Silver Saint

Eighteen: The Ones Who Walk Away

//Report: Quinn, Jackson.

//Axion Industries manufacturing base.

//Designation: "The Forge".

//Resume log.

In that instant, staring down into the darkness, I knew what I had to do.

Maybe it was the memories of Warsaw, fresh in my mind, but I reacted on instinct, slamming my right hand against the controls. With the turn of a dial, I heard the whine of my Guardian's reactor core grow deeper and louder, straining as if under pressure.

In that instant, I pulled the trigger of my SLAM projector... and immediately regretted my decision.

Taking a page from Taewon's book, I'd overcharged my Guardian's weapons system, diverting power away from its legs to increase the efficacy of its weapons. For most mechs, this would've simply increased their rate of fire, but for the Guardian's SLAM projector, however, it was a completely different story.

The SLAM projector fired, and suddenly, my world turned into a blur of blue light and motion.

I barely had time to brace before the impact hit me like a freight train. My Guardian wasn't just pushed back by its own overcharged blast-it was launched. The overcharged SLAM projector recoiled so hard that the entire mech was hurled up the slope like a kicked stone, metal screeching as I tumbled violently across the shifting battlefield. My cameras flickered with static, my IRON chip sending a cascade of error messages onto my heads-up display, but I could barely register any of it.

I wasn't falling anymore-for a split second, I caught a glimpse of the pit shrinking beneath me, the void that had nearly swallowed me whole now receding as my Guardian tumbled end over end. Then, with a deafening crash, I slammed into solid ground, skidding wildly. Sparks filled my cameras as I was nearly thrown from my seat, sending me slamming against the straps of my harness as my Guardian twisted uncontrollably across the battlefield. The world spun-floor, ceiling, wall, floor again-until finally, with a final metallic crunch, I smashed into the far wall of the chamber, hitting hard enough to leave a deep, jagged indentation in the steel.

Then, silence.

For a long, painful moment, I just hung from my seat's safety straps, dazed and disoriented, my left ear ringing from the sheer force of my own recklessness. I felt a sharp, stinging pinch somewhere deep inside my head, and I clumsily grasped at the back of my neck, feeling for my IRON implant. With a clumsy tap, the implant's namesake microchip came free, sliding across the back of my neck and falling to the floor of the capsule.

My Guardian now lay on its side, cameras angled outward at the rest of the battlefield. From my perspective, Amani, Kedrick and Leto now fought up an immense wall, cutting down the few remaining Typhons that stood in their path.

My harness had saved me from any further injury, but now I hung from my seat like an animal in a snare, left suspended. Warnings flashed across my HUD, screaming at me about structural strain, but to my surprise, everything seemed still intact.

I exhaled slowly, feeling the adrenaline drain from my system.

"Holy shit," I muttered, shaking my head. "I can't believe that worked."

"Jax!" Amani called. Her voice over the comms was filled with worry. "Jackson, are you okay?"

Reaching up with one hand, I tapped the quick-release on my harness and felt my hands and knees strike the metal wall of my capsule that now acted as a temporary floor. I was sore, but the worst part was the dizziness-I swayed in place, trying to keep from collapsing onto my stomach in the cramped confines of the capsule.