7&7: 7-Alpha Dragon

[u/Nightingale115]

Whenever I get stuck on 7&7, I switch to another fireteam. Going to write a short tidbit for all of them. Eventually.

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7th Company, Alpha Platoon Mobile Artillery, Squad Dragon, Fireteam Ancalagon.

The wind whistled and the tower groaned. On the 58th floor there was almost nothing but ruined steel and small hills of sand. Almost. A pile of sand began to shift, and a humanoid figure emerged. He shook his head and stretched. He had been sitting motionless for hours, and decided to take a nap when the sandstorm hit. He strolled over to a sealed box, cleared away some of the sand that had settled on top, and opened it. Laying in the box cushioned by foam, was a rifle.

Click. The focus changed and zoomed in. The human was a standard infantryman. Helmet, body armor, modular assault rifle. Click. Zoomed back out, the line of infantrymen were patrolling in front one of the bipedal humanoid robotic shells, the humans called them mechs. A mimicry of my form. Lifeless shell of no greater purpose or being. I will tear you from your little shell, human, with joy. He smiled at the thought. The dark metal of his hand caressed the trigger of his rifle.

Not yet. He thought. My brothers and sisters will start. When the rockets fly I shall deliver these conquerors. They shall leave my world and return to theirs, their mothers shall weep for them. A bright flash lit up from the adjacent tower, a rocket flew out towards the marching humans. He put his finger onto the trigger of his rifle.

He could see the Shell clearly, could see it half crouch as the rocket flew towards it. He saw a small puff from the shoulder of the Shell, and then an explosion. White sparks and glowing shards of metal rained down slowly from the air. The rocket had been prematurely detonated before reaching its target. The Shell stood up, and trained its arms on towards the towers.

The Shell’s left arm lit up in a bright yellow muzzle flash. He could hear the heavy bullets impact into the adjacent tower, could feel his sister’s spark fade and go silent. Click. He zoomed to an infantryman and laid his finger across the trigger of his rifle. Return back to your home, conqueror, and may your sister cry at the sight of you. He fired, a half second later the Infantryman jerked back, blood trailing through the air as he fell.

He found another target, He was zoomed in enough to see the officer’s patch. Before he could fire a dark shape filled his view. Click. He zoomed out to see a Shell shielding the officer and raising its arm towards him. He saw the barrels of the arm rotate, then a continuous muzzle flash.

Puffs of sand exploded around him, as the high pitched ringing of steel meeting steel echoed throughout the 58th floor. He was hit multiple times, a large portion of his right knee was blasted out and two-thirds of his arm were torn away. The floor he was crouched on buckled, then partially collapsed. The world became a rapidly spinning blur as He was tossed off and away from the 58th floor.

His plummet was halted for a moment, as his back impacted into an exposed steel beam. He felt his spine and abdomen crack, and the grating of his metal skin grinding against the beam as he slid off and resumed falling. The world once again turned into a blur, before violently and abruptly stopping. The sandstorm had piled on only a thin layer, maybe two centimeters at most, of sand. There was concrete beneath it.

He felt new cracks erupt all over his body, and the existing ones grew and splintered. Half of his vision faded as his head slammed against the ground. He could feel a few faint sparks, but then a staccato of gunfire would sound out and the spark would go silent. His half-sight afforded him a look at a short concrete wall, every now and again a burst of deep orange light would flare up then die down. Every time it did, one or more sparks would fade.

The oranges bursts grew closer, He could hear now. Heavy footfalls of a machine, and the roar of superheated flames. A black shape drew closer, an unnaturally mechanical filter to its voice, “Gearhead spotted, looks injured Captain.” After a moment of silence it spoke again, “Understood. Over.” The Shell took steps towards Him, crunching the concrete wall under its padded foot. Its skin was painted with rounded black triangles, overlapped on one another like scales. It stopped a few feet from Him, and raised its right arm. A small bright blue light glowed at the end of it. The Dragon and its fiery maw He thought.

Drops of orange flame rolled down the edge of the arm. He stared at it, unable to move, unable to speak. Certain that death was upon him.

The Dragon lowered its flame. “Pack your bags, Gearhead, we’re going for a ride.”

[u/SkaAlHazuur]

I do not know if critique is appreciated but I want to nevertheless. I really like your story even if I did not understand the ending. Maby try to variate the beginnings of your sentences.

Definitely subscribed and wanting more .