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Futuristic Valorous Order: Iscariots of Solarian

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SERAFINA PALLAS
CS
LOCATION:
CITY OF AEKYRON, VALERIA
INTERACTION: ISCARIOTS OF SOLARIAN
Serafina Pallas regarded her preys with great impatience. "Here comes the order," her tiny little voice whispered, "any time now." Amidst the monotonous humming and incessantly beeping in the cockpit, her fingers drummed restless beats on the gauntlet’s metal rim. She couldn’t care less for some rats hiding in their rat holes – there were vile beasts in dire need to be crushed by her hands. She flicked her left arm, then without warning she released her grip on the motion controlling gauntlet. The gigantic Ship Slaying Axe crash-landed, dully echoed the dead city.

From afar, she eyed Kalista, their commander.

“Power to main thrusters. Ready to disengage all brakes.”

After giving commands, the girl returned to the common procedure of controlling her breath, and once again was reminded of the method’s ineffectiveness. She felt the need to bare her fang. Then she did. Her patience, or rather the lack thereof, was running thin. A flash on the status screen notified her of the fully charged thrusters. The cooling system had been upped to maximum level. At the same time, mechanized fibers let loose from her mech’s head lit up, shining brazenly like a silver-haired demon had come alive. The machine, red and spiked, was enormous even by mechanized walkers standard. Next to it, an axe as long as the machine’s height had its blade buried into the ground.

While Serafina was absent-mindedly caressing her horns, which were in pink today, commander Kalista’s order came through.

“Loveliest thing I’ve heard all day,” she shrieked. Her excitement spiked to an uncontrollable level. “Buh-bye!!!!”

The moment she released the brakes, Havoc shot forward. She gripped and yanked forcefully her axe off the ground then stormed the nearest beast. Her suit vibrated with the tremors from all thrusters at maximum output. The entire machine merged with her thirst for first blood.

The thing was armored, she noticed. And what a useless piece of information it was. No matter, it is close!

Seeing her come, the beast pointed its puny little barrels her ways. Seconds before impact, pellets rapped on her torso. Matter not! Matter not!

The axeblade’s velocity was halted but briefly upon contact with the metal plates. Then it sank in, as smoothly and gorily as into a bloody buttered bread.

Her laugh, her shriek, her pure enthusiasm resounded merrily on the open channel.

 
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Esdras Del'Taban
CS
LOCATION:
CITY OF AEKYRON, VALERIA
INTERACTION: ISCARIOTS OF SOLARIAN

Esdras gripped tightly on his mechanized assault walker's controls, his adrenaline still alive and his heart beating quickly. He stood amongst the corpses of abominations. Stegosaurian masses of flesh and machine, to call it a disgrace of life would be an understatement, they were nothing more than monsters and beasts to be destroyed. The soft touch of his silk shirt calmed his nerves as he steadied himself. Aggression was the downfall of man and he had no intentions of being felled yet. Before he could truly calm himself, a beast of odd proportions charged at him, its bipedal position leaned forward touting claws of enormous size. The former noble scanned the creature, searching for adequate points to attack and where best he could efficiently dispatch it.

Themis' wings roared with power as they propelled the assault walker forward with tremendous speed. Esdras matched that roar with one of his own as he maneuvered the machine under the abomination's slicing claws and veered his sword straight across its waist. The creature, now split in twain, laid as nothing more than an additional corpse to the ever-growing pile. Yet, it still lived. The thing wailed in agony, its upper body attempting its best at crawling away and its lower half still twitching from its abrupt disconnection. How crude, Esdras thought before thrusting his sword into its back, allowing it a proper death. The kill was hardly honorable but honor meant nothing to creatures of no will.

Esdras, having dispatched his opponent, surveyed the area once again. The sounds of heavy ordinance still rang across the ruined buildings of the capital yet muffled by Themis' internal sound system. By the time he had concluded that no enemies were in his zone, he received the order from Kalista to search for the killer of the Valerian CIA. Esdras didn't much favor Kalista, the busty woman was a former agent for the Order of Eden and though she had renounced her ways, he could not say that she was absolutely in his goodwill. Find the assassin, that he could do but committing to the blissful ignorance of the citizens, that he could not.

The advanced mechanized assault walker stood parked in an alleyway beside the building, his cockpit having ample room to eject without destroying anything nearby. Esdras opened various compartments from within Themis, acquiring his rifle and pistol. He unbuttoned his suit jacket, leaving it neatly folded on the seat, declaring that he would hate to see it ruined.

Ejecting from Themis, Esdras made sure to note its location and that it was properly secured. He could not guarantee it would not be damaged in the nearby fights but considering its generation and the machinery within, it would be a pain to repair. "This could be the last time I see you, Themis." Esdras spoke softly, caressing the side of the walker's leg. "Worry not father, I'll make you proud." With that, he departed and entered the building.

Almost immediately his training in the military academy kicked in. His eyes surfed across the building's foyer and lobby, and his rifle was gripped tightly, disregarding any trigger discipline he had. "I've entered the building," Esdras spoke aloud over his telecom. "I am gonna be going from the ground floor to the top."

Closing his comms, he reflected on Kalista's orders. It may have mattered not to the commander the lives of the people of Valeria but to him, they were as worthy of living and being protected as any other being. Esdras would ensure their protection no matter the cost.

 
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KAGERO AZUKI
CS
LOCATION:
CITY OF AEKYRON, VALERIA
INTERACTION: ISCARIOTS OF SOLARIAN


It should have been a peaceful, quiet day, here in Valeria.
There should have been people shopping, working, and going about their day in peace.
However, today, the streets lay empty, far from quiet,
and far from peaceful.
The cacophony of noises that echoed down the street; distant wails of sirens and cries of helpless civilians, bursts of gunfire and unnatural, synthetic barks, howls and roars,
and the stomping of the Iscariot mercenaries, marching down the street in their great and terrible warmachines.
A beastly monstrosity burst out from the alley to their side, a horrid, unnatural fusion of creature and machine that scrambled about on four legs, diving into the collected assortment of Empyrian MAWs, snarling, and hungry to snap it's steel teeth into their shells, and glut it's hunger on the soft, furtive meat that lay within, only to be sent flying back with a lethal rain of high-velocity gunfire, slamming sickeningly through a flimsy concrete wall, and coming to it's final rest, sliding through the front of a nearby store.
Kagero flicked her cigarette to the other side of her mouth in response to the creature's demise, apathetically blowing out a puff of smoke as she lowered her right control stick, returning the machine's still smoking autocannon back to it's natural position.

With that obstacle taken care of, and none other pinging on her radar, she was free to break from formation, and circle around the imposing skyscraper through the farthest alleyway.
At her command, a holographic display of the building appeared before her; a nice, big casino on the lower floors, and several offices stacked on top.
Plenty of places for an Anarcharon to hide out in.
A picture of their target appeared in the corner, a pitifully small block of information scrolling out beneath her; a white-haired, red-horned female demonoid(?), responsible for the assassinations of several Valerian assassinations, and a big enough nuisance to get a spot on Empyria's most wanted.
Evidently, she was last seen within these very halls, plugging some poor Valerian whistleblower.
Figured that Kagero would get stuck with the more 'complicated' job; trying to drag an elusive, hiding rat out from it's burrow, as opposed to simply putting down a few oversized, rabid dogs.
Then again, unmuting Serafina's mic channel for a second or two was a nice, compelling argument for why they would be better off not putting her on rat hunting duty, especially not in a buidling full of civilians.

After pulling the gear shift at her side, her MAW's digitigrade legs slowly begin to fold in on themselves, like a bird roosting in a nest, lowering the machine's body gently down until it looked less like a mech, and more like some bizarre form of tank, equipped with a pair of large, ill-fitting arms.
With the press of a few buttons, the various screens before her one-by-one flicker to black, all except for the center screen, which projected her surrounding through the machine's main camera, and the radar display, which worryingly still pinged several signs of movement coming from within the building.
She took one last, long drag on her cigarette, letting it burn down to the nub, and then letting all of the tension built up within her go in a billowing plume of smoke.
"Blue Fog, reporting," she broadcasted plainly over telecom, rubbing the still smoldering remains of the spent nub out on a nearby, loosely installed ashtray.
"Parked at South entrance, motion tracker's up and recording. If the mark manages to slip through, we'll see her, and chase her down from there."

A few more button presses and the hatch around her begins to open with a sharp pneumatic hiss. Pressurized steam, and free-flowing cigarette smoke seeping out from within the machine as the outer hull slowly slides down, harsh morning sunlight and fresh air quickly flooding in to take their place.
Before her, a series of large, stately doors of reinforced plexiglass, framed in lavish gold beams, and surrounded by a swarm of disheveled flyers, banners and friendly-looking advertisements, promoting the various games of chance, and businesses that had once taken place within.
"That's all gone, now..." a solemn thought chips in, "No one's coming back, knowing what happened here."
From a small compartment hidden beneath her seat, Kagero draws her trusty firearm; a standard issue semiautomatic Volterra LARE handgun, already fully loaded, and with several more clips already loaded into the pockets of her jacket.
Jumping down from her cockpit, her boots land upon the pavement with a solid thunk, the hatch quickly sealing shut behind her.
With her free hand, she unsheathes the long, single-edged reaxis shortblade strapped to her boot, before rushing forward, quickly pressing her body against the smooth, granite column next to the door.
She takes one last deep breath to steel herself. Safeties disabled, her knife, held firmly in a reverse grip in her left hand, folded beneath her right wrist, supporting her aim.
Time to get to work.

"Moving in," she broadcasts again, advancing cautiously towards the front door with her gun trained steadily ahead.
She couldn't see anything moving behind the glare reflecting off of the glass doors, and her MAW's radar hadn't picked up any suspicious signals anywhere nearby,
but years of experience, and her own natural instincts warned her to be prepared for anything.
Pressing herself against the door's hinge, her gun raised and at the ready, Kagero slowly pushed the door ajar, sliding her way through the narrow crack.
Once on the other side, she instantly snapped back into a firing stance, her eyes scanning her surroundings, her gun pointed forward, ready to fire at a moment's notice.



 
JAIDEN THALFORN
CS
LOCATION:
CITY OF AEKYRON, VALERIA
INTERACTION: ISCARIOTS OF SOLARIAN

Jaiden watched as Artemis's signal moved out, stretching further away from her than any other signal on the navigation panel that hung off to the side. With a click of her tongue, she readjusted her grip on the joysticks. Minerva moved forward when directed, trotting heavily down the empty street, and was brought to a stop only when Jaiden was certain her weapons' maximum range accounted for the exploration that Artemis would undertake. Admittedly, the sudden appearance of a snarling brute certainly gave her just as a good a reason to abandon her attempt to reposition herself. With a practiced and professional ease, her left hand fell away from her primary joystick, resting down upon a smaller, thinner, stick that was just directly below it.

Minerva's tail snapped forth with a serpentine ferocity, coiling around the beast's metal leg as it lunged forward, its artificial eyes glinting with a madness that only the efforts of machine and men combined could have given it. With a sharp push from the heel of her palm, the tail followed through, and flung the beast from its intended path, leaving it to drop down unceremoniously and suffer under the weight and damages done on its unnatural body. There wasn't a chance that it'd ever find a way back onto its feet again, but Minerva still delivered the death sentence with an explosive-round-tipped arrow, leaving nothing but a small dent in the road and ruined bits of flesh and metal being flung away from the blast zone.

The overkill should have given her a rush, should have raised her spirits and fill her with an eager giddiness, and yet Jaiden found herself just as agitated as she had been for the last five days since they had set foot in Valeria. She would never throw a fit or say a word to her employer or field commander, but when the orders came down, Jaiden had since then been burdened with a horrible tension in her shoulders, anxiously anticipating and hating every little complication or surprise that had been brought to the forefront. She was a simple woman who was happily employed to do simple things, so the complications that came with vague blanket orders ('handle the internal affairs') were not at all welcome.

When the comms crackled on, and the call to arms came from Kalista, Jaiden let out a audible exhale, and felt that the simple task of breathing was somehow less burdensome at that moment. Hell, she even barked a laugh, and her tail swung merrily, as she watched Havoc's signal jet itself at breakneck speeds to where Artemis was, evidently more than ready to dole out a mighty beat down. This battle's first blood was certainly already drawn, but the first shot would be Jaiden's, and why stop at just one shot?

An arrow dropped itself from Minerva's arm compartment, and it slid neatly into the slot of the overly large bow. Whatever motors, circuits or electromagnetic technology laid within the weapon began to hum as Minerva bridged a connection with the weapon, allowing access to manipulate certain details. Before Jaiden did anything though, she tapped into the comms channel twice, quietly declaring her presence, before speaking, just as the Serafina's last cackles faded, "J here, hitting their shields in 4," she warned pleasantly, before turning to reach an arm out and tap at her navigation panel.

Anyone assigned to converge to Artemis - Kalista - would be able to see a circular area marked in red on their maps, denoting the area Jaiden planned to bomb. Working quickly, Jaiden's hand slipped over to the slider that laid on her armrest and pulled it down just the slightest. The largest screen in her cockpit adjusted to this change, showing a minor drop in her shields, and a extra bit of juice being sent to the bow in Minerva's hands; ensuring that the shot would fly fast enough to make it under the promised countdown of 4 seconds.

Once distance and targets had both been locked in, Jaiden let out a quiet, private little "pew," as she pressed down on the worn green button on her primary joystick, and Minerva let the strung arrow fly out from the bow, circuits and rails sizzling, as the lone arrow tore through the long distance, flying beyond where the front lines were swinging around.

As usual, the arrow would never quite manage to hit the ground. Instead, the cluster bomb-tipped arrow detonated itself in midair, only just before it hit the ground, starting a chain of smaller detonations that had been packed into the bomb-tip. It wasn't anything that was going to topple buildings or even level the roads, but the pack of brutes, and anyone unlucky to have wandered over to where Jaiden had indicated her area of influence on the screens, was going to be unpleasantly bombarded with blast impacts, and their shields would undoubtedly suffer under the unforgiving series of blasts. Only Jaiden's comrades and the brutes they were engaged with at the forefront - and a few brutes that made up the midranks - of the skirmish would be left unscathed.

 
CIADA MREVM
CS
LOCATION:
CITY OF AEKYRON, VALERIA
INTERACTION: ISCARIOTS OF SOLARIAN
Ciada stretched his neck as their captain sprouted off commands, wincing at the resulting crack. He needed to remember to stretch more when on the job... that was a problem of his.

Drawing him from his thoughts, Jupiter was thankfully called to fight the brute-monster-things. Over the years different people had assigned him to different roles, but he always did best in frontal assaults. It did also help that Ciada rebelled when he wasn't a part of the bash n' slash group.

A sudden flurry of movement had him belatedly move forward, realizing the battle had started without him. He pointed his feet straight down and ran Jupiter forward like he was walking on his tiptoes. The exoskeleton rig that he was situated in was perfect for activating different mechanical parts without the need for voice commands, such as activating thrusters in Jupiter's legs. His next two steps brought him close to the monsters, before a third leap, aided by said thrusters, sent him on a trajectory course straight for one of their faces.

It was then that Ciada activated his magic. An outside observer would see his eyes contract to glowing white pinpoints before moving so incredibly fast that they were almost invisible, a white blur against hazel irises, along with his blood vessels turning bright red. It was one of the only magical abilities that the Nyxian had, allowing him to take a good long look at anything he wanted. In a mech, that meant he could react to anything. It also meant he could spend hours of his perceived time staring at the crowd of beasts, absorbing every little detail. If he wanted to, of course, which he did not. All he wanted was a few seconds to take a look at the creature that Jupiter was about to land on.

Ciada took in all of its grotesque features in perfect clarity. It seemed to be a gigantic cyborg tortoise-thing, with built-in guns and armor. The eyes of the one he faced were locked onto him, filled with rage and anger. It was the glare of an animal gone berserk, a shark whipped into a blood frenzy. It craved blood and destruction. Ciada sympathized with it somewhat. He, too, was lost, seeking battle to feel alive. Craving darkness to lift him out of monotony. But he did have a job to do, and it wasn't like he wouldn't have a blast crushing its skull underneath Jupiter's foot, like a shoe coming down on a snail’s shell.

The barrels of its gun aligned on his mech just a bit too late. Jupiter landed on the oversized turtle's face, smashing its skull into a million bits with a satisfying crunch as fifty tons of metal drove it into the ground. Ciada sighed in contentment at the sound, relishing the feeling of bone fracturing and breaking, before sparks began flying into his vision. Bullets hitting metal. He launched himself into the perpetrator, activating his laser pointer with a quick squeeze of his hand, leaving the metal shell melted in half and sending the wonderful smell of vaporized flesh to waft into the air. Hmm. That would actually be quite a hilarious candle name.

A third victim dodged his next attack, a full-on body slam, and began firing its guns, grappling with him in a feeble attempt to subdue his weapons. Pitiful. It failed in penetrating Jupiter's armor and subduing him. This unfortunate creature needed to be taught a fucking lesson. That lesson being a battering ram taser sending three hundred amps into the incompetent beast, seizing its heart in an instant in excruciating pain. The brief screech before it fell dead was great, but Ciada snarled at the corpse of the turtle-thing in anger. The moment was empty. Unearned. This was too easy.

Someone said something in his ear, and he irritably muttered into his microphone, "Disable comms."

Explosions popped up further into the horde; one of those cowardly Iscariots with long-range weapons had clearly used a grenade launcher or something of the sort, depending on the frontline fighters to take the brunt of the damage. Well, maybe he was fine with that. He barreled past the next enemy before him, and the next, and the next, stopping only when the brutes surrounded him completely. Later Ciada could simply say he was causing disorder among the enemy and brush it off, but there was another motivation. Fighting one at a time was boring.

He readied Jupiter's taserhand, grinning. His adrenaline began surging through his veins. Ciada had been waiting for a challenge. The feeling of facing a life-and-death situation was exhilarating. Newly energized, he charged, shouting out a battle cry.


 
MELA SERETSKYOVA
CS
LOCATION:
CITY OF AEKYRON, VALERIA
INTERACTION: ISCARIOTS OF SOLARIAN
The picture before her was one that, even before her time in the Iscariots, Mela was not entirely unaccustomed with. Streets left empty, belongings scattered on the side of the road, jewelry, notes, and hints at life trampled underfoot: such was an essential part of any cityscape for her. Sitting above it all, she shuffled in the cockpit of Ares, tweaking her mic and tapping out an inaudible rhythm on the panels in front of her.

As they turned onto the gruesome cast of beasts, something similar to impatience alit within Mela's eyes. Here, metal jutted out from flesh, and there, flesh sat mangled and bleeding. The horrors were common and ordinary. She only felt the slight ticking of a clock inside her, each passing second demarcated by her inaction: her hands performed ghostly actions on ghostly levers and buttons as she awaited her commands, already seeing the flaying and searing ahead in her mind's eye.

When the first round of commands was given, her name left silent from the group of hunters, she settled back into her seat with a heavy breath. Her feet planted themselves firmly against the ground, her bones already trembling with phantom motions of battles past and future. When her name was called—as part of the offensive forces, as she had expected—her fingertips crackled with whiplike energy.

The next series of events happened at a startlingly fast rate:

Houndlike laughs resounded across the comms. Sera. Mela grabbed a lever, resisting the urge to jump out of her seat. Two mechs bit off from the formation, leaving them ever more exposed. Esdras, Kagero. She halted Ares forwards, the arms spurring to life with a dull mechanical purr. Red flashed across her screen and then past it. Flame erupted in the distance. Jaiden? A dull thud echoed and Ares stuttered backwards. Wait—

Mela's hands leapt to life before her brain could catch up. The arm reached out, the blade glinted, Mela's eyes saw the reflection of past gore carefully polished away. The monster grasping at Ares' leg leaped away as the blade swung down, Mela desperately wrangling the control back up to stop the blade from crashing full-force into the concrete. Her eyes spun around in their sockets. How could a thing so heavy move that fast?

Another jolt shook Ares, this time harder. Mela's stomach churned. Her body slammed against the other side of the cockpit, hands flaring out before her to brace herself against the hard metal. It had returned from the other side, jumping at the mech in an attempt to topple it. If it was coming from the front, it would be nothing, nothing at all, but from the side, its bid actually had a chance.

She stumbled back haphazardly into the chair. Her palms slid against the joystick, a glistening sheen of sweat against its scratched surface. Slowly, haltingly, fucking painfully, the mech turned, stumbled, reared itself to face the vile assembly of sinew before her. Fingers glancing against one of the boards, Ares' rifles spurred and choked, twin shots deploying from each and slamming uselessly into the ground below. Crack, asphalt flew. Another jerk of a joystick and a gun flew down, its barrel smashing into the beast. Crunch, metal folded and crumpled. The thing fell aside. She took a breath, black crawling at the edges of her vision.

The sea before her was both dead and alive. As adrenaline spiraled her thoughts into ecstasy, she saw the duality of everything at once—how it was and how she would make it—and took in a pant as the next came to her. Another fell into Ares' maw, gleaned instantly. She transported her vision into reality. What was alive she made dead, what was dead she discarded as the useless impediment it was. Ares stayed statuesquely still throughout, the isolated movement of the blades dealing with the riffraff without need for much else.

She tasted copper in her mouth and realized she'd been biting her tongue.
 
TRISTAN SALVORATH
CS
LOCATION:
CITY OF AEKYRON, VALERIA
INTERACTION: ISCARIOTS OF SOLARIAN
As long as he had allowed himself to be mesmerized by the stars of Valeria's evening sky, Tristian found himself relaxed in his Ascalon's cockpit like the slacker he was, a reputation associated with his everchanging mood to let the other Iscariots do the heavy lifting. As expected, the red-haired Exhelian had already activated auto-pilot, treating himself with Empyria's finest vintage instrumentalists, and casually examined the battlefield below him, as if his purpose of existence here today was to simply, observe and allow the others to use their energy for his sake.

Not that he wanted to be known as the group's slacker, but for a mission where slaughtering the same beasts over and over again was his underlying duty in almost every operation, Tristan found himself often immensely bored with the tasks given to him by the squad leader.

"Damn it."

Tristan thought to himself.

"I shouldn't have signed that ludicrous contract."

According to the contract that Tristan had signed with the Kurian Enterprise, in exchange for his usage of the 4th generation Ascalon, 25 years of consistent combat data was the general priority amongst all, even though for the most part, he had allowed auto-piloting to do most of the ranged combat. Why would he move a muscle when the damn walking nightmare had a thousand times better accuracy than him? And the fact that flight had made this steeled beast nigh-invulnerable, was another factor of his never-ending boredom.

But who was he kidding? He could've easily disabled auto-pilot and joined the squad for some melee action. The truth was, he was just lazy down to the bone.

A quarter of an hour had passed since his presence on the battlefield below him, and any events of interesting anomalies were nowhere to be found, unfortunately. Most of the Iscariots found themselves eviscerating the mechanized beasts with ease, their cutting edge technological blades slicing through their poor modifications like a flaming sword, though such was expected. He at least entertained with the diversity of the squad, occasionally intruding the coms with sarcastic remarks of his own.

Though even Tristan knew that things wouldn't be this simple. When has it been, whenever the Order of Eden was nearby with their guns ready to defy friendly fire? It had happened once already, and it was going to happen again as long as there's the rivalry between their squad commander and his own.

They were late. Hades' advanced foreign detection system had notified Tristan about the incoming batch of ally Ascalons, all armed with weapons only the Order of Eden could afford and use as if they haven't already ignored the Aeterna Imperium in every way possible.

"An update just for you, Artemis. Your past girlfriend's coming to get her revenge and she's not fucking around this time. You've seen an Imperator Ascalon before, haven't you? I'd suggest we back out, buuuuut..." Tristan chuckled, placing his fingers on the controls before him, disabling auto-pilot to indicate that he was more than prepared to race with the Deathclaws. "I have some scores to settle with their operators. Besides, I could probably gather some interesting combat data by clashing with some of their Deathclaws."

Tristan stylishly landed his Hades next to the Minerva, supporting her vulnerable spots by slashing through the beasts that were swarming her from behind with an energy broadsword, brimming in crimson. "We only have three 4th gens compared to their Deathclaws, so... Let's try and not get too hostile with them. They're probably here to take credit for Novacaeli's capture, and if my experience with working with the Order of Eden can be applied here, I'd say that they've already sent their Archangels to infiltrate the building. Hestia, Deadeye, Blue Fog, Themis — I'd recommend staying alert about the Archangels' presence."

It wasn't like for Tristan to assist with orders, but the adrenaline rush had made him far more excited than he would ever allow showing.

As the minutes passed and more beasts fell with their limbs severed, the first batch of Deathclaws could be seen from the dark horizons.

 
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GM EVENT POST
The Order of Eden's Blitzkrieg Deathclaw Assault Division ( BDAD ) has appeared on the battlefield.

All OoE characters from the archives are present. Their reasoning for interfering in the Iscariot's operation is unknown, for now.

The Imperator Ascalon Satan is on the field (left image). The rough estimate of its size is nearly 19x larger than that of the average Ascalon.

Note: The Satan has a miniature Ascalon that is kept safe inside the mech. The image of the mech can be found here:
Imperator Ascalon Satan - Knight Armor

A total of 3 Archangel operatives will infiltrate the skyscraper approximately 5 minutes after Tristan's initial warning.

 
RAIDRIAR ASHER
CS
LOCATION:
CITY OF AEKYRON, VALERIA
INTERACTION: ISCARIOTS OF SOLARIAN & ORDER OF EDEN
"All units, prepare for Phase One."

The Blitzkrieg Deathclaws follow one rule: to utterly annihilate the enemy with the thunderous force of their Ascalons. The enemy's weapons and gears did not matter. Once they are recognized as hostile forces by the Order of Eden's HQ, their purpose in the battlefield becomes clear, and defeat is an option only for those who show pity for the enemies.

Phase One was a simplified phase exclusively used by Deathclaw squadron commanders. The development stage of the battle, where the Deathclaws get into their positions to perform the most brutal offensive possible for their gear. Only when all weapons are greenlighted for combat, did the commander issue Phase Two.

"Authorizing approval for level 3 armaments. All units, execute into Phase Two."

The second phase initiated the pilots to begin firing their ranged artilleries and guns, to mow down the hostile with anti-armor ammunition crafted by Empyria's finest materials. The Deathclaws formed the infamous V-shaped formation, with Raidriar's Imperator Ascalon floating above the rest of the squad. In the center leading the formation was the Ascalon Belobog, piloted by Howard Zerstoiten, an operator whom Raidriar trusts to lead the charge.

The others would be positioned either on the right or left, keeping the V-shaped formation stable until the next phase. The beasts that had escaped from the Iscariots' wrath had become a victim to the Deathclaws' sheer brutality, being pierced by thousands of armor-piercing bullets as their organs exploded from the heavy impact.

It was a blood bath, fitting for the Blitzkrieg Deathclaw Assault Division's vicious reputation. As the operation began to show promise for another successful victory, Raidriar smirked and scanned the fields, detecting multiple Empyrian Ascalons just a few hundred meters away from her squadron's position.

"Deathclaws..." Raidriar smiled, "Your required permission to enter Phase Three... has been granted."

Allowing the others to break formation and perform their duties individually, Raidriar ejected her controls from the Satan's main frame and activated the Knight Armor, blasting its thrusters as the Satan's ejection system complied with its pilot's control. The Satan remained immobile in the air, its auto-pilot mode automatically using its heavy artillery to snipe the beasts below with the series of railguns mounted on its frame.

Instead of using main frame of the Imperator Ascalon, Raidriar was now flying above in the air with her Knight Armor Satan, soaring through the dark skies and directly moving towards the Iscariots, its weapons prepared for battle and all devices ready to support the pilot.

Raidriar wanted Kalista's head for herself, and it was obvious.

Worthlessplebian Worthlessplebian (Howard)⠀ Arai Arai (Amalia)⠀ Elenion Aura Elenion Aura (Se-Yoon)⠀ Vahn Vahn (Victor)⠀ Midrick Midrick (Alejandro)⠀ Meryl_ya Meryl_ya (N/A)
 
HOWARD ZERSTOITEN
CS
LOCATION:
CITY OF AEKYRON, VALERIA
INTERACTION: Order of Eden

35 MINUTES BEFORE THE MISSION START

Belobog's pilot, Howard Zerstoiten, sat on a benchlike structure near his Ascalon. Holding his helmet between the thumb and fingers on his right hand. His left hand trailed the protective gear, even lazily twisting and turning the two cartridges meant to trap toxic air. His reflection in the opaque/one-way styled visor fed into a recent loop of events that he repeated in his head. It was the medical examination that he underwent monthly. The Doctor praised Zerstoiten for following the strict regiment, even going so far as to note the improvement of his physicality. Though the Doctor also told Zerstoiten precautionary words. Recommending mentally stimulating activities and a hobby or two.

Zerstoiten could only sigh; he thinks the Doctor is wrong for his concern. Zerstoiten was old even, older than his commanding officer. But that doesn't mean his combat fitness is to be questioned. Then again, it does not entirely bother him. They are right to be cautious or suspicious. Reaching in with a gloved hand into a side pocket, Zerstoiten pulled out a picture of his youth. Ah, nostalgia. It's nice to remember sometimes, even when you live in such a miserable world.

Pocketing the picture, Zerstoiten stood up, rejuvenated by the past. Slipping on his helmet, the suit's automatic systems synchronized with the protective gear. Zerstoiten looked up at the White Ghoul and was prepared for deployment.

MISSION; PHASE THREE:

Belobog leads his fellow Deathclaws in their infamous V-shape formation, following the Commander's orders. They had executed the two phases of their three-phase assault. Belobog's self-controlled systems doing most of the work in terms of accuracy. For now, anyway. The unfurled wings of Belobog radiated a type of magnanimous energy. White in colour, with black streaks along the edges. Belobog's Y-shaped visor scanned the surface, the crimson colouration threatening to skewer any opposition.

Then... Phase Three Permission was bestowed upon them, allowing them to break off from the formation and continue extermination however they pleased.

Before anybody broke off, Zerstoiten wished to share some words with his Deathclaws. "Alright, boys and girls; you know the drill. It's kill or be killed. Preferably kill, since this old man wants to see your faces back at base; don't disappoint me now~" Zerstoiten told them with an upbeat tone. Howard suddenly switched off the auto-pilot, grabbing the controls. The wings turned upwards to absorb the airflow, descending.

Black soles and a white knuckle kicked up a blanket of dust, shook any debris or vehicles, and cracked the street. The agile, horned machine with the snow-white pigmentation rose from its landing. A monster, larger than the adjacent buildings, lumbered in front of Belobog's path. A horrific being of circuitry and flesh bound together at the cellular level. Two heads looked at him at an odd angle, encumbered by their unfortunate design. Belobog's arm reached for its' SMG but stopped as Zerstoiten decided his melee weapon to be the fitting tool for this.

Belobog grabbed the handle of the massive sword. Magnetic sockets, expertly tuned to carry the ALZE-Type 22, stopped working and released the sword from their grip. Grabbing the sword with two hands, Belobog raised it into the sky and pointed at the enemy. One hand gripped under the guard, while the other is closer to the pummel. For a moment, the creature recoiled as if a survival instinct told it to flee. Its' fear soon turned to anger, as whatever shred of intelligence told it that swinging that sword would be impossible. A bright glow began to run up the monster skin, with electricity bouncing from metal parts. Then from its' twin mouths fired a gigantic bolt of electric might. Crackling as it shaved through the air. Belobog pointed the sword downward sharply and plunged it into the street. The bolt met the metallic sword, acting as a grounding rod. The attack was neutralized by the grounding. The creature felt the same innate sense of dread as before. Watching the metal man pull out his sword from the ground; staring at it with its' red, angry eyes.

The creature ultimately realized its' folly when the Ascalon began to charge at it, swinging its' big stick in an arcing motion.

Zerstoiten practised this routine for enclosed spaces. Using the momentum of the heavy sword to execute elegant swings that moved in a circular motion. The creature tried to fend off the strikes with its' tiny claws but found itself disarmed after meeting the trajectory of the sword. Then Belobog pulled back and thrust, skewering the creature's heart before pulling out and lifting the sword. Belobog moved its' hand below the guard above it. Gripping the area between the parrying hooks and the guard. Then it crashed down in a rowing motion, hooking the creature's half-alive body. Chunks of electrical components flew along with tissue flew backwards behind Belobog.

He would move onto another target.

 
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Esdras Del'Taban
CS
LOCATION:
CITY OF AEKYRON, VALERIA
INTERACTION: ISCARIOTS OF SOLARIAN

Esdras moved with care throughout the lower floors of the skyscraper, his steps concise and his actions deliberate. The former noble looked upon the golden and gilded tables scattered about both haphazardly and uniform, though deserted, he imagined the bustle of people eager to try their luck and have a chance at winning a fortune. He envisioned people lining up, looking upon either those who would be their enemies or those who had failed before them. They had learned from the mistakes of the past; deciphered ways to crack the system and give the favor to them, and yet though they might have made a small sum of currency in the brief time they were there, they ultimately lost because no matter the circumstances nor situation: the House always wins.

Moving up a floor, Esdras repeated his normal scouting routine that was typical of a military academy graduate. He checked every row of machinery, peeking around each box filled to the brim with outsourced greed and the currency that supplements it. The slot machines roared to life as he passed them, dazzling picts of common folk gaining wealth and riches beyond their wildest dreams. The floor was rife with past temptations and resistance; sorrow and pride; fear and confidence. It smelled like his father.

Outside of the monolithic building, he could hear the sounds of heavy ordnance raining down. Esdras stopped briefly outside one of the cracked, blood-splattered windows. Peering out, he saw it. An Ascalon so large it filled the sky. Esdras knew his titanic mechanized walker as the most essential component to the Order of Eden. He only had knowledge of it from his parent's past experiences with the mechanized titan. Imperator Ascalon Satan was the pride of Empyria and a testament to their power, the mere fact it could even be assembled was a feat that proved its power. Despite his body being filled with fear, in the depths of his heart, he was disgusted by the hulking mass of metal. It may have been the pride of the nation but it also represented the deaths of many, whether they be enemies of Empyria or not. What a gross creation, he thought before continuing his search for the assassin.

Another elevator, another floor. Before he could even exit, a man wearing a nice but wrinkled suit approached Esdras in distress. His hair was combed to the side with heavy amounts of gel, and he smelled of high-class yet dreadful cologne. Yet again, Esdras drew parallels with this man and his own father.
"Please you must help me!" The suited man's voice was disgustingly aristocratic; high-pitched with no backing behind it.
Esdras raised his rifle quickly, his finger placed readily on the trigger. "State your name and occupation," the former noble commanded. It wasn't a formality, no matter what the noble would say, he'd let him go lest he give any inclination to being against his safety.
"I am Denari Van Saar and I work for the Van Saar corporation! Please, mister, I need to find my wife!" He pleaded out, looking about the room in fear of the unknown.
Esdras tilted his head, lowering his ballistic rifle. "Where is she?"
"In the upper floors! She worked here as an accountant." The man paused briefly, appearing to be in consideration of some odd thought.
"What does she look like?" Esdras asked perplexed.
"White hair, shorter than me, petite if anything. I can't accompany you but please!"
Esdras didn't even have to think any longer on the request, he'd have to fulfill this even if it meant his life. "Alright, enter this elevator and head immediately down to the ground floor or lower if you must, it is not safe for you outside." The military graduate exited the elevator to allow him entrance.
The suited man entered in the moving transport, thanking Esdras before letting the doors close and for his escape from the hell he witnessed to begin.

A sense of purpose and determination washed over Esdras, he'd have to find this woman and bring her to safety, it'd be the right thing to do. The problem was, he could not declare his intentions amongst his colleagues. Kalista herself said civilians were of no worry and thus, Esdras would likely be scolded and reprimanded for his decision to put his own existence after the life of a single woman whom he knew not. It has already been decided, Esdras thought.

 
JAIDEN THALFORN
CS
LOCATION:
CITY OF AEKYRON, VALERIA
INTERACTION: ISCARIOTS OF SOLARIAN

Jaiden had shot off 2 more cluster bomb tipped arrows before she switched them out for regular explosives. With the rest of the team coming in swinging and firing, not only would it be dangerous to keep using such heavy fire, but it would actively hinder the team if she kept isolating certain areas of the battlefield for herself. At the end of the day, a motivated Ciada or happy Serafina was just as destructive and effective as a bomb anyway.

While many of the beasts found themselves tangling with the Iscariots in the front, there were others that broke from the ranks, circling around for another angle or another objective, and oddly enough a few had even found their way over to where Minerva was, far from the epicenter of the battle. Briefly, the young woman wondered if the beasts were capable of carrying out any unique orders, wondered why and how they separated themselves from their pack so readily, but Jaiden wasn't being paid to understand or wonder about these things, so she began to fire at those outliers. It was different from the wide-spread carnage that bombs delivered, but here was a wicked thrill in chasing and felling those beasts - those that had chosen to flee, and those who were in over their heads without knowing any better.

But it was still different, and just as Jaiden was truly tiring of having to aim and make minute adjustments for every single shot she took, the Hades had dropped in with a flourishing sweep of its overly large and colorful sword. And now she really couldn't just drop a bomb at her feet and claim that it was an accident to deal with the beasts trying to nip at Minerva's tail and legs. Still, Jaiden was content to let someone else to worry about her flank and her six, and eased up just the slightest as Hades left the beasts in pieces for trying anything and Tristan's voice filled the comm channel.

Soon enough, the skies above darkened considerably, heralding the arrival of their dubious allies, the Order of Eden, as Tristan had warned them. Jaiden would have marveled at the sheer size, the sheer magnitude, of the Imperator Ascalon that seemed to stretch across the entire sky had she not seen the other Ascalons that flew under it in a neat V-formation. In that very moment, she was struck with a deep appreciation for Kalista for never having the Iscariots perform anything as ceremonious, and cringe, as that. Just as her navigation panel began to bleed red, Jaiden turned her attentions back to the beasts that continued to step forward and challenge the Iscariots. Two lunged towards her and she grinned as she let an arrow go in a quick snapshot, letting them go out in a fiery trick shot, a two for one if you will -

- but any fanfare she had prepared fizzled away when a series of explosions rocked away at a distance, echoing and ringing still; it was a demonstration from the Order of Eden, of their awe-inspiring aerial bombardment. And Jaiden was instantly envious of the casual display of superior explosions. Tapping into the Iscariots comm channel, she made a serious inquiry, "where can I get my hands on some of that?" And her mood soured further when she noticed new Ascalons joining in at the fringes, swinging and firing on their territory, their assignment. "Permission to give them a warm welcome?" She added on, lightly toying with the tail-joystick idly as restlessness threatened to overwhelm her.

That was when she noticed that a lone Ascalon had made a beeline straight to their Commander. There was no collision, surprising given the aggressive flight path that had been tracked back onto her navigation panel, but it was clear that it was a confrontation, an encounter that Kalista would have to contend with. With the Commander occupied with a beast of an entirely different caliber, Jaiden sought to make up for the brief loss of firepower the only way she knew how. Notching a cluster bomb tipped arrows this time, she gave a small warning this time, "incoming," and let it fly over just a bit beyond where Artemis and Satan were squaring off, where a small group of four would be blown back to allow the two a more dramatic reunion.

 
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HAK SE-YOON
CS
LOCATION:
CITY OF AEKYRON, VALERIA
INTERACTION: ISCARIOTS OF SOLARIAN & ORDER OF EDEN
Nobody really knows quite how large an Imperator-Class Ascalon is. Even seeing something like the Satan from afar doesn’t do it justice. To truly grasp the enormity of it, one simply has to be inside it.

The ride was, actually, quite peaceful! He enjoyed a cup of hot tea, exercised a bit, did some reading. All before the first order was given.

"All units, prepare for Phase One."

The voice said over the comms. Instantly, the atmosphere changed, becoming charged. It was beginning. How fun!


It wasn’t exactly common for a member (let alone three of them) of the Archangel Covert Operations Division to collaborate with members of their sister branch, the Blitzkrieg Deathclaw Assault Division. They usually ran in different circles, you see. One infiltrates a cabal of Empyrian drug-lords, siphons funds from a rival power broker’s accounts, or assassinates a political enemy at a wedding… While the other, shoots things? He wasn’t quite sure what the Deathclaws do, exactly. But he was fairly certain it involved an inordinate amount of shooting.

Hak Se-Yoon. That was his name. Or was it? Just kidding! Of course it was… Or was it? It didn’t matter. He was an Archangel. And he was currently gearing up to jump from their high-powered four star hotel into an active combat zone rife with monstrosities of both flesh and metal. And yet his mind was as placid as an unperturbed lake. Still, silent. Listening.

”All units, execute into Phase Two."

There we go. Hak tied his hair back messily. It wouldn’t be long now. He didn’t know much about the Deathclaws’ firecracker of a leader, but he gleaned this much: she was out for blood here, and so the order for every mech for itself was not far off. And just like that, as he was putting the finishing touches on his drop gear…

"Deathclaws… Your required permission to enter Phase Three... has been granted."

There it was! His cue. He wasn’t, of course, a Deathclaw—Ha! Could you imagine?—but for the time being, he was playing on their team. And so, their marching orders were now his. Sort of. As a bit of a formality, Hak rifled through the details of his mission in the back of his mind as he put the finishing touches on his gear. Let’s see…

Their target was a person of interest called Novacaeli. A high priority agent of the enemy, Diamondback. But in Hak’s mind, she was probably less important than everyone seemed to make her out to be. Or, better yet, she could simply be the bait. In any case, there was only one way to go now: forward. Luckily, there were plenty of pawns on the field in the case of boobytraps. Oh! That reminds me. The Iscariots ought to be considered, too. As far as pseudo-threats went, Hak liked them. They were scrappy, with a devil-may-care attitude that he just found… Delicious. He hoped he would run into a few of them down there.

”O-okay~! I’m goin’ down.”

He chirped cheerily to his compatriots over their shared, private communications relay before engaging his landing pod. The trip was short, violent, and had a non-zero chance of claiming his life on the off-chance that an ordinance flew wide and struck him mid-descent, but still his heart rate was barely cracking 60. Woo-hoo!

Reverse thrusters kicked in, but the pod was already empty. Hak landed on the roof of the dilapidated casino, whilst his pod, now unmanned, crashed fifty or so yards due west. He thought about alerting his squad to his presence, but decided against, if only to be a little stinker.

A swift kick caved in the rooftop doorway leading to a stairwell down. Smiling beneath his drop helmet, Hak entered the dark, gloomy corridor and padded silently down the first flight of steps before arriving at a landing of what appeared to have once been a penthouse suite. He regarded the décor bemusedly before finding a relatively barren spot on the floor—save for a few scattered bloodstains—to sit cross-legged on.

Here I come, little mouse!

Hak focused on his breathing, interlacing his fingers and resting his elbows on his thighs. He shut his eyes, apparently meditating. Moments later, his body miraculously began to float up off of the floor... And all the while, shadows pooled and danced around the corners of the room...
 
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CYNTHE M. SULUBUS
CS
LOCATION:
CITY OF AEKYRON, VALERIA
INTERACTION: ISCARIOTS OF SOLARIAN & ORDER OF EDEN
Sighting of Order of Eden;

Tiamat soared the sky in the formatted position; second nearest to the Belobog—the most front on the left side. Its legs were retracted, folded so that they could lessen the air pressure. Inside Tiamat's cephalothorax, Cynthe was busy keeping check of the coordinates in the GPS, as well as piloting Tiamat so that it didn't get out of the formation until when the third phase order would take place.

When the permission for usage of armaments issued by Raidriar reached to her ears, Cynthe activated her power to keep the steering wheel steady as she slid her chair a little bit to her left. Her red-veins-adorned fingers glided around the rows of buttons, pressing the ones needed with accuracy. One button opened a small bit of Tiamat's skin and gave sight of the missiles stored inside its thorax. When multiple red dots appeared on her GPS, Cynthe issued a command to prepare a pair of missiles ready for launch.

One by one, Tiamat and its pilot sent them off with issued coordinates, each one a bit different from the previous, though the accuracy was never a disappointment. The price of a missile was a batch of monsters with varying amounts. Despite the quota almost running out, leaving Tiamat only with two missiles at its disposal, they managed to steer clear half the total sum.

When the third phase was issued, there was a buzz before Howard's voice resounded through her telecom. At the end of the message left by Belobog's pilot, Cynthe's edges of lips went upward just a little bit, red vein gradually disappearing as Cynthe once again grabbed the steering wheel. As Tiamat gradually descended to the barren ground, Cynthe moved Tiamat to the left-back, letting the melee-oriented Ascalons take up the front.

Recent;

"I'll manage the outskirts at the west and north.", a pause; a concluding of the message addressed to those not yet engulfed in a battle, before she addressed the Skirmisher of Order of Eden. "Ms. Tyche, may I ask you of your assistance later, just in case the archangels lose sight of Novacaeli. I'll give news of her location if she heads in your direction."

Cynthe then moved Tiamat to a high building she saw last time, some kind of marketing office of the sort, located facing the back of the casino, to which she had located a pool of water behind the attraction. While on her way, passing through various Ascalons, parked and moving, some seen and some not, Cynthe spotted a moving second-gen Ascalon, of the white and yellow scheme, holding a rifle. She thought it was piloted, so she switched the receiver of her message through her telecom to Novelia. When she was sure it's connected to her telecom, she began,

"Ms. Hestia, can you be on the lookout and cover the east and south area? I'll be managing the west and north. Oh, and, have a pilot at bay, just in case she's out of your reach if she goes to another part of your area. Thank you in advance."

It was understood by Cynthe that the Order of Eden and Iscariots of Solarian formed some kind of mutual agreement to not work together, for various reasons. But at the moment, their target is an important one that would add their lead to the Anarchon Syndicate.

With a willed buzz of disconnection on her telecom, Cynthe stopped at yet another skyscraper. Though not as tall as where their target should be, this building would provide a good point of view if based on its height and the distance from the area where the battlefields centered around. Cynthe opened up Tiamat's abdomen to fish out the rifle and ammunition. Its legs climbed up the building, before stabbing to the concrete wall bits to made sure Tiamat didn't slide down. Tiamat's torso leaned to the front and on the roof while completing the preparation. When Tiamat had positioned one of its eyes on the lens, Cynthe pulled down the machine that led her eyes to see what Cynthe sees. Usually, this wouldn't be needed since she could see from Tiamat's torso, but at the moment, her means of sight would be through this.

 
AMALIA LILLEGARD
CS
LOCATION:
CITY OF AEKYRON, VALERIA
INTERACTION: Order of Eden


Eyes in the sky;
Parallel to Tiamat and on Belobog's right, Tyche hovered steadily, rigid and unmoving compared to some of the more energetic and combat prepped mecha around it. While the body was unmoving, the multitude of camera equipment adorning her surface was rapidly moving across the terrain below. Hostiles, Civillians, Iscariots. And Amalia was the one who had to take all of this information and turn it into something useful. Light armaments meant that Phase One and Two for Amalia didn't even require any major piloting on her part, rather she was in the chest of the mech, looking at more detailed topography and details of the battlefield below.

A slide of the hand across the display and she sent some data to the other mecha as they began their bombardment. Recommended areas to hit, areas with high risk of friendly fire, and a few recommendations of her own for places she'd noted were particularly good for Tyche's manoeuvrability. Whether the others choose to use them or not, they would be a benefit all the same to her on the ground. By the time the smoke was clearing, she was already clambering her way back into Tyche's pilot seat, located in the head. Stretching her way throw the narrow crawlspace, Amalia found herself once again blessing her small frame. Any bigger and she would still be working as an operator. She huffed as she clambered back into her seat, preparing a post scan of the bombardment. Just because she could fit didn't mean it was easy.

Viewing the aftermath, there was a pang of jealousy at the brutal effectiveness of her teammates. Tyche stood no chance of being that good at...killing. Though maybe with the reputation of the Order by anyone looking for a reason to hate them, that was for the best. She vaguely heard Sergeant Zerstoiten's remarks, he seemed relaxed. Maybe these missions were more run of the mill than Amalia initially expected or realised. She gripped the joysticks in front of her, pushing her feet forward on the throttle, and Tyche began to dive.

Wheels on the ground;
"Ms. Tyche, may I ask you of your assistance later, just in case the archangels lose sight of Novacaeli. I'll give news of her location if she heads in your direction."

Cynthe's voice was pretty clear despite the crunch of metal and hydraulics as Tyche hit the ground. A crater from someone's missile bombardment had created a nice ramp for her to get up to speed, and she opened up the jets, Tyche skimming down a highway like a speed skater. "Copy," she said, focusing on keeping her tone calm and steady. It was still important to make a good impression, especially with Miss Asher heading the charge. "I'm doing a lap of the target building, I'll get some eyes on potential bodies inside and send you the data," she said, yanking Tyche to the right to avoid a beast. Spinning around, Tyche raised an arm, firing a series of quick dull thuds into the hide of the monstrosity, before the metal plates of it's legs opened up, two rockets launching into the sky. The missile's arced lazily in the sky, before coming back down on the signal her rounds were giving off. Direct impact - Amalia smiled.

The building in question was a decent size, it was going to take time to get a decent picture of the interior, if Novacaeli was even there. Amalia maneovered Tyche around the structure, watching as the cameras built up a 3D map of the structure on her screen. The thermal results would take a little while longer to get back and track people vs heating elements vs bullet fire, but once it did, Amalia would send it off to the others. Of particular interest was the first few results to come back, a number of Ascalons in standby outside the building, their pilots likely inside. A few other heat signatures pinged her attention, more flashing onto her screen as time went by. The tower seemed quite busy, despite the circumstances. "There's Iscariot pilots in the building," Amalia spoke aloud. "I'll keep an eye on their progress,"

Tyche pushed off of the building, turning back into it's gliding motion once more and heading outfield to deal with any latecomers and try and warn the others of changes on the field. Plus, if Novacaeli did get out of the building, it was Tyche or Satan that stood the best chance of catching them, and the element of surprise didn't exactly fall in Satan's wheelhouse.
 
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VICTOR XELOS
CS
LOCATION:
CITY OF AEKYRON, VALERIA
INTERACTION: ORDER OF EDEN
Phase One; stay in the V formation specifically near the last of the right side position. Victor Xelos keep on thinking to keep out of the sight of Sergeant Raidriar Asher and try not ot get her attention but that is going to be hard to do over the fact that her Imperator Ascalon Satan is nineteen times large than any other Advanced Mechanized Assault Walker flying over the entire team and just a guess maybe just maybe the computer systems or the sensors of Satan can spot Victor Xelos which is annoying him also what if Sergeant Raidriar Asher decided now would be a good time to stop flying as the image of the Satan just crushing his Advanced Mechanized Assault Walker under its own foot flashed in the head of Victor Xelos. Victor Xelos thought about that crushing image only for him to wish that he was not going to be killed that way as that is a horrible way to go.

Phase Two activate the twin auto-cannons mounted on the wrists but Victor Xelos used only the right arm of his Advanced Mechanized Assault Walker for this phase two, he deactivated the auto targeting system and focused more on making manually targeted shots while the rest of the squad was either split with all guns blazing or just like him counting their shots. No need to activate the rocket pod as beasts are not considered high valued targets also based on the damages the others are doing, putting to much effort was unnecessary. Just a little more and then Victor Xelos can play around when eventually the blessed words was spoken by Sergeant Raidriar Asher.

Phrase Three and it souded sweet to Victor Xelos even with the announcement from the Staff Sergeant Howard Zerstoiten to come back alive was pleasing to hear as the Staff Sergeant Howard Zerstoiten announcement may have accidentally given Victor Xelos more leeway than intended however before Victor Xelos can begin engagement did Corporal Cynthe Sulubus make an announcement to take care of the outskirts at the West and the North parts so Victor Xelos realized he needs to watch for the East. Victor Xelos with flip a switch, turn a knob and tune into the teams telecom before pushing a button to speak.

"Orders confirmed. I will provide over watch on the outskirts of the East but staying close to the North outskirts to provide backup. Synchronize watches and communication frequency because in one minute, I shall begin radio jamming to ensure target communication is disrupted. Over and out."

Victor Xelos turned off his communicator so as to not cloud the teams communications. Victor Xelos would first slowly pull down the thruster levers to begin to readjust the power output from the leg and back thrusters and make a slow descent downwards to a roof of one of the buildings while paying attention to his sensors for any active enemies near his descent location so far so good. Landing with a loud thump followed with the scattering of dust Victor Xelos would make a quick survey as he turned the head of the Hunter to check the surroundings only to find nothing much but the remains of Valeria plus all the battle damages caused by the attacks of the beasts and team mates as he took the scene in for a bit before going back to his plan. Flip that switch, press those buttons and begin scanning for available frequencies to jam. While that is going on push that button and the segmented armor covering the rocket pod begins to lower down so that the rocket pod can be usable. Victor Xelos would return his free hand back to the hand manipulator joystick and places his feet on the footrests since movement was not needed at the moment as he now waits for the jamming system to find all available frequencies so that he can begin barrage jamming.

 
CAMILO K. DEVON
CS
LOCATION:
CITY OF AEKYRON, VALERIA
INTERACTION: ISCARIOTS OF SOLARIAN
Camilo soughed as he lay back into his cracked leather seat and reached for a handle above. A slight tug pulled down this long, cylindrical pipe that adjusted well to his gaze and propped comfortably over his eyes. This periscope provided a clear birds-eye view. "Much better than the footage off that clanky screen." He referred to the tiny, pixely display installment he was required to utilize. 'It'll fit into the modern era of tech' he propped his chin on an elbow, "Please." Besides being a checklist show, it was otherwise useless.

Behemoth surveyed front to back, Camilo had a front-row seat to his teammate's in practice. They were like a barrage spread between different conflicts, there was no formality. Unlike the intriguing commodities flying above them. Lucklessly, the order showed unannounced, the large V parading down with tall and vast shadows. He knew they'd come eventually, he was sure as the sun sinking. He also knew it'd shatter him if there was any human casualty on the Order's behalf. His fingers were twitching, his breath became heavy and sputtered. "I should park." Being blind to the dashboard left room for concern, but that situation hadn't proven an issue. Combing back soft white curls, Camilo finalized his study and began a predetermined course. The last thing anyone wants is a wreck this big to clean.

In the case of giant machines and armored monsters, even the thickest glass should be considered brittle. One hand gripped frim on the joystick, the other hovered the dashboard. Because the Behemoth couldn't arm while driving, Camilo only moved when he saw a clear path. He prepared brief but quick maneuvers, watching other Iscariots while they pummeled triads of abominations. Their cut-up cadavers flattened mushed under the wheels of his machine. His eyes merely lazed at the brutality of it all. To him, there was something, appealing, about the way the Diamondback's monsters seized before they died. Camilo was sickening in that way, he couldn't help but hate them.

The push was slow but Behemoth neared top speed, Camilo finally at the foot of the building. He pulled a lever in the center dashboard. Behemoth shuddered and clicked, an ear-piercing warning bellowed from its speakers. There was this, ugly graining noise. Cranks and belts spun, bolts twisted into the ground, gears churned one another. As Behemoth stretched, large energy shields blanketed its sides. A lengthy smoothbore folded out from the crown. Every mechanical alteration lifted the machine. A glance at the system blatantly proved that it worked fine. A reminder that Behemoth was merely old and loud, not broken. The fancy-schmancy pilot concurred, his machine was reliable and fully capable of protecting the Valerians, as he intended.

In truth, he prodded himself toward the building with an ulterior motive in mind. Premonitions, Camilo had them. And they were like waking nightmares. It had only gotten worse after the Iscariots landed in Valeria. Every time he rested his eyes he'd see blood-soaked, terrified Valerian's faces. He could only squeeze through it. Just the idea, of thought turning to reality, made him nauseous, and lightheaded. He imagined that by protecting the casino, somehow the vision would cease. Wafts of cigars and lemon cleaners brought him back to a calculated state again. Camilo's lips curled down to a grimace, sights set on a horrible monster. It was writhing, appearing pained in manner. It hacked up saliva and slobber, bloodied remnants from whatever poor creature it mauled dropped from its mouth. Its eyes were set on Camilo. Each pace sharp metal claws broke through the pavement. The pilot pressed four sequential buttons. He flicked the tiniest switch. Several clanks noised through the turret walls. The smoothbore automatically targeted the animalistic cretin. Camilo readied his next trinket, aimed directly at the beast. The gun tip glinted a bright shade of blue. A flash of silver jutted through the monster's metal spine. The needle head broke through its stomach. And its heart slid out of its body, pierced, exposed. "You cretins won't step near this building."
 
Novacaeli
"The target has been neutralized—with the cost of the entire city now being engulfed in flames."

It was initially planned to be a simple operation. The target and the execution was elementary, and could've been finished following the textbook of assassins, and yet it had turned into an absolute disaster.

Whose fault was it, exactly? It couldn't have been her, the executioner, if she was the one who carried out the operation from the beginning. She received her payment and got to work, fair and square. And as promised she engraved several bullets into the chief secretary's head, leaving them lifeless on the cold marble floor, and used her fire magic to perish the body into dust and ashes.

Nova perfected her stealth to be caught so easily. From the infiltration into the casino to whipping out her pistol to finish the job, she was certain that no vital errors were made that could warrant the situation at hand. But if she had to blame a certain individual who could've had a hand in the mess that she was in, it was most definitely him.

This was his plan to begin with. Only one man on this shithole called Valeria could summon and control the monsters in the first place. The Diamondback had used her as bait, and was planning to do something more than cause havoc in the innocent capital. Did she mind the catastrophe that was occurring below the streets? Certainly not, as she practiced the art of sociopathy long ago, and had no reason to give up her talents and plead guilty.

The payment was all that mattered to her—but it was a matter of time before someone would figure out her true objective.

Nova, who had already laid sensory traps all over the casino long before the fiasco, felt her senses triggered as multiple foreign personnel entered the building from both a top and below. Several of them were geared with equipment only mercenaries could afford, and those that landed on the roof adapted weapons she could only dream of acquiring. The demonoid licked her lips, the adrenaline rush exciting her heart towards foreign levels, as the thought of having to deal with several enemies made her excited beyond help.

A former soldier-turned-assassin was who Novacaeli was, and she could never forget the insane reasons why she deserted the military to pursue her new goals.

Nova loaded her rifle and took the other bystanders hostage, threatening their lives to the Valerian government that was struggling to negotiate with the assassin. As time passed, Nova noticed that the Valerian police force ceased their initiative and negotiated no longer with the mercenary, and instead began stalling time, which she realized the moment they began to switch tactics.

The Order of Eden had been dispatched, and the newly installed Iscariots of Solarian were most likely on their way to claim the cash, and her predictions were proven to be true the moment she saw the mechanized walkers approaching the city.

If the Valerian government were willing to sacrifice their civilians to capture her alive, then so be it.

With the microphone still active and connected to the Valerian police, she cocked her rifle and aimed the barrel towards the group of hostages cowering in the corner, leaving only a few words to the police before pulling the trigger to massacre them in near seconds.

"Hilarious. I'm afraid you've gambled with the wrong mercenary, Chief Lauris."

The execution was not done in total secrecy, as the gunfire echoed throughout the building, forcing the other fugitives to scream in horror as they heard gunshots from the highest floor. The Archangels and the Iscariots would definitely pickup an abnormal activity from the upper floors, even if some may not have heard the gunshots, they would certainly be able to tell that something had gone awry.

But before any of them could make it to the top floor, Nova bit the pin of the grenade and tossed it towards the stairs, along with several other explosives to help aid its destruction, later completely destroying the stairway. The debris fell until it stumbled onto the first floor, rendering the pathway inaccessible.

 
KAGERO AZUKI
CS
LOCATION:
CITY OF AEKYRON, VALERIA
INTERACTION: ISCARIOTS OF SOLARIAN

Rows upon rows of slot machines greeted Kagero on the other side of the grandiose casino doors, all lined up in rows like soldiers in formation.
Just like every room she had checked before, there wasn't a single living thing to be found, only the various personal belongings that laid strewn about, scattered, abandoned by their owners, tables chairs and furnishings haphazardly knocked over, and the occasional, foreboding, dark red-brown stain of oxidized blood.
A still, quiet dread polluted the air, which seemed to swallow up the amalgam of joyous jingles and chirps produced by the building's main attractions.
Only the monstrous rumbling of the massive ascalon flying overhead's engines managed to avoid being consumed, dwarfing the stillness of the air with a terror all it's own.

This entire situation has gotten too complicated.
They were chasing an assassin that had managed to kill several high-profile targets, eluded an entire planet's military force, and was even making a fool of Empyria's finest by constantly evading capture.
Now they were on her hunting grounds, playing her game, by her rules, with bare minimum knowledge to guard themselves.
And to make matters worse, their "allies," had decided to make a grand appearance, coming in unannounced in a vapid attempt to save face.
Another resonating boom shook through the building; something smashing in through the upper floors, if Kagero had to guess. Thinking of what it could possibly be, and how their prey would be reacting to it, made her long for another cigarette.
This mission really couldn't become any more of a pain in the ass.

...Or maybe it could, if the hurried footsteps charging rapidly towards her from her six were any indication.
Her years of hardened instinct willed her to throw her body forward, just as she felt the slight breeze of something cutting through the air where her head had been.
With an acrobatic twist of her body, she was now facing her attacker, her legs stable and folded beneath her in a semi-prone crouch, her gun already raised and at the ready.
What she saw was much the same as what she had encountered outside; a horrible, dog-like creature, it's hide a warped mass of tumor-like bulbous flesh, with metal plates and wiring sticking out in stark, almost alien contrast.
It's face, a hideous, rounded snout, filled with interlocking rows of pointed, dagger-like teeth, which spun around constantly like some form of demented blender, crowned with a pair of orange beady eyes, which seemed almost surprised to find it's prey not crushed beneath it's three-toed, steel claws, stained red with fresh, human blood.
Kagero didn't give it a chance to pounce upon her again, she tapped her trigger twice, the first shot slamming directly between it's eyes, sending the beast reeling back, the second smashing through the monster's jaw, smashing it to bits in a shower of teeth, bone and shrapnel.
A hideous, metallic whine escaped the creature as it's body was flung backwards, coming to a stop some feet away, before it came to rest, never to move again.
Letting out a weary exhale, Kagero rose back to her feet, taking a moment to bask in the silence that returned to the room with the beast's demise, her ears tuned to listen for any other sign of activity, other threats lingering in the shadows.

Very faintly, she heard it; a small glass breaking, the rattling of an old, Valerian mahogany cabinet, stifled, labored breathing, all coming from behind the nearby bar.
Slowly, very slowly, she crept towards the sound, her gun pointed ahead, ready to fire at the first sight of movement, mind anticipating an encounter with another mechanical nightmare.
As she turned around the corner, however, she found no monster lying in wait, but a small, trembling woman, trying desperately to immerse as much of herself into the false safety provided by the bar's walls.
Her skin was a sickly, anemic pale, nearly matching the long white hair covering her head, remnants of what was once a sensible, work-oriented hair-bun still evident, now only a frazzled, disheveled mess, dampened with a sheen of cold sweat that had it sticking to her knitted brow.
In her right hand, she clutched a small ice pick, a last means of defense, though she barely seemed to have the strength to lift it with what remained of her hideously shredded arm.
Her left hand, clung desperately to the side of her dirtied, white suit, just beneath her ribs, where a blossoming stain of red was steadily creeping it's way towards her chest, down towards her leg, and out in small, little rivers through the gaps in her fingers.
Her eyes, framed by cracked black frames, were glassy, the spark within just barely able to keep alight, just making contact Kagero's cold, icy stare seemed a herculean effort.
Judging from the laminated ID pinned to the woman's lapel, her name was Renee Van Saar, an accountant for one of the businesses upstairs,
Not the master assassin they were looking for.
Best to just leave her behind, Kalista had made her orders clear, and they had more pressing matters to attend to.
and judging from the state of that wound, there was no hope for her anyways.

No...
hope...
An ethereal voice echoed within her, an ice cold dagger plunging into her mind, into her thoughts, into her heart.
The single, constant drone of the heart monitor, the static of the emergency radio, the septic smell of dying flesh and chemicals.
The walls of Motherwill.
She only snapped back to reality when she realized that her breath had caught in her throat, releasing those haunted memories through a stifled huff through her nose.
She had a job to do, a criminal to catch. This was not the time or the place to get lost in yesterday.
The woman was staring up at her, witnessing her fugue, would probably seem both confused and concerned, if she could muster the strength to make such expressions.
Instead, poor Renee sat there, her bloodied mouth agape, her left arm struggling to lift it's own weight.
"B-b-b..." she croaked, trying to muster the strength to speak, the words bubbling in her throat.
Kagero raised a single eyebrow at the woman's struggle, leaning in closer to hear what this dying woman was so desperate to tell her.
She finally managed to lift her arm, and raise a single finger.
"B-Behind...you..."
The familiar sound of those three toed claws scrapping against tile filled Kagero's ears once more, she could feel the presence behind her, see it's shadow envelop them both as the beast lunged.
Immediately, Kagero twisted her body around, swinging her knife reactively behind her.
The blade finds a home, just behind the monster's jaws, plunging deep into it's throat, dragging the creature's entire body along with the force of her swing, until it was brutally pinned to the wall like an insect on display, sending a shower of vintages cascading out of their wall-mounted displays, and onto the floor.
Once the creature's dying machinations slowed to a halt, Kagero unsheathed her blade from it's skull, turning her attention back to the bleeding civilian bleeding out at her feet.
"Thanks," she sighed.
"Guess I owe you one."
The girl mustered a small, weak smile in response. She was fading fast.
Kagero would be kicking herself for her own carelessness later, and again, she would kick herself the small part of her still able to feel empathy, but as she drew her only emergency adrenaline shot and liquid wound sealant from her pocket, she reminded herself that she would feel much worse, letting a potentially valuable source of information disappear before her.


 
SERAFINA PALLAS
CS
LOCATION:
CITY OF AEKYRON, VALERIA
INTERACTION: ISCARIOTS OF SOLARIAN

The mere passing of Havoc and its radiating exhaust flames melted blocks of building on its track. Roaring, steadying its aim, the machine of war dragged a bulldozing line across the already broken landscape. Another of its target right ahead, soon they too would join their predecessor in plunging to hell. The abomination, full of skewed limbs and rotten metal became the sole existence of Serafina’s concern. Wholly in that moment of a second’s fraction, she had no living purpose other than its destruction.

Deafening roars from the mech’s engine utterly dwarfed the victim’s monstrous cries, serving it an appetizer of imminent-doom terror before the main dish of brutal executions. She could have chosen the torso for maximum goriness, but the symbolic prospect of a clean beheading was too good to pass up. The gap between them shrunk to nothing. The Demonoid determined the point of impact. A sharp, feral cry escaped her lips. Her right hand reached out, grabbing the gauntlet's throttle handle in front, which gave propulsion force to the mech’s right arm, and then a flick of the elbow, the axe head on the mech side raised. There came the slash, precisely when her machine met the beast, beastly was the sharpened steel, but clean the cut. Its head rolled.

Havoc’s all front thrusters blazed, steel heels ground on the thin asphalt layer of the street, it came to a halt. Metal groaned and the earth shook.

The merry girl sat back to examine her handiwork. The headless body quivered then stumbled down lifelessly. Even then, its back-mounted auto-fire turret still blazed at the ground, rattling and sparkling like one lively death rattle. She gave it no heed: the cleanly severed head was all she cared for. She kicked it once and made it rolled some distance, which amused her. It was truly a sorry sight of a face, the fearsome visage could only scare street sweepers now. Finding herself in a sudden mood for sport, she gave the head another mean kick. Havoc’s armored feet sent the head flying, denting and bouncing off a building. It dropped heavily on a group of collided cars, then rolled off, leaving them in a chorus of dismayed alarms. As Serafina followed its movement and was being inspired to introduce her teammates to this joyous game (sharing is caring), the head halted mid-roll. A sudden force had sent it to the sky. The earth quaked.

She started, then at once moved her feet from the motion replicating control to the thruster pedals. Havoc’s thrusters went alive, dashing it to a clearer position from the block of tall buildings. There she beheld a squad of Ascalon hovering on the city’s rim, whose volleys went on for some time before suddenly they broke the neat V formation and descended for the melee.

The main attraction was hard to miss: huge and menacing, an Ascalon, if it could even be classified as one, speeding across the battlefield and breached the center of the Iscariot’s formation. At once the giant’s lethal loadout entranced Serafina and filled her eyes with wonder. Her mouth dropped in earnest. She might even have salivated a bit.

As soon as the stupor passed, the girl gave a verbal command to power the main thrusters. Then she chased after the giant Ascalon. Only once or twice did she removed her ravenous gaze from it to maneuver long arching leaps over the monsters on the way. She didn’t even care to lop their heads off. Too great was the game before her that she disregarded the small games. The monsters were good sports, sure, but something of this proportion was a delicacy of a lifetime. The Ship-Slaying Axe could at long last attest its lofty title.

Soon the giant Ascalon’s goal became clear as it approached commander Kalista. Serafina angled the pedals then slammed them on the floor. Havoc bent down, around it the ground cracked. Then all at once the powerful actuators in its legs roared and sprang the whole machines upwards, its thrusters engraved a wide crater on the ground. To the sky, it went. At the tail end of the arc it'd made in the air, Havoc landed violently on a building complex. Its heavy mass broke through the top floor, but just as quickly, the machine propelled itself to the intact part of the roof. There, with good vantage, Serafina could observe her commander one street away.

Only then did she check the identification signal of the new party: the Order of Eden.

“So that’s how they want to end this, hah?” she voiced her thought.

Ever since her admission to the Iscariots, she had heard of their enmity with the Order. The boiling tension between two organizations must be released at some point and here they came: in a mission to capture one single rat, they brought a “reinforcement” of high-graded Ascalons and one Ascalon Armor. To Serafina at least, their aim was clear. She wished for nothing less.

Commander Kalista though, she thought while quietly observing her reaction to the Order’s commander, as good as she was, standing alone against an opponent on that scale was practically suicide. Even so, she had neither requested backup nor made any attempt to flee the ground.

“Just say the word, Kalista. Whenever.” She could barely hide her excitement as she spoke through the comm.

It was the commander’s choice, Serafina concluded, and her mark, which she had a right to. If she died then she would have only herself to blame. And then, the Demonoid licked her fang, the fun would begin in earnest.

 
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