2022-11-27: In Tartaros slumbers the Titan
- Log: 2022-11-27: In Tartaros slumbers the Titan
- Cast: Puru Two
- Where: Side 3 - Core 3 Ruins
- Date: U.C. 0096 11 27
- Summary: During the events of Dragon & Unicorn ~SHATTERING~, a very special guest awakens in the distance thanks to all of the newtype Trauma flicking the on switch.
The very special guest is the Psyco Gundam MK. II.
This cutscene takes place concurrent with the latter half of the scene 'Unicorn & Dragon ~SHATTERING~' (https://tinyurl.com/unicornwuhoh) Please enjoy if you would.
>> 0096-11-11, 2242 HRS SIDE 3 LOCAL TIME
>> CORE 3 RUINS AIRSPACE
The shattered husk of Core 3's colony cylinder lies exposed to the cosmos in two shorn halves, enshrouded in clouds of frozen mist and shattered steel. Vultures and thieves have long since picked clean the low-hanging fruit from the wreckage, leaving little reason for even the hungriest scavengers to come sniffing. It is a testament to the waste and the foolishness of the First Neo-Zeon War, one more broken headstone among many.
The shadows it casts are long, steeped in blood and stolen treasure. Haman Karn's autocratic rule. The Cicero Uprising. The collision with Moussa. The list goes on, likely longer than any onlooker would know.
Cloaked in the broken colony's shadow is a speck of twisted metal, drifting thousands of metres away from this monument to extinction. It is the remains of a spacefaring vessel, scarcely a rounding error on any sensor scope next to the cacophony of the shattered cylinder's signature. The design is sleek, like a khukuri of ultramarine to be wielded by some terrible giant; all rounded edges, and a great humped arch holding the ship's bow from aft. Pockmarked by weapons fire and weakened by years of exposure to cosmic rays, a few scarce bars of reinforcing tether one half of the ship to the other, and a yawning great hole lies where once the starboard turret once was. The best days are clearly behind this forgotten Endra-class cruiser.
Those best days are drenched in the same blood and terror as the dead colony it lies beside. A fitting end for the personal barge of Neo Zeon princeling Glemy Toto, it lies kicked to one side. Forgotten. Lost with its dirty secrets amidst the rest of this era's floatsam.
p2_qwf 0.000 0.000 0.000 0.000
p2_qwf 0.000 0.000 0.000 0.000
p2_qwf 0.000 0.000 0.000 0.000
_write($datelg)
Thousands of kilometres away, a battle is unfolding. So distant that it can't be seen with the naked eye. Wills clash, in the form of great iron giants, and vie for supremacy. Metal limbs clash, wielding swords of burning light. Souls surge and transcend the confines of the flesh, carried on the emotions of the young at the vanguard of this era's conflicts. A tragedy playing out on repeat. For one such young soldier, it is a play she has seen before. One she has played a leading role in, and finds herself thrust into the spotlight anew.
It is the moment of a lifetime's trauma resurfacing, a leviathan from the deep dark; unbound and cresting the surface with such force that the former member of the Glemy Faction's Newtype Battalion is lost for a time in the madness that follows. At the behest of the Red Comet's phantom, no less. A waveform becomes turbulent, unstable, limitless. Graph the function for despair.
p2_qwf 0.000 0.000 0.000 0.000
p2_qwf 0.000 0.097 0.194 0.772
p2_qwf 1.258 6.831 25.12 316.3
_halt
-----awake-----
i wi*l n*ver b* any**in* *ut pu*u t**
_init($cb)
%T%T%TBOOT SEQUENCE STARTUP (COLD) ///
PSYCO2.0 OS LOAD ///
In the depths of the lost ship lies a Titan half-assembled, in a cradle of wires and discarded tools. Easily in excess of thirty, fourty metres in height. Eight years, it has slumbered here in this small Tartaros, awaiting a signal. Silent. Sleeping. It now wakes.
-----KILL-----
The byzantium giant is bathed in the glow of its own operating lights, as weaponized trauma from a distant source scythes through its psycoreactive circuitry. Eyes of pallid lilac glow steadily in the aftermath, illuminating a fin-crest of burnished gold and highlights of rich scarlet. Steel strains and cables snap as one monstrous arm stirs briefly, with no air to carry the sound in this inhospitable tomb.
But it is unfinished, untended to, and largely unpowered. The surge of mental resonance from afar soon fades, and the lights upon the giant soon fade with it. All is plunged into blackness once more.
It is enough for now. Its master still yet lives... isn't that splendid? Perhaps they'll be reunited someday, and their fury will run raw through the circuitry once more. Just one... last time.
And wouldn't that be just wonderful?
---
On an old Zeonic frequency, codes and ciphers long since broken, a weak rescue signal begins to pulse. Little more than a beacon to hone in on and a tone... but infinitely more than the silence which has reigned in the shadow of Core 3 for all these years.