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12/6/2015 3:28:15 AM
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As he thought he had bought time, possibly resting time, a massive fist makes contact with his face, launching him across the floor, making contact with a wall.
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Instantly he gets to his feet, shields flaring but already recharging. Without breaking pace, he draws his plasma sword and a handheld gravity hammer and re-engages the mob. [spoiler]Hold onto that guy for now, let the mobs swarm me. I have something big. [/spoiler]
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[spoiler]That wasn't the General....just an armored Berserker....[/spoiler] It burns. Everything that the mob had inflicted. Probably a broken rib and jaw, the pain just kept going, much like the force in front of him.
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The hammer swung back and forth, taking out several Dread at a time, and the sword to take out the occasional Broodmother or higher-tier foe. The adrenaline pumping through his veins cut off most of the pain, but he was getting surrounded once more. The focus beams on his shoulders fired as well, rotating behind him where his weapons couldn't reach.
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Your vision blacks out, huge hands covering your eyes. A Berserker was dragging you by your head. He tossed you around like a rag doll, heavily damaging one of your focus turrets and knocking the hammer from your hands.
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The hammer is magnetically pulled back to his waist, but his other focus turret retracts back into its slot. Shaking off the dizziness, Ginger runs back towards the Behemoth, unarmed, and discharges something from his palms. Completely disregarding armor, the sonic blast burst the creature's heart, and melted his brain. Coming to a stop by its corpse, Ginger pulled out his hammer once again for one more stand. He had underestimated these forces, true, but even they couldn't stand before what would happen next, could they?
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It was possible, very possible. This new wave of Dread was powerful, even though it was spread across a few galaxies. The onslaught continues, relentlessly sending wave after wave of Grunts at you. Berserkers smashed their way to the front as Medics stayed back, attempting to heal the front line troops.
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The crucible of combat was always decided by chance. By an inexplicably hopeful act of luck. By the untimely arrival to change the odds. Ginger knew that he hadn't been alone in this world, as he rarely was on any world. Always of late he was followed, watched, protected, by faces that he hadn't seen in centuries, yet remembered as if they were brothers... Though they were far closer to him than that. It started when his antigravity boots began compensating for a pull, just a very small tug, yet enough to reassure him. And then all hell broke loose. The antigravity boots amplified their power a hundredfold, and suddenly a massive force crushed all the Dread in a 30 meter vicinity of him. Further north of him, at around 3:00, a massive bolt of pure energy decimated the Dread lines. A Berserker that had charged Ginger brought his hands down upon his head, yet it's bones shattered upon the night impenetrable ray shield that had been cast upon him, and Ginger finished him off with a slash to the throat. Suddenly, his vision cleared, and his pain was replaced by the sheer desire to win. The Centurions had arrived.
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작성자: Spyglass 12/6/2015 5:13:29 PMThe one Centurion, Aries, specialized in melee combat, and he was caught with his shields down. Corrupted too quickly to activate his contingency plan, he charged one of his peers before he was crushed by sheer gravitational force. Odin, the Manipular, was protected by ray shields projected by Hermes, and was seen as the new highest priority target... Yet currently nigh invincible. Despite the thousand-to-one odds, at this rate the Dread would lose with a hundred thousand troops... Unless they could disrupt the shields. Ginger began targeting the Broodmothers, stabbing them with his blades or sniping them with his coilgun, his detonator primed in case his shields faltered.
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Zeus (the lighting one, duh), grabs two sharp, roughly cylindrical objects, and inserts them into slits in his gauntlets. Suddenly, thousands of joules rush out through the conductors on his fingertips, and fry the Dread surrounding Hermes. The Centurions begin closing in to protect their teammate, though keeping enough distance between them so that they aren't wiped out in a single blow. Loki grabs ahold of Hermes, and begins phasing him throughout the battlefield so that he can't be taken down by a Berserker, and the others follow him. [spoiler]There are around 11 Centurions, 12 if you include Ginger, and each is pretty powerful. Still, if you kill one more than I'm using my contingency plan. [/spoiler]
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Ginger runs over, gets Hermes up, and scrambles to safety. The others know what had just happened, and activated their antigravity boots as well. Zeus threw one last lightning bolt before taking off, all remaining 10 of them breaking the sound barrier as they soared further North. On the ground, Loki lay in a heap of bodies, his suit and ion generator ruptured. Some Phazon had begun to seep into his body, but though he felt himself slipping he only had to say two words. Two words, before he dined with his gods. "Valhalla bound" The proton bomb keyed to his vital signs, voice, pulse, and neural scan activated, and in a second, detonated, completely atomizing everything within thirteen miles, including him.
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[spoiler]This part is just explaining stuff[/spoiler] There was no need for a fire, really. They didn't require the heat or the light that it offered, but there was something a little bit more comforting about its presence. Odin stood in front of Ginger, nearly a foot taller and probably centuries older, with a salt and pepper beard and grey streaks in his hair, and deep purple eyes. He had earned the Manipular armor, and that made him more dangerous than anyone in that room combined. "You fight well brother, yet fighting without abandon is a good way to get us all killed. What if you had detonated that proton bomb as we were arriving, hmm? From now on, we fight as a team, and [i]I[/i] am that team's leader, understood?" Ginger gave the man a salute, before pacing the cave walls like his brothers. They couldn't hope to defeat the wave of Dread, not by themselves, but not without completely destroying the City, but they could stall them, make them bleed for every inch, until someone could help them. If they fought a war of attrition, at this rate, they could significantly weaken the Dread, but by then they'd all be dead... And that wasn't an acceptable option. Odin let them ponder for a second, before turning back, "That is why you, Hallwinter, are going back to the City. Go recruit some men, men who can fight, so we can rid the land of this blight. They know you, respect you, even." Ginger scoffed at that part, but listened on, "And that is why we need you. Now go, we will hold the line from here."
