Built Different [Cyborg Superhero ProgFant]

The weight of the Tempest shot was unlike any other ammunition I had previously used. While it was difficult to imagine how, compared to some of the solid metal types available. This one coursed with magical energy. Felt radioactive. There was some familiarity to it too - perhaps a clearer head might have been able to pinpoint it more accurately, but Belle and the arcane crystals came to mind.

But would it be enough to even dent the knight?

A message rolled through my left lens from Clara. One point of luck in our favor was that her drone had been caught within the barrier secluding the Arena stage from the rest of the world. It had just been hovering at a distance while she powered through data. No doubt receiving plenty of noise from the Natural Disasters, along with updates on how the city was faring against this prepared attack.

She had just given me a short countdown. My cue to step back onto the main stage at a key moment. It wasn't long, and didn't give me the opportunity to even consider second-guessing her plan. I acted as a surgical tool under her control.

Overcharge crackled down my arm, preparing the Tempest. An odd ache throbbed within the metal parts of my cybernetics, the stress starting to have a detrimental effect on my health. Any cost was acceptable if it meant ending this threat.

My boots took me to the edge of the covered corridor, the timing as perfect as humanly possible. I didn't have the time to even take a deep breath before the ruddy light of the cursed stadium washed over me once more.

Chevalier had been standing there, expecting me to take the bait. Perhaps he would have gone after the hidden heroes if I had stayed in the shadows longer. Instead, his cannon-arm was raised toward my location.

It was enough to draw his eyes, focused on me.

Above him, Clara's drone darted down sharply. It blazed with energy as she overloaded the batteries and electronics. The sharp whirr of the spinning blades caused my brother to pause briefly, waylaying his attack. As his head tilted upward, the drone connected.

Electricity and flame wrapped around him, shimmering around his shielding with a pointed screech. Not enough to damage the knight, or shut down his stasis field. But while it was under this protective field, I fired my gun-arm.

An ugly payload. Even though the shot was brief, it felt as though I had vomited out a burning log of magma. Through my arm, which added to the discomforting sensation. The sight of the Tempest was something else, however. An experience.

Emerging from the barrel, it at first appeared to be a solid cylinder of some material. Not fully opaque and slightly green. Crystal? That flash of thought evaporated as the ammunition activated fully. A shockwave of magical energy washed over me, and the shot split apart.

It was not a singular beam of modified crystal at all. Cursed shrapnel. The body of the Tempest was actually thick pins, fashioned into that shape and held in position with magic. A cone of needle-long shards burst out. Easily over fifty of them. Mid-flight, they illuminated with green light.

From this distance, only a third of the spread was on target. The air crackled as the stasis field held dozens of glowing pins in the air. A sheen of energy flickered over the knight as he recovered his senses from the drone explosion.

That was only a third of the ammunition's purpose.

Half expecting the needles that missed to pepper the concrete structures behind Chevalier, my eyebrows raised in surprise. Still glowing green, the shrapnel ricocheted. Some bounced off the gray walls; others curved through the air. Homing in. Seeking the target.

While the front of the knight looked like a radioactive hedgehog, the rest of the shot pelted him from behind. His shielding screamed, some projectiles wavering as the integrity of the field struggled under the mass of pressure.

There were a few errant needles darting back and forth in the air like lazy insects, unable to locate a target properly. I was reasonably sure Clara had mentioned this was an experimental shot for dealing with large crowds of soft targets. I imagined the crystal needles would be able to pierce through bodies with little issue, continuing onto other targets or repeatedly targeting the same person. Shredding. A Tempest of stabbing rain, for as long as the magic held up.

"Full of tricks, aren't you?" Chevalier growled and tried to swat away some of the harrying pins. Dark smoke wafted around his head, joined by the smell of burned ozone from his struggling shielding.

My reply came instantly, in the form of a Triple shot. Pain ran through my skull like fork lightning as a High Explosive, Shock, and Sanguine stake followed up the Tempest within seconds.

The stasis shield popped.

It cried out, one final tense squeal as the energy containing it dispersed. A wave of warm air buffeted the area, filling the surrounding space with an odd tinge of acrid stench. The power expelled by the broken tech had enough strength to drain the magic from the crystals. Dull, the needles dropped to the floor, clattering on the concrete.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

//Clara: Backup drone is powering up. I won't be able to enter the barrier yet.
//Clara: Working on that.

As the smoke and fizzling density of the air dissipated, Chevalier came back into view. He was leaning slightly to the side, head tilted. The final Sanguine stake was embedded into his right shoulder, only inches away from his face. Even my high-powered, hero disabling bullets could barely pierce his thick armor.

Even without being able to see his face, he looked livid.

Rather than trade spoken barbs, he tensed and launched forward. The self-inflicted pain had calmed my senses. My brother was faster than most, but I had trained against a speedster. I dove to the side, avoiding the sharp end of his lance. As he swiped out with the length of it, I caught it in my metallic hand. My boots slid across the ground as he pushed me away.

He was stronger than most. But I had trained against a strength super. I ducked to the side, staying to the side of him so that he couldn't turn his cannon on me. Despite his charging speed and immense power, his dexterity was lacking. My comparatively lighter frame allowed me to avoid him, if only briefly.

Energy cracked the ground as his large boots powered up, bursting him away from me. He turned, pulling his lance back to thrust toward me.

My natural instinct to parry the attack with my arm wasn't one made with a clear mind. Metal rang out against metal. I hit the ground, spinning around from the resulting force I had somehow deflected. Some minor blunt trauma. My legs shuddered briefly as I stumbled back to my feet. Synapses felt like they were on fire.

"Not too shabby." Chevalier rolled his neck. "Futile, of course. I am at least comforted you haven't been wasting our natural gifts."

[I'm so glad you're enjoying this.]

"Hardly. Just finishing what should have ended five years ago."

Of course. The aches rolling through my body helped shape the muddy shadows of the past. That hollow laugh. The droll overconfidence. Chevalier wasn't just a squad member who disagreed with my view of our work.

Anger burned through me. My muscles tensed up as things became clear. A hot drop of realization set my brain ablaze. I saw red. The figure standing above my cold, half-dead body as I sank into the mud. The waving smoke from the end of the gun. The cold smile and chuckle as my life sunk away.

Chevalier had sold us out.

Took a deal with the World Government. Even the others in the squad on his side had been betrayed at the end. A culmination of the back and forth between the warring groups. Not the unifying solution we wanted or were expecting. Death. Or at least, an attempt.

These unlocked memories didn't click any latent powers into place. I was already at my peak; the past be damned. My cratering mood just descended further than ever. An uncomfortable rage and desire to exact vengeance.

I didn't let Chevalier get another word in.

My own boots powered me forward, V-Force venting from the underside ports. Mirroring the knight's attack, my arm snapped backward before I lashed out with a punch. My brother was overconfident, but not incompetent. He only intended to weather the swing of my first for a split second, before understanding that I wasn't simple-minded enough to be attacking his plated armor without a plan.

The knight crossed his cannon across his chest in defense. My metal fist collided with the thick weapon. Clang. Sanguine stake punctured through the side of the cannon from the top of my fist. Enough strength behind the shot for the pointed metal to embed itself at least halfway through the metal. The crunch of electronic components and hiss of dissipating electricity was my reward.

Followed by being pushed away with force. Liquid lapped out of the end of the cannon, a death knell that smelled of battery acid. A flashing red message in my lens telling me I was getting low on Sanguine stakes dampened the minor victory.

Chevalier responded with a slash of his lance. I was too close for him to use the long weapon effectively, but with the amount of strength wielded through his suit of plated metal, he could easily bludgeon most people into the ground with little issue.

I traded blows, trying to maintain my distance and circling him so that he couldn't get an attack fully on target. The wide cannon hissed, clicking loudly as it separated from his left arm. It dropped to the ground, leaving a thin metallic limb in its place. As I dodged around, small sections of that arm flipped and snapped into position, forming a smaller gun-arm.

Pain ran around the inside of my skull like shards of broken glass. Perhaps one of the Tempest nails had also betrayed me and was worming its way through my brain. Certainly felt that way. It was taking all my concentration to use my cybernetics as normal limbs in the melee. Anything involving my weaponry or V-Force was just a bridge too far.

I had enough wherewithal to curse Kingston for forcing the wasteland adventure yesterday. Lighting the candle at both ends had left me with nowhere safe to hold without burning myself. Of course, with him now being kidnapped, karma had rolled around to find him. Hopefully, a hero or two could as well.

Forcing my way through my resisting synapse exhaustion, I hit the side of the knight's foot with a Foam shot. It was unlikely to hold him for long, but helped me avoid the aim of his new gun. His jet-boots powered up, and cracks ran along the concrete floor. I shot another Foam into the back of his other knee.

Either my eyes were blurring, or the barrier around us was starting to shimmer. Maybe both. Chevalier broke away from the first set of expanding foam, and began flexing to split the second away from his armor.

I staggered a few steps back, trying to keep woozy footing. If I were in peak form, I would have stepped up and put a stake through the back of his helmet while he was turned away from me. Instead, I was struggling to stand. It wasn't just the synapse fatigue and lack of rest. Just being around the knight was turning my brain to slop as old memories tried to thaw.

Reluctantly, I flicked the emergency release on my stims. The empowered liquid drained from the pack entirely, dumping into my system to keep me in the combat. I grabbed enough control to snap another Sanguine stake into my gun-arm. Feet stabilized as warmth and numbness flooded through my limbs. I stepped forward and raised my arm.

But the knight had already turned in place. Free of the temporary restraints. His own arm raised, pointing what looked like a machine gun at me.

We paused. Both faces obscured, but able to read each other's expressions. In tandem, we turned our gaze to the side.

A familiar figure stepped out of invisibility, approaching us both with a glowing katana in hand.