“It won’t happen again.” Damn right it won't. Enjoy your surprise, you old fool.
The communication ended, and Sharp returned outside to the far nicer and more natural sunlight. Now, he thought, looking at a hand-held display showing the surrounding landmass, I suppose it’s time to run?
He wished he could wait for an emergency call or some other indicator that said HOME was experiencing technical difficulties, but he had to get away from here quickly and return to the Havens he knew. The thought invigorated him; any hints of reticence and malaise were slowly washed away. He exited his command post and began to slip away. Today was going to be a good day.
He had only made it a few steps when his half-track unit exploded with a deafening roar, the force to the blast hitting Sharp and any mechanical soldiers in the area and tossing them like toys in a perfect circle while a fireball rose into the air and singed everything in range with a wave of stifling heat.
Sharp was on his feet at once. He was a skilled Embracer and such a thing never had a chance at killing him. His treasured swords were unsheathed in an instant as he came to his feet and examined his surroundings. Other than the fiery hole where he had just been standing and the multitudes of mechanical soldiers who were in the process of picking themselves up (or in some cases, putting themselves back together as best they could), nothing could be seen to be any different. The rest of the visible army forces were still going about their tasks, oblivious to the goings-on.
Sharp’s first thought was an attack, but no one followed up the assault. Next he thought it was a malfunction, but no heavy weapons were carried in his post. Nothing on board would have ignited like that.
Lost in the confusion, he approached the wreckage and tried to ascertain what had happened. It was as he stood there staring that his entourage approached him quietly from behind.
Boroha Sharp had been alive for centuries. He had worked hard to master the Power as early in life as he could. The eternal message of Allen Kokuou was loud and clear at the time of his birth. Embrace the Power and heal the world. One of his bodyguards couldn’t move a hair’s width without him knowing, and by the time he was almost in reach, he whirled about and with a skill that took ages to master, succeeded in cleaving each one down in a blur of motions an untrained eye would never have discerned. Each sentry was in multiple pieces in almost the time it took for them to process the information that their target was moving and they should attempt a counterattack.
Then, systematically, each surrounding artificial intelligence in the area turned their attention to Sharp with one clear command.
Boroha Sharp had been used. He should have known better.
Each soldier charged him. Those with firearms had them up and began blazing away with any number of particle rifles, hand weapons, and whatever else they had at their disposal. Wave after wave rushed forward, attempting to shoot, grab, and generally harm the target of their new orders.
But this was no scared boy or harmless townsperson. This was an Embracer of the Power, and in a sudden blind flurry, that Power was unleashed with frightening effectiveness.
Short swords at the ready before the first malicious trigger was pulled, the natural awesomeness of the Power was summoned like a protective shield around Sharp, dispersing and deflecting anything that would harm him. He ran back to a tree line in the distance, the Power coursing through him and the blades he carried, aiding him forward at inhuman speed, slicing down any that got in his way with quick and astonishing effectiveness.
The trees gave him a relatively solid level of protection to his back while he dealt with the legions that came at him head-on. The years of practice gave him great focus very quickly. He likely could have summoned the Power even without his trusted weapons, but in a situation like this, he much preferred to have them in hand.
He cut across the empty space between him and the coming horde in a half-circle. Waves of energy resembling millions of blue electrical sparks bonded together by some unseen force emanated from the tips of the weapons. In an instant the Power spread out, cutting down each robot just as easily as his weapons did alone, and before many had time to process the event, they were destroyed. A battlefield of twisted silver bodies fell while the sounds of servos grinding and limbs clashing together filled the air.
Sharp had no time to admire his work. The piles of debris only slowed down the next wave, and this one was more than useless foot soldiers. Now the heavy arms and advanced thinking machines called Heralds were approaching, and although individually they were no match for him, massed in the hundreds they were a threat. The only reassuring fact was that they couldn’t kill him. They could do some serious damage, even crippling, but he would live. He had already injected the cure for the Herald’s neural inhibitor drug, so there was no worry there, but if they did manage to incapacitate him, they would likely take him right to Izuku.
He crashed into the trees behind him, running and dodging as best he could in the dense brush. The forces behind him had no such obstructions as they used the heavy weapon tanks and half-tracks to simply mow through. The nimble and intelligent Heralds were ahead of the pack and could move as quickly as Sharp. After only a few moments, the first few began outpacing him, reaching out with Ark 1s and firing randomly in his direction.
He realized they weren’t aiming for him, but ahead and around him,
