A Few Hours Later... Night Raid Headquarters... Hudson's POV
Tone: DAILY CALIBRATION SUBROUTINE COMPLETE... ALL SYSTEMS OPERATIONAL...
Hudson: Good.
Working on Tone late at night, just as the sun began to rise, Tone noticed a tiny figure approaching the base.
Tone: IT HAS SEEM YOUR FRIEND, MINE, HAS RETURNED FROM HER MISSION...
Bulat: But she's late. And with a broken arm.
Najenda: Mine.
Looking at Mine, her eyes showed a deep sense of grief and regret.
Najenda: Where is Sheele?
Then she spoke, with sadness.
Mine: Sheele was.....
Don't say it. Please....
Mine: She's..... dead. Devoured by Hekatonkheires
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And with that said, everyone looked down to the ground in sadness. Meanwhile, my own mind raced with the one memory we shared.
Hudson: Are you even supposed to be doing this?
Sheele: I... don't know. Probably not.
Hudson: Well....thanks anyways. Sheele. I think I really just needed a hug.
With that memory playing itself over and over again, I clenched my fist in rage and approached my Titan.
That damn mutt....
Hudson: Tone. Release the emergency kit from your core.
Tone: PILOT...
Najenda: Lieutenant. What are you doing?
Tone: YOU KNOW THIS ISN'T AN EMERGENCY...
Hudson: Upholding my mission. Please, Tone. Open it up.
Tone:... ... ... ... ... UNDERSTOOD, PILOT... PLEASE DO NOT BE RECKLESS IN WHATEVER ACT YOU COMMIT TO...
Opening up a hidden compartment in the chassis of the Titan, I grabbed the contents inside and prepared them: A SMART Pistol Mk.II with several magazines and a simple eye contact for self implantation. Back when pilots were first becoming a thing, they were given eye implants to adjust to the most technologically advanced weapon in the Frontier. When I became a pilot, the Mk.II model was introduced, as well as a contact lens, giving every capable soldier the ability to use their product. Sliding the contacts into my eyes, they began to lit up a bright red, calibrating my field of view.
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