Jacket Knight: Old Wrongs Done Right

Chapter 6: The End? Not.

 I felt something hit my hands, and nothing else.

I opened my eyes, and I couldn't help but smile at the still-lit rocket in my hand.

I twisted the rocket around, holding it over my shoulder, like I was about to throw a football, aiming for the group of soldiers. The group started to shuffle around, clearly starting to realize what was about to happen.

I let the rocket go, and it zoomed toward the ground.

I felt the explosion coat me in heat, and I covered my face as the explosion faded.

The sparks and smoke drifted around as I climbed down from the crate, and I found the guy who I was looking for.

He was crawling, painfully slowly, and I yanked him up by his collar.

"Who are you?" I asked calmly, and he let out a growl.

"Why the hell are you here?"

"Well, I'm here for something I think your boss stole from me." He laughed.

"He stole what, your lollipop? Dumbass."

"I want that experimental armor." He stared at me, uncomprehending.

I sighed, and aimed my Glock at his chest. "Don't make me pull the trigger." I said, giving him a forlorn look, and he gulped.

"Y-y-you won't. You won't d-d-do that." He stammered, and I dropped him onto the floor. I pulled the slide back once, letting it slip back into place. I aimed the muzzle of the pistol at him.

"One more chance." I said, plastering the most menacing look I could muster onto my face. He tried to scoot away, but I stomped on his foot, making him let out a brief cry of pain.

I aimed directly for his privates, declaring, "You have one last chance!"

"OKAY, OKAY!! It should be in crate number six!" he nervously exclaimed. I smiled.

"That wasn't so hard was it?" I said as I started to turn around.

I heard a small click, then quickly turned around, aiming my gun at the crippled man.

We both had our pistols drawn, ready to shoot, but I didn't hesitate.

........

I found crate number six pretty easily. It was the only one painted bright blue, and had a spray-painted sign which said: "FRAGILE" in big red lettering.

I opened the crate up, and I found a lot of things inside.

There were racks of various weapons on the side of the crate, but what really caught my eye was the container at the other end of the corridor.

I walked up to it, and I inspected it. The cover was a giant glass wall, and I couldn't help but give it a gentle tap.

At least, I thought I gave it a gentle tap.

Cracks bursted across the tinted glass, and I gave the glass a single flick. It collapsed into dust, gathering at my feet.

The armor that I saw on the news stood motionless, and I inspected it. The helmet had a single horn pointing upwards from the helmet, and it reminded me of Excalibur from Warframe. The rest of the armor was...sort of barebones. There was some sort of exoskeleton, which had connected parts like the forearm and ankle armor.

There was a chest-plate, and I touched it gently.

"User recognized. Deconstructing armor." I stepped back from the armor as it began to shake violently.

With a sound like firecrackers, the armor's limbs and armor shrunk into a small little plate, which fell onto the floor.

I picked it up, and suddenly, strange holographic screens flickered into life in my field of vision.

One screen, attached to the small little plate, read: Exo Armor Mk. VII, Current State: Compressed.

A second screen appeared.

Do you wish to apply? Y/N

I focused on the Y, and the screen faded from sight. Another one replaced it.

Place the unit on the nape of the user's neck.

I started to have second thoughts about this. Why would my mom do this? But I knew there was only one way to find out.

"Alright th-GAH!" The plate fastened tightly onto my neck, sending a jolt of pain down my spine.

I stumbled backwards, leaning against the wall for support. Finally, another screen appeared.

The unit has been installed. Welcome, user. Do you want a tutorial on your suit's abilities?

Y/N?

For the next 20 minutes, I learned about all my suit. I learned about how it could automatically perform stuff like parkour, and how it could be compressed to hide its true nature.

Then, I remembered the racks of weapons right beside me.

I browsed through, looking through the rifles, carbines, and various other weapons. And then I saw them.

A pair of Desert Eagles. Extended barrels and extended magazines.

I plucked them off the rack, and due to my newfound strength, these powerhouses felt like they weighed an ounce or two, when in reality, they were four to five pounds unloaded.

I took a couple of magazines, as well as a pair of tactical holsters.

After clipping them on, I felt like a modernized cowboy, and believe me, it felt good.

I decided it would be too much trouble to explain to dad why I had a carbine inside my room, so I biked back home.

I hadn't realized how exhausted I was when I simply fell onto my bed, not even bothering to put my night clothes on. And so, I fell asleep.