"Mechas, huh?" Sirius mumbled as he and Xander walked home, deep in thought.
Their teacher had spent the entire lesson explaining the concept of Mechas and their pilots. In simple terms, they were advanced robotic machines far beyond anything humanity had produced in all of Elysium.
Old models, known as power suits, were familiar to some. The issue with those, though, was the strain they placed on their users. The wearer needed to be physically strong; otherwise, the suit would slow them down on the battlefield. Not only that, but the suits drained stamina rapidly, like a whale gulping down water. Most couldn't operate them for more than an hour at a time.
Making the machines larger wasn't a perfect solution either. The bigger the suit, the more energy it required, and the clunkier it became. Larger models were stiff and sluggish, with poor reaction times. Controlling such massive machines also demanded a user who could multitask — fighting and managing all the systems at once. Yet, despite these drawbacks, they remained crucial in battles against the Abyssal Shades, offering regular people a chance to fight rather than just being cannon fodder.
But Mechas… they were on a whole other level.
Mechas could link directly to a pilot's neural system, allowing for seamless control and movement. The strain on the pilot was practically nonexistent, freeing them up to fight as long as the Mecha had energy. Mental fortitude became the only limiting factor. The larger Mechas weren't a problem anymore either — the neural link made piloting feel as natural as moving one's own body. Pilots could control weapons and systems just by thinking, deploying them instantly.
Although expensive to produce, the running costs of these Mechas had been dramatically reduced. Powered by Prime Engines, made from shade cores, thet absorbed some sort of primal energy from their surroundings, making them self-sustaining. Other primal-powered weapons, like cannons, jets, and tanks, were also in development.
For centuries, these technologies were monopolized by the military. But recently, the government had begun sharing them with the public, integrating Mecha courses into the Weaver's Academy to train young talent. Unsurprisingly, the Mecha course had quickly become the most popular.
Sirius's thoughts drifted. 'Why does this feel so familiar?'
"Hey, big bro, did you hear about the Mecha course at the academy?" Xander asked, excitement bubbling in his voice.
Sirius nodded, a small smile forming on his lips. "Yeah, I heard. Sounds like a great opportunity."
"So, you're joining me at the academy?" Xander asked hopefully, his eyes wide with expectation.
Sirius paused, looking at his younger cousin as if weighing his options. After a moment, his expression firmed. "Of course. What kind of big brother would I be if I let you fight monsters alone? You can count on me," he said, thumping his chest.
"Yes! Awesome!" Xander shouted, bouncing around with excitement.
Their mood quickly shifted as they came across a small group of four boys, about fifteen years old, surrounding a girl who looked to be Sirius's age. The thugs blocked her path, clearly up to no good. She stared down at the ground, fear etched into her face, only encouraging the boys.
"C'mon, there's no need to be scared. We're nice guys, just want to get to know you," one of the boys, seemingly their leader, said with a sly grin.
"Yeah, we just wanna be friends," another chimed in, his tone dripping with mockery.
"Come on, let's go. We'll make sure you have a good time," the leader added, grabbing her wrist.
The girl stammered, "N-no, I really need to get home. My mom's waiting for me."
"Don't worry, we'll explain it to her later," the leader sneered, pulling her closer as his friends laughed.
Sirius frowned, while Xander's face darkened with anger. He looked ready to charge in, but Sirius placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Don't go rushing in. Aunt Ava will kill you if you come back with bruises," Sirius said casually, removing his glasses and letting his long, dark hair fall into a ponytail.
"You're helping?" Xander asked, surprised. Sirius rarely got involved in these kinds of things.
"Of course. I was having a good day until these idiots ruined my mood. They'll pay for it," Sirius replied, his tone icy.
Xander smiled, feeling reassured. "Alright, let's do this."
"Someone help me!" the girl cried, struggling against the leader's grip.
Suddenly, a dark figure darted into the alley, delivering a sharp punch to the boy holding her. As the thug hit the ground with a grunt, the figure grabbed the girl and swiftly pulled her away.
"Who the hell was that?!" the leader yelled, wincing in pain.
His friends helped him up, but their attention quickly shifted to the 12-year-old boy standing before them. "Who are you, brat?" the leader spat, trying to maintain control of the situation.
Xander didn't flinch. "None of your business. I'm taking her out of here. If you have a problem, talk to my big brother."
The girl, still holding Xander's hand, looked at him with a mixture of gratitude and worry.
"Don't worry," Xander said with a confident smile. "My big bro is strong."
The leader's sneer returned. "Your brother better be a Soul Weaver, or I'll end both of you."
As the thugs moved closer, a silhouette emerged from the shadows. One of the boys gasped in fear. "Dark Angel."
"What?" The leader turned, his eyes narrowing. "That's the Dark Angel?"
They had all heard the rumors — a neighborhood menace who had taken out several groups of thugs. But seeing the innocent, almost feminine figure in front of them, the leader scoffed. "You expect me to believe *this* is the Dark Angel?"
"I'm out," one of the thugs muttered, retreating.
"Coward!" the others yelled, advancing on Sirius.
Xander turned to the girl. "You might want to close your eyes."
She shook her head, determined to watch.
And that day, she witnessed something unbelievable.