“Hero, maybe keeping your tunings is too much for her to handle.”
“If she can’t handle the Silent Guardian, she’ll never become good enough to take up the mantle of ‘Caladrius’.”
“But what if she dies before then?”
“She won’t die. She can’t afford to die.”
“Entrusting such a heavy burden with a young girl, I’ve always questioned your thinking since you picked her up ten years ago.”
“If she wants to live, she needs to fight. Ever since I saw that spark, that glimmer in her eye; she had to be the one.”
“So you’re trusting your ‘gut’?”
“Has that ever led me wrong before?”
“Well, no, but…”
“If the legacy of Caladrius and the Silent Guardian fall, Io will stand no chance against the Jovian Alliance. For the sake of every vulture out there, she must fight, she must live on.”
____
The Gerbera's upward chase and strikes with the mace rattled the pilot, the Guardian having raised its arm to defend against the weapon, each successive strike further breaking and crumbling the mounted weapon.
Blood trickled out of the nose of the pilot, her breathing growing rougher and rougher as time went on, her body being tossed around in her seat with every strike. Should she try the risky move? Or play it safe? What would Caladrius do in this situation? The man who she so looked up to growing up, the one who saved her life. She had been with him for so long, yet combat strategy was something she could never manage to copy from him.
“It’s pathetic, isn’t it, Glasya…”
She talked to herself with a pained look on her face. The machine shuddering with every hit the enemy applied. Was it a cry of pain? Or was it trying to give its pilot a wake-up call?
“Fight… Struggle… Survive…”
“Hey! Lass! What’re you doing?!”
A voice shouted through the comms, the previous man questioning her.
“You’re better than this! Are you going to let your debut end in flames?!”
Perhaps it was a rallying cry that lifted her spirit and refocused her. Alike a coach who always pushed his players on, or a parent that motivated their child, the man’s words caused the pilot to grit her teeth and tighten her grip on the controls.
“Right… I’ve been pathetic, huh.”
It was then that her back arched and her body recoiled, feedback from the AV system kicking in and causing her to grunt in pain. Her head dropped down before she looked back up at the monitor, refocusing on the Gerbera.
“...Let’s go, Glasya.”
She wiped her nose with her arm, smearing the red fluid on her face, though it would be quickly replaced by more blood that seemed to continually drip from her nasal cavity.
The wings unfurled and blasted out hot exhaust, pushing the Guardian every so slightly away from the Gerbera, at least out of the enemy's striking range. It moved its arms down and purged the broken weapon, the integrated weapon dropping to the ground now that it was unusable. The wings then angled back and sent the Guardian forward into the Gerbera. Its speed seemed to have increased from before, if even but by a little. It reached out with its left arm reaching to grab and clamp the torso of the machine, securing a vice-grip around the body, its rare-metal claws seeking to rip and dig their way into the pink machine's body.
With the machine’s free right arm, it pressed the railgun forward into the enemy, and began firing. It mattered not if it was blocked by the shield or not, each slug of the railgun bursting forward with a loud ‘thud’ that rattled the enemy suit in its entirety. If it had struck the shield, it wouldn’t take long for the Gerbera’s shield to break, as the penetrative power of the railgun, and the weakened nanolaminate material; it would only take one or two shots for the gun to pierce through. And beyond the shield, little remained between the gun and the cockpit.
But this was hardly a simple clash mid-air; the thrusters of the Silent Guardian shifted and rotated spinning the two mechs around at maximum speed, before angling them downward to send the Gerbera straight into the ground.
____
The Sturm Faust shot out and struck at Hugo’s feet, the Raysta’s forward momentum causing it to topple and fall over. He wanted to get back up, but it seemed the feet were completely blown out.
“Lara! Take my Bazooka!”
He gestured to the Bazooka that still had ammo in it on the Raysta’s back.
“Right, I got it!”
Lara kneeled down and grabbed the weapon, and began moving after. The weapon swap certainly took a few moments to complete, giving the two enemies a chance to get some distance, but that wouldn’t stop the two. Hugo, prone on the ground, held the Raysta’s working hand out with the beam rifle, trying to shoot how he could, to hit the fleeing machines.
Lara however, chased after the two with bazooka in hand, trying to take well aimed shots to disable or slow down their movement.
Viktor kept his eye on the two tanks, trying to estimate how likely they were to win this. The man was definitely tired, but adrenaline kept him going best as he could. As he saw the one Hidolfr aim and fire at him, he tried to maneuver best he could, the Airmasting running to the side best as it could, attempting to jump at the last second. The shell struck close to its leg, severely damaging the appendage and sending him toppling down on his side, but the explosion providing the aerial movement needed to land seemingly out of the firing angle of the one Hidolfr.
“Asta, I got this one, you take care of the other!”
With the Airmaster’s right arm, he took aim and fired at the now stationary Hildolfr, the Buster rifle aimed right at the monoeye of the machine.
“Right!”
Asta’s Raysta was likely the least damaged out of all of them, which was an advantage she wanted to hold onto. She moved in a zig-zag to try and avoid any shots that came her way. The shot hit right behind her, spraying shrapnel and debris into the back of the machine.
“I’m… Still fine!”
As she saw the Hidolfr turn away from her, she saw it as her chance to aim and fire.
“Please hit…!”