Nexus Test Run - Week 2: Do You Even Know Why You're Fighting?
In the blue flames, the silhouette of the machine emerged hazily. It matched the lightweight frame I remembered. And the arms extending all the way along each section.
Different from the armament he used in the test match.
And different from what I'd seen in the game. Gabriel piloted a lightweight Nexus, but not by toying with opponents from untouchable distances. He was the type who wielded high-impact hand cannons at mid-to-close range, masterfully controlling the spacing.
But is that a rifle?
For some reason, it felt heavily skewed toward long range now.
> [Gabriel engagement data pattern 1 initiated. Beware of cruising mode dash. To secure minimum weapon distance.]
Listening to Rinne's support, I ramped up Fallen Angel's output. Gabriel's blue glow was drawing steadily closer when his voice suddenly cut in.
"......"
Fallen Angel's weapon range was shorter. Closer to heavy ordnance, so bullet drop and absolute weight penalties kicked in hard.
Tudududu!!
So Gabriel's burst rifle spat fire first. But...
Kwoong!
Not even a second later, Fallen Angel closed right in front of him and unleashed the bazooka.
Gabriel effortlessly sidestepped the blatantly telegraphed straight-line armor-piercer and said that. Pulling away, he hosed short bursts of rounds.
Did he ditch distance control tricks?
His maneuvers were blatantly just trying to create space. Probably Fallen Angel's monstrous agility forcing it. If he stalled or lingered in the fire net even a little...
That lightweight scrapheap would shred in seconds.
Looking closer, the armor wasn't pure lightweight anymore. Near-light but standard-grade with some protection.
Wonder if that'll hold.
I gripped the stick hard and cranked the output higher. Cruise speed climbed, flames dancing wildly in the air.
Kwaaa—
Fallen Angel's boosters belched blue fire too. Different generator principle, but visually similar. Yet the muzzle flares burned red, tinged with white. A bizarre mismatch.
Those clashing flames tangled in the sky, swirling up and down. In seconds, we crossed hundreds of meters in a brutal dogfight.
Pang! Pang!!
Innumerable rounds whiffed. Hits hovered near zero.
In the frenzy of battle, the brain devoured insane data volumes, sifting essentials. No hits made it all the more vicious.
"Pathetic excuses."
I mulled his words and spat them out.
"If you just wanted to win, say so."
Paaat— Speed surged. Surrounding structures blurred beyond recognition. Fleeting grazes, landscapes flipping in blinks.
Where was I now? Up or down? Inverted or right-side up? Under the night sky, where exactly? Spatial disorientation flooded thoughts.
Gabriel's voice came breathless.
"Didn't say that exactly."
My own voice came out strained. Still, Gabriel was holding his own impressively against Fallen Angel. Keeping distance, adjusting, occasionally diving in—veteran didn't cover it.
Gabriel's tone carried a strange excitement. Maybe some kind of awakened state.
"Just what I wanted."
Kugugugu— Two trails of fire crisscrossing beneath the sky. Before the high-speed Nexus duo, even incoming rounds looked sluggish.
Anticipate and move ahead of the bullets. In the downpour of death, the two Nexus danced like madmen.
Gabriel seemed to be adapting to Fallen Angel's patterns mid-fight. Realized there was no room for feints? Fallen Angel was too overwhelming for head games.
So he went all-in on every action. No room for doubt or hesitation—pure spinal reflex commitment once decided.
Like this...
Kuuu— My ears dulled with noise.
In the fight, I was gradually picking up the know-how for handling a machine capable of this high-mobility brawl. How to move.
Sure, the speed's insane.
Felt it back when clashing with Mastema in Fallen Angel. Even throttling back, the excessive velocity made it prone to runaway. Slide straight past the target, overshoot constantly. In millisecond, microsecond dogfights, fatal flaw.
But.
Overshooting wasn't inherently a penalty if you ditched point-to-point thinking. Stop fighting the inertia, ride it right—suddenly not a downside.
Paat— I let the machine's momentum carry me, sliding smoothly without resistance.
Zzaek!
Growing accustomed to the g-forces, learning to gently steer them. Factoring angular velocity for turns, motions seamless. Impossible maneuvers became possible.
Gabriel, watching Fallen Angel writhe grotesquely:
His machine was no joke either. Hard to believe it was Rank 27 caliber.
Tuwoong!!
As we both acclimated to the maneuvers, focus sharpened. Flying rounds targeted deadlier.
Kaduk!
Glancing blows or lucky grazes turned into real armor impacts.
Kwoong!
Mine were near-proximity fuse explosives—even a direct hit would crumple his frame, so nothing critical yet. But the shockwave from a close blast drew a low groan from Gabriel.
"Not seeing. Feeling."
Tududuk... Rifle rounds scraped Fallen Angel's plating. Durability down to 90%.
Gabriel's durability hovered around 50%. Factoring our mutual adaptation,
Gap probably wider than last test match.
As I thought that, Gabriel bellowed out of nowhere.
Like steeling his resolve, shouting to himself. He flipped to full aggression.
Rifle infighting?
Realized spacing was meaningless now? Just like me from the start, he dove into close-range chaos, brawling wildly.
Suicidal against heavy weapons.
But I liked it. Gabriel threw his whole body into the fray.
The battle's tempo shifted, flowing into round two vibes.
A new voice boomed across the channel out of nowhere, signaling a third-party intrusion. We both jerked in surprise, freezing for a split second—then instinctively yanked back distance upon realizing it.
Muzzles trained, we fired while tracking the new signal.
A Nexus IFF ping approached from afar.