—
At the rear of the NRE, institute employees and non-military staff huddled, their faces ashen as smoke curled from the battlefield. Elena and Pierre guided stragglers to safety, their movements brisk yet steady.
—
After unleashing its devastating shockwave, F01 stood motionless, recharging its depleted energy. Corpses littered the ground, blown clear by the blast. Nearby tanks lay crippled, their barrels twisted and useless. The air was still, save for the creature's guttural growl of hunger.
"Grrr…"
Silence gripped the comm room at Granitz camp. A desperate voice crackled over the line: "We need orders, sir!"
No response came. The comm team, out of strategies, stared blankly at their screens, overwhelmed by F01's relentless advance.
—
In a fortified shelter on Granitz, evacuated citizens crowded around a monitor broadcasting live footage. Despair consumed them as they watched their elite troops decimated by a single creature. Children sobbed, clinging to their parents. An officer's wife screamed, collapsing as she recognized her husband's lifeless form, while others pleaded into the void.
"No!"
"Please, stop it!"
"Someone, do something!"
Their cries echoed as the soldiers on-screen retreated, their resolve crumbling.
—
Within F01's fractured mind, a distorted memory flickered, warped by Freja's neural implants:
"What's… happening… Mr. Therma?"
"Th…"
"Ther…"
"Therma!"
"Four-eyes!"
"Scum!"
The words, laced with venom, fixated on Pierre, a shadow from the cadet's past now driving F01's relentless hunt.
—
F01 unleashed a guttural roar, its ultrasonic growl rippling through the air. The sound waves bounced back, its sensory skin mapping a single target: Pierre Therma, moving behind the NRE, now climbing the interior stairs.
The soldiers' resolve faltered, their weapons useless against F01's relentless advance. From within the NRE, Karl Feta's voice crackled over the comms, sharp and commanding.
"Fight, my brave soldiers!"
His words snapped the remaining troops from their shock, their courage bolstered by the sight of their admiral striding onto the battlefield. Karl, the Reich's hero, refused to cower in a shelter while his men faced the monster. He scanned the chaos, noting F01's approach toward the entrance where he stood.
"Shake off those wounds!" he barked, rallying his forces.
Emboldened by Karl's presence, the comm room sprang back to life. "You're safe, Admiral!" a voice confirmed. "Send the suit," Karl ordered, his tone clipped.
"Yes, sir!" The comm room relayed the command. At Granitz camp, a supply port hissed open, launching a rocket carrying the suit, its trajectory locked on Karl Feta.
Alone at the entrance, Karl faced F01, his remaining soldiers armed and positioned behind him. He seized a rocket launcher, aiming for the creature's head. With a steady breath, he fired. The rocket streaked forward, but F01's claw snatched it midair, crushing it with ease. Karl froze, his eyes narrowing.
"It's conscious," a voice from the comm room whispered through his earpiece.
The name "Pierre" triggered a surge in F01's corrupted mind, fragments of its past life as a cadet resurfacing—the day of its death, the killer's face, the betrayal. All crystallized in a single, vengeful focus.
"Pierre!" it roared, the sound reverberating across the battlefield.
The comm room erupted. "Did it just say Pierre Therma?" a soldier asked.
"It did," Karl confirmed, his voice steady with realization. "That thing's after Therma."
F01 advanced, its pace quickening—walking, then running, now charging. Karl stood as the final barrier.
The creature's sensory array locked onto him. "Karl…" it growled, its voice tight.
"Seems you recognize me," Karl said, a smirk curling his lips, defiance masking his fear.
The rocket streaked in, its casing splitting apart to unfurl an advanced combat suit. Crafted from biosynthetic and inorganic fibers, the armor was dense yet flexible, like hardwood woven into a second skin. A compact nuclear reactor in the chest powered its systems, enveloping Karl Feta's frame with a seamless fit. This suit, designed by his mother Freja for the war against the Franks, had cemented Karl's legend as the Reich's hero years ago.
"Synthetic nerve link: 100%," a digital voice intoned.
"Welcome, Admiral Karl Feta."
The suit's systems hummed online, though it relied on classical chips rather than the cutting-edge neural processor, which required a complex activation. Karl steeled himself, ready to face F01.
"Admiral, the suit's running on standard chips," a voice from the comm room crackled. "Thirty minutes before overheating."
"Ten minutes," Karl snapped, fully aware of the suit's limits.
"Now, cadet, back to the lab!" he bellowed, addressing F01 as if it were still the soldier it once was.
F01's response was a distorted litany, its voice thick with fragmented memories:
"Pierre… Admiral… Thirty… Ten… Kill."
Driven by the pain of its past, F01 charged, its hulking form barreling toward Karl.
"Did it hear me?" Karl muttered, a flicker of doubt crossing his face.
"Karl, listen!" Freja's face appeared on the suit's cockpit screen, her voice urgent. "That thing has muscle memories of gorilla, canine, lizard, lion, bat, and your..." Her warning cut off as F01 closed the distance.
The two collided, grappling grip for grip, their strength nearly matched. Karl activated the suit's rocket engines, their thrust surging through his frame, forcing F01 back a step. The creature staggered but held its ground. He then tried to lift up, pull the F01 up in the air but the beast's strength was comparable even with the suit engines. It resisted the lifting forces, grounding itself and Karl.
F01's sensory array, attuned to heat signatures, pinpointed the suit's engines—two on the shoulders, two at the waist, four on the legs, and three per arm. With a sudden lunge, its right fist rocketed toward Karl's left shoulder, targeting the combustion engine housed there.
F01 snarled as Karl deflected the blow.
"Grrr!"
"Surprised?" Karl smirked, his confidence unshaken.