AP(EX) Technomancer

I tightened my grip on the controls, my voice steady but firm. "This isn't just about power. It's about strategy. Let's see how good this genius really is."

The first Striker engaged, its sleek form darting through the air as it fired a salvo of energy blasts at the attackers. 

But Cason raised a hand, a shimmering barrier forming in front of them. The blasts dissipated harmlessly. My eyes narrowed as I analyzed the situation.

He was't just an elite senior—Cason is a combat specialist.

"Barrier generators," I muttered, my fingers working furiously to deploy countermeasures. "Let's see how you handle this."

With a swipe of my hand, I reprogrammed the Sentinels to target the plasma generators specifically. A coordinated barrage of missiles and energy beams erupted from the defensive turrets, aimed directly at the attacker's weak points.

The battle had only just begun, but one thing was clear: this wasn't going to be a simple survival test. 

This was a full-blown war.

I had trusted that my Vanguard Strikers would be enough to defend the fort, their robust defenses designed to repel even the fiercest attacks. Coupled with their unmatched offensive capabilities, they were my best line of defense. 

But what happened next shattered that confidence entirely.

As if Cason anticipated our strategy to target his plasma generators, his next move left me silently cursing.

A violent storm of plasma erupted from him, arcs of electrified energy ripping through the air and battering everything in its path. The blast radius was devastating. 

My Vanguard Strikers, caught in the maelstrom, were drained to less than 20% of their power in seconds, their energy cores struggling to stabilize.

Then, Cason made his next move. With a fluid motion, he summoned a weapon forged entirely of concentrated plasma—a sinister black scythe that radiated an aura of raw destruction.

"What the hell…" I muttered, my eyes locked on the screen.

With surgical precision, Cason wielded the scythe, slashing through the Strikers with terrifying efficiency. Each swing of the weapon left a trail of blackened plasma energy, obliterating the drones into nothingness. 

One by one, my Strikers fell, reduced to smoking fragments, their reinforced frames no match for the overwhelming force of his attacks.

The comms crackled to life, breaking my fixation on the carnage. Atlas's voice came through, grim and urgent. 

"Cason has another nickname—the God of Death. The moment he summons his Black Scythe, that's when hell begins."

I clenched my fists, staring at the screen as the last of the Strikers was annihilated. "God of Death, huh?" I murmured under my breath. "We'll see about that."

"Atlas, target his plasma generator. Let's see how well he fights without the power of that black armor," I instructed, my tone sharp with urgency.

"You think it'll work?" Atlas asked, doubt creeping into his voice.

"Have you forgotten that your ammo is invisible?" I reminded him, a smirk tugging at my lips despite the tension.

There was a pause before Atlas chuckled through the comms, his confidence returning. "Guess seeing the 'God of Death' up close made me forget I'm packing an SS-rank weapon. On it."

Just as Atlas fired, a series of explosions erupted. The first detonated on Cason's left armor, followed by another on his right leg. The impacts sent shockwaves rippling through the battlefield, but his armor proved formidable, sustaining only cracks rather than significant damage.

"Plasma Shield!" Cason shouted, and a shimmering barrier of plasma energy enveloped him, absorbing the residual damage with ease.

Cason's voice cut through the commotion, calm and taunting. "Nice toy you've got there, junior. SS-rank weapon, I presume? I underestimated you."

He chuckled, his confidence unshaken. "Cason Linus. S-Rank Plasmancer. Since we're exchanging pleasantries, let's introduce ourselves properly."

Before I could reply, Atlas jumped in. "Atlas Draxler. A-Rank Sniper Assassin."

Cason smirked, his gaze sharp. "A Sniper Assassin, huh? So, you're the one who just shot me. Impressive. And the other one must be Noah Adler—the Technomancer. Word is you're a C rank."

I kept my tone level as I responded, "I'm a C rank, alright. But don't think I can't kick your ass, senior."

Cason chuckled again, clearly entertained. "I've heard about you. Took down Gaius, didn't you?"

"Are you here to avenge him?" I asked through the Bastion's speakers.

He shook his head, his grin widening. "No, no. Gaius isn't worth my time. I'm here for you. I want to see what you're made of—a one-on-one fight."

I stared at the screen, incredulous. Was he serious? In the middle of a tag team battle, he wanted to duel? What was it with seniors and their obsession with one-on-one combat? Was this guy as unhinged as Gaius?

As if reading my thoughts, Cason added, "Don't get me wrong. I'm not a psycho like that bastard Gaius. I just want to taste what it's like fighting a unique awakener like you." His grin turned into a full-blown smirk.

Then, he upped the ante. "Here's the deal. Let me fight you one-on-one. Survive just three of my attacks, and regardless of the outcome, I'll hand over my tag. Deal?"

I glanced at the timer—23 minutes left before Phase 2 ended. Three attacks? That sounded doable. A grin spread across my face as I made my decision.

"Alright. Deal," I said, my voice steady.

"Noah! Are you insane?!" Atlas's panicked voice came through the private comms. "That's the God of Death we're talking about!"

"I'll survive," I replied confidently. "I've got my Mecha Suit."

And I wasn't bluffing. My Mecha Suit wasn't just some ordinary armor—it was EX-rank. Of course, no one knew that little detail. 

I quickly commanded the Codebreaker system to conceal its true rank, ensuring it appeared as something more mundane. Simultaneously, I released the safety limiters, unlocking the suit's full potential.

With the suit's systems humming to life, I stepped out of the Aegis Bastion, letting the thrusters carry me into the air. Hovering just a few meters from Cason, I could feel the weight of his gaze sizing me up.

When he spotted my Mecha Suit, he let out a low whistle. "That's some sleek armor you've got there. You juniors sure are resourceful—SS-rank weapon, S-rank fort, and now S-rank armor? I think I get why Gaius and his lackeys got wrecked." He chuckled, the sound casual yet somehow menacing.

I smirked. "Shall we begin, senior?"

He waved a hand dismissively. "Just call me Cason. Not much for formalities. I'm not a bad guy, and honestly, I'm only a year older."

I nodded, relaxing slightly but keeping my focus sharp. "Alright, Cason. Give me everything you've got. I'll tank it."