One or two more strikes would do it. Ze-4 watched the bulkhead bend inward, sure of his estimates. The scutumsteel had held strong long enough, but it was time to go. And if he was honest, he'd rather the Aud hurried up so he could get this over with.
Because if his emplacement was good enough that he was banking the survival of his servicemen on it, no one would die. At least until there was a sortie.
One more dent. It was a trick of the light, but he was sure he could see through tiny splintering cracks traveling along the edges of the indentation already. Behind them, flashes and blurring movement were all he could discern. Not that he needed to know where in particular his target was. It would position itself for him if it wanted in.
And it did. With one last impact, the bent bulkhead sang its last moments with a screech of metal tearing on metal, and the supportive bolts holding it in place were blown away. Ze-4 had preemptively positioned the tripod at an angle so that both the turret and his admittedly frail body were spared from receiving the head-on impact of the bulkhead.
He angled the turret until the red sight was pointed out into the rushing darkness. The Nyx Breaker was tunneling along at such speeds that he couldn't hear anything other than the roar of wind and the crunch of stone and rock meeting an unstoppable force, supplying a paltry resistance, and surrendering to it. He would have to make the call with his eyes. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine.
His heart caught in his throat as the beginnings of a muzzle penetrated the darkness. He forced down the familiar pang of dread that ran through him like fire. Instinct and experience told him to forgo restraint and do it. Goodness, common sense told him to do it!
But the Aud were crafty. At least those of the higher tiers were. Intelligence could be debated by the scholars hiding behind the safety of the Last Light's walls, but he already knew in his heart those beady eyes and slanted skulls had enough in them to outwit panicked pilots. Was it enough to hold an engineering debate or tactical meeting? No, but it didn't need to be, either.
His fingers twitched. He leaned in, not daring to move beyond the tripod. It was a silly sentiment, that the fragile mix of components could shield him, but as he had just displayed, he was never good at following common logic.
The muzzle pushed in more, the hole bending open around its sheer size. The entirety of the maw was inside, and he saw the nostrils flare. It already knew he was there, he was sure of it. But he just needed to see…the eye. Crimson, flashing in the flickering lights…and malicious.
No, not malicious. Fury was the only thing he could see in those depths, to the point he was paralyzed. It growled, and he struggled to rein in the tremors shaking across his body. No matter how many times he'd faced them, they were as awe-inspiring as they were hysteria-inducing. It pulled back, such a small movement that he would've missed it if he weren't staring it down as it stared him down, and suddenly his body was his own again.
It was going to charge inside. He saw the eye. It couldn't pull out, only commit to go in. Now. Now, do it now. Do it now!
"Release!"
Before the bio-lock mechanism was halfway to opening, he had spun on his heels and ran down the corridor, pumping his legs with as much vigor as he had once felt in his youth. But even then, escaping the twenty-meter danger radius was impossible, as fast as he could claim to be.
The bio-lock shuddered in slow motion, then retracted its clamp. With one side suddenly undone, it could only follow the pull of its cable and rewind itself, scrapping off the emplacement and rolling under the tripod. It clattered against a leg, swerving around and climbing back up…
To strike the switch he'd left flipped in a down position. In an instant of confusion and pain, the world inside that one hall of scutumsteel and flickering lights was rent asunder. He crashed to the ground, already moving arms that felt splintered in a thousand different ways to cover his ears, blocking as much of the noise as he could. And calling the thunderous wave strong enough to bend the surviving bulkheads even further "noise" was being generous.
He had shut his eyes to preserve their health, so he was unable to see the singular round he'd loaded into the sonic emitter shoot out. The barrel compressed it, the auto-coil wound even tighter and added its accumulated kick to the path of the round, and the tri-core spent its all in the single shot. There would not be a more powerful munition loosed on that day.
Its aim was true, crunching through the barrel and then in the open air for a second; it slammed into the Aud's forehead, pushing it down. If it'd been an orange, the blow would've killed it instantly. A green would've lost consciousness and succumbed to a fractured skull and internal bleeding.
But the blue was only jarred. Granted, this jarring was as close to a concussion as it would get. Ze-4 stood shakily, wiping the blood pouring from his eyes, his nose, his ears, his mouth, his pores, his everywhere.
He tried to ignore how his body screamed at the betrayal, how his organs twisted and struggled to hang onto a shred of life after weathering the sonic assault, the sheer might the turret had unleashed. His vision abandoned a blurry haze of red mist long enough to see the remnants of the emplacement, kicked back by the impact and smashed utterly against the opposing bulkhead.
He swayed, leaning on the wall. He wanted to close his eyes and let the darkness come. It was eager to put him to rest, just like it'd been many times before. But he still needed to complete his mission before that.
And his mission was not yet ensured. His servicemen still hung in equilibrium. He watched the slack-jawed head of the stubborn Aud attempt to rise repeatedly, only to succumb to the dizziness and thud back to the floor. He didn't know how it was still hanging outside.
He choked down another glob of…something and turned around. The first steps were utter agony, but a long life serving the First Ray meant pain was his companion just as much as his fellow Ancients were. He tried to distract himself, placing one unsteady foot in front of the other, and imagined what he must look like. Surely, walking death. The emplacement was good. Too good.
His steps became smoother, less janky. His vision was clearing, yet the darkness persisted. It wouldn't be banished so easily. He could feel the blood pouring out of him stem, although he wasn't sure if it was because his body was running out of it, or it was healing. He didn't check to see how wide of a red path he was leaving in his wake.
He was walking. Jogging. Then running, and after that, sprinting with all his might. The thud of his boots, the heels long broken in and leaving his soles unprotected, left a jarring journey up and up, but this invigorated him. He wasn't dead; as long as this was true, he could do more. Soon, he had settled into the familiar grasp of his blessing. The Old Man's Vigor took him, sending the sprint into a blur.
He stopped, nearly crashing into the rear bulkhead. There was nowhere else to go; he had reached the tail of the Nyx Breaker. He turned, settling into a runner's position. As an afterthought, he tapped into his communication line. By some miracle, it was operational.
"This is Ze-4. I am indisposed. Following the command hierarchy, Re-5 is my replacement." His assistant. "Our objective has not changed. No matter what happens, do not falter."
He swallowed the lump. This was it. His final duty was fulfilled. "In futility, only we remain."
He let it drop. Either way, he would no longer need it. There was nothing else. He ran.
Faster. He blitzed past the store where he'd looted the components for the emplacement. Faster. The generator stores he had visited only a few hours ago were past him. Faster. He could see the Aud's head still poking through the bulkhead.
Faster. This wasn't fast enough.
He felt something crack. Then another something. By then, his surroundings were a blur, and his eyes only existed for one thing. The stubborn Aud.
The echo-room came and went. Only a few meters remained. With a cry containing all the pain and loss and fury of a lifetime, Ze-4 pushed all the force he could into his fist and drove it into the Aud's skull.
The resounding explosion was nearly as impressive. One second, an Aud was hanging outside, the next, it was swatted away. The active tunneling obscured the noises its body made in the tunnel.
Like a drone with its strings cut, he dropped. But his duty was done. The breach was empty, and nothing would get in.