SABERS: Shadows of Ravena

The world was a haze of pain and fading light, but the sudden explosion shattered the silence, dragging Icarus back to the edge of consciousness. A wave of searing heat rolled over her, followed by the bone-chilling, guttural screams of the Nyrex. The sound pierced through the fog of her mind, primal and agonized, as if the creature itself had been struck down by something far greater.

Then came the thunderous roar of a weapon she knew all too well. It echoed with a power that filled the air, a sound that was as much a declaration of war as it was a reminder of the man who wielded it. Icarus's heart lurched painfully in her chest, and with the last vestiges of her strength, she forced her eyes open.

Her vision was blurred, but what she saw was unlike anything she'd expected. Approaching the wreckage of her Thunderbird was a towering figure clad in a new and formidable suit of armor. The olive-green plating gleamed faintly in the firelight, its angular design more menacing and militaristic than anything she'd ever seen him wear before. The armor was massive, each segment overlapping with reinforced layers, giving the impression of an unstoppable juggernaut.

The pauldrons were adorned with intricate markings, faintly glowing with an energy she couldn't identify, while the chest plate bore the faint imprint of a symbol she couldn't quite make out through her blurred vision. Thick cables ran from the back of the armor to the shoulders, pulsing faintly as though alive, while a crimson glow emanated from vents along the gauntlets and legs.

In one hand, the figure carried a weapon so immense it barely seemed real—a massive cannon-like firearm, its barrel still glowing red-hot from its last discharge. In the other hand, he reached out toward her shattered canopy, the sheer bulk of his armor making the motion seem almost mechanical. The helmet was the most terrifying part. Its visor glowed an eerie white, the eyes slanted into sharp angles that seemed to pierce through the smoke. A respirator-like grille covered the mouth, exuding a faint hiss of pressurized air with every slow, deliberate step. The gauntlet gripping the new form of MK99 larger than she thought possible, the weapon looking almost comically small in its grasp as it spat one final, echoing round into the Nyrex.

The creature crumpled with a shuddering groan, its wings collapsing like tattered sails as its lifeless body hit the ground with a reverberating thud.

For a moment, Icarus felt an unfamiliar pang of fear. The sheer size and power of this new form, combined with the cold, unfeeling mask of the armor, made him seem almost alien. Was this still Eilífr? Or had he become something else entirely?

The canopy groaned under the pressure of his grip before being torn away with frightening ease, the metal screeching as it yielded to his strength. The sound brought Icarus back to herself, and her lips trembled as she forced out a single word, her voice weak and broken.

"You're… alive…"

The tears came unbidden, streaming down her face as she tried to focus on the figure standing over her. Relief, disbelief, and an undercurrent of fear warred within her, but before she could process any of it, he moved.

The massive hand that had torn away the canopy now reached down with a gentleness that seemed impossible for such a monstrous figure. His free arm cradled her broken body, lifting her effortlessly from the wreckage as if she weighed nothing at all. The armor hissed faintly with every movement, the faint glow of its joints and vents casting an eerie light over her battered form.

Icarus's head lolled against his chest as the world around her began to fade once more. She could hear the distant sounds of the battlefield—the crackle of flames, the echo of explosions—but they seemed so far away now. Her vision dimmed, but not before she caught one last glimpse of him, his massive form silhouetted against the burning wreckage of the Thunderbird.

The last thing she saw before the darkness claimed her was his visor tilting down toward her, a faint, almost imperceptible nod as if to reassure her.

And then, silence.

The rhythmic, thunderous roar of the MK99 rumbled through the air, like a heartbeat reverberating in her skull. Icarus's eyes fluttered open, her vision blurred and unfocused, the world around her little more than a haze of light and shadow. Her head lolled to the side, the faint sting of dried blood pulling at her temple.

She blinked hard, her senses slowly returning. The first thing she noticed was the warmth—an unnatural heat radiating from the figure carrying her. The second was the steady jolt of each powerful step, a deep metallic thud vibrating through her as they moved.

Then came the sound again—the unmistakable roar of the MK99. Each shot sent tremors through her chest, the controlled bursts of the weapon's fire blending seamlessly with the rhythmic motion of their escape.

Her head tilted back, and her breath hitched as her vision finally cleared. Above her loomed a familiar silhouette, though it was almost unrecognizable. The massive, olive-green figure cradled her in one arm like she weighed nothing. Its glowing white visor cast an eerie light across her battered face, while the hiss of its respirator punctuated the sounds of chaos around them.

The MK99 was gripped tightly in his other hand, the weapon's muzzle spitting deadly fire with calculated precision. Each burst tore through the air, cutting down Extractants that swarmed in the distance. Despite the sheer weight of his weapon and her added bulk in his grasp, he moved with fluidity and purpose, the ground trembling under his armored boots.

Her dazed mind struggled to process the scene. Then, like a dam breaking, the events of the last few hours came flooding back in vivid, excruciating detail—the desperate mission, the Nyrex tearing through her ship, the crash, and the unimaginable moment she had thought she would die.

And then him.

She gasped softly, her hand twitching as she tried to reach out toward him. Her voice was weak, hoarse, but audible. "Eilífr…"

He didn't look down, his focus unwavering as he continued firing the MK99. Each shot was deliberate, his visor scanning the battlefield for threats. The Extractants didn't stand a chance—his every move was a masterclass in controlled destruction, the embodiment of war given form.

For a moment, her awe outweighed her confusion. How had he survived? What was this monstrous form he now bore? But those questions faded as a wave of relief washed over her. He was here, alive, and pulling her out of the nightmare.

The warmth she felt wasn't just from the heat of the battle—it was from him. The unyielding presence of the man she had thought she'd lost forever, now shielding her from the chaos with an almost frightening ease.

Her voice trembled as she whispered again, her hand weakly brushing against his chestplate. "You're alive…"

This time, he glanced down, just for a second. The glow of his visor flickered faintly, a brief acknowledgment of her words before he returned his focus to the fight. The MK99 roared again, its thunderous blasts cutting down a group of Extractants that dared to move too close.

Tears welled in her eyes, her body weak and aching, but her heart pounding with a mix of emotions she couldn't untangle—relief, fear, and awe all colliding as she watched him. He moved with the purpose of a machine, but she knew better. He wasn't just a weapon. He was Eilífr, the man who had defied death more times than she could count, the man who had believed in her when no one else had.

And now, he was saving her life once again. As the world rocked and blurred around her, Icarus clung to the faint grip of consciousness, her battered body cradled effortlessly in Eilífr's massive armored arm. Every step he took was a thunderous declaration of dominance, his towering frame moving with an unshakable sense of superiority through the ruined streets of Seretine. The distant screams of the desperate and the guttural howls of the Extractants became the soundtrack to their harrowing journey, but none of it seemed to faze him.

Her thoughts, muddled by pain and exhaustion, couldn't help but be drawn to him. How could someone move with such precision, such control, while carrying the weight of another person—while also wielding a weapon as massive as the MK99? Each stride was powerful yet calculated, the ground trembling under his weight but his movements as fluid as water.

She watched through half-lidded eyes, her breath catching each time the Extractants came too close. They lunged from the shadows, their malformed limbs clawing at the air as they rushed him. Yet, he never hesitated. With a swift twist of his hips and a swing of the MK99, he would crush their skulls or shatter their spines. The weapon, designed to unleash hell at long range, was equally devastating in his hands as a blunt instrument. The sickening crunch of bone and the spray of ichor were reminders of his brutal efficiency.

More than once, Icarus thought the end was near. A pack of Extractants emerged from a collapsed building, flanking them on all sides. She could feel their malice even in her weakened state, their guttural roars rattling her bones. She braced for the worst, her heart racing as she imagined their claws tearing through what was left of the Thunderbird's pilot.

But Eilífr was faster.

With a single fluid motion, he pivoted on his heel, bringing the butt of the MK99 down onto the first creature's skull, flattening it with a wet crunch. The weapon's barrel swung upward, catching another in the chest and sending it flying into a wall with enough force to crack the concrete. He spun again, his combat hand lashing out to grab a third by its throat. With an effortless squeeze, the creature's neck snapped, its lifeless body crumpling to the ground.

Each strike, each move, was executed with terrifying precision as if he were choreographing a brutal dance of destruction. The Extractants fell like chaff before the wind, their attempts to overwhelm him met with an unrelenting force they couldn't hope to match.

Icarus's chest tightened as she watched him. He didn't just fight—he dominated. There was no hesitation, no falter in his step, no sign of strain despite the burden of carrying her. The confidence he exuded, the sheer sense of invincibility, left her both awed and terrified.

This isn't just dominance, she thought, her dazed mind barely keeping up with the chaos around them. This is... supremacy.

Even as more Extractants closed in, their claws screeching against the armor plating of nearby vehicles and walls, he pressed forward. His visor glowed like a beacon in the darkness, casting an otherworldly light on the carnage. The MK99 barked thunderously, sending ripples of fire through the air that illuminated the twisted faces of the enemy before they were torn apart.

The few moments of respite they had were filled with eerie quiet, broken only by the sound of his heavy, deliberate steps and the faint hiss of his suit's life support systems. Each time she looked up at him, her awe deepened. He wasn't just a soldier—he was a force of nature.

As they neared the evacuation point at the far end of the city, a final swarm emerged, their shrieks echoing through the ruined streets. Icarus's heart sank, her breath catching as she saw their numbers. There were too many, far too many.

But Eilífr didn't slow. He didn't hesitate. With her cradled securely against his chest, he charged into the fray, his massive frame crashing through the first wave like a wrecking ball. The MK99 swung like a hammer, shattering bones and cleaving flesh with unrelenting brutality. Each movement was so precise, so efficient, that it felt more like a machine at work than a man.

For a fleeting moment, she thought he might falter. She thought even he might tire. But as they broke through the last of the swarm, leaving a path of devastation in their wake, she realized something that made her throat tighten with emotion.

He hadn't once stumbled.

Not under her weight. Not under the strain of battle. Not under the oppressive odds stacked against him.

And as they reached the glowing safety of the evacuation point, Icarus's gaze lingered on him, her heart filled with awe, terror, and an overwhelming sense of gratitude. He was her savior—her indomitable, unstoppable savior. And no matter what nightmares they faced, she believed, in that moment, that nothing could bring him down.