The Man of Iron Part 10
Yeah! Another...Oh goddammit, the last one was kinda' short too. Anyways, I guess this is good 'I'm not dead' proof. I'll try and write more sooner or later.
EDIT:...Who want's a special chapter for the 15 Watcher mark?
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"Let's take a journy into Atlas's dreams now, note that it's only about a few hours after he and Ashuri had the talk. Your not missing much." Smiled Grandpa, Joshua nodded, curious about his dreams.
Atlas slowly opened his eyes. He didn't have his helmet on, for sure. He didn't taste the dull metallic taste of filtered air, he didn't see the blue glow of his HUD, in fact, he didn't even feel his armor on. Only stiff, new, clothing. He lifted his hands so he could see them, no gloves. He noticed that he had black sleeves, he got up and looked at himself. Failing to notice the fancy room and bed he was in. He looked at the suit he was wearing. He touched his face, and they were wet with tears, he blinked twice. Unsure of what was happening. He looked around, finally noticing the fancy room, which he remembered, but couldn't quite put his finger on it.
He heard loud footsteps. For some reason, he couldn't identify how many there were, how heavy their gear were, only freezing fear. He finally gathered the courage to open the door. He opened it, finding several figures, transparent, they seemingly didn't notice him, even as they passed by him. The transparent soldiers seemed to phase from reality and imagination, back and forth. He followed them slowly. Not noticing that his clothing was getting more ragged, torn and dirty. Eventually, he stepped out of the front door. Seeing a war-torn landscape, soldiers taking cover behind sandbags and destroyed buildings, with the opposing force taking cover in craters and other capured buildings. He was then knocked over by an explosion, his vision quickly hazed as he was thrown through the air and by the time he landed, he was knocked out.
Waking up, he felt the tight grip of armor, the bright blue signals and maps of a HUD, he was lifted up by a strong young man, which looked aufully familier.
"Up and at em' boy! These guys aren't going to kill themselves." He grinned, he tossed Atlas a rifle and then turned to face the enemy. The man somehow summoned a sword made of pure energy, from his armored arm. An enemy jumped at him from behind, but the man swiftly cut the enemy in half, then rolled to cover and fired the, normally two handed assault rifle one handed. Atlas looked around, took a count of the obvious special ones, he only got a few though.
One, wearing a stealth cloak, seemed to appear from nowhere like a ghost, his gunfire always hitting home.
Another, atop a tall ruin, blended in with the stone ruins around him. Atlas could only see him when he fired his large sniper rifle, even then, it was for less then two seconds.
Another, a wolf perhaps? The wolf was a demon in melee combat. Tearing limb from limb with his claws and raw animal strength.
The last, with long purple hair tied up in a pony tail, wore a blood stained beige coat. Her fighting was like dancing, so elegant and beutiful, yet so deadly, he didn't even know how the person could do that.
At one point or another, they all had turned towards him and nodded, or given some sign of respect. If they respected him so much, what could he do? What was his special ability? A rifle butt ended that train of thought, it smashed into his cheek. The raw force of the hit tore the helmet off of his face, and left a nasty bruise. By instinct, Atlas's body had recoiled and launched itself forward, to be stopped by his left foor, and his forehead smashing into his opponent's head. The attack stunned his opponent, Atlas dropped his rifle and reached for something on his belt. It was a hammer. He flicked the switch and it hummed with energy, electicity then surrounded it ferociously. His opponent lunged at him, and Atlas attacked with an overhead strike. The strike hit home and the hammer hit the floor, bringing with it a head and a body, sandwiching it between the large hammer and the cracked concrete floor. He looked at the purple haired person, now clearly able to see that she was a woman of about his age. She 'danced' to him, leaving more then several bodies in her path, she then leaned over and kissed him quickly. Atlas blinked and everything was white, the hammer was gone, and he wasn't in armor anymore. He was in the stiff suit again. His eyes adjusted and they were a garden, with a mansion close by, the large tree's and flowers were so peaceful. He didn't get what they meant, usually his dreams had meanings, this one didn't seem to make sense. Until he saw the purple haired girl again, but this time, younger by a great deal. She giggled and ran towards the mansion. Atlas followed her into the large house, he quickly looked at the passing windows, he was younger as well. There was something near his hairline as well, he stopped running to take a closer look. There was a small tattoo of mechanical gears and cogs. He then noticed a large car. Several guards were holding a prisoner, the prisoner had purple hair, she looked back at Atlas with tears. Then she was pushed into the car and it drove away. Atlas touched his face, it was wet with tears. Feeling a great sadness, he ran into a room, and jumped into the bed crying. And slept.
Atlas awoke, breathing the dull metalic filtered air. He saw the customized orange symbols and maps of his HUD, the tightness of armor. He got up and fixed his armor that was shifted around during his sleep. He looked at the bed and noticed a few small strands of purple hair. He slowly lifted the covers and found Ashuri sleeping like an angel there. At first his mind buzzed around like a hive, wondering what to do, wondering what happened, but then he starting thinking rationally again. She still had all of her clothing on, so no sex, his helmet was tightly on still, no kissing, she still has her sword held tightly. She most likely just fell asleep right there. He tucked her in and looked around, there was a small makeshift bed, and they were in a small tent. Atlas took his weapons from the floor and walked outside, of course, they were in a forest, it was still about 5am in the morning. He noted that several of his more experienced soldiers were already up and patrolling around. He was in a camp, quickly set up to accomodate around three thousand people. In a few hours they would need to take down the camp, and move out again. Atlas took off his helmet, and held it in his right hand. He inhaled deeply, savouring the rich fresh air in the forest.