It was a farce!
A f*cking farce!
Solomen watched in disbelief as Victor and Franklin, two esteemed Legionaries known for their prowess in battle, engaged in what appeared to be a mockery of combat. The intensity of his hormonal levels surged, his neural network struggling to process the conflicting emotions of rage and shame.
Clutching his hand tightly, Solomen feared he might have damaged his own mech in his frustration. Around him, the other Legionaries paused their own battles, drawn to the spectacle unfolding before them.
This was not what Solomen had anticipated when he envisioned the battle of High Mechs. He had expected a display of honor and brutality, a test of skill and strength. Instead, what he witnessed was a bizarre scene that defied all expectations.
Victor's strikes seemed half-hearted, lacking the ferocity and precision characteristic of a true warrior. Franklin, on the other hand, moved with a grace that seemed more suited to a dance than a battle, effortlessly avoiding Victor's attacks with playful ease.
The contrast between the seriousness of the occasion and the absurdity of the spectacle before him left Solomen feeling a mixture of anger and embarrassment. How could his comrades, renowned for their valor and skill, reduce themselves to such foolishness in the midst of battle?
A stray shot of artillery brushed past his armor as his comrade was hit. He blankly looked at his friend and his comrade who was with him starting from the military academy.
A light ember of flame burned in his chest, and something was lost in his heart.
*******
As Gwen surveyed the battlefield, her frustration and anger surged within her. The betrayal of the Carlson family, once esteemed allies, now revealed itself in the chaos unfolding before her. The numerical advantage held by the Dawn Secessionists, bolstered by the treachery of their former commander, was unmistakable.
Gwen's nails dug into her skin, drawing blood, a physical manifestation of her inner turmoil. She could hardly contain her fury as she watched the consequences of the Carlson family's treason play out in front of her.
Turning her attention to William, Gwen felt a mix of anticipation and dread. She expected him to issue some absurd command or to erupt in a fit of rage, mirroring her own feelings. But deep down, she knew that such expectations were futile.
In her experience, men like William were often blind to the gravity of the situation, more concerned with asserting their authority than facing the harsh realities of betrayal and defeat. It was a frustrating truth that Gwen had encountered time and time again in her service.
As she braced herself for whatever ludicrous order or inaction William might offer, Gwen couldn't help but feel a sense of resignation. In a world where men like him held power, true leadership and accountability seemed all too rare. But despite her frustration, Gwen remained determined to do whatever it took to salvage the situation and uphold the honor of her cause, even if it meant defying the very commanders who were supposed to lead them.
But what she saw and heard left her dumbfounded. William was supporting his head with his hand as he slightly leaned towards his left side, and shook his head as he saw the screen projecting the image of the battlefield.
"Tsk, tsk, tsk, to think that I would lose not one but two High Mechs... Damned hell am I gonna be in debt!"
As William's mischievous smile spread across his face, Gwen felt a surge of apprehension. His actions seemed reckless, and she couldn't shake the feeling that he was spiraling out of control. Should she intervene and try to restrain him? The thought weighed heavily on her mind as she watched the unfolding chaos.
William's hand moved toward the panel that was situated on the armrest of his seat. He seemed to connect to some forces that were on the ground, but what was the use, Gwen thought?
The radio buzzed into life, and multiple gruff and smooth voices affirmed the call from the King.
"It's time," All of this left Gweniwith in contemplation of whether or not to restrain William because he was going crazy.
As William's mischievous smile spread across his face, Gwen felt a surge of apprehension. His actions seemed reckless, and she couldn't shake the feeling that he was spiraling out of control. Should she intervene and try to restrain him? The thought weighed heavily on her mind as she watched the unfolding chaos.
Meanwhile, on the distant battlefield, a sense of foreboding descended as an ominous red light began to glow. It grew brighter and brighter, casting an eerie glow over the surrounding area. People on both sides, whether they belonged to the Dawn Secessionists or the Dawn Empire, looked on in alarm as the ominous red orb pulsated with an unsettling energy.
Then, as suddenly as it had appeared, the red light vanished, leaving behind a sense of unease and uncertainty.
*BAAMM*
As the chaos of battle raged on, the attention of everyone was once again drawn to the duel between the High Mechs. But this time, there was confusion and astonishment in the air.
Where had Franklin, the formidable Blood Scrouge, disappeared to?
Even Victor, his opponent, seemed bewildered, scanning the area for any sign of his adversary. Then, they noticed a trail of destruction leading to a collapsed building, now reduced to rubble.
"Get up... It's not over," William murmured in his seat as his eyes turned bloodshot, his determination evident as he urged his comrades forward. As the rubble shifted, revealing a battered and damaged High Mech, equipped with a greatsword in one hand and an M9 Alturis in the other.
The maroon and gold High Mech, once a symbol of strength and prowess, now stood in ruins, its head caved in and its circuits barely functioning.
William's smile took on a darker edge as he realized the extent of the damage. Franklin had lost his HUD, rendering him effectively blind in the heat of battle.
As the ominous red orb began to materialize once again, its presence cast a shadow over the battlefield. The red light took some time to appear again but when it appeared, an inherent fear appeared inside everyone's heart.
William's attention was drawn to the maroon High Mech, still reeling from the previous onslaught. But this time, there was something different.
The maroon High Mech blasted off as it was again logged into the ground 2 meters deep. But William raised his eyebrows when he saw that Franklin had survived a sniper shot.
Inspecting the greatsword, William noted the hole in its structure, evidence of the sniper's deadly aim. But what truly astonished him was Franklin's resilience in the face of such a precise and powerful assault.
William could see that his Mech's circuitry was basically fried, and it didn't take as much as previous time for the red orb to show up, because it was from another side of a mountain.
That one shot... Franklin's heart stopped.
It was clear to William that Franklin was no ordinary pilot. His ability to react to a Tier 1 sniper rifle shot with such precision and skill was nothing short of extraordinary. Whether it was due to advanced neural interface technology or innate talent, Franklin's prowess was undeniable.
William sighed, smiled a little after, and leaned his head towards the cushion of his chair, and closed his eyes. But he didn't forget to give one last statement.
"Good work, Wolves,"
While he left the chaotic war council to turn more chaotic.
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