Fully Functional Operator

Avii pushed forward, keeping to the shadows cast by flaming buildings when he could and hiding behind toppled carts and slaughtered horses when it was required. Whenever he spotted Kovik forces, he hid, listening as they fired their magical bolts helplessly at the golems that pursued them.

As he peeked through the wreckage at the various slaughters, he began to notice how even after the soldiers had been defeated, their bodies strewn out across the ground, the metal beasts showed little consideration in taking prisoners. Instead, they pushed forward, their heavy feet crushing the men beneath them as they used flames to turn the bodies to smouldering heaps. It was only once the golems had moved on and all that remained was the crackling of flames that Avii emerged to continue his flight.

When he finally reached the armoury, Avii eyed the golems that patrolled the exterior from the cover of a toppled watch tower. With hands extended, they torched the surrounding buildings, forcing soldiers to abandon their covered positions or risk ignition. Then, as they fled in terror, the towering forms gave chase, picking them off one by one. Even the troopers outfitted in quality combat armour that escaped the burning buildings stood no chance. Their weapons firing powerful magical bolts towards the golems did little more than draw the attention of death.

It was only after the final golem had slipped from its post, leaving the armoury courtyard clear, that Avii finally made his move. Entering the ransacked building, the smell of smoke and magic was thick in the air. The moment he stepped beyond the threshold of the open bay, an explosion rocked the back of the structure. Soon another joined it, followed by one more as a trio of arcanzcore, destabilized by the chaos, detonated. This caused the whole building to shake, shifting stored boxes on upper levels enough to send them plummeting to the ground below. Colliding with the floor, they scattered swords and hammers across the blood-soaked stone. But this did little to stop the man, who rushed deeper into the structure towards the growing flames.

Shielding his face from the heat, Avii searched for what he was looking for. As he did, the sound of the roaring conflagration eventually grew loud enough to drown out the screams from outside. To some, this would be a blessing, but to Avii, he liked knowing just how close the battle drew to him. But he couldn’t worry about that. He had a mission. He needed armour.

Unfortunately, from what he remembered, Koviks always stored their MULEs at the deepest, most secure end of the armoury. The deeper into the flames he pushed, the more it became apparent that he was right. It was also then that he realized most of the MULEs had already been taken. What was left had been engulfed in flames, slowly melting as the metal grew hotter by the second. That was when another arcanzcore detonated in the chest of a parked MULE, setting off a chain reaction of the armours beside it. The blasts shook the building, dropping beams and entire levels from above.

Jumping back at the last possible moment, Avii avoided the collapse. He tumbled to the ground as boxes crashed around him, watching as they split open, spilling out scraps of metal and forgotten projects. Cutting him off from the MULEs and doing little but add more tinder to the hungry flames, the man’s heart dropped. He was out of luck.

But that was when he saw it.

It was a single large box, its rectangular form cracked along the sides with the front panel all but shattered from impacting the ground. Within rested a relatively massive metal suit unlike any other in the armoury. Its shape was unique. The colouration of the plates, undeniably different. The external runework was, in a word, flawless. And purposely etched across the chest, still bold and proud, were the letters M.U.L.E.

Approaching slowly, Avii examined its perfect chassis while his heart thudded against his chest. Then, he finally drew close enough to see them. The black scorch marks over the left shoulder where hundreds of cigarettes had been put out before answering calls. Put out to keep a wife none-the-wiser to a young man’s vice.

“Impossible,” Avii muttered, reaching out, his hand brushing the metal. “I thought you lost.”

Avii slipped his hand down the neck of the suit, grabbing at the manual release lever. It stuck just as he remembered it, but after a gentle wiggle and a hiss of residual magic, the chest plate opened for him. It was indeed an original Maldainian MULE. And, more than that, it was his MULE. The very one that had been taken from him the day he was captured by Kovika forces for the first time.

Taking the dagger in his hand, Avii feverishly began to pry at the remaining planks that separated him from his MULE. He stabbed at the gaps between nails, lifting plank by plank until he had opened enough of the box to step himself in. Reaching his armoured foot in first, he locked it into place before backing the rest of his body in.

An exhale of relief reflexively escaped his lips as the inside of the MULE hugged his body. It had been decades since he had felt such comfort in a suit of metal, yet it was exactly as he remembered it. But that had been how all MULEs were designed. All those years ago, this machine had been custom-tailored to him, and no other body would fit it like his. Even though he was much thinner than he had once been, and was currently missing a foot, the magical device appeared to recognize his warmth. The mere return of his body triggered the suit to activate as crystals set into the plates began to glow, coming to life for the first time in ages.

Excitement filled him as he struggled to control the emotional upwelling of feelings. Never daring to assume this day would ever come, he had long since given up hope that he would operate a proper MULE again. And, as much as Avii wanted to rush from the building in his suit and take flight from the Kokiva camp, he knew the runic systems needed at least sixty seconds to initialize after a period of dormancy.

With no option but to wait as the fires continued to consume the building around him, Avii took that time to inspect both the interior and exterior of his suit. By the looks of the scrapes and scratches etched into the dense metal, it was apparent that the Kovika technicians had done their best to try and reveal the secrets within. But Avii had always known that no matter what tools they used, nothing compared to the forge work of a Maldainian craftsman. It was clear by the numerous jab marks around various stones that they had broken plenty of tools trying to pry the embedded leystone from the reinforced metal plates. And since Avii withheld telling them the sequence of crystals that unlocked the magipanel, it appeared they never managed to remove a single bolt from the chassis.

Depressing the proper stones on the left side of the open chest plate, there was a dull click and the right-side breast panel opened. With his final seconds before initialization, he would confirm that all connecting fuse crystals were still good. But, throwing open the panel to confirm their placement, he froze.

“No,” He whispered as something tumbled out and snagged against the inside of the suit. “It’s you…”

Carefully, he grabbed at the delicate chain of woven mithril and lifted it before his face. Admiring it as it glimmered in the firelight of the crumbling armoury, he felt the air leave his lungs. This was the only piece of jewellery he had ever owned. A single locket and a faded crystal that had once been used to call his family. The item that delivered the last words he would ever hear from his precious Kani.

With a whimper, he pulled his fist to his forehead, dangling the necklace before his lips. Fighting back tears, he clenched his jaw tight, choking on sobs as memories of his past life flowed back to him. Of all the things he remembered, all the pain and torment of his slavery, he had forgotten the one trinket he promised he would always recall. Enough time had passed that he assumed he would never see it again, and instead of mourning its loss, he had let it slip from his mind. But now that he had it in his grasp, he remembered it. Remembered the secrets hidden within.

As Avii fiddled with the trinket, the crystals inside the suit started to glow brightly before the armour began to hum. Above him, the roof cracked as another trio of explosions gave way to a cascade of detonations. Reminiscing on ghosts of his past would have to wait because the building was finally coming down.

Slipping the necklace over his head, he quickly glanced at the crystal panel before latching it closed. With a twist of a key and the press of a button, the armour chassis closed around him. As it did, he reached a hand into the massive sleeve, his fingers dancing over the numerous buttons within as he began the routine pre-initialization check.

But then the structure officially collapsed. Flaming beams toppled around him as boxes crashed to the ground. Avii realized he would have to do a thorough check later, and with a kick from his heel he began to charge for the door.

Maldainian MULEs were nothing like Kovik or Estaraian variants. His magical machine was easily two or three times as big as the knock-offs. Piloting a MULE as it was intended was worlds different than a variant generation armour. Movement was effortless. Strength was phenomenal. And with a single punch he blasted through crates as though they were piles of leaves.

The armoury collapsed behind Avii, but it could not catch him. He moved at his full speed, clearing the flames and debris with ease as he erupted out into the courtyard. By the time he slowed his body down to a jog and then a stop, he was already back to the prison bloc.

And as he breathed through the thrill of being back in his armour and the rush of power coursing through his Maldainian veins, he heard him. His sinister voice, calling out for him from beyond the veil of smoke.

“MULE!” Sebastian’s voice echoed from across the courtyard. “MULE! Come out, come out, mule! I have a game to play with you!”

The haze shifted enough for Sebastian’s armoured form to come into view. He stood there, palming Ostave by the back of his head firmly enough to keep his body lifted in the air. And in the other hand, his drawn kukri had been placed to the orc’s neck.

“Come, mule! Or you’ll miss the fun!”