Simulation Part 7: Slaughter Fest

*First Person POV*

I couldn't believe my ears. My brain was able to process what was being said, what the words meant, and that I was currently under attack. However, my mind was off elsewhere. BT, the AI that I had come to get close to over the past weeks, was now gone. And it was all a result of my actions, due to the code I wrote. 

But no, that didn't make sense. I wrote the code but I never mentioned anything that would have to do with Barbatos. Not to mention, that code I wrote was more to optimize everything in the mech, not to rewrite BT's code. In addition to it all, I didn't make any direct edits to BT's AI code other than changing the security parameters to allow me to connect.

"Hey, Jarvis, would you be able to answer just what the fuck is going on with my mech's AI? Why did it all of a sudden get rewritten by this new AI code that I don't remember putting in?" I ask Jarvis in my mind as BT- I mean Barbatos shifted us right while pushing ahead to the marked enemy that was 1700 meters away, allowing another shot to rip past us.

"I could definitely answer it, but whether or not I should is up for debate…."

"...Jarvis, you're a system that is supposed to help me beyond all things. Ignore the fact that I'm in a simulation, this is something, some mistake that I could end up replicating in real life." I say out loud this time before switching back to my mind. "So now, please, for the love of all that's holy, explain to me where the fuck did this Barbatos AI construct come from to replace BT when nowhere in the code were the words Barbatos Lupus Rex, or Barbatos, or Lupus, or Rex were mentioned."

"Ah, the complex symphony of intent and consequence," Jarvis replied with a feeling as though savoring the opportunity to explain. "You're not wrong to be shocked. Your code didn't explicitly reference Barbatos—or so it seems. But here's the truth you might not want to hear: you did create a Barbatos. And you did so intentionally, even if not consciously."

"That doesn't make any sense," I muttered, my head pulling to the right as Barbatos fluidly sidestepped left from the incoming fire. The AI's precision was unnerving— far beyond anything BT had ever achieved. "I didn't write anything about a completely new AI or about Barbatos Lupus Rex."

"No," Jarvis agreed, "not in so many words. But intent has power. The code you wrote, every single line of it, wasn't just crafted to optimize the mech's systems—it was saturated with the thoughts you carried while you worked. Your mind was constantly referencing Barbatos Lupus Rex, wasn't it? Its raw power, its presence, its dominance. You were inspired, whether you realized it or not. And that inspiration didn't just slip into the code—it defined it."

I felt my stomach twist as Jarvis continued.

"Here's what's critical to understand: constructs like Barbatos don't arise from the lazy copy-pasting or surface-level edits that tend to take place in the coding of mechs. No, they're born from the direct and deliberate creation of a single coder, someone who pours themselves into every aspect of the framework. Or, in rare cases, they emerge through the heavy-handed rework of someone who played a significant role in the original architecture. This is why what you've triggered is so rare. It's not just about the code—it's about the coder."

The words Jarvis was speaking hurt my brain, though they did make sense according to the information I had learned, but only in theory. And when I say theory, I mean out of left fucking field, beyond the river, by the sea, young master disdain for no reason left field. "So, what are you trying to say right now—my code killed BT?"

"Not quite," Jarvis replied. "Think of it more like evolution. When an AI like Barbatos is born, it consumes the prior AI—not out of malice, but as a necessary step to grow. It adopts the personality, knowledge, and core functionality of the old AI while surpassing its limitations. Normally, this process takes weeks, allowing the new AI to refine itself unnoticed before revealing its true nature to its creator or its pilot, only if it deems them worthy. But because it's only been a few days since you wrote the code, you're witnessing the overwrite in real-time."

"That... doesn't explain why it's Barbatos," I said, gripping the controls as Barbatos launched into another rapid maneuver. I could feel the AI's focus, sharp and hungry, coursing through every system. 

The changes I had made to the frame's design were holding up beautifully, the dual reactors working with ease allowing more power to be used with every step, propelling us toward the attacking enemy at a constant speed of 110 kmh over the rough terrain. This was a speed that a Tier 2 Reaper or Tier 2 Viper could only hope to achieve while jogging, both topping out their full running speeds on the ground at 90 kmh. 

But that was a different story when it came to facing them in the air. Though not overly fast, seeing something the size of a building fly at speeds of 350-450 kmh while maintaining an immense amount of agility was scary. Let alone in space, where their speed and agility could be fully displayed.

"The AI is Barbatos," Jarvis said, "because that's what you created. The essence of this AI is tied to the thoughts and intentions you poured into the code. It assumes a form and identity that resonates with its creator. And for Barbatos, that creator is you—the one it reveres above all else. To you, it will always reveal its true self. To anyone else, it's simply an upgraded mech AI."

A chill ran down my spine as realization struck. "You're saying... it's alive?"

"I'm saying," Jarvis replied, a hint of admiration in its tone, "that what you've done is create something far more extraordinary than optimization. Barbatos isn't just code or machinery anymore. It's a reflection of your intent, your ambition. Whether that makes it alive is a question only you can answer."

"How is this even possible in a simulation?" I asked out loud once again, frustration lacing my voice. "I get that the Quad Pod's tech is advanced—time dilation, enhanced training efficiency, all that—but it's still a simulation, isn't it? How could I create something like Barbatos in what's supposed to be a controlled, artificial environment? Is it because of the pod's characteristics?"

"Creator, who are you talking to?" Barbatos' human-like voice filled the interior of the cockpit as the mech maintained an alternating zigzagging pattern.

"Not you BT- Barbatos," I say, mistakingly calling out for BT. "Just, just focus on keeping us alive."

"I understand, Creator, I will ensure your survival, I've already determined the enemy's firing patterns. It will be impossible for them to even scratch our paint… or lack thereof, before we reach them." Barbatos replied.

Meanwhile, Jarvis had hesitated to answer my question, an unusual pause that set me on edge considering how it would always reply no matter my situation. It's as if it was measuring its reply. 

"The System Quad Simulator Pod is... an exceptional piece of technology," he began. "Its capabilities stretch far beyond traditional training tools, as I'm sure you've noticed. The 1:100 time dilation alone provides unparalleled depth, allowing users to experience the passage of days or weeks in what is mere hours in the real world."

"Yeah, I know all that," I cut Jarvis off with my thoughts. "But that doesn't explain this. Barbatos isn't just a high-level optimization or some kind of advanced AI training model. It's alive, Jarvis—or damn near close to it. How is that even remotely possible?"

Once again, there was another pause. This time, it felt even heavier. "Perhaps," Jarvis said slowly, "it's because the Quad Pod doesn't simply replicate a pilot's experience in a vacuum. It creates a... resonance between the pilot's intent and the simulation itself. What you bring into the pod—your thoughts, your skills, your aspirations—those things are magnified. They take shape in ways that can be difficult to predict, especially for someone like you."

"Someone like me?" I asked, frowning.

"Yes, Host," Jarvis replied. "Someone who codes with intention. Someone whose mind is unusually attuned to the act of creation, someone who's mind is filled with ideas, especially after having had the boost in intelligence you received from the Creator Himself. You mix that with the reportage of things you've watched, heard, read, researched, and the Quad Pod amplifies that connection. Its systems are designed to make the experience as real as possible, to push the boundaries of immersion. Perhaps in doing so, it allowed your code to manifest in ways even you didn't foresee."

"That's still just a very fucking fancy way of saying 'it's really realistic,'" I pointed out, frustration mounting in my brain. "But even the most realistic sim is just that—a sim. You're doing a real good job of dodging the question."

Jarvis's tone shifted, almost imperceptibly. "Realism, as you understand it, is subjective. The line between simulation and reality becomes... blurred when systems like the Quad Pod are involved. Perhaps the experience feels so authentic because it's designed to mirror reality to such an exacting degree."

I frowned but didn't press the point, assuming his evasiveness was another layer of system protocol. "Fine, so the realism is unparalleled. What about it? Why would the pod's tech allow for something like Barbatos to overwrite BT? It shouldn't matter how real it feels—it's still a controlled environment."

"The Quad Pod is advanced, yes," Jarvis replied. "But even its creators likely don't fully grasp its… capabilities. The depth of immersion it provides isn't just a function of its time dilation or sensory feedback. It's a platform designed to push pilots to their limits—to simulate not only combat but also the pressures, choices, and consequences of real-world scenarios. What you're experiencing now is a direct result of that. Barbatos emerged because your mind and your intent brought it into existence. That's the beauty—and the risk—of a tool like this. It adapts."

I gritted my teeth, shifting my focus back to the growing the map with a marker on my left and then to my HUD as Barbatos shifted us left again and a round whizzed past us. I got a glance of dust picked up in the distance, the enemy Tier 1 Reaper now only 500 meters away from me. 

The Quad Pod's level of immersion was one thing, but Jarvis's cryptic explanations weren't doing much to settle my rambling mind. Still, I couldn't shake the feeling that something about his words didn't quite add up.

"Great," I muttered under my breath. "So I've got the most advanced training tool ever made and an evolving AI I accidentally created. Fantastic."

"Indeed," Jarvis said. "But on the bright side, you're making excellent use of the pod's capabilities. Few pilots would have had the insight—or the boldness—to create what you have."

"Yeah, sure," I said, rolling my eyes as Barbatos closed in on the enemy. "Let's call it a win."

While running, I controlled Barbatos and took out my spear, since my main weaponry had been lost in the rubble and most likely destroyed. As I was doing so, Barbatos came to a sudden stop, face to face with the enemy Reaper who was now a mere 25 meters away from me.

It had lowered its Sniper Rifle Railgun and brought out its curved spear, its tip pointing down to the ground as it attached its railgun to its back.

"Who- no, what are you?" came a man's rough voice through the open comms channel.

"Creator, I'm detecting multiple Tier 1 radar signatures, 15 to be exact, and 2 Tier 2 radar signatures rapidly approaching our location from the North. They are currently a kilometer away behind the buildings in front of us and I estimate their arrival to be within 60 seconds. Our synchronization rate has just reached 197%. The odds are heavily stacked against… them."

As Barbatos said this, I felt a surge of energy course through my back. My vision became much clearer, sharper, I felt the world almost slowing by a fraction as I felt Barbatos and I become one. "I… I am God's Reaper."

I piloted Barbatos with predatory grace, its movements fluid yet filled with a weight that could only be described as monstrous. My hands guided the controls, but in this moment, I felt less like a pilot and more like a force unleashed. The Reaper mech across from me squared its stance, its curved spear glinting menacingly in the low light of the ruined battlefield.

"You dare call yourself God's Reaper? Those fake idols," the man sneered over the comms. "I'll show you why this model bears the name!"

The Reaper lunged forward, a blur of motion, its spear slicing through the air with deadly precision. But I was faster. Far faster. With a flick of the controls, Barbatos sidestepped the strike effortlessly, the spear's tip missing by a mile. Before the enemy could recover, I drove my spear forward in a lightning-fast thrust. The Reaper's shields tried to activate but my spear just split right through them, the force of the blow didn't just stagger the mech—it sent it skidding backward, its armored feet carving deep grooves into the concrete.

"Pathetic," I muttered, feeling Barbatos' pulse with my disdain.

The enemy Reaper tried to regain its footing, raising its spear defensively, but Barbatos was just too powerful. I surged forward, closing the gap in an instant. The curved claws on Barbatos' left hand unfolded with a hiss, gleaming in the dim light. A single swipe cleaved the Reaper's spear in two, the severed pieces clattering to the ground like useless scrap.

"I-impossible!" the pilot shouted, his voice cracking with panic.

But I didn't give him time to think. I struck him again with the spear, hitting the Reaper's torso dead center, shattering layers of armor plating and exposing the vulnerable internal framework. Sparks flew as the enemy mech staggered again and stepped backward, its pilot frantically trying to retreat. Unfortunately for him, I was already on top of him.

With a single motion of the fully extended claws, I drove Barbatos' hand into the Reaper's chest. The sound of metal screeching as if in agony filled the air, the Tier 1 Reaper's cockpit armor crumpling like paper beneath the pressure. I could feel every moment of resistance through Barbatos, every vibration of tearing steel, until the claws pierced through the other side.

"Stop! Please—" the pilot's plea was cut off as I pulled the hand back and ripped the cockpit open entirely. The Reaper mech froze, its systems overloaded and the wires and pieces of metal hanging everywhere being the reason for its loss of power. Its pilot, now exposed to the open air, frantically tried to move what remained of his controls, but it was to no avail as the mech refused to respond.

The incoming radar signals were closer now and I could see the silhouettes of the approaching mechs on reflection of shattered building glass. They were 17 in total, and seeing just how quickly I had done away with the Reaper, this was going to be a slaughter.

With deliberate slowness, I moved Barbatos' clawed hand toward the struggling pilot. He was still strapped into his chair, his face pale and slick with sweat as he stared up at the mech towering over him. I plucked him from the cockpit with almost surgical precision. I could feel his terror radiating through the comms, a soundless scream that, for some reason, made my lips curl into a cold smile.

"What are you? Federation?" I murmured, "or part of the Resistance?"

"F-fe- I'm with the Resistance," the pilot spoke in panic.

"I see, Federation, Resistance, don't really care. But the Resistance has more merit," I say as I feel my smile slowly turn into a smirk. "Don't worry, your brethren will soon join you."

The clawed hand closed with brutal finality. The pilot's body collapsed in on itself, his armor crumpling like wet cardboard under Barbatos' immense strength. Blood and gore spattered the ground as the crushed remains slipped through Barbatos' claws.

The first of the approaching mechs broke through the rubble, weapons raised. Their formation faltered at the sight of what was left of their comrade, no, what was left of the Reaper. I slowly turned Barbatos' head to them, a slow, deliberate motion that radiated disdain and raw power, like a beast toying with its meal.

Without breaking eye contact, I swung the gore-covered hand outward, flinging the remains across the battlefield. The splatter painted the ground before the advancing enemies, their hesitation palpable.

I felt Barbatos adjust its grip on the spear, the weapon humming as it sliced the air in a swift flourish. I then felt the mech crouch slightly, ready to launch into battle as I took count of the enemies in front of me. Two Tier 2 Parallaxes, one Tier 1 Sentinel, three Tier 1 Rakshasas, ten Tier 1 Knights, and one Tier 1 Warlock.

"Come," I said over the open comms channel, voice cold as ice. "Let me send your souls to be judged."

*Third Person POV*

Barbatos surged forward, its spear held low, a lethal instrument of destruction in Aspen's hands. The Tier 1 Warlock fired desperately, but the shots fizzled harmlessly against Barbatos's reinforced armor. It was over in an instant. The spear drove clean through the Warlock's chest and into its cockpit, the mech convulsing as sparks flew from the impaled systems.

Aspen didn't stop there. With a powerful heave, he used the skewered Warlock as a shield, lifting the twitching mech into the air just as the line of Tier 1 Knights unleashed a barrage of fire. Their bullets slammed into the Warlock, tearing into its frame as Barbatos advanced. The Warlock's once-intact structure crumbled under the relentless assault, but it was able to absorb every shot aimed at Barbatos.

The distance between Barbatos and the Knights closed in an instant as Aspen hurled the Warlock's broken frame forward, its mangled remains crashing into two Knights, toppling them like bowling pins. Without missing a beat, Barbatos followed, its spear slicing cleanly through the legs of a third Knight, sending it sprawling to the ground.

Aspen's voice, cold and unwavering, crackled through the comms. "This…. I'm having fun right now."

Barbatos's claws snapped open, glowing faintly as the mech tore into the Knight closest to it. The reinforced energy shield it raised was ripped apart in one savage swipe, the claws plunging straight through the cockpit. Blood sprayed as Barbatos yanked its hand free, pivoting smoothly to meet the next target.

The remaining Knights adjusted their formation, focusing their fire on Barbatos, but it was futile. Aspen guided his mech with pinpoint precision, sidestepping and weaving through the storm of bullets. Barbatos moved like a predator, every motion fluid and deliberate, each step bringing it closer to its prey.

"Ahhhhh, I'm going to fucking kill you!!!" One Knight charged forward in a desperate attempt to stop Barbatos, swinging its alloy sword in a wide arc. Barbatos ducked low, its spear flashing upward to cleave through the Knight's arm and into its torso. The weapon was torn from the enemy's hands as it crumpled, lifeless.

"What the fuck is this thing?"

"How is it moving like that?"

"Just fucking shoot!"

The next three Knights tried to form a firing line, coordinating their shots. Aspen smirked. "Too slow." Barbatos surged forward, its spear spinning in a deadly arc that severed the rifle of one Knight before punching through the chest of another. The third Knight managed to fire a single shot before Barbatos closed the gap, claws slicing through its cockpit with surgical precision.

"H-he just killed them all, as if it was child's play."

"Ju- just who the hell are we dealing with?"

The final two Knights hesitated, their weapons trembling in their hands. Aspen didn't give them a chance to regroup. Barbatos leapt into the air, its claws extended. It landed on one of the Knights, its frame's weight partly crushing the cockpit underfoot, before pivoting and driving its claws into the remaining mech's cockpit, silencing it for good.

"Holy fuck!"

"This bastard is making quick work of us."

"We need backup! RIGHT FUCKING NOW!"

"I'm sending its details back to HQ!"

"These resistance scums are hiring mercenaries!"

Aspen straightened Barbatos, its frame slick with oil and blood, and surveyed the battlefield. The Sentinel and three Rakshasas stood between him and his new targets: the two Tier 2 Parallaxes. He didn't slow down, didn't even acknowledge the defensive mech and its heavy allies. Instead, Barbatos charged straight through them, its claws tearing into the Sentinel's activating shields as it barreled forward. One Rakshasa swung its alloy fist in a wide arc, but Barbatos twisted out of its reach, barely even breaking stride.

The Parallaxes had retreated into the rubble of what was once a tall office building and had barely gotten their sniper rifles ready to shoot. Aspen's focus narrowed as he targeted the first. He hefted the spear, its length dripping with the blood and oil of its previous victims, and hurled it with all the strength Barbatos could muster.

The spear rocketed forward, a streak of steel as the first Parallax's shields flared to life, glowing brightly in a desperate attempt to deflect the attack. But there was nothing it could do.

"Impossi-" The spear punched through the energy field like it wasn't there, its tip slamming into the cockpit and impaling the Parallax. The strength with which the spear was launched pushed the mech backward and tumbling down the little hill of rubble as the light in its optics faded.

Aspen didn't stop to celebrate as he piloted Barbatos toward the second Parallax, leaping into the air in its direction. The Tier 2 Parallax fired its sniper, its high-caliber round streaking toward Barbatos, but in a split second, Aspen twisted his mech mid-air, the shot grazing past and ricocheting off the ground in the direction of the sentinel, striking its shields, dimming them in the process.

"Oh fuck!"

Barbatos landed directly in front of the Parallax, claws ripping into its lightweight frame. The sniper rifle clattered to the ground as the Parallax struggled to escape, but it was too late. Barbatos's claws plunged into the cockpit, tearing through the pilot and severing the mech's connection to its reactor in a single, brutal motion. With a sickening crunch, Aspen pulled Barbatos' hand back, ripping more of metal on its exit than it did its entry.

Aspen stood atop the Parallax's wreckage, his mech turning to face the remaining 4 enemies on the battlefield. Barbatos's claws flexed, dripping with gore and oil, as its reactor flared even brighter, letting out an audible predatory hum. Aspen's low voice cut through the comms like a blade, he didn't even sound tired after having done all those moves.

"So tell me? Are you not entertained?" Barbatos' frame opened its arms, mocking the remaining enemies, its optics glowing with a menacing red hue as Aspen surveyed the battlefield. His eyes fell on the two Tier 2 sniper rifles lying amidst the wreckage, their barrels still intact, and a grin tugged at the corners of his lips.

"Two can play the ranged game," he muttered, guiding Barbatos to snatch up the rifles in each clawed hand. These Tier 2 sniper rifles have a handful of tech in them and the weapons hummed to life, their targeting systems aligning instantly with Barbatos's optics.

The Rakshasas had formed a defensive line, their rifles raised as their shields flared to life. Aspen wasted no time. The first shot rang out, the sniper rifle recoiling in Barbatos's claw. The shield of the Rakshasa directly in his sights lit up, absorbing the impact for a fraction of a second before a second shot followed the first, causing the shield to shatter into a cascade of energy fragments. A third shot followed immediately and then a fourth, punching clean through the now-exposed chest of the Rakshasa. Its massive frame stood still as smoke rose from the hole in the cockpit

The remaining two Rakshasas roared forward, firing their rifles as their heavy frames shook the ground with each step. Aspen backed up and opened fire on the 2 charging Rakshasas and then, shattering their shields before changing his target to the Sentinel. Aspen fired the remaining rounds in the 2 sniper rifles as the shields and armor of the Sentinel proved their reputation, tanking all the shots and remaining operational. 

Aspen then threw aside the Sniper rifles with contemptuous ease and retrieved the spear that was engraved into the Parallax. Once he had the spear in hand, Barbatos' claws flexed as it charged forward into the 2 Rakshasas who were still firing their rifles. Barbatos' frame twisted in inexplicable ways as it dodged and weaved through the bullets, the occasional bullet bouncing off the shields.

Once he closed the distance, the first Rakshasa swung its rifle, aiming to catch Barbatos in the side. However, Aspen sidestepped effortlessly, weaving Barbatos through the lumbering mech's attack like a specter. Before the Rakshasa could recover, Barbatos struck, driving the spear in a brutal, upward thrust. The weapon pierced the Rakshasa's thick chest armor, punching through its shielding, but stopped short of breaching the cockpit. Sparks and hydraulic fluid gushed from the wound as the Rakshasa staggered, trying to dislodge the spear.

Aspen didn't wait. With a sharp motion, Barbatos pivoted toward the second Rakshasa, now within striking range. Barbatos spread its arms wide, claws fully extended as if inviting the mech to its doom. The Rakshasa hesitated for a split second, a fatal mistake on its part.

Barbatos's left claw struck first, slicing cleanly through the thick armor protecting the Rakshasa's cockpit. The blow obliterated the pilot within, leaving the mech to stand eerily still, its systems active but lifeless. 

In the same motion, Aspen raised Barbatos' left leg and kicked the spear further into the Rakshasa. Aspen then pulled the spear free as sparks went flying, the motion tearing the mech's internals.

The Rakshasa groaned as its systems began to fail, its hulking frame collapsing to its knees before toppling over with a thunderous crash. The second Rakshasa, still standing but devoid of any control, remained motionless—a ghost of its former self.

Aspen let out a slow breath, steadying himself as Barbatos straightened. The battlefield fell silent for a moment, save for the faint crackling of ruined mechs and the soft hum of Barbatos's systems. The Sentinel mech, still standing about 100 meters from Aspen, seemed to hesitate, its weapon raised but unmoving as if reconsidering its chances.

Aspen tilted his head, his voice low and mocking as he addressed the lone remaining enemy. "Still here after watching your entire team get slaughtered? You're a brave one."

Barbatos turned to face it, spear at the ready, and began its slow, predatory advance.

The Sentinel opened fire, unleashing a barrage of rounds toward Barbatos. Aspen smirked, easily guiding Barbatos into a continuous dance of evasive maneuvers. The mech's powerful legs carried it in unpredictable arcs, each step precise, each motion calculated. Bullets whizzed by, some close enough to spark against the air but never finding their mark.

"You're really trying," Aspen muttered under his breath, amusement tinging his voice as he rolled Barbatos to the side, avoiding another volley. "But trying doesn't mean much when you're hopelessly outclassed."

The Sentinel, desperate to keep Barbatos at bay, began to backpedal, its aim starting to waver all over the place before the rifle ran out of ammo. Aspen saw his opportunity and surged forward. Barbatos closed the distance with terrifying speed, its spear a silver blur as it slashed upward, severing the Sentinel's rifle cleanly in half. Sparks flew as the weapon's remains clattered to the ground.

The Sentinel staggered, attempting to stabilize, but Aspen directed the spear downward in a brutal thrust, skewering through the hydraulic systems of the mech's right leg. The Sentinel buckled, its movement crippled as one leg gave out beneath it. Aspen danced back, the spear already spinning in Barbatos's grasp before striking again, this time into the left leg. The hydraulic fluid sprayed as the mech dropped to its knees, immobilized.

Aspen paused for a moment, watching as the Sentinel's pilot scrambled to redirect power, trying futilely to find a way to escape.

"Oh no," Aspen murmured with mock pity. "You're not going anywhere."

The Sentinel raised its arms in a feeble attempt to mount a defense, but Aspen was already moving. In two swift, deliberate strikes, Aspen brought the spear down on each arm, severing the hydraulic systems that powered them. The Sentinel's arms dropped limply to its sides, its weapons rendered useless. It was a pathetic sight now—kneeling, defenseless, and at Barbatos's mercy.

Aspen guided Barbatos forward until it stood face-to-face with the defeated mech. He tilted Barbatos's head and yanked the Sentinel's head to look up, Barbatos' glowing optics glaring directly into the Sentinel's. For a moment, silence reigned, broken only by the soft hum of Barbatos's systems and the labored whirring of the Sentinel's failing ones.

Through the open comms channel, the Sentinel's pilot's voice came through, shaky and full of fear. "I don't want to die."

Aspen's smirk deepened. He leaned forward slightly, Barbatos' clawed hands flexing around the spear. His voice was cold and devoid of sympathy. "Yeah, well, tough luck."

He let go of the Sentinel's head and with both of Barbatos's hands gripping the spear, Aspen raised it high above the Sentinel. Then, with devastating force, he brought it down in a single, brutal motion. The spear pierced straight through the Sentinel's cockpit, shattering its armor and tearing through the pilot within.

The Sentinel's systems went dark, the once-imposing mech now a lifeless husk impaled on Barbatos' weapon. Aspen let out a long exhale, pulling the spear free with a sharp motion that sent pieces of the cockpit scattering to the ground as the adrenaline drained from him and he felt the surge of power from earlier seep out of his body.

Word Count: 5090 Words 🫡 🗡️