D6 roll: 2
| 1. ace of clubs |
|
A jolt runs through your SCS implant and down your spine. You brace for pain, but instead feel a dizzying euphoria as your unit's systems fully open to you. You and your CHVLR have acheived complete synchronization. You move as one. You think as one. [Pull from the tower] Do not discard this card - instead put it to one side where you can see it so that you will remember that you have drawn it. When you achieve complete synchronization with your CHVLR, your odds of surviving the mission are much higher. A 5 or 6 is now sufficient to remove a token. |
| 2. four of diamonds |
You marvel at how your base's host city has adapted to accomodate your CHVLR. Great towers and buildings shift and move on platforms to allow for swift launches, huge cranes hoist your equipment up to you. The whole city seems to hum and whir in response to you and your movements. |
23/9 07:45
Designation: 23
Unit: Canter 01
It was time.
I stood before the hangar, the familiar bulk of my CHVLR looming ahead. Canter-01, a machine built for war, for battle, for things I no longer understood. The sync order had come, clear and direct. No more defiance. I’d been given no choice this time. They had me cornered.
I strapped into the cockpit, the hum of the systems coming alive around me, buzzing through my body like the thrum of some colossal beast stirring from sleep. I could feel the cold touch of the SCS link as it latched onto the implant at the base of my skull. There was always that split second of hesitation before the neural connection locked into place. That moment when I wasn’t sure if I’d come out of this still me.
Then the jolt came.
A surge like fire and ice all at once tore through my spine, but instead of the pain I braced for, there was... something else. It hit me hard, but it wasn’t agony—it was euphoria. A dizzying, intoxicating sensation. My senses exploded as the neural pathways between me and the CHVLR opened wide. I wasn’t just controlling it anymore. I was inside it. I was it.
I moved, and the machine responded instantly, without hesitation or delay. My hand brushed the control panel, and it felt as though the steel fingers of Canter-01 were mine. I wasn’t separated by levers and buttons—I was one with it, fused in mind and motion. My pulse synced with the rhythm of its mechanics, our hearts beating together.
A strange thought hit me, something Dr. Mengue had once said during one of those Resonator sessions: "True synchronization is not just control—it’s unity." At the time, I thought it was just military jargon, some psychological trick to get pilots to perform better. But now, feeling this… connection, I wondered if it was something deeper. Was this what the Resonator had been preparing me for? To erase the barrier between man and machine?
I wasn’t sure if I liked how easily it happened, how natural it felt to surrender myself to it.
I pushed the thought away and focused on the mission. The screen flickered with the briefing data. Active combat zone, friendly units engaged, pinned down by unknown hostiles. Reinforcements were slim. We were the only heavy support capable of getting to them in time.
I flexed the machine’s massive limbs, testing the sync further. It was perfect. No delay. No lag. We were in harmony. My odds of survival shot up with every second that passed. In this state, I could handle anything they threw at me. I was unstoppable.
...
23/9 12:15
Designation: 23
Unit: Canter 01
The city beneath me shifted as Canter-01 and I made our way to the launch platform. I’d been through this sequence a hundred times, but today it felt different—heightened. The towers, the cranes, everything hummed and whirred around us like they were part of the machine, too. A city built to accommodate us, to serve us. Each movement of the cranes was timed perfectly, synchronized with our steps. I couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of awe, as though the city itself was alive, adjusting to my presence.
Great metal platforms rotated and shifted, allowing the CHVLR to move through the urban labyrinth with ease. Buildings and structures designed to move as we moved—quick, efficient, and seamless. It was as if the entire city was an extension of the machine, a living organism engineered to support our mission.
I had never truly appreciated it before. But now, with the neural sync still buzzing through me, I could feel the city’s pulse. Like a great beast, waking with me, ready to strike. Even from the cockpit, I felt connected to it all. The city and the CHVLR—both built for war, both waiting for me to command them.
For a brief moment, the grandeur of it overwhelmed me. I wasn’t just piloting a machine; I was part of something larger. The hum of the engines, the smooth movements of the giant cranes—it all responded to me. As if the entire world was built to serve the CHVLR. To serve me.
But then, a flicker. A whisper in the back of my mind, almost too faint to catch. The voice again.
Few understand the burden upon your shoulders.
It wasn’t human. But it wasn’t hostile either. Familiar. Alien. The kind of voice I’d heard before, but couldn’t hold onto, like a dream dissolving as soon as you wake. A shiver ran through me, the euphoria dimming for a moment.
And then, just as quickly, it was gone. Swallowed up by the city’s hum, the sync, the rhythm of war.
I shook off the chill and focused on the task at hand. I had a mission to complete. But the voice... that whisper... It wouldn’t leave me. It was as if something—someone—was trying to break through. Trying to remind me of something I’d forgotten.
The platform lifted, the final stage before deployment. The city was a blur below, the towers still shifting, adjusting to my movements. But it wasn’t the city that stayed with me. It was that voice. That distant, haunting voice. And the feeling that there was still something missing.
I was more connected than ever before, more powerful than I’d ever felt in this machine. But a part of me couldn’t shake the thought—was this the real enemy? This system, this machine, this city? Or was I fighting something far older, far deeper?
Whatever it was, the Resonator had tried to erase it. But I couldn’t forget.
Not yet.
Canter 01 initializing. Systems green. Edward Sander, signing off.
D6 die: 6
another 6! Edging towards active duty retirement!
Tokens left: 8
Much more hopeful :). Like the introduction of CHVLR stated, this story is not all about fear and despair. There's hope too! 8 more missions hopefully, until Edward can put all this behind him.