Rule two of defending a position from the antithesis: Don’t box yourself in unless an AI was involved with building the box itself.
-Shadowtag to an unknown Samurai, 2048
“Pyri, I glued both doors shut! How am I supposed to get out?” I hissed through my teeth.
Simple. You splash the door with hydrogen peroxide, then send a grenade out first.
“Fine, just give me the stuff I wanted so I can get out of this death trap!”
<table style="border-collapse: collapse; width: 29.5923%">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td style="width: 27.7548%">New Purchases!</td>
<td style="width: 3.09111%"> </td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 27.7548%">Hydrogen Peroxide Container</td>
<td style="width: 3.09111%; text-align: right">1</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 27.7548%">Painkillers</td>
<td style="width: 3.09111%; text-align: right">5</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 27.7548%">Vulgoran Armor Plating-S</td>
<td style="width: 3.09111%; text-align: right">125</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 27.7548%">Insulated Nanite Helmet</td>
<td style="width: 3.09111%; text-align: right">55</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 27.7548%">Final Cost:</td>
<td style="width: 3.09111%; text-align: right">186</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 27.7548%">Points Reduced To:</td>
<td style="width: 3.09111%; text-align: right">1581</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
A single box dropped onto the floor in front of me; Inside was a helmet, pill bottle and several flat metal tiles.
Take one pill now. It will last for the next three hours.
I quickly opened the bottle and tipped out a single orange circular pill about a quarter inch across. Not wasting anymore time, I dry-swallowed it, then coughed a bit to clear the discomfort from my throat.
“Pyri what the fuck are these?” I could already feel the pain fading away. “I know you said plating, but these won''t sit on my body!”
Place them against your suit.
I quickly grabbed one of the purple dinner plate sized things, and held it to my stomach. It quickly deformed and reshaped itself into a perfectly fitted plate covering the lower half of the front of my waist. Getting the memo, I began tapping the plates onto different parts of my jumpsuit.
The ‘S’ at the end stands for shifting. These plates are meant as a quick option for non-combatants to armor up in emergencies on Vulgora. They are fast acting and scan the wearer to create comfortable yet effective armor fully capable of stopping Model Five needle fire.
By the time Pyri had finished, I had finished putting on the armor which was still slightly shifting around my body, and had the helmet in my hands. It looked like a basic motorcycle helmet with the front shield pried off.
The plates will adapt to how you personally move and will adapt based on that as well. They will finish in about ten minutes. The helmet will form a shield around your face once it is adorned, and you have put your glasses back on. You should be safe against anything on the other side of that door.
My eyes flicked up to the door in question, and back at the helmet. With a shrug I took off the glasses, slid the helmet on, and then put my glasses back on.
As I muttered about how annoying that would get, the helmet sealed itself up. Going back to the crate yielded the one thing I had missed. A water balloon with H2O2 written on it with a black marker. Taking the hint I grabbed the balloon and threw it at the door. The C-Foam practically dissolved before my eyes, and also left an absolute mess on the floor.
“That’s future Spark’s problem.”
Of course dear.
After placing the C-Foam Launcher back onto my backpack and pulling out the Trill, I crouched down to pick up the grenade I had left there. Looking at the door with trepidation, I slowly put my hand on the knob, and let out a slow breath.
“Here goes nothing.”
I quickly yanked the door open and shoved the grenade through, where it practically exploded with electricity, frying a lot of Models around it. I wasn’t far behind it, Walking into the arcing lightning as if it was a gentle rain, feeling nothing other than some slight fuzziness from static.
The arm on my backpack made its presence known alongside my rifle as the cracks of lightning echoed around me. I was honestly quite happy with the purchase considering what lay in front of me.
The yard was practically flooded with Threes, all of which were either starting to rush at me, or were staring right at me. A massive flock of Ones was also in the air.
“Why in the FUCK are there so many Threes here?” I shouted while throwing three grenades into the crowd. “Surely they didn’t bring this many?”
Some of those Threes are far too new to be a part of the initial force. They were created here.
I barely kept myself from freezing up. “A hive here? Already!?”
Model Sevens are primarily a utility Model that takes large portions of infected populations and can make hives out of them. It appears that there were enough pigs to create a hive with the potential to birth Models quickly. Also given the smaller size, these Threes and some of the Ones were birthed early. You must have exhausted their populations of Fours and Fives and forced them to adapt. If smaller numbers of powerful units didn’t work to rid them of you, then burying you in sheer numbers might.Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.
It was starting to look like that might was turning into a will. I was being pushed back to the wall, and the swarm was thinning, but due to the Threes unwillingness to clump together and risk greater collateral damage.
“Pyri! I need actual defenses, or something explosive to truly thin this swarm out!”
The universe decided now was a perfect time to kick me in the teeth as the Ones flying above began swooping down towards me right as my rifle threw a low energy warning. I quickly pulled out my hand cannon and fired wildly into the swarm. The flood of electricity proving far more effective at clearing the smaller Models as the bolts arced from bird to bird.
Throw your last few grenades when you’re able to.
I sidestepped a One that had made it through my wild firing, and holstered my pistol. Swapping the Trill back into my left hand, I pulled out a grenade and threw it up into the swarm, lighting it up like some twisted Christmas tree. The last two grenades went into the swarm, and right at my feet to force them to give me some kind of space.
In my now reinflating pouch I found a few canisters of… something.
Cryo-grenades. Throw them where I indicate.
I did my best to land them in the circles Pyri highlighted with decent success, each one instantly bursting with a wave of ice freezing over all the nearby antithesis. A balmy seventy-four Fahrenheit dropped down to a comparatively frigid fifty-three in a split second as I yanked out the drained battery and slammed a fresh one in its place.
Brandishing the now joyously humming gun, I scanned over what was left of the swarm and found that Pyri had used the zapper strapped to my back to finish them off. The now silent barnyard felt like it was holding its breath for something. As if the fighting would reignite at any moment.
I cautiously advanced to the far corner of the building, doing a quick check of the interior of the farrowing house while passing by, and upon rounding the corner I locked eyes with the fucker behind this pincer attack. It was a large hulking thing that almost looked like a mix between a bear and a tiger that was as large as a small van.
I quickly back pedaled around the corner as it lunged forward at me with its teeth coming together around nothing with a loud clack. As it rounded the corner, I shot at it with the Trill only for it to shrug the bolt off, the only evidence of it getting hit being a small charred spot on its shoulder.
You need to hit it for longer. It will only take damage from the heat otherwise.
The Six seemed to understand it couldn’t withstand sustained fire so it opted to charge directly at me instead. I threw myself to the side in a heap to dodge, only for it to turn right around and charge me again. I pushed up and ran to the side only to get sent flying as it passed me.
My hip flared in pain as I landed in a heap. Not wanting this to go on much longer, I pulled out the C-Foam Launcher and sent a volley of foam blorbs right into its face which quickly encased it in a grayish yellow shell.
Pulling myself to my feet, I limped over to the thing to see Pyri had left me a spot open to kill it. Placing the anode right onto it I pulled the trigger; The Six convulsed within the tomb I set around it, before it went slack and died right there.
Letting the rifle fall to the ground with me sitting gingerly alongside it, I let out a sigh of relief.
Spark your hip is injured. Also you are sitting on the fried corpse of a pig zombie.
I sucked air in through my teeth. “Get what you need for the hip. I don’t care about the pig. It''s a seat cushion now.”
<table style="border-collapse: collapse; width: 34.8557%">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td style="width: 21.4167%">Combat Log!</td>
<td style="width: 6.02448%"> </td>
<td style="width: 7.41471%"> </td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 21.4167%">Model One</td>
<td style="width: 6.02448%; text-align: right">x53</td>
<td style="width: 7.41471%; text-align: right">53</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 21.4167%">Model Three</td>
<td style="width: 6.02448%; text-align: right">x86</td>
<td style="width: 7.41471%; text-align: right">860</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 21.4167%">Model Six</td>
<td style="width: 6.02448%; text-align: right"> </td>
<td style="width: 7.41471%; text-align: right">30</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 21.4167%">Model Seven</td>
<td style="width: 6.02448%; text-align: right">x32</td>
<td style="width: 7.41471%; text-align: right">160</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 21.4167%">Cryo-Grenade</td>
<td style="width: 6.02448%; text-align: right">x3</td>
<td style="width: 7.41471%; text-align: right">30</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 21.4167%">Nano Regenerative Suite</td>
<td style="width: 6.02448%; text-align: right"> </td>
<td style="width: 7.41471%; text-align: right">20</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 21.4167%">Reward:</td>
<td style="width: 6.02448%; text-align: right"> </td>
<td style="width: 7.41471%; text-align: right">1053</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 21.4167%">Total:</td>
<td style="width: 6.02448%; text-align: right"> </td>
<td style="width: 7.41471%; text-align: right">2634</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
I pulled off my helmet, and opened the small box that dropped next to me. After another dose of sand was pushed into my lungs I realized something.
“Pyri, why wasn’t my backpack gun firing?”
The arm twisted around and put itself in my line of sight.
“Oh.”
The dish and the anode inside of it were both starting to warp from the heat of over use.
“Can I fix it?”
Actually yes, I had this part mounted with Earth based materials specifically for that purpose.
I slipped the zapper off my back and down in front of me. “Go ahead and buy what I need, but can you modify it to handle swarms better? My rifle can handle the big stuff right now.”
A sound decision!
<table style="border-collapse: collapse; width: 23.4362%">
<tbody>
<tr>
<td style="width: 16.2363%">New Purchase!</td>
<td style="width: 3.90625%"> </td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 16.2363%">MK II Fork Emitter</td>
<td style="width: 3.90625%; text-align: right">20</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="width: 16.2363%">Points Reduced To:</td>
<td style="width: 3.90625%; text-align: right">2614</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
A small flat box appeared next to me on my seat cushion. Opening it I found another dish, but this time it was smaller and the anode had a few branches near the top. Pulling out an adjustable wrench, I began detaching the mount from the weapon’s arm.
“How is the rest of the farm doing?”
As in their levels of antithesis presence?
“Yeah.”
Currently all the Models seem to have been pulled back to the offensive against you, or to the hive to protect it. Other than a basic sensor sweep for Sevens, I would say the hive is the last big target for you.
The warped piece of equipment finally came loose, and I carefully put it on the ground. “That’s not too bad.” I pulled the new dish out of the box along with a few bolts, and attached it together. “It makes things a bit easier for me later, but would it be fine to get a few drones or something to sweep the farm and protect it?”
The catalogues necessary would come out to one-hundred-fifty points and each subsequent drone with proper equipment would run up around two-hundred-fifty each for the drone itself, proper scanning equipment, and a weapon.
I finished tightening down the nut keeping the power cable attached to the dish, and the whole thing moved around as if testing its stability before folding back up with a chime. I stood up and slipped on the zapper before walking over and grabbing the launcher I had left lying in the grass.
“Get two of them. I’m still saving for transition, and I need backup for the hive and that goddess damned Seventeen.”