"Pilot? Pilot, are you with me? Pilot? Pilooooooooooooot. You're still breathing, so you aren't dead." RP-3900 spoke, crouching within the impact crater, a massive metallic hand outstretched, prodding the limp body of his new pilot. It had been several minutes since his reawakening and things were not going as he had planned. After yet another long prod of poking the child's face, the titan backed off, resting its arm upon the bend of its knee, optic sweeping from the new acting pilot to his previous one, the rate of decomposition indicating they both had been stuck here far longer than what should have been given the automated distress signal, though, with his skeletal nature, automated systems would have shaved that off to conserve power when the overgrowth shaded over the inlaid solar array across his hull plating.
"You know, you're a real ass for leaving me like this? No help, no idea where we are, and certainly not prepared to deal with a child...oh who am I kidding? I'm talking to a corpse. You'd at least laugh at that, though." He muttered, shifting his free hand away from the arc blade impaled into the earth to form a fist, carefully bumping the cold steel against the dead bone, pulling back in a mock explosion as a mechanical sigh rumbled through the speaker system. "It was a pleasure dropping with you Lieutenant, and I wish you passed peacefully after whatever happened," Rp-3900 stated, gazing around the forest once more, scanning through the memory banks prior to their final drop into the woods he crouched within. Yet, all that was retrievable was scrambled static and the last audio recording of the previous mission, "Fold"—the last word of his previous pilot. Any cursory information regarding the word came to dead ends. All that he could piece together was the rerouted flight aboard the MSC Allac Mores and the subsequent drop to his current location with a mortally injured pilot onboard, with the events in the middle blurred to static and the aforementioned word.
However, breaking the data stream analysis, Rp-3900 looked back towards his acting pilot. The boy slowly started to come around as he groaned, his organic optics fluttering open and moving his limbs under himself. "Where am I? That was...a dream, right?" The boy muttered, rubbing his eyes before freezing completely as the titan shifted, snapping branches of a nearby tree and scattering them to the boy's right.
"There was no dream pilot. However, I would like to know where I have landed." The giant machine said, watching the boy snap its attention towards him, and visible stress levels appeared on his face, more so when he began scrambling back till slamming into the hefty trunk of an oak. "Y-you! W-what are you!? Did...oh my god, did you eat that man!? Is that what happens to Titan meals!?" The boy yelled, frantically jabbing a shaking hand toward the corpse of Lt. Day King. Optic blinking, the titan shifted itself to face the body once more before turning back to stare at his pilot.
"Negative, Pilot Day King succumbed to blood loss due to multiple puncture wounds of various munitions. I did not 'eat them'. However, during combat operations, uninformed personnel may presume such a notion of a titan. However, members of the Frontier Militia do not endorse the consumption of human flesh." RP stated, shifting into a standing position and gripping the blade. Mathew watched in shock as the sword was ripped free from the ground, gleaming against the sunlight beaming through the open canopy as the 'titan' attached it to a portion of its rear torso.
"S-so, you're a titan?" Matthew stuttered, limbs shaking as the things glowing 'eye' stared down upon him. "Indeed, I am RP-3900, a Ronin Prime class titan of the Frontier Militia's 6th Militia Fleet. However, my previous pilot often referred to me as 'Reaper.' If you wish to do so, I do not mind pilot." 'Reaper' said, shifting over to the young boy, the ground rumbling under its steps with trees rustled around it, casting more branches to the ground around them. Staring up at the 'Titan,' Mathew felt his limbs start coming back under his control, yet he did not scamper and run as his mind told him to. Instead, he slowly got to his feet, shaky as they may be, and stared into the thing's eye's soft glow.
YOU ARE READING
Attack on Titanfall
AcciónMathew was your normal street rat, abandoned by his parents at the age of six, he grew up learning the ways of thievery as a means if struggling to get by. Though when one day, finally caught and merely escaping a chase by the military police. He st...
