|Jackass — Explosion Specialist|
This is bad.
BOOM BOOM
I duck under the rubble and toss another grenade at the machines swarming me.
No—this is really bad.
"Take this!"
I roar and unload my rifle into another incoming horde.
I should've listened to the twins. They warned me about machine movement in this area, but noooo, I decided to go in without any reinforcement and without bringing any radio with me.
What a stupid decision.
I hunker down behind a massive slab of rubble and reload. Only three magazines left. Great. Wonderful. Fantastic. The only thing I have is a combat knife. I really need a proper close-combat weapon; this tiny combat knife isn't going to cut it—literally.
I pull up my internal map and see where I am at the moment. Ten kilometers from the nearest outpost.
"Damn it."
And I don't bring any emergency flares, either. I knew I should've brought one instead of grabbing an extra explosive charge.
Bullets rip through the air above me, and I grit my teeth before popping out and firing back. I continue to run deeper into the abandoned complex and keep firing. I hide in another rubble and keep firing. Even as I empty one magazine after another, the machines keep coming. I hide behind the rubble as I fire my last bullet.
Oh well. Looks like this is it for me.
I grip my combat knife, preparing for one last glorious, probably stupid, charge—
"For the Emperor!"
A voice screams across the battlefield, followed by explosions.
I blink. Peek over the rubble. Blink again.
Twenty figures in black armor tear through the machines with weapons I've never seen before. Their armor looks ancient and futuristic at the same time, and the bulky carriers on their backs aren't anything I recognize.
And their melee weapons—
"Is that… a chainsword?!"
A chainsword should not be that effective—but they're slicing through machine bodies like they're made of paper.
I want one.
Some fire explosive rounds. Others wield weapons that shoot energy—I think it's plasma? Maybe? Hard to tell from here. I need a closer look.
I watch them move—coordinated, precise, synchronized. Perhaps they have a secure communications link, similar to YoRHa's system. There is no way a regular Android can move that precisely and coordinated.
While they draw machine fire, I sprint toward the nearest unit and stab it. I dismantle them one by one. After a minute, the battlefield is silent.
When I approach the group, they immediately aim their weapons at me.
"Peace! I'm friendly!"
After a tense moment, they lower their weapons. One of them speaks.
"Who are you? Identify yourself."
"My name is Jackass! Demolition Specialist of the Anemone Resistance Group!"
They glance at each other, and then the leader nods.
"Very well. Greetings, Jackass of the Resistance Army. We require information from a leader of a Resistance Camp. Can you take us to one?"
"Of course! Safer to travel together anyway. The camp is southwest of here—come on."
The leader nods, and we move out. While walking, I glance at her.
"So, what's your name?"
She removes her helmet—and I blink at the sight of her pale, white hair. Huh. That looks familiar. However, I don't think they are from YoRHa. They do not wear that blindfold visor, and their weapons are vastly different.
"I am Palatine Sabine of the Order of Our Martyred Lady."
I frown. Never heard of that one. I search my memory banks. Nothing. I'll check the camp archives later.
"Right. As I said, I'm Jackass. I'm from Anemone's Resistance Group of the Army of Humanity."
They perk up at the word Humanity. Makes sense—anything tied to humans gets android attention.
"So what's this Order of Our Martyred Lady? You guys, frontline fighters or something?"
"A portion of our force fights on the frontlines, yes."
"Then what're you doing here? Are you a deserter?"
I barely finish the sentence before she slams me to the ground and presses her weapon against my head. The others aim their guns at me instantly.
"NEVER! Never question our loyalty to the God-Emperor! We would sooner die than abandon our duty!"
"Sorry! Sorry! I didn't mean it!"
She growls for another second before letting me up.
"Right, sorry. My mouth runs ahead of my brain."
"Hmph. See that it doesn't."
Okay. Definitely zealots. Haven't seen this type in a while.
"Who is this God-Emperor, anyway?"
"Ahhhh~"
Oh no. I know that tone.
"The God-Emperor is our Lord and Savior! He is—"
I tune her out and nod along politely as she launches into full sermon mode. Why do I always get rescued by zealots? They're the worst kind of androids. The last one made me hear their voice for four hours, and it looks like she will preach for at least an hour.
Oh well. I'll make Anemone deal with them.
At least I survived.
==| Line Break |==
When we arrive at the camp, I notice that other visitors have also arrived. The black outfits and matching blindfolds are unmistakable—those of YoRHa. I remember them from the report Anemone gave to me. I think they are called 2B and 9S.
Rumor has it that they caused the massive explosion in the Abandoned Factory. I wonder if they're here because of the machine movement in the desert? They should've detected it by now.
"Anemone!"
I yell as we walk through the camp. Other androids glance at the newcomers curiously—even the YoRHa pause, and I can feel their confusion despite the blindfolds.
"Jackass. What are you doing here? I thought you were establishing a new outpost on the desert border."
"I was. Then I got jumped by machines before reaching the site."
"How many?"
"One hundred and seventy-three."
"That is… a lot."
"Yes. Thankfully, these guys were nearby, or I'd be scrap metal by now."
I gesture to Sabine. She removes her helmet and steps forward.
"I am Palatine Sabine of the Order of Our Martyred Lady. You must be Anemone, Captain of the Resistance Army. Is that correct?"
Anemone nods cautiously.
"That's correct. Thank you for rescuing Jackass. She might be loud and obnoxious—"
"Hey!"
"—but she is a valuable member of the Resistance Army."
Sabine nods.
"By the Grace of the God-Emperor, we found her before her life could return to His side."
"What?"
Ah yes. Here we go. The moment I've been waiting for. Talking to them is exhausting. They're even more zealous than the zealot androids I've met before. Emperor this, Emperor that. I swear I need an extra CPU just to parse their vocabulary.
"It is by His light that we reached her in time. However, that is not why we are here. We have come to—"
"Scan Complete."
We turn as two Pods return to 2B and 9S. Sabine stiffens—her hand twitching—but thankfully, she doesn't attack.
"Informative: The individual known as Sabine is a human. Her biological structure exhibits modifications to enhance physical and mental capabilities. However, she is a human."
What?! Impossible! Humans should be on the moon! Did the Council of Humanity send them? No message about that.
I scan her again with my own sensors. This time, I make sure to use the most powerful scanner, and after a few seconds, the result appears in front of me: She's human. Definitely human.
"What—are you really human?" Anemone asks, voice trembling slightly.
Instead of answering verbally, Sabine removes her gloves, pulls out a knife—
—and stabs her own hand.
"No! What are you doing?!"
I dash forward.
"Someone get the twins! She needs medical attention! You—bring water! You—cloth! We can't let it get infected!"
I stare at Sabine.
"You didn't need to stab yourself!"
"It is easier for you to scan my blood than take my word."
"But you didn't have to make such a big wound!"
"Big? Hmph. This is a flesh wound. I've suffered worse. In fact, it is already closing."
"What?"
I look again—and the wound is sealing rapidly.
"How? Humans take time to heal!"
"We are Sisters of Battle. We fight in the name of the God-Emperor. A minor wound cannot hinder us."
She then turns to Anemone.
"However, we require information from any Commander of a Resistance Army regarding the planetary situation. We cannot retake this world without knowing its state. I need updated reports on logistics, territorial control, and enemy distribution. Everything."
As she speaks, my eyes grow wider and wider. This is it. This is what I've been waiting for. Someone worthy to lead us.
Not the distant, disconnected people orbiting above—but real humans, standing on the ground with us.
Humans, who will lead us to victory.
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