07-28-2017, 12:55 PM
“Field open!”
Might’s fists crashed against the barrier, and much like before, they dynamite impact usually associated with his locomotive offense struck a metaphorical brick wall. The barrier fizzled away as the hero dropped to his feet in front of his cybernetic adversary. His muscles burned, but he willed himself forward—willpower was something Might had in leaps and bounds.
A ki blast crashed against his chest and sent him sprawling backwards to the ground. Earlier, he could have shrugged the attack off and kept moving forward, but the battle had worn on both of the warriors. Seventeen, seeing the fleeting opening as one of his final chances, cupped his palms and focused his mind. Translucent streamers of red energy weaved through his fingers and coalesced into a crackling sphere. Funneling what he could into the surging ki attack, Seventeen caught the flashes of orange, but up ahead, Might was making it to his feet.
This would have to do, and if it failed, the cyborg knew he would be discovering what happens to dead primes.
“Kasenko-kaha!”
Fighting against the hero had rubbed off on the android, who found himself naming off maneuvers as if it somehow added to the effect.
The beam of orange energy screamed forward and crashed against Might, who had thrown up his forearms to block the oncoming wave. Seventeen didn’t waste time—he released the remainder of the attack without waiting to see if the beam would unbalance the ailing hero or not. The erratic sphere of ki screamed along the length of the wave and struck Might. In an instant, the block was flooded by another wave of dust and particulate, and Seventeen had to turn away and cover his eyes as the surge of fallout washed over him.
After the heat had dissipated, the cyborg lowered his forearm and turned back to face his adversary.
Might stood, even if it defied logic.
One arm hung limp at the side of his broad, muscled torso. Blood dripped and oozed from the ravaged forearm. Its matching appendage was charred but remained cocked at the side of the hero as he half-walked, half-limped toward the cybernetic warrior. Although heavily stained with his own blood, Might’s smile remained on his dirty, ensanguined visage. “Heroes never give up.” Might replied—his booming voice barely a whisper.
Seventeen drew the Power Sword and rushed forward.
Perhaps there was a little more left in the man’s tank, because he maneuvered away from the initial swing and battered the cyborg across the side of the head with his good fist. The machine-hybrid caught himself before he hit the ground, and after scrambling back up to his feet, he spun and parried a sluggish right hook from the hero.
With that opening, Seventeen stepped forward and thrust the blade up through the man’s stomach. There was some resistance, but eventually the tip popped up through the small of Might’s back. Fatal by mortal standards, the wound didn’t rob enough of the hero’s strength, and he managed to grab at the cyborg’s shoulder with his good. He squeezed, but the awesome power had already eroded. Seventeen wrenched the sword free and drove it through the man’s right lung, and even though he started to gurgle blood, Might remained on his feet.
The cybernetic warrior stepped back and looked up at the mountain of a man.
“You’ll return to these people someday, right?” Seventeen asked as he squeezed his right hand into a tight fist. Might, taking a moment to process the question, slowly nodded his head as he started to teeter. The cyborg held up his clenched fist and pointed a glowing index finger at the hero’s head. “This will settle your account with the Empire. Trust me, it’s better than the road I’ve taken.”
Might, understanding the man’s subtext, gave another slow nod. “Just… remember,” Might put out his good hand in an effort to correct his balance. He wouldn’t fall—No. “Remember… it’s n-never too late.”
“Too late for what?”
“To find… y-your inner hero a-again.”
“I hope you’re right,” Seventeen whispered as he took aimed and fired the concentrated beam of ki through Might’s skull. In an instant, the light went out in the man’s eyes, and his body pitched forward. The machine-hybrid rushed forward and caught Might before he hit the ground. Sliding down to the ground, Seventeen held the dead hero in his lap until he faded away into a thousand streamers of sparkling omnilium.
The corners of his eyes a little damper than they had been two minutes prior, the cyborg rose to his feet, brushed himself off, and silently made his way back to the barracks.
Might’s fists crashed against the barrier, and much like before, they dynamite impact usually associated with his locomotive offense struck a metaphorical brick wall. The barrier fizzled away as the hero dropped to his feet in front of his cybernetic adversary. His muscles burned, but he willed himself forward—willpower was something Might had in leaps and bounds.
A ki blast crashed against his chest and sent him sprawling backwards to the ground. Earlier, he could have shrugged the attack off and kept moving forward, but the battle had worn on both of the warriors. Seventeen, seeing the fleeting opening as one of his final chances, cupped his palms and focused his mind. Translucent streamers of red energy weaved through his fingers and coalesced into a crackling sphere. Funneling what he could into the surging ki attack, Seventeen caught the flashes of orange, but up ahead, Might was making it to his feet.
This would have to do, and if it failed, the cyborg knew he would be discovering what happens to dead primes.
“Kasenko-kaha!”
Fighting against the hero had rubbed off on the android, who found himself naming off maneuvers as if it somehow added to the effect.
The beam of orange energy screamed forward and crashed against Might, who had thrown up his forearms to block the oncoming wave. Seventeen didn’t waste time—he released the remainder of the attack without waiting to see if the beam would unbalance the ailing hero or not. The erratic sphere of ki screamed along the length of the wave and struck Might. In an instant, the block was flooded by another wave of dust and particulate, and Seventeen had to turn away and cover his eyes as the surge of fallout washed over him.
After the heat had dissipated, the cyborg lowered his forearm and turned back to face his adversary.
Might stood, even if it defied logic.
One arm hung limp at the side of his broad, muscled torso. Blood dripped and oozed from the ravaged forearm. Its matching appendage was charred but remained cocked at the side of the hero as he half-walked, half-limped toward the cybernetic warrior. Although heavily stained with his own blood, Might’s smile remained on his dirty, ensanguined visage. “Heroes never give up.” Might replied—his booming voice barely a whisper.
Seventeen drew the Power Sword and rushed forward.
Perhaps there was a little more left in the man’s tank, because he maneuvered away from the initial swing and battered the cyborg across the side of the head with his good fist. The machine-hybrid caught himself before he hit the ground, and after scrambling back up to his feet, he spun and parried a sluggish right hook from the hero.
With that opening, Seventeen stepped forward and thrust the blade up through the man’s stomach. There was some resistance, but eventually the tip popped up through the small of Might’s back. Fatal by mortal standards, the wound didn’t rob enough of the hero’s strength, and he managed to grab at the cyborg’s shoulder with his good. He squeezed, but the awesome power had already eroded. Seventeen wrenched the sword free and drove it through the man’s right lung, and even though he started to gurgle blood, Might remained on his feet.
The cybernetic warrior stepped back and looked up at the mountain of a man.
“You’ll return to these people someday, right?” Seventeen asked as he squeezed his right hand into a tight fist. Might, taking a moment to process the question, slowly nodded his head as he started to teeter. The cyborg held up his clenched fist and pointed a glowing index finger at the hero’s head. “This will settle your account with the Empire. Trust me, it’s better than the road I’ve taken.”
Might, understanding the man’s subtext, gave another slow nod. “Just… remember,” Might put out his good hand in an effort to correct his balance. He wouldn’t fall—No. “Remember… it’s n-never too late.”
“Too late for what?”
“To find… y-your inner hero a-again.”
“I hope you’re right,” Seventeen whispered as he took aimed and fired the concentrated beam of ki through Might’s skull. In an instant, the light went out in the man’s eyes, and his body pitched forward. The machine-hybrid rushed forward and caught Might before he hit the ground. Sliding down to the ground, Seventeen held the dead hero in his lap until he faded away into a thousand streamers of sparkling omnilium.
The corners of his eyes a little damper than they had been two minutes prior, the cyborg rose to his feet, brushed himself off, and silently made his way back to the barracks.
Quote:Seventeen used T1 Super Defense - Ki Barrier