust the opening and closing of the aerodynamic fairings. And you,” Mima added in a commanding tone, “will use this to take out that Black A.T.”
“In that case, point me at the computer room. He’s bound to be guarding the main computer. If the layout of the G-Glory’s interior is exactly as you described, then it should be located in the forward section of the ship.”
Mima grinned. “That’s our target, then. I’m counting on you.”
I leaped aboard Berserga. Entering the small launch chamber at the back of the room, I gripped the fairings extending from the left and right with both hands. Two heavy, resounding thuds signaled the sealing of the chamber, and the A.T. Pack began to ascend. It came to a halt with a dull thud. Clad in my airtight, pressure-resistant suit, I waited for the launch sequence to begin.
“Anti-ship velocity synchronized.”
“Distance to target: 2,000 kilometers.”
The roar of the launch system, a sound that seemed to engulf my entire body, began to rise, continuing until it finally ceased as my turn arrived.
I shouted into my comm unit. “Launch me! Now!”
Mima’s voice rang out. “Wait! Your power is nearly spent. Don’t move until we’ve flushed him out.”
That was precisely why I needed to be launched, and fast. I had to defeat him before my own life ran out. Yet, Mima made no move to launch my A.T. pack.
Ten minutes passed.
“We’ve shut down G-Glory‘s power. Blue Knight, go!”
With Mima’s command, a crushing wave of G-force slammed through Berserga’s cockpit. It felt like an immense pressure bearing down from above, threatening to flatten the machine completely. At the same instant, my monitors came back to life. The ballistic targeting system had activated.
Before I could even register the covering fire coming from the Barfal, the G-Glory, spewing fire from every section of its hull, loomed directly before me. I closed in on its bulbous, rounded bow.
Penetration! With a loud, rending screech, the G-Glory‘s armor plating tore open and peeled back. Just as the monitor feed went dark, my unit came to a sudden halt.
I jettisoned the fairing and brought the Berserga to its feet. I had landed in a hangar bay situated between the ship’s computer core and its upper deck. With its blast doors blown wide open, the massive hangar, spanning a staggering thousand meters, had been transformed into a raging sea of fire.
Amidst the towering flames, an ATH-FX1 dodged a scattered barrage of incoming fire from a Pot Belly unit, then unleashed a blast from its Solid Shooter directly into the floor. Cracks spiderwebbed across the deck plating. A blinding flash erupted.
Emerging from the glare of the flash, an A.T. leaped out at me, a Balarant Fatty. It spread its arms wide and lunged down from above, attempting to grapple me. I drove my shell-shaped fairing straight into its torso. The cockpit split clean in two, flinging the pilot out into the open. The surrounding flames immediately engulfed his pressure suit.
I stood tall and defiant in Berserga, my entire body wreathed in flames.
“Chris Kurtz! Where are you?”
I spun my unit around. The interior of the control globe in my right hand was already slick with blood. My fingertips slid against the console, unable to find purchase. I rolled Berserga into the corridor running alongside the computer room.
A squad of soldiers and two Pot Belly units were waiting there. One of the Pot Bellies opened fire on me with its heavy machine gun. I deflected the incoming rounds with my unit’s shell-like fairing, then returned fire with my own heavy machine gun, aiming straight for the enemy unit. The Pot Belly took a full burst of heavy machine gun fire across its chassis and toppled onto its back. Yet, it wasn’t dead.
It appeared they were attempting to cover the escape of a single man into the escape pod docked next to the computer room, a man clad in a Balarant military uniform.
“So you’re the ‘Blue A.T.’ that’s been hounding us?” a man screamed. Apparently, he was the leader of the Last Battalion, Eliel Zem. Yet, he possessed neither dignity nor authority. He was merely a panicked, flailing mess.
“Kill him!” He barked the order, but his troops didn’t budge. Seizing the moment, I slammed a burst of heavy machine gun fire straight into the man. His body dissolved into a crimson pool.
From somewhere unseen, Chris’s voice rang out. “Kill the Blue Knight!”
At that very instant, a squad of infantrymen, armed with anti-A.T. bazookas, charged at me. Had the Last Battalion’s chain of command shifted? They leveled their bazookas right in front of my face. I triggered my unit’s Arm Punch, sweeping them aside in a single, devastating blow.
Their heads were torn from their torsos and sent flying, slamming against the corridor wall. With their eyeballs still bulging from their sockets, they remained there, grotesque, bloody reliefs embedded in the metal bulkhead. Their headless torsos crumpled to the floor, and crimson geysers erupted from the ragged stumps where their necks had once been.
Out of the corner of my eye, a Black A.T. unit burst from the computer room and stormed into the escape pod hangar. The blast doors slammed shut behind it.
“Hold it!”
I drove Berserga toward the hangar doors. Two Pot Belly units, their heavy machine guns blazing in rapid fire, bore down on me. They swarmed right into my path.
Get out of the way!
I slammed the Berserga straight into them and smashed them through the doors. For a split second, I ground to a halt. My gliding wheels let out a low growl. The very next instant, unable to withstand the sheer force of the impact, their bodies burst apart, and the path ahead of me cleared.
My gliding wheels, having unleashed their pent-up power in an explosive surge, screamed in protest. With an acceleration so intense it felt as if it were tearing my flesh, Berserga hurtled into the hangar at full speed. Before my eyes stood the escape vessel. Though “escape vessel” was something of an understatement. It was a battleship. Its engine nozzles alone were so massive I had to crane my neck just to look up at them.
I drove Berserga toward a hatch on its flank, one that was already in the process of closing. The instant the hatch sealed shut, the ship launched. A crushing wave of G-force and a deafening roar washed over me. But I paid it no mind. I drove Berserga relentlessly toward a door situated at the far right of the chamber.
The steel door was sealed tight. I slammed my Arm Punch into it, obliterating the central control circuitry. Just as the massive doors swung wide open on either side, an emergency blast door came crashing down from above. I engaged my gliding wheels and drove forward, sliding in feet-first. Three meters to go before it closed.
Sparks flew in every direction around me. With a sudden, rushing slide, I slipped through, just as the emergency blast door sealed shut behind me. I brought Berserga back to an upright stance. Standing there before me was a figure wreathed in flames.
“So…you actually made it this far,” came Chris’s emotionless voice. “I will say this one last time: accept our power. We are bound for Balarant to launch our Holy War. Your strength is worthy of standing alongside ours, worthy of ruling the entire Astragius Galaxy.”
“Is that all you have to say?”
I edged Berserga forward, inching closer with deliberate steps.
Chris thrust out his right arm. The cords extending from his elbows clattered against the metal.
“Behold this flesh! By fusing the mechanical with the biological, we have transcended the superhumans and overcome the very limits of our species. This body, this is the ultimate form of humanity, the pinnacle of scientific civilization. The moment these cords connect, my arm becomes one with the A.T.’s. My thoughts synchronize with every computer in existence, forming a single, unified consciousness spanning the entire Astragius Galaxy!”
Chris began plugging the cords extending from his joints into the connectors within the cockpit. One by one, the instrument panels lit up. From the inner surface of the hatch, a gel-like anti-G fluid began to secrete, enveloping his body.
“It is our collective will,” he declared. “We shall cast aside our human flesh.”
“I refuse!” I roared back. “I will live on in this body, just as it is. And to do so, I will kill you.”
The sound of heavy artillery, shaking the very hull of the ship, began to ring out. The Barfal had opened fire on the escape vessel. The red sensor eye on the head of the Black A.T. flared to life.
You won’t catch me.
I yanked every Mission Disc from its drive. Now, every single function of Berserga would have to be executed manually. But that was exactly how it should be. I had to defeat him, and I had to do it piloting Berserga with my own two hands.
Suddenly, the lights went out. A split second later, the emergency lighting flickered on. In that brief instant of darkness, he had circled around behind me. A violent impact rocked the cockpit from the right. He had smashed his fist into my right shoulder. The armor plating there shattered into fragments.
I spun my unit around to face him. The Black A.T. reared back its right arm, lunging forward to seize me. Reversing my Gliding Wheels, I pulled back and evaded.
His right arm came to a dead stop, held perfectly level. Sparks flew from the floor beneath his feet. Holding a gun at waist-level with his left arm, he charged straight at me. There was no Iron Claw on that left arm. It remained broken.
I unleashed a rapid-fire burst from my Solid Shooter. The glowing red rounds slammed into his chassis. It didn’t flinch, not even a tremor. Yet, its momentum slowed. With a furious roar, he closed in. He thrust out his right arm.
Now!
I activated the Pile Bunker mounted on my left arm. Grazing his upper arm, my left arm extended, and the long lance shot out. At that moment, his right fist snapped. A hole opened near his wrist, a 20-centimeter-diameter stake jutted out, and a burst of light erupted from his elbow. A jet-black, gleaming pile thrust forth. Its tip was razor-sharp.
He still had a weapon like this?!
A violent vibration coursed through Berserga’s left arm. The lance had pierced through, bursting outward from the inside, from the wrist all the way up to the elbow.
With a sharp snap, the mounting struts broke in two, sending the shield, Pile Bunker and all, spinning into the air. I forced Berserga’s left arm to clamp down on the right elbow. With a battle cry, I yanked back on the control stick.
Everything from the right elbow outward snapped off with a dull, heavy thud, shattering and flying apart. A shockwave slammed into the right side of my cockpit. He had smashed the barrel of his Heavy Machine Gun directly into me. Berserga’s chassis reeled violently, then toppled to the ground.
He stomped down on Berserga’s ankle. The armor plating around the joint buckled inward, warping like a crushed barrel. I hoisted Berserga’s upper body back upright and slammed the grip of my Solid Shooter directly into his camera eye.
CRUNCH! The tip of the gun grip shattered, and the ammunition magazine trailing behind it exploded. Sparks flew everywhere. I hurled the gun barrel at him, but it merely ricocheted off his armor plating, useless, and vanished into the space behind him.
Using my now-free right arm, I slammed my fist into the floor, heaving my machine into a rapid roll. The pressure bearing down from his foot eased, just slightly. I drove my right leg into his knee joint, then engaged the high-speed maneuvering wheels mounted on the soles of my feet. Sparks flew from his knee.
My right leg shot up his frame. Berserga’s chassis lifted, floating for a brief instant. I slammed my right leg into his head, then, using the recoil to cushion my fall, I landed.
Berserga lurched violently to the left. My left knee joint had completely seized up. I had no choice now but to face him relying solely on my Gliding Wheels. I stomped the accelerator pedal to the floor. I charged straight at him, head-on. But my left leg’s balance was off. Dragging the dead limb behind me, I began to drift to the right.
Slicing through the air, his left arm lashed out. He jammed the muzzle of his heavy machine gun against Berserga’s right flank, right beneath the armpit. Then, he pulled the trigger.
The armor plating on the side of my cockpit shattered. Shrapnel tore into my sides. Blood spurted from the rents in my pressure suit.
Thump…thump…
The sound of my own heartbeat pounded inside my skull.
So this is it for me…no, not yet!
With a guttural scream, I slammed my foot down on the accelerator. I opened the nozzles on both shins to full blast, charging forward with enough momentum to utterly obliterate his machine on impact. Sending up a shower of sparks from its feet, he sidestepped laterally. Without missing a beat, he pivoted against the bulkhead wall and charged back at me.
It all happened in a split second.
Bearing down right in front of me, he smashed the buttstock of his heavy machine gun into the Berserga’s left elbow. Berserga’s left arm snapped off and went flying.
With a deafening roar, flames burst through the breached bulkhead wall, engulfing both of us in a fiery inferno. Through the flames, the Black A.T. loomed closer. It seized Berserga’s right arm, then hurled me straight into the wall. A crushing lateral G-force slammed through the cockpit. I reversed my Gliding Wheels, bringing Berserga to a screeching halt.
He opened fire with his heavy machine gun. The sound of incoming fire rose up from beneath my feet. Yet, in that moment, my eyes were fixed on the shield and pile bunker lying on the floor. I stomped on the accelerator pedal. Lowering myself to scoop up the pile bunker, I slammed the sharp, pointed base of the weapon against my cockpit hatch, locking it into place. I reached my right arm toward the activation lever.
I dashed straight at the enemy, who was still laying down fire. He ceased his shooting, raised his left arm high, and closed in rapidly. He loomed just three meters away. He brought his left arm slashing down. I spun around, shifting to his right flank. His cockpit was now exposed directly to my side.
Now!
With the force of expelling every ounce of energy stored in my body, I fired the pile bunker. At that very instant, the Black A.T. spun around and brought its heavy machine gun swinging down toward Berserga.
The pile bunker struck his machine. His cockpit hatch flew open, snapping its connecting cables. Chris was flung violently out.
The butt of his heavy machine gun slammed into the back of Berserga. An explosion erupted, and I was thrown clear.
Thick, viscous blood gushed from a tear in my pressure suit. Chris Kurtz staggered to his feet. He drew a pistol from his hip.
“Your life ends here.”
I swiftly reached for my own weapon, and fired my Armor Magnum while it was still holstered. His gun was blasted right out of his hand.
“No, you’re the one who’s going to die.”
I threw every ounce of my remaining strength into a punch aimed at him. A searing pain shot through my side, leaving me unable to put my full weight behind the blow. With a slight sway of his body, Chris dodged my attack. His left fist then slammed deep into my gut.
“Guh!”
With a strangled gasp, blood spurted from the gaping wound beneath my arm, a wound that now hung open like the gills of a fish.
Chris’s right fist shot out. It smashed into my left cheek. In an instant, I seized his right fist with both my arms. He lashed out with his left arm, pounding down again and again. My forehead split open like a burst pomegranate, and blood gushed forth. It streamed into my eyes, staining my vision a vivid red.
Yet, I worked up Chris’s right arm, inching my way toward his throat. Chris kept on striking. With a bestial roar, I clamped my withered fingertips around the nape of his neck.
“You bastard…”
Chris’s face twisted in sheer horror. I bore down, pouring every ounce of strength into my fingertips.
“You absolute monster…”
Chris’s face went ashen. He coughed up a clot of blood. His eyeballs bulged grotesquely, threatening to burst from their sockets. Still, I kept squeezing.
With a sound that sent a shiver of dread down my spine, something snapped. It was the bone in his neck, shattering.
I rose to my feet and looked down at his body, his neck now cinched tight, like the drawstring of a pouch.
This was the end of Chris Kurtz.
I drew the Armor Magnum from my hip and slammed a round into his body. With a deafening roar, his chest exploded, leaving a gaping void. His limbs were torn away. The force of the impact sent his head and neck flying upward. I fired a second shot at it.
Chris’s head disintegrated in mid-air, scattering shards of white bone, splashes of red blood, and fragments of cold, inorganic mecha plating.
One of those fragments, as if possessed by Chris’s lingering malice, sliced deep into my right cheek.
It’s over.
But my own life wouldn’t last much longer, either. Not with wounds like these…
And yet, something continued to writhe deep within me. A destructive impulse, a ravenous parasite, that my own hands were utterly powerless to stop. This ship, too, was finished. I pressed down on the wounds in my sides, from which blood was gushing out in heavy pulses. I felt a thick, viscous sensation. The back of my right hand, too, felt rough and gritty, as if the skin were stretching taut.
The wounds…were they healing? Was the blood beginning to clot? Or was it something else entirely…?
I turned around. Near the doorway stood an A.T. unit, its hatch hanging wide open. It was a blue-colored A.T., equipped with a massive shield on its left arm. Slowly, it began to walk toward me.
Mima’s voice drifted out from the cockpit. “It seems it’s over…”
“Yeah…” I let out the word in a heavy, sunken tone.
Mima leaped down from the blue A.T. “What do you intend to do now?”
I spoke softly, almost to myself. “I’m going back to Bow.”
“Good. Then coming here wasn’t a waste of time.” Mima stripped off his helmet and held it out to me. “Take this A.T., and use the landing craft waiting beyond the airlock. The military intends to apprehend you as a ‘person of interest’ in connection with the Syndicate. If that happens, you’ll never set foot on a battlefield again. You certainly won’t be returning to Barfal. As far as the records go, you fought the Shadow Flare right here…and you died. That’s the official story. This machine is an ATM-FX1, Blue Version, a close-combat variant designed with Berserga as its blueprint. It should suit you perfectly.”
I accepted the helmet. Mima then pulled a small metal plate from his pocket.
“It’s a military ID tag. You’ll need it for the rematch scheduled six months from now. After all…the battlefield is the only place left for you.”
“Who knows…” I gave a vague reply. I no longer had the strength left to remain standing.
Taking his dog tags, I climbed aboard the FX.
“Blue Knight…someday, on some battlefield…”
The sound of the hatch slamming shut drowned out Mima’s voice as she spoke those words.
I powered up the FX. As the machine rose, the blood drained from my entire body. In the haze of my fading consciousness, Ronni’s figure appeared before me, a mere apparition.
“I promise…I’ll make it back to Bow…”
Whispering those words, I steered the FX toward the exit hatch. By the time I passed through it, my vision had begun to blur. With a look of sheer desperation on my face, I guided the FX into the landing craft. Then, dragging myself along, I made my way toward the cockpit.
It couldn’t have been more than three meters from the hatch to the pilot’s seat. Yet, it felt like an infinite distance. Gasping for breath, I reached out and grasped the control yoke. The landing craft lifted gently into the air.
“Wait for me…Ronni.”
As if being sucked down into the planet itself, the landing craft began its descent toward Melkia…
EPILOGUE
Astragius Year 7215…The War Resumes
Six months later, triggered by a Balarant vessel’s violation of airspace, the Third Galactic War erupted once again.
The flames of war spread in the blink of an eye, and once again, tens of millions of lives were extinguished. If there was to be anyone left alive after this war…
Major General Mima Sencutter chose not to dwell on the thought any further. Yet, even as everything spiraled toward total collapse, he heard a rumor.
There were those who had seen the figure of a blue A.T. standing motionless amidst the flames engulfing a devastated city…
The End