The Start Of Something Great

Bloodied Sand

Carver's POV: 0917, Jan. 8th

The last few days had been quiet. Too quiet. Team Inferno was still reeling from Simmons' death, each of us carrying the weight of his loss in different ways. Micky had pulled away, keeping to himself more than usual, while Buck had thrown himself into his training—almost obsessively.

We couldn't find Micky anywhere this morning, but Buck was in the armory, cleaning his weapons with mechanical precision. There was no time to dwell on what we'd lost. The next mission was already on the horizon.

The briefing had just ended, and we were headed back to Erberus to strike the second base. I.C.0.N. would lead the attack with their Titans, drawing fire from the base's heavy defenses. Our job was to hit the ground fast , avoid the turrets, and secure the control room. We had to gather intel on the IMC's new warp drive core technology.

Turning the corner, I bumped into someone, knocking them flat on their back.

"Whoa!" I froze.

Looking down, I saw Ray sprawled out on the floor.

"Sorry, Ray," I muttered, offering my hand to help her up. She grabbed it with a smile.

"It's okay, Carver. You almost ready?" she asked, walking beside me now.

"As ready as I can be," I replied, trying to mask the anxiety I felt tightening my chest.

We rounded another corner and reached the dropship bay. The armory doors hissed open, and the armorer greeted us with a nod, opening our lockers without a word. I grabbed my weapons and made my way to my pod.

The hatches on the pods were already open, and I carefully set my weapons in their holsters before climbing inside. The pod's interior was cold, but it felt familiar.

As I settled into the pod, I heard footsteps and looked up just in time to catch my hlmet that Ray tossed at me, which hit me square in the chest. I grabbed it before it could fall.

"Dick," I muttered, trying to hide my grin.

Ray flipped me off with a smirk before climbing into her pod.

The rest of the team arrived shortly after—Buck, Heavy, Jean, and Caleb, each heading to their respective pods.

The hatches sealed, and the pods rotated into position. Through the viewport, I could see the white surface of Erberus.

A robotic voice came through the speakers, its tone flat and mechanical.

"Dropping in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1."

The jolt hit hard as we plunged toward the planet, preparing for the chaos to come.

Needle's POV: 0900, Jan. 8th

The sound of sand crunching beneath my Titan's feet was a symphony of war, one I knew all too well. Erberus was a desert hellscape, but it was my playground now. Ahead, the base came into view, and I could already see a few Titans scrambling to intercept us.

Suddenly, a loud boom echoed across the landscape, and I knew that Idiot had made it to the surface. I then spotted Chuck's Ion Titan as he casually slapped a Legion Titan out of his way.

I grinned and charged forward, raising my rifle. The mag rotated with a satisfying click, glowing orange as I took aim.

I pulled the trigger, and the recoil reverberated through my Titan's frame as the round pierced a Brute Titan, then shot straight through to the Ronin behind it. The two Titans stopped in their tracks, clearly pissed off.

They charged. I sidestepped, narrowly dodging the Brute's missile barrage. But the Ronin took advantage, firing his leadwall at me. The shields flickered but held.

Not wasting a second, I spun and charged the Brute. My Titan's fist connected with its hatch with a crunch, ripping through armor and exposing the pilot inside. Sparks flew, and a fire started to burn at the back of the Titan. The pilot was done.

I thrust my rifle through the Brute's cockpit, firing another charged shot. The round tore through the Brute, straight into the Ronin. The explosion that followed was beautiful—metal and flesh ripped apart in a fiery explosion, sending pieces flying in every direction.

But the Ronin wasn't finished. It moved with surprising speed, and before I could react, it swung its sword at me.

The blade connected with my Titan, and I staggered back. Surprised but not unprepared, I dropped my railgun and grabbed the Ronin's arm before it could strike again.

Activating my thrusters, I lifted off the ground, kicking my feet up and slamming them into the Ronin's chassis. With a sickening snap, its arm ripped out of the socket.

I landed heavily, releasing my grip on the broken arm and moving to stand in front of the Ronin. I raised my right hand high, and with all the strength I could muster, I slammed it down through the Titan's hatch.

I felt the resistance of metal give way, and I wrapped my hand around the pilot, dragging him from the wreckage.

He struggled, but it was futile. I squeezed my fist tighter, the sound of bones snapping filling my ears like music.

The blood that soaked into the sand beneath us was just the beginning. The IMC deserved every bit of suffering I was handing out. They were the true terrorists, and I would make them pay.