Pain of The Lone Spectre

by Adrian P

  “Are you trying to drown me in favour?”

  “Don’t pretend like you hate it,” Charlotte giggled.

  “These walkers,” Audi ignored her while watching the footage. “Are you sure these are the only ones? Have you scouted the area around the city to see whether there are others?”

  “Only those two,” Charlotte replied. “Even if you can handle one on your own, the other will still pose a threat to a small task force. You could request an air strike, but—“

  “Nope,” Audi said. “An indiscriminate strike might kill Konstantin. I can’t allow that.”

  Charlotte frowned. “Why don’t you want him to die? It’s complicating our assault operation.”

  The boy glared at her. “I thought I’ve told you why I came to this planet.”

  “You want some medicine.”

  “Yes, and only Konstantin knows how to get it,” the boy’s voice stiffened. “Someone in Nagisawa Corporation is sick. She’s suffering from her condition, and I’ve had enough seeing her suffer from a situation that’s beyond her control, beyond her responsibility,” he paused. “This cure is her only chance for recovery: physically, psychologically, and socially.”

  “Her,” Charlotte frowned.

  “What about it?”

  “Nothing,” she pouted and looked away. “So you do have pests flying around.”

  The boy cocked an eyebrow. “What?”

  “Tell me your plan,” Charlotte ignored him. “We need a carefully planned surgical strike, taking into account the firepower their Ursa walker can deliver.”

  The boy kept silent. He picked up debris and rocks from his surroundings and arranged them into a battlefield model. “These large rocks are the trucks, while small pebbles are foot soldiers. The superweapon—missiles loaded with weather control warheads—are placed within one of the trucks.”

  “Which one?”

  “Doesn’t matter,” the boy replied. “We’ll destroy all the trucks after I lure Konstantin out. So long as The Military Sector can provide enough firepower, this mission is going to be easy.”

  “Keep in mind Konstantin’s strange superpower, the ability to control Electromagnetic Force,” she said. “Other than shooting out lightning, he can manipulate metals according to his will.”

  “Your stealth suit isn’t safe then.”

  “I know,” Charlotte nodded again. “It’s mostly made of reinforced polymer, but many of the interior processing units contain metal parts.”

  “Can’t you take it off and fight without it?” Audi asked. “We don’t really need stealth in this mission. You can help by supporting the soldiers from range.”

  She paused. “I…can’t fight without wearing this suit.”

  “Why?”

  “That—“

  “Heya!” a booming voice echoed from the entrance door.

  Bryant stepped into the building and glanced at the rock patterns in front of Audi and Charlotte. “What is this? Strategising using ancient methods?” he laughed. “Any genius plan at bay?”

  “Not genius, just practical,” the boy replied. “These are the schematics of our soon-to-be battlefield, big man. You are going to be instrumental in it.”

  “How so?”

  “Konstantin is calling in two Ursa walkers—their bipedal vehicles—to defend him, and we can’t defeat them with mere foot soldiers,” Audi pointed at the rocks. “I’m going to need you to handle one.”

  “Wait, wait,” Bryant put both hands on his hips. “Aren’t you overestimating me a little? No matter how strong my armoured suit is, I can’t possibly take on a bipedal vehicle.”

  “Not on your own. Crowned Confederacy’s military will be helping.”

  “You want me to tank it? Hold it back? Make it focus its fire on me?”

  “Something like that.”

  Bryant crossed his arms. “Interesting,” he grinned. “I’ll hit it with everything I’ve got.”

  “Good, now—“

  “Wait,” Charlotte interrupted. “What about the other walker? Are you going to handle it?”

  He shook his head. “Not before I lure and beat Konstantin one-on-one.”

  “No!” Charlotte grabbed his shoulder. “He defeated five of us single-handedly before, and now you want to face him alone?”

  “I’ve faced stronger opponents before,” Audi replied. “And Konstantin did not defeat us, we ran away.”

  “Because else we’re dead!” the girl punched him lightly.

  “I’m the only one who can face him, since I neither use advanced electronics nor cover myself in a metal cage like you two,” he replied. “I’ll beat him with fist if I have to.”

  Bryant sighed. “You might not have any armour, but the moment he hit you with a lightning, your body is toast.”

  Charlotte frowned. “And using magnetism, he could hit you with a high-speed steel beam and you’re pulp.”

  “Enough with the gory thoughts,” the boy said. “When I said I’ll face him one-on-one, I don’t mean head-on. What am I, stupid?”

  “Then?”

  “I’ll share the details later. For now, I will begin coordination with The Military Sector,” he replied. “Ready yourselves, the assault begins tonight.”

  Bryant crossed his arms. “Konstantin is going to fight us to death,” he said. “He spent the past few years intricately hiding his superweapon from the public, sacrificing his time and life,” he paused. “Expect him to resist with every bit of spark in him. Pun not—“

  “Bah. Let him puke every lightning he can summon,” the boy smirked.

  “A bastard with a power so simplistic won’t be too hard to handle.”

  Chapter 1 / Part 3

  In a half-destroyed warehouse complex in the outskirts of Benteng City, soldiers in brown greatcoat and red scarves patrolled around a convoy of trucks. They held a standard rifle with wooden stock and iron sight, while wearing a brown artificial leather sash with one knife sheath and grenade pockets attached. They used their communicators and coordinated with each other in Russian, save for two men.

  One man wore glasses and a suit, but he took the suit off and slammed it on the ground. A soldier handed him a brown greatcoat. He wore it.

  Unlike the soldiers’ uniform, his coat was lined with thin aluminium coating, slightly reflecting the lights hitting its surface. It covered the entirety of his neck, but was a few length shorter at the bottom than the rest of the soldiers. His boots were metal-capped and metal-soled, but the man walked normally—strong enough to bear the increased weight of his feet.

  His name was Konstantin Simonovsky.

  On his opposite, the other man wore an exoskeleton suit with his helmet engaged. The armour’s colour theme was dark blue, with multiple hatches hiding retractable weapons placed all over his arms. Neither slim nor buff, the suit struck the image of a well-balanced offensive and defensive combat hardware.

  “Will they be attacking soon?” Konstantin spoke in English. “How are you so sure?”

  “The Bandana Boy wanted the medicine, and we are stationary right now—at our most vulnerable.” The Man in Blue Suit replied. “It is foolish for them not to take the opportunity to attack.”

  Konstantin Simonovsky frowned. He clenched his fists and turned his eyes crimson red, launching a series of electric sparks from his arm. “I do not have the cure he wants,” he said. “But if he insists on coming, I am more than ready to welcome him.”

  “Don’t be so overconfident.”

  “What?” the sparks on Konstantin’s arm strengthened.

  “The Bandana Boy has the support of Princess Victoria, and with it, the entire Crowned Confederacy,” he said. “Do not expect an attack conducted exclusively with mercenaries. Expect a full-scale military assault.”

  “Let them come,” a voice in strong Russian accent echoed.

  Konstantin and The Man in Blue Suit turned.

  A man in standard Brotherhood greatcoat, albeit with silver insignia on his shoulder caps, s
trode towards them. He was tall and broad, but not brawny. Conscripts stood straight and saluted with a fist bump on their chest, and the man returned the salute without stopping. The man stood in front of Konstantin and saluted, but the latter didn’t return it.

  “We’ve seen the inferiority of The Tyrant Empire’s military in Gleicherde,” the man said. “How reliant they are on their technology while ignoring the most vital components of War: the humans.”

  Konstantin sighed. “This is Rear Admiral Sasha Gryaznov,” he looked at The Man in Blue Suit. “He’s one of my fleet’s top commanders, and also the biggest pain in our back side.”

  “Say what you want, but I am handpicked by The Patriot of War himself,” the Rear Admiral replied. “Unlike you, I took part in the Great Liberation. In the battlefield. In the frontline.”

  Konstantin grinned. “Your army was obliterated by that flying zeppelin in Gleicherde’s capital. Is it not The Bandana Boy who saved you?”

  “How so?”

  “One report said you were stuck in a malfunctioning Tundra Tank when that massive zeppelin was struck down,” he replied. “If not for The Bandana Boy, you might not even be alive—“

  Sasha snatched Konstantin’s collar and yanked him closer.

  “If not for that bastard, I wouldn’t even be stuck there, asshole,” Sasha said in Russian. “You have no idea what he’s done.”

  Konstantin listened.

  “He killed my son,” Sasha said. “Sliced him up to pieces and fed him to the dogs.”

  “Petrov?” Konstantin asked. “The Bandana Boy is dangerous, but not the kind of person who would resort to such barbarity.”

  “You weren’t there,” Sasha gritted his teeth. “He mutilated five Vanguard scouts just to lure The Patriot of War into the open. He drew our rescue team and blew them up using traps planted around the city,” he let Konstantin go. “That’s the kind of evil we’re fighting.”

  “Would you even care if your son wasn’t among the victim? If he wasn’t among the ones murdered so gruesomely?”

  Sasha kept silent.

  “We need to maintain our vigilance,” Konstantin spoke in English and turned to The Man in Blue Suit. “Guard Celestial Anvil with your life. I’ll pay you handsomely if all goes well.”

  The Man in Blue Suit nodded.

  “Can’t believe you’re still going with this,” Konstantin said. “Don’t you realise what you’re defending? Who you are defending?”

  “I do not understand,” The Man in Blue Suit replied. “Why does it matter?”

  “We’re here to destroy your civilisation, The Crowned Confederacy, and you willingly go along with us?” Konstantin asked. “Why? Aren’t you the least bit worried?”

  “Worried? Why?” The Man in Blue Suit lowered his tone. “This world is a mess. My choice is between defending a world cruel enough to oppress its people through brutal yet silent means, or letting that world crumble down in flames,” he paused. “If I am going to suffer regardless, I’d choose a path which offers me more money.”

  “Money,” Konstantin clicked his tongue. “Is that your end motivation?”

  “Without money we are slave,” the man replied. “Only wealth can save a human’s life from suffering.”

  “I see,” Konstantin’s voice was monotone. “Get on with your task, and I’ll pay you the moment we leave this planet.”

  “Understood,” the man nodded.

  He turned back and marched away towards the truck convoys.

  “How depressing,” Sasha spoke in Russian as he watched The Man in Blue Suit entered a truck. “Betraying your own people for the sake of wealth. Is this the kind of people that live in The Tyrant Empire?” he clicked his tongue. “If so, The Great Liberator’s wrath is fully justified.”

  Konstantin clenched his fists. “The Crowned Confederacy, this Tyrant Empire, is a splitting image of The White Clan,” he said. “Not only is it capable of oppressing its people by imposing their bondage to wealth, it also actively corrupts young minds into supporting this silent slavery.”

  Sasha chuckled again. “You would know,” he said. “A few years living among Inferior Beings would expose you to the true face of The Tyrant Empire.”

  “And that’s how shallow you are, Rear Admiral.”

  Sasha glared at him.

  “Your hatred for The Tyrant Empire stemmed from mere tales of its corruption, while I have to bear witness as it destroys kindness and compassion in its people,” he continued. “Youths who just started working in Simonovsky Tech were believers in social good, most of them wanted to end poverty and end inequality. But what happened afterwards? A few years into the job, all they can think of is profiteering and business. How to exploit their customers’ needs and wants, and turn them into profit.”

  “Did you not talk to them about it?”

  “I tried, through seminars, but most responded more or less similarly afterwards.”

  “How?”

  Konstantin took a deep breath.

  “Unrealistic.”

  Sasha kept listening.

  “There was a business magnate who popularised the saying: if you still worry about inequality by the age of thirty, it means you have no brain,” Konstantin said. “It means we’re not successful. It means we have no stability in life.”

  “What a prick.”

  “But there’s a truth in what he said,” Konstantin glanced at Sasha. “Humans will never complain about inequality, if they are at the better end of the stick. Why would they? They’re successful at winning the socio-economic game of being among the better off. The rules work in their favour. If anything, they would fight with their entire life so the rules don’t get changed.”

  “I see,” Sasha frowned. “The Tyrant Empire teaches its people that wealth equates to success, and those who still complain about inequality by the age of thirty are failures.”

  Sparks jumped from Konstantin’s body to the ground, illuminating his surrounding with dim blue luminance. “The Patriot of War believes in re-educating the Inferior Beings populating this world once we conquer them all,” his voice stiffened. “Do you truly believe that’s going to work?”

  “Are you doubting The Patriot of War, Konstantin?” Sasha frowned. “Are you questioning the wisdom of our Admiral—the wisdom he borrowed from The Great Liberator?”

  Konstantin turned to Sasha. “Why do you think I agreed in creating Celestial Anvil?” he asked. “If I truly believed in re-educating the Inferior Beings of this world, I wouldn’t have the guts to destroy this city and its populace.”

  Sasha sighed. “You better keep this philosophical defiance secret from The Patriot of War, or indeed, from any of our conscripts,” he pointed at him. “No matter how strong your Bionika is, you will not live through a second of The Patriot of War’s wrath.”

  “I’m not stupid, Rear Admiral,” Konstantin replied. “Carry on with your task, we’ll be moving to Kotabaru Metropolitan shortly—“

  A missile struck one of the trucks.

  The communicator on Sasha’s shoulder echoed a crackle. “Rear Admiral Gryaznov, we have hostiles approaching!” a voice spoke. “Permission for defensive manoeuvre!”

  Sasha snatched the communicator and placed the microphone piece near his lips. “You don’t need my permission for defensive manoeuvre, you stupid Delta! We’ve anticipated this, so get on with it!”

  “Understood!” the voice replied. “Death to the Tyrant!”

  He hung up.

  Konstantin watched the conscripts march to the frontline and took up positions. They opened fire. Bullets and rockets screamed to the air towards a distant ground. Explosion. Within seconds, a return barrage from the enemy came, showering their position continually.

  “What do we have?” Konstantin asked.

  “Several fireteams of Tyrant Warriors,” Sasha said. “From their armament, I’m guessing…not the marines…they’re the army.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I’ve fought them
in Gleicherde,” he replied. “I’ve remembered both their strengths and weaknesses. Technologically and strategically,” he paused. “And they haven’t changed a bit.”

  “It’s not the Tyrant Warriors you should be worried about,” Konstantin said. “The Bandana Boy will be here at any moment.”

  “Of course, and that’s why I’m staying,” Sasha bumped his fists onto one another.

  “He’ll pay for what he did to Petrov.”

  Chapter 1 / Part 4

  Crowned Confederacy troopers jumped off their armoured transport and assumed a Roman Trench formation: a line formation of heavy infantries covering soldiers wielding Rapid-Firing-Railguns and Guided Mortars. The morning skies lit up with gunfire: railgun from Crowned Confederacy’s side, and gunpowder from Brotherhood’s side. Amidst highly regimented and calculated battle, several units from both sides broke off and improvised, jumping into ruined buildings with their thruster pack to gain high ground and circling the main battlefield to flank the enemies from the side. The Troopers’ lieutenant called in air support, and within seconds, a gunship with twin-railgun cannons emerged between buildings and strafed Brotherhood’s position.

  A building wall exploded out, unveiling Brotherhood’s heavy support walker:

  Ursa.

  A hulking bipedal walker with broad shoulders mounting multiple cannon modules. It stood as high as four humans, and it was heavily plated with reinforced armour. Bullets from Troopers showered its surface, but they bounced off at an angle. Rockets followed, but the sloped armour deflected the missiles before they can punch through. Explosion. The rockets blew up in front of the walker as they recoiled, but it stood steady.

  The Ursa fired at the gunship with all its cannons. The gunship tried evading, but the Ursa pilot predicted its flight path, raining heavy fire upon its tail and wings. Fire erupted from its turbine, sending the aircraft spinning towards a distant ground and crashed onto a ruined tower. More gunships emerged from the horizon, focusing their fire on the walker.