In Shining Armour
They considered me old-fashioned, I knew. Quaint. Nostaligic, even. But how could I ever feel safe knowing the only barrier between me and death was a manipulated quirk of physics?
It simply wasn't possible. So I did the slow, methodical rituals of armouring up. The shining exoskeletal frame pieces, the heavy power pack and its fuel canister. The near-silent whirring of motor systems checks. The polygonal armour plates with their UV-printed serial numbers and registration codes.
The plates were old. Freshly coated, yes, but they carried the stress lines and microfractures of past battles, each a tale of salvation from certain death. Next to them, the shining field projectors in their sealed black boxes seemed less like innovation and more like fantasy.
I locked in alone aboard the transport, a god of war amongst mere men. The cannon cradled in my hydraulic-powered arms was Thor's hammer to their rifles, Odin's spear to their anti-tank rockets.
There was simply no comparison.
No prequels yet. Why not write one?
No sequels yet. Why not write one?
Comments (1 so far!)
Gundam, Iron man, Samus. Either way, there's gonna be some butt-kickin'.
- #1358 Posted 3 years ago
- Published 3 years ago.
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