1.32
Cameron regained consciousness a few seconds later, no longer sitting in the cushioned metal chair with a heavy helmet strapped to his head. Instead, he was standing out in the middle of the field. Well, standing wasn’t the correct term, he’d decided. It was more like he was floating, suspended high above the ground, locked into place from an unknown force, as he stared fifty meters down the field to find Logan in the same situation.
“What the hell…” He muttered, trying to will his body to move, but alas, it was as if he was clamped in place, held by some invisible force that wasn’t quite ready to articulate him yet. In fact, the only movement he managed, was the frantic turning of his head looking around in a worried daze.
“Just relax!” Logan called out, pulling Cameron’s attention to him. His body was held aloft by the same invisible force that kept Cameron’s body prisoner, contorted into a pose of crucifixion.
“W-What’s happening?” Cameron called back, trying his best to settle the anxiety creeping up the back of his spine.
“It’s just part of the process,” Logan assured him, “Human bodies are a lot smaller to project, so they end up appearing first.”
Almost as if on cue, a robotic, feminine voice rang out overhead, filling the entire room with her cold and neutral tone.
“Pilot consciousness upload. Beginning frame projection.”
As soon as the voice finished speaking a hole on the side wall formed, opening up with a whirring sound. Once completely open, a black bulb protruded outward before a series a bright colored lights flashed across Cameron’s body, as well as the surrounding space. Lines of bright orange light began to take shape, forming sharp angular lines as the beams pulsed and drew something in the open air. It was only when he looked across at Logan, that Cameron understood just what was being created from the lights as he saw his mentor, still suspended in place, but this time he was in the center cockpit of a wireframe model of the Crusader.
“That’s so cool!” Cameron exclaimed, his anxiety giving way to excitement as he watched the lines finish the crusaders details, before looking down to see that he too was standing in a wireframe model of his own mech, the sleek, angular curves of the Headsman displayed prominently identifying it as such.
“You haven’t seen the best part yet!” Logan called, causing Cameron to lookup, but before he could respond, the robotic voice was back again, ready to prep for the next phase of whatever was going to happen.
“Frame projection complete, beginning detail injection.”
The wireframe models began to glow and pulse, blinking rapidly in place before Cameron’s vison of Logan and his crusader was cut off, replace instead by a cool bare slab of metal that was marked COCKPIT: FORWARD FACE in giant black blocky letters.
“What the hell?” He muttered, looking around as, one by one, his vision to arena outside was replaced by slabs of iron, colored in a gunmetal gray, and looked so real that Cameron felt like he could almost see his reflection in on of the side panes before the cockpit was fully enclosed, leaving him in pitch blackness with nothing but his thoughts and the feminine voice to keep him company.
“Detail injection complete, beginning internal retrofitting.”
A light came on from seemingly nowhere inside the cockpit and Cameron’s eyes went wide as he was no longer staring a simple bare metal shell but instead, a true authentic cockpit. His feet were not standing a platform, but instead, a single peg rested underneath the arch of each foot, held into place by an iron shackle that was securely fashioned around each ankle. Similarly, his arms were placed into a slot on either side of his body, a black cushioned cuff fitting snuggly over his rotator cuff.
Cameron was speechless, so in awe of what he was seeing, that he almost didn’t hear the next intercom message until the voice had nearly finished the sentence.
“Internal retrofitting complete, beginning nervous system integration and synaptic uplink imitation.”
“Synaptic uplink immi- Ah fuck!” He yelped, feeling a sharp pain jab into the back of his neck, causing his eyes to involuntarily tear up as he squeezed them shut. Up until this point, Cameron hadn’t felt a thing, the system seemingly numbing his sense of touch as it went about setting everything up. But now, apparantelly, he could feel, and all he feel was pain. He hissed and sighed, blinking open his eyes.
“What the hell was tha-” He stopped mid sentence, highly aware of the fact that he was no longer staring at a dimly cockpit. No, Cameron instead found himself looking down to the bare metal floor of the arena itself, brightly lit with flourescent bulbs and shining down on him… and his newly acquired metal feet. Large metal feet, which they themselves were attached to large, gunmetal colored legs. His eyes went wide as he looked up and around. His body wasn’t his own anymore. There were no meaty appendages of flesh, they had all been replaced by massive, long, shafts of metal and hydraulics.
“L-Logan?!” He called, having to do a double take as he heard the slight crackle of static coming from his voice, “What the hell is going on!?”
In response, Cameron head Logan’s laughter coming from the direction of what looked to be a perfect recreation of his Crusader, his hearty chuckles also being accompanied by a soft static hum.
“Well…,” He said a moment, taking longer than Cameron thought was necessary to stop laughing, “Better here than on a contract I suppose.”
“What does that mean!?” Cameron shouted back, “And why does my voice sound like it’s coming through a speaker?”
“Because it is,” Logan said, a hint of amusement in his voice, “This is how A.R.M.S. pilots talk without a headset. You just never heard it because you’ve been in a Squire up until now. That’s also why you can see. You’re Synaptic Uplink feeds directly into your mechs occular headpiece.”
Cameron had to do a double take, shaking his head, and feeling a slight sluggish and heavy tug as he did so.
“Wait a second,” He said, disbelief evadent in his voice, “You mean to tell me-”
“Yes,” Logan said, the Crusader’s headpiece making a nodding motion as he spoke, “Congrats kid, consider this your first taste of being an A.R.M.S. pilot.”
Cameron spent a few arduous hours cursing and crashing as Logan ran him through the basics of A.R.M.S. movement. In theory, the concept was simple; Think of the mech as an extension of your own body and behave appropriately. When you were to move your arms inside the Cameron spent a few arduous hours cursing and crashing as Logan ran him through the basics of A.R.M.S. movement. In theory, the concept was simple; Think of the mech as an extension of your own body and behave appropriately. When you were to move your arms inside the aperature of the cockpit, the unit mimicked them. When you wanted to take a step, you simply lifted your leg, which was then held in the air by iron shackles until you placed your foot back down on the peg of corressponding ligament. Simple to understand, and supposedly… easy to learn.
In practice however, Cameron had gone about three hours, where his most successful accomplishment was being able to move his head. Besides that, it was hard to will his body in a way that felt natural. He was trying to find a middle ground between the stiff, clinging pull of the uplink threads screwed into his body, constantly trying to guide him with their gentle hydraulic sway, with the twitchy bursting movements that the Headsman wanted to do. More than once, he had went to take a single step, before the boosters on his feet activated, their high power and the mechs lightweight frame combining in comicial way to leave him staring up at the cieling as he crashed to the ground.
It was here where he found himself once again, on his ass and cursing his decision to pilot this blasted thing, when he heard the hard heavy crunch of feet next to him. Turning slightly, Cameron looked up into Crusader’s head unit, and for the briefest moments, he could have sworn that the neutral face of stamped metal was glaring at him in with a look of judgement.
“Can I help you?!” He called out, aggravation intensifying at the static that accompanied his voice, and Logan’s silence.
“You are… terrible at this,” Logan said, chuckling with amusement.
“I’m sure you were just as bad as I was,” Cameron growled back.
“I don’t know about that,”
“Are you gonna help me up? Or are you gonna stand there smirking with a smug sense of superiority?”
“How do you know I’m smirking?”
“Because I fucking know! Now are you gonna help me up or not?”
“Nah, you got it.”
“I hate you… so much,” Cameron huffed, doing his best to roll over onto his stomach, but as he got to his knees, he must have over corrected, because the boosters on his lower back and thighs flared, rocketing him forward and causing him to slide on his face for about twenty-five meters before crashing headfirst into the wall barrier wall. He must have crashed harder than he had previously, because instead of looking around the arena, he instead he found himself shooting up in the chair of the Physilight Projection System, gasping for as if he’d been holding his breath as he looked around in a daze.
“W-What… What’s going on?” He said, struggling to catch his breath.
“You died,” Aurora said, drawing Cameron’s attention as he gave a sharp intake of breath.
“So this is my hell then… stuck here with you?” He reached up to clutch at imaginary pearls, “What did I do to deserve this?!”
“Not actual death, dumbass,” She said, rolling her eyes and pointing towards the monitor that all the connections to Cameron’s helmet was coming out of, “It monitors every aspect of you mech, including its armor score. So when that armor would theoretically be breached and the pilot would be killed by doing something stupid like kissing a wall at a hundred miles an hour, it’s going to mimic that by ending the simulation and returning your consciousness to your body.”
“Oh…” Cameron said, feeling a blush heating his cheeks as he looked back out towards the field where Crusader was still standing, “Yeah that makes sense.”
“You need to stop forcing it,” She said, crossing her arms and eyeing him in a way that was reminiscent of a scolding mother.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean,” She said, speaking slowly as if to emphasize her point, “You’re trying to fight the boost system of the Headsman in order to slow down it’s movements, but youre moving so slow that it ends up stiff and jerky, which in reaction causes the system to work harder to go where it wants, and you end up your ass.”
“I’m not trying to!” Cameron exclaimed, throwing his hands up in exasperation, “This shit is hard. Isn’t there supposed to be some VI to help me with this stuff?”
“Yes,” Aurora said, nodding slowly, “But the system struggles with registering another VI system so it focuses on just the basic functions. Point is, you’re learning movement the hard way.”
“So what do you suggest?” Cameron asked, earning a loud sigh from the mechanic.
“What the hell did I just say?” She said, sounding irritated, “Stop being a bitch and lean into the speed. This is why you wanted it isn’t it?”
Cameron looked down, embarassed for asking, “I mean… yeah,”
“Exactly, so instead of complain, learn how to work with it.”
“But-”
“Now back in you go,” She said, cutting him off as she threw the switch once again, forcing Cameron unconscious and throwing him back into the Headsman’s cockpit.
“Well… this is helpful at least,” He said after a moment, blinking his eyes to see the arena before him once again, “I didn’t have to wait for it to render.”
“Yeah,” Logan said, leaning on the handle of Crusader’s mace, watching him, “Luckily, once a mech is registered for a session, the system keeps it on hand. Makes it for quicker transitions from death to reset.”
“Sweet, I’m definitely gonna need it, I feel,”
“So…” Logan said, the Crusader setting down it’s armaments as it crossed it’s arms, reflecting Logan’s actions, “Did you learn anything during your little break?”
Cameron chewed his lip, trying to formulate a way to put Auroras tips into action.
“I think so…” He said, “Let me see.”
Cameron took a deep breath, finding his center, as he focused his intent on one thing; no matter what, don’t fall.
He squat low, taking his time to not make any sudden movements, leaning into the way his threads were pulling him as he dug his claws into the floor.
“What are you-” Logan started to say, but Cameron didn’t hear him. Instead, he focused on the high pitched whirring of the boosters on his back priming. With an audible click, he knew it was time, looking up and leaning forward, releasing his grip on the tiles.
The boosters flared, and Cameron shot forward like a bullet out of a gun, quickly pumping his legs as he flew past Logan. He grit his teeth, trying to orient himself into a more upright stance. His eyes focused at the far wall in the distance, a point that was fast approaching as the Headsman continued it’s mad dash, cutting through the air like a knife through butter.
“Come on…” He growled, feeling the strain increase in intensity, still, the threads weren’t fighting him as much as before. Instead, they were sluggish guiding him into an upright position, allowing him to rise to his full ten meters in height. He didn’t have time to celebrate however, as the wall grew closer and closer.
“Come on…”
He tried to adjust, to turn and avoid collision, but it was no use, the strain pressing on him was too much, as the Headsman stubbornly clung to the ground. Fifty meters quickly turned into twenty-five, then fifteen, then ten.
“Come the fuck on!” He bellowed, voice raw and scratchy, as with in effort he took a leap, finally leaving the ground at nearly double the Headsman’s height.
Time seemed to slow for Cameron, as he watched his descent. The wall was upon him… now he just had to avoid it. Fortunately, he had a plan for it. Unfortunately, he didn’t just how well it was going to work.
“Fuck it,” He said, pushing his feet out in front of him, hoping he’d made the right call.
He had.
A few meters before he impacted, twin boosters on the bottom of his feet turned on full blast, quickly slowing his movment to a stop, softening his landing to just before the point of impact. Cameron was so in awe that he almost forgot to continue his movement, but luckily he reacted in time, banking hard to the right. The Headsman obeyed, boosters firing on his left side torso and sending him hard to the right, following closely to the wall as he carved up the distance quickly, no longer making a running motion, but instead, standing stationary, his legs shoulder width apart as he squared his shoulders, leaning into his movement.
“HELL YES!” He bellowed, his smile so wide that it hurt his cheeks. Yes, it was sloppy, yes he very nearly toppled over multiple times, but he’d made it, and that’s what mattered.
He continued his path, quickly skating the distance, before he reached the middle section of the wall, and he banked hard to the right again, shooting off into the center of the arena, before leaning back, coming to grinding halt a few meters away from the Crusader, nearly flipping forward and crashing as he slowed.
“Well…” He said, breathing heavy, unawre that he’d been holding his breath, “Wasn’t as cool of a landing… but yeah… I do think I learned something.”