Sigma/Star

Chapter 119: Porter vs Artemis

Porter rolled aside as Artemis's fist ploughed through a storage warehouse, shredding the metal and boring a large hole. Without hesitation, the general had already turned and fired her shotgun, arm still entrapped in the wall, and Porter had sprung away to dodge it. He was beginning to adapt to the reckless style of Artemis, preparing himself for her relentless assaults.

With Artemis, if there was a chance to attack, it had to be taken. There were no setups, no grace periods, no displays of technical prowess. she didn't spend time staring him down or flaunting her talent. She wanted him executed as quickly as possible, and Porter was fairly sure anyone else on the team would've been caught by surprise by now and killed. One more reason why he couldn't lose this fight.

The glowing orb fizzled around the head of White Storm, an embodiment of chi that was always tracking him. Hiding and dodging was useless, and Porter's drenched clothes and panting breath made it quite clear it would just wear him down. His had was being played for him: Artemis wanted a fight.

Then I'll give her one. Porter rocketed forwards, heading straight for his new target in his opponent. His twin swords cut through the air beside him as he moved, trailing along his body. Artemis had wrenched her appendage free, and was turning to face the challenger. Her wide grin could be felt straight through the metal of her battlesuit, but Porter didn't falter.

The shotgun was raised up, levelled directly at Porter's chest. Both of them knew he had to dodge, had to make some sort of move to get out of this situation. It was why Artemis' finger was tight on the trigger, anticipating a feint, and why Porter wasn't running at top speed.

The gap closed. Neither had wavered. The trigger was squeezed, unleashing a barrage of shrapnel at close-range that collided with Porter's chest.

And promptly passed straight through.

With unimaginable speed, Porter had moved past Artemis, appearing behind her in a flurry of lightning, lashing out at her with his foot and booting her forwards. He struck down with his swords, attempting to sever off her arms at the joints, but Artemis, shotgun dangling downwards, shocked Porter with another shot, one aimed at the ground that helped propel her backwards just enough to dodge his swipe.

The two swords drove into the ground, their points sliding in fairly deep. Before Porter had a chance to rip the weapons free, Artemis' gun was at his face, and he made a hasty decision. He released the handles of his blades, dashing away before he could be blasted to pieces. He watched with displeasure as the orb still followed him, sitting just beside his face.

What now? There weren't a lot of other weapons Porter knew about. His hand-to-hand abilities had never been that great, and an enemy with a shotgun held a vast advantage. The short range of the weapon meant he would be enabling his own death if he charged in bare-handed. But other than that, he was just going to be sitting out here anyways, not really doing anything at all. Something had to be better than nothing, didn't it?

A circular, metallic object fell between his feet, small lights blinking across its surface. Their speed was increasing, hurting Porter's eyes as he stared at them. It was when they stopped, when the flashing ceased and held, that his brain clicked into place: a grenade.

The White Storm's speed was enough to get some distance away from the bomb previously between its feet, but it was too late to escape the blast radius. The Goliath was knocked backwards, bouncing off the ground twice before slamming into a reinforced bunker, sending reverberations throughout the machine. Porter's head spun in the cockpit, his mind in a blurry daze, but he willed himself back onto his feet as quickly as possible. He wasn't really thinking, wasn't strategizing or analyzing what was in front of him; his vision had hardly come together yet for him to even register what was going on.