Chapter 32 Waking Giants of Steel

With Ewan's ID card, Aria made her way straight to the main elevator. She selected the surface floor, swiping the card. The elevator smoothly ascended through the layers of the Beehive.

As the doors slid open, she slipped into the corridor. She sneaked her way past the patrolling soldiers. After years spent in the military, she knew every blind spot, every camera angle, and every routine of the guards.

Aria ducked into a supply room, quickly grabbing a few reactor parts that she knew would be essential for jump-starting the tank mechs. She tossed them into the trunk of a small Vallen particle-powered jeep, grateful for the vehicle's whisper-quiet engine. This was the key to slipping away unnoticed.

Once she had everything she needed, she drove toward the main protective wall. As she approached the gates, she swiped Ewan’s ID card again. Beyond this point lay the wastelands - an unforgiving expanse filled with remnants of a world lost to the mutant threat.

 Aria glanced in the rearview mirror. The lights of the Beehive blinked to life behind her, illuminating the complex against the evening sky. The fortress that had been her home, her refuge, now seemed distant. The Beehive was a massive bunker excavated within a mountain.

Formidable railguns and heavy cannons stood on its hills, the last line of defense against the horrors lurking outside its walls. Thick, imposing barriers surrounded the entire compound. 

As she drove away into the wastelands, she caught sight of flashing emergency lights in her rearview mirror. They’d spotted her leaving, and she knew the protocol: a restricted breach at this level wouldn’t trigger an immediate pursuit, especially not at dusk when the area beyond the wall was too dangerous to secure. For now, they would log her escape and watch.

Aria’s gaze lingered on the Beehive as it grew smaller in the distance until it completely vanished from her sight. She pressed her hand to the dashboard and said, “Bastion, activate.”

Her body responded immediately. The artificial skin over her left forearm shifted, retracting and morphing seamlessly into a tactical display embedded into her arm. It pulsed to life, casting a faint, cool blue glow.

A calm, mechanical voice echoed in her head.

“Bastion powering on. Sleep mode deactivated. Running full tactical suit diagnostics... error... error... anomalies detected, unable to access functions.”

“Running reactor diagnostics... Vallen Particle reactor... fully charged. Life support... online. Body enhancement... online. AI assistance... online.”

The display glitched slightly as Bastion continued.

“Full mobility functions... online but at limited capacity due to recent structural repairs. Muscular augmentation... online, but 78% optimal. Reflexive neural response... operational, latency at 0.05 seconds.”

Aria stayed quiet as Bastion continued.

“Combat module diagnostics... access error, unable to retrieve heavy artillery module and electromagnetic shielding module. Minimal shielding only. Sensory enhancement... partially online, lacking infrared and night-vision subroutines.”

“Proximity detection... 50% functional; enhanced targeting system offline. Biomechanical muscle response... recalibrated, efficiency at 85%. All remaining enhancements are locked in standby mode pending further diagnostics or repair.”

The AI paused, a small loading circle spinning on her display.

“Final status: Vallen Particle reactor at full charge, prepared for moderate power exertion but unable to sustain prolonged maximum output. Estimated operational capacity at current diagnostics... 72%.”

Aria took a deep breath. 

“Looks like you’re a bit worse for wear, Bastion. What is the estimated operational time running maximum load in combat mode?” 

“Recommend functionality is 48 hours.”

"That should be more than enough, thanks. You can go back to sleep mode, I will wake you up when I need your assistance."

“Acknowledged, Operator. Going sleep mode."

Aria drove through the night, her eyes fixed on the dark, empty road ahead. The vast wasteland slowly gave way to crumbling buildings as dawn’s first light crept over the ruins of the city. This was where it had happened - where Raptor 01 had torn through her and Ewan's squads.

This place had been filled with screams and explosions, but now it was eerily quiet.

Aria drove slowly through the narrow, broken streets, her eyes scanning every corner. Broken-down tank mechs lay scattered like fallen giants, some half-buried under rubble, others gutted on the street. She stopped at each one, climbing out of the jeep to check the systems, hoping to find one that still worked. 

Hours passed, and Aria’s hope began to fade. But then, she turned a corner and spotted a tank mech lying on its side, its body mostly intact. She walked up to it and saw the markings - it was from Ewan's squad. 

The cockpit was closed, and as she inspected it, Aria realized the pilots had never even made it in. It looked like they’d been caught in an avalanche of rubble, likely from the sheer force of Raptor 01’s attack.

 Shrapnel from the ambush lay embedded in the surrounding rubble, and the mech itself bore dents and scars, but both its tank and mech modes responded when she powered it on. Grimly, she climbed into the cockpit, grateful for the luck in finding a working machine. She adjusted her route and headed toward the area where Combelt IV had fallen.

It was damaged as badly as she remembered. Its frame was mangled, with one arm twisted and unusable, the shoulder railguns torn clean off, and a massive hole carved through its side, exposing inner mechanisms. The cockpit looked barely operable as if only held together by sheer force of will.

Aria spent hours hammering, wrenching, and resetting various mechanical components. She used spare parts from the functioning tank mech, prying out usable circuits, joints, and power couplings to try and stabilize it. 

By midday, she had forced it into tank mode. The mech looked rough but she would be able to tow it back to HQ.

As she prepared to set off back toward Beehive, she heard something. She froze, her gaze snapping at a crumbling building across the street. The voice was faint. Her pulse quickened as she instinctively reached for her knife, scanning the area.

The voice echoed again, low and eerie. 

“Help... please... anyone...”

 Taking a deep breath, she crept toward the building, her footsteps quiet as she edged past fallen beams and shattered glass. The voice grew clearer, a weak yet persistent call echoing off the cold walls.

“Please... don’t leave me...”

Aria rounded a corner, her grip tightening on her weapon.

“Hello?” she called out cautiously. The eerie silence lingered before the voice responded.

“Please… over here…” It was frail, coming from deeper inside the building.