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墨書 Inktalez
After the deafening roar, Archangel's feet lost their stable support, like a giant losing its strength, inevitably collapsing violently to the ground. Edric swiftly operated in the Control room, the control stick flipping between his fingertips. His heart was filled with an unwilling anxiety and panic, but faced with this sudden force, all efforts seemed to become powerless.
At the moment the mecha heavily impacted the ground, the entire body trembled, as if a thunderous roar shattered the quiet night sky. Edric felt a sharp pain coming from his back, his vision flickering, and the alarm in the control room sounded like a distant mockery, gradually becoming blurred. Feren struggled to maintain his balance in the intense vibration, the orc target he had aimed at disappeared before his eyes, replaced by a dizzying panic. What was thought to be a fatal blow turned into their predicament in an instant. The collapse of the mecha brought not only a physical impact but also a heavy psychological blow.
In the midst of the dust and debris, Archangel lay on the destroyed battlefield. Edric and Feren both felt an unprecedented sense of helplessness at this moment. Every movement of the mechs seemed to remind them that the battle was far from over, and their situation was more dangerous than ever. In this state, every second seemed to stretch into eternity, and every breath was heavy with weight. At this moment, Archangel was no longer an invincible war god, but a fragile giant, revealing their vulnerability in the face of this sudden disaster.
Edric lay on the cold floor of the Control room, pain and unconsciousness intertwining at the edge of his consciousness. The voices in his ears turned into merciless mockery, and the piercing ringing seemed to tear his sanity apart as if a thousand horses were galloping by. In the dim, flickering red light, the alarm lights were like prophets of doom, flashing incessantly, accompanying this disaster.
Outside, the heavy footsteps of the orcs echoed on the armor of the mechs, each step feeling like a heavy blow to his heart, conveying not just sound, but also an intangible sense of oppression. These thudding sounds, like the tolling of death bells, reverberated slowly in Edric's consciousness, reminding him that the battle was far from over.
In that moment, Edric felt both fear and helplessness, like an orphan abandoned in the darkness, with the world around him becoming unusually distant. Archangel, once an invincible war machine, revealed its vulnerability under the frenzied attacks of the orcs, and Edric himself, in that instant, felt a deep sense of helplessness and despair. Teetering on the edge of unconsciousness, he dimly realized that the cruelty of this war far exceeded his imagination.
In the Control room, Ariel's voice echoed from a distance, cutting through the thin air with extreme noise, intermittently calling out, "Young master! Young master! Please wake up quickly! We..." However, at this crucial moment, the communication abruptly ceased, leaving behind a dead silence.
Edric exerted all remaining strength, trembling as he propped up his heavy body. His forehead pressed against the cool control panel, each breath feeling like it was drawing out his last ounce of strength. In this endless darkness and despair, Edric gathered all his will and called out loudly into the Communicator, " Feren! Feren, are you still there?"
His voice was filled with urgency and anxiety, as if this sentence was his only hope, his only reliance. In this moment, Edric was no longer a brave knight, but a regular person longing for a response, longing to know if his comrades were still with him.
Outside, the battle raged on, with the orcs' roars, clashing of metal, and explosions creating a symphony of combat. And Edric, amidst the Chao'X, waited for a response that might never come.
Facing the silence and outward frenzy of the Feren, Edric felt an unprecedented pressure. The roars, crashes, and sharp metal scraping of the orcs formed the most piercing symphony on the battlefield. Even though Archangel's armor was indestructible, in this endless ocean, each impact felt like the most severe test. Edric knew in his heart that if his flesh faced these raging orcs directly, the outcome would undoubtedly be catastrophic.
At this critical moment of life and death, Edric called out once again, his voice tinged with a hint of despair and determination, " Ariel? Ariel? How is the mech's condition now?"
His voice echoed in the control room, waiting for the response of that mechanical soul. The external attacks grew more intense, each impact causing Archangel to teeter, but Edric's determination remained unwavering. He knew that only by maintaining their last fighting strength could they find a glimmer of hope in this desperate situation.
His heartbeat quickened with the mech's vibrations, all senses waiting for that crucial answer, the one that could determine their fate. In this moment, Archangel was not just a combat mech, but their final stronghold for survival.
In the fierce battle and intense shaking, Ariel's voice suddenly pierced through the noise, carrying an ancient and solemn aura. He mistakenly addressed Edric as "Lord Florens" and spoke in a tone that seemed to be recounting an ancient legend: "This is the battle we have longed for! We have endured great danger! At the last moment, we counterattacked in the face of adversity! This is the noble spirit of House of Heraldry!" His tone was filled with passion and nostalgia for past glory.
However, these words did not offer much comfort to Edric; instead, they filled him with a sense of despair. Just when he needed clear guidance and support from Ariel the most, Ariel fell into a confusion of memories again. Faced with the life-and-death situation before him, Edric could not rely on Ariel's muddled instructions and had to depend on his own judgment and the fighting spirit passed down from House of Heraldry.
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