Greg Vs Server 8-9

The Cerberus Frame struck Wainright Avenue, the composite armor and servo muscle transferring kinetic energy into the street in a single calibrated pulse, and the street failed exactly to predicted tolerance.

Rain hammered his body in horizontal sheets, each droplet ricocheting from hydrophobic plating in atomized halos that diffused infrared returns. Visibility: 3.2 meters unaided, 11.4 with predictive ghosting. 

Wind gusts topped eighty kilometers per hour, shifting vector every seventeen seconds—enough to alter free‑fall trajectories for unguided rounds. Armsmaster marked ballistic deviation on an overlaid grid as he pulsed a status ping to the Protectorate net, pinging each Armband worn by a Protectorate hero. Alexandria and Legend returned confirmations within latency. Eidolon did not transmit. Network integrity fair; potential communication dropouts.

Leviathan moved forty‑eight meters due west, body shearing through two‑story storefronts with no perceptible friction. Water around the Endbringer moved differently, dangerously, to the point where one had to monitor nearly every stray 

He opened a channel. “Legend, right sweep incoming. Shield line exposed.” The hero did not wait for acknowledgement; Legend incorporated the correction two seconds later, his luminous figure ascending thirty meters and banking to draw aggro.

Armsmaster tilted  ten degrees forward, and shifted his frame into speed mode. The suit rerouted energy from strength capacitors to joint servos; jump jets cycled for pulse ignition. He ignored the growing heat load because the fight would not last long enough for thermal exceedance to matter. He raised the arm‑mounted coilgun, fed a three‑round burst of 3 millimeter tungsten‑core slugs across Leviathan’s line of sight. The Endbringer’s motion pausing by seventy milliseconds provided Legend room to angle a photonic barrage across the chest. Light energy lanced, water converted to expanding vapor, and Alexandria capitalized—punching Leviathan’s head with enough force to sound off like a dozen explosions at once. Pressure shockwaves ruptured the façades of empty buildings and hydrokinetic backwash detonated storefront glass.

Legend’s second volley missed as Leviathan twisted, tail whipping with enough force to send a wave directly his way, but Armsmaster was ready.

Phantom Displacer, Initialize.

Micro‑coils compressed local space, the air around him warping as his suit transferred itself twenty meters instantaneously. The shockwave from it cracked the storefront windows nearest him; the sudden warping of space costing him nearly nine entire percentage points off his power‑cell reserve. Acceptable.

He landed after the tail sweep tore through the space he’d just been, a powerful wave slicing through everything.

His right gauntlet fired a spike‑cable, tungsten tip boring into Leviathan’s right knee joint a fraction before the Endbringer completed rotational momentum. Grapnel torque shifted Leviathan’s mass by point‑seven degrees; not much, but enough that the tail’s scything arc overshot the melee cluster before it could take out a dozen other capes.

Instead of the defender line, it carved a new trench in the flooded asphalt.

Armsmaster squeezed the trigger on the wrist launcher and a plasma flechette streaked out, embedding into Leviathan’s chest

Alexandria’s next strike followed brutal, singular geometry: an upward elbow that traveled less than thirty feet but displaced thirty tons of water. Leviathan reeled, an opening measured in heartbeats, and Armsmaster extended the halberd, the carbon‑titanium haft telescoping with servo‑assisted snap, blade humming with a vibratory edge that could slice through steel.

With the slightest shift, he committed to strength mode. Capacitors dumped power into artificial sinew as ozone bled from vent ports. He stepped in, rotated hip and torso, and drew the blade down Leviathan’s flank. The cut scored seven centimeters deep before vibratory fields refused to go any further.

Behind him, a screaming chorus rose. Voices, civilian. Possibly a rooftop vantage had collapsed. Non‑mission essential. He flagged the matter and sent it to the Rescue side to handle.

Eidolon descended in the periphery, green aura swirling. Power manifestation ambiguous—likely mass‑canceling.

Leviathan pivoted and the Endbringer’s tail splintered a city bus into curling metal, propulsion vector aimed toward a cluster of less‑armored capes. He calculated predicted casualties and jump jets erupted, directional nozzles blasting; pavement ripping into rubble fragments. 

The kinetic payload of his blunted halberd slammed into Leviathan’s side twenty‑three meters from origin, intercepting a charge path. He spun his halberd into his free hand and a spike shot out, grapple system and jump jets pulled him several dozen meters away and out of the path of a water blast that would have pulped him inside his armor.

Eidolon unleashed a column of coherent plasma. Spectral output oversaturated sensors, forced automatic polarizers. Plasma parted a torrent; water becoming steam in a fraction of a second as Eidolon drifted back. Armsmaster recorded Eidolon power selection inefficiency: moderate. 

Halberd braced, he launched again: jump jets along with phantom displacer overlapped, consuming nearly another ten percentage points of power but rewarding him with near‑instant presence on Leviathan’s right shoulder. He swung downward and the blade bit down into Leviathan’s flesh. Power reserves flashed yellow—seventy‑two percent. Enough for two more displacer cycles, or eight jet bursts, before he risked half-power. He prioritized long‑term engagement: shift back to speed mode to preserve energy, maintain mobility.

Eidolon flew directly overhead, hands held out in front of them as space visibly distorted around the cloaked hero. Armsmaster’s eyes narrowed as a new power manifested—gravity lens? 

Whatever it was, the air seemed to thicken around the Triumvirate hero, rain slowing to a vertical crawl within a ten-meter sphere. 

Leviathan entered the field, mass effect rippling skin like storm under tarp. Endbringer speed halved. A momentary advantage, emphasis on momentary. Armsmaster toggled strength mode again, sprinted—servo hydraulics pumping like rail pistons in miniature as each stride cracked pavement. He timed his halberd thrust with Alexandria’s descent punch; instrument co‑ordination achieved perfect ninety‑degree offset, maximizing shear stress. The blade penetrated deeper this time, an entire twenty centimeters, until resistance matched the torque plateau, until he withdrew, launching himself back quickly before Leviathan could retaliate. 

Status overlay updated: White Knight—down. Armband beacon offline. He acknowledged that, regretful as it was.

Leviathan recalibrated, the Endbringer’s tail flexing.

Charge posture identifiable: low center-of-mass lean, hips lowering, dorsal fin alignment. The classic trench‑carve attack, one of Leviathan’s standard moves. Predictable. Target vector: through melee cluster toward seawall, angle 122 degrees. He modeled the  impact arc. If allowed, trajectory would slice rescue lines, compromise containment, and drown any attempt at pushback. 

He rerouted power lattice: durability and strength simultaneously. Efficiency dropped, but survivability rose. Forty‑one subsystems adjusted: gyro dampening, skeletal reinforcements, alignment thrusters. Halberd folded to magnet mount—not designed for pure block. He locked feet, engaged boot anchors.

He opened his comm. “Alexandria, backup intercept. Five‑meter lateral right. Legend, provide follow‑through photon blast post impact.” 

Eidolon’s new power dropped: a swirling stasis bubble that trapped rain midair, turned droplets into suspended globes. Leviathan slowed again. Armsmaster exploited that as he launched three micro-missiles the Endbringer’s way. Three concussive implosions collapsed water inward, focusing shock into tissue.

He pivoted again as Leviathan righted posture. The monster’s tail was drawn back, but the tactic changed: spinning whip to clear defenders.

He was a defender.
HUD flashed red: Alexandria struck hard, thrown across boulevard. Impact cratered building facade. Vital feed stable but decreased movement. He charted gap in formation: legend alone on aerial offense, Eidolon mid‑power build, ground line thin. He moved to plug.

Jump jets fired at diminished thrust—loud, ragged, but adequate. He crossed to flank Leviathan’s knee, spike‑cable ready to plantar anchor again if needed.

Internal query: fatigue? He didn’t have the chance to wonder as another notification tore his attention away. Suit heat: 93 degrees C internal near shoulder.

With barely a thought, Armsmaster diverted coolant from thighs. Lower locomotion cooling reduced; speed penalty of three percent. Worth the cost.

Rain volume decreasing slightly—wind shift latitudinal. Good for ballistic accuracy. He tagged ballistic teams to resume heavy ordinance.

Endbringer posture changed. He tracked dorsal spines flattening, water tension along edges spiking—a hydro‑blade ripple effect pattern. Next assault likely high‑velocity water blades, known decapitation hazard for unarmored. He opened a broad channel: “Incoming hydro‑cutter grid. Scatter.” Voices complied.

He triggered halberd secondary—the haptic shield disc and the magnetic plasma arc generated atwo‑meter barrier. Water blades sheared across, heat converting them to vapor. 

Now—power at sixty-five percent. He flagged withdrawal. Mission still in progress but suit cannot maintain prime role. He routed drones to autonomous harassment routine, synced with Legend.

Information complete. Seven tools not yet deployed. Three emergency systems locked—final fallback.

Five pushes left before suit exceeds tolerance. He logged that information and accepted it. He recalibrated gyros, prepared.

He moved.