Titanfall: Empty Husk

Prologue

Humanity.

You and I, we are all human. We've all been through hardships, experienced struggles and battles. There were times where we wanted to give up, surrender.

In the end, no matter what we've faced, it all came down to one thing:

We move forward...

We persist.

We fight.

When I found out that the man I thought I was had been dead for over five years... and that I was just a revenant with his memories...

I continued to live on and keep persisting. Even if my life had been a lie... I just could not surrender.

The Interstellar Manufacturing Corporation, this... IMC has been a blight on the Frontier Systems for over 20 years.

The Frontier Militia continues to bring the fight against them, despite their losses and victories.

After all, a drowning dog will keep on paddling if it believes there is hope...

My name was Logan Rorke.

They called me...

Locust.

[Planet: Angelia
[Location: Harbour District, Angel City
[Date: 10, 12, 2715
[Time: 2:12 EST

Dropship Copters sputtered overhead, the moonlight shining down as they hovered over the harbour, patrol heavy with armed guards.

"Beta 3 Airborne to Beta 5 Salvage. Be advised, we've picked up reports of terrorist operations in your district. Probably nothing right now but keep it sharp." One of the aircraft pilots stated as they flew overhead.

"A notice was just sent out by HQ. That Pilot is wanted for desertion, defected only a day ago. Stay cautious, that sonuvabitch you found is hella dangerous, over."

"Solid copy airborne, we got it covered. Detain and recover, this traitor isn't leaving us anytime soon." An IMC Marine on ground replied, pressing his finger to his comms.

Spotlights shined down on shadows as IMC patrolled the docking bays.

Near the cargo crates, a straggler walked along the edges, mindlessly looking left to right.

This struggle was not human. It was a BRD-01 Spectre, wandering into regretful places.

It stopped and rotated its body, facing the black lake enveloped by the night.

Suddenly, the automated unit flinched as something shoved it forward. It halted, turning back with his Volt SMG raised.

However, nobody was there.

Nobody it could see, at least.

Its head was impaled by the end of a data knife wielded by a translucent figure.

It dropped to the floor on its back twitching, only for the cloaked man to grab its fallen head and twist it off like a loose screw.

The man tossed the head into the lake, before grabbing the Spectre's Volt and uncloaking.

There stood a Cloak Pilot, clad in bulky combat armour with a ghillie suit coated over his shoulders.

On his vest, there was a patch.

The emblem of an ace symbol with the words "ACES" inscribed below.

"Move." He signalled with his hand as multiple other soldiers filed out from the shadows, inching their bodies against the crates.