He stood before the towering machine, its chest parting like a gaping maw waiting for its prey. The interior of the mecha was a claustrophobic place, where a myriad of monitors and instruments threatened to swallow the pilot seat in the middle. The padded seat looked comfortable enough, and the multiple belts weaving in a flower-like shape let him know he would not be easily removed from the seat by mundane force alone. A normal safety feature, he was told, but he could not shake the lingering fear that his own mundane form would not be enough to break the belts binding him in the steel maw.
The time for regret had long passed, though, and he swallowed his thoughts. The prehensile tail extending from his rear nudged him towards the cockpit, and with a simple twist of the tail, his body turned towards the opposite direction. As the tip of his tail touched the pilot seat, it snaked towards the hole on the seat and hid inside the artificial nest. With the tip grabbing the handle at its depth, he guided himself towards the seat until he could feel the soft pads behind his back.
“Welcome,” invisible eyes acknowledged his presence, and the feminine voice greeted him as he buckled the seat belt across his torso. Once the buckle was locked in place, the belts swiftly tightened, pushing him deeper into the seat. At the same time, the maw of the machine slowly but steadily closed, shielding him from the outside world as it was replaced by a large monitor. As the screen came to life, the outside world returned once more – or at least, the façade of the outside world, filtered by the system to show only what was relevant.
“Vital calibration complete. Adjusting ichorite formula… are you feeling well?”
“Hmm? Oh…” even though he knew it was normal, it still felt strange when the voice addressed him directly and personally, “it was my first time…”
“You don’t have to worry about it,” the voice comforted him. Even though he could not see its face – or rather, even though it did not have a face – he could not help but feel the voice was smiling to him. “Your practice performance is satisfactory.”
“Th-thank you…” it felt strange to be praised by the artificial intelligence, “but I don’t know if that means much in actual combat in actual mecha.”
“You can rely on me. You only have to trust me and do your best,” the voice reassured him, and he could hear the noise of a shunt sliding to the side. Encroaching into his peripheral vision was a semi-transparent tube, its tip capped by an elaborate fusion of needle and plug.
“Are you familiar with ichorite?” he shook his head, his eyes lingering on the injection tube. He did not remember much of the theoretical things, although he knew where the needle would go.
“I see. It might hurt a bit for the first time, but you will get used to it very soon,” explained the mecha, “the formula has been calibrated to your physiology. That should minimize the side effects… and I’ll be with you the whole time.”
“Please be gentle…” he could only whisper as he raised his shaking palm towards his collarbone, his fingertips touching the metallic socket embedded on the bodysuit and the skin beneath. Beneath the one-way valve was a short tube leading to his pale blood vessels. Its proximity to his racing heart meant any injection would spread across his body quickly, but if the stories of his seniors were of any indication, it came at a severe cost as well.
His thoughts were interrupted by the cold tip of the plug pressing against the socket. As its outer shell retracted against his bodysuit, the needle concealed within pushed forward into him. Only a small click and a tingling sense informed him that the injection would begin any moment. His eyes lingered on the tube leading into his body, and the unnatural pastel green liquid inside.
“Take a deep breath,” said the voice, and he complied, letting the cold, filtered air inside the cockpit to fill his lung. The extra oxygen soon seeped into his body, and the world around him started turning slowly. Before he could raise his voice, though, the machine began its work, and the artificial blood started flowing into his body. The faint sensation of the needle was immediately overwhelmed by a terrible burn, rushing into his chest and then his entire body. It was as if tendrils of cold fire were growing through his veins, crystallizing into invisible shards of glass shredding his insides. Any words within him were converted into a painful cry, his hands holding onto the arms of his seat while his tail coiled inside the hole.
“Keep breathing! You can do it!” by comparison, the gentle encouragement of the voice felt soft and warm, almost like the embrace of a caring mother or lover. As air continued to fill his lung, the terrible pain began to dissolve inside his body, leaving behind only pale paths marking his now-colored veins. A sense of unease continued to creep beneath his skin, a constant reminder of the peculiar mixture inside his blood. He certainly hoped that the painful spike was the worst of its side effects.
“Blood oxygen saturation level stabilized. You did well,” commended the voice, and he felt a slight tinge across his reddened cheek. Maybe it would be less distracting if he imagined it as a caress instead. He still had but his hands to wipe away the sweat and tears from his face, though. “Others are almost ready as well. We should be clear to launch any moment.”
“Right…” the mention of the launch stirred his heart again. However, it did not make his heart race as much as before – or rather, he felt his heart could not race even if he wanted. The thickened blood amplified his heartbeat, his pulse propagating through his body as he turned his attention to the monitor before him. Outside of this tiny, confined world, he could see only vague shapes in the darkness, enhanced by the display system. Still, he knew they were rows of mecha just like the one he was in, all hanging from the rails buried in the walls above their head. The rails led to the end of the long hanger of the ship, where faint starlight shone through the parting gates. Somewhere in there, as he was told, were the enemies that he would fight against very soon. “Just like in simulation…”
His attempt to convince himself was moot, though, as soon enough he heard the sound of gears grinding and turning against each other, and the first rows of mecha began to move forward before his eyes. Then, with the sharp noise of electric discharge, the veterans in their war machines were launched into the void with incredible speed, the sheer momentum shaking even the rest of the ship. He was told that the enhanced blood in his body would make the acceleration survivable, but now that he felt the force that would soon apply to him, he was not too sure anymore.
“You don’t need to be afraid. You will be safe under my care,” the voice soothed him once again, and he felt her touch from the pilot seat. Metal bindings emerged around his limbs and tail, holding them in place to keep them from moving during the launch. Once his position was locked down completely, one more metallic piece touched his skin – his neck, to be precise. The metal collar wrapped around his neck and pulled him gently into the cushy seat.
“Are you excited by it?” asked the voice in an unusually emotive manner. He could feel something caressing his skin beyond his view, like fingers circling behind his neck. Soon, her touch reached another socket on his skin right beneath his skull.
“I-I can’t help it! It’s my first time–” his words were interrupted by another wave of launch. With the ranks before him deployed, he could now see the starry void beyond without obstructions, expanding in his view as his mecha moved into launching position,
“You just need to follow my lead,” a sudden jolt penetrated his mind through the socket. A brief spasm forced his body against the restraints, but the metallic shackles and collar were enough to keep him from moving a single inch.
“I will make you feel good...” now, he could hear her voice whispering inside his skull, overlapping with that from the speakers.
“I–”
Before his mind could register the discharge noise, he could felt his body being crushed against the back of his seat. It was as if dozens of invisible bodies were piling on top of him, squeezing every bit of air from his lung and keeping him from breathing. The ship, once surrounding him completely, was nothing more than a quickly receding shape behind him, shown only on a side monitor as the powerful force and the restraints kept him from turning his head. His stressed senses felt the faint whirring sound from the bowels of the mecha, and the view began to turn as stars move past the monitor. He could see from the display that the mecha was turning its head towards the destination – minimizing profile from any incoming fire and aligning all the main boosters behind – but in the boundless void, there were nothing else to show his position, no one to keep him company before meeting his fate in the battlefield.
No one but her.
His senses slowly emerged from the boundless void once more. He could not feel his body, instead feeling as if he was a disembodied collection of senses floating in the midst of the void. Here, everything was concealed by a never-ending veil of darkness, with only dots of starlight piercing through the veil, informing him of his existence. Even though he could not perceive his body, he nonetheless felt the surrounding world.
A silent, cold world. Like drowning in dark waters. Faint motes of dust suspended in the deep sea. He could not breathe – but he did not feel the need to. There was no body to suffocate, no lung to grasp, and no mouth to scream. It was a desolate existence, where there were not even time to dull his panicked mind.
Eventually, his silent cries were heard and answered. Dots of light danced from the filament, slowly condensing into a vague, humanoid shape before his eyes. As he witnessed the avatar, a second sense woke up in him. The coldness began to melt, and he felt the warmth from the glowing light before him. For him, the warmth was way more than merely something comfortable – its touch let him feel his body once more, like a shadow cast from an intangible object.
“Can you hear me?” she asked. He tried to answer, but he had no voice. However, the voice still smiled as if she could hear him, as if she was reading his thoughts. Her hands reach out to him, the warm, gentle touch molding his senses into shape. He could feel his existence once more.
Even if it was not his form.
“I was worried your mind could not handle a different form,” she said, her fingertips tracing a round surface at his back. He wanted to touch her, to feel more of her, but he had neither hands nor limbs to do so. Still, his formless struggle elicited a chuckle from her. Her fingers completed the flat oval that was his form, tapering off into a tail, the first part that was truly his. Then, she breathed onto him, the wave of goose bumps letting him feel his body flowing forward in… something.
“I’ll slowly ease your mind back to the real world, through forms you’re comfortable with,” explained the voice, “I want to know more about you too… what do you see around you? What are you?”
“Me? Um…” it was a strange question for him, but it was a strange situation to begin with. He focused his mind on his newfound existence, perceiving his own shape and the nothingness that surrounded him. “I feel like… a stingray… am I swimming in an ocean?”
“Do you want to?” with an affirmative answer, she petted him with a smile, her soft glow infecting the void with a tint of light. The darkness quietly receded, and he could feel the flow of water around his new form, molding his mind into a strange, cold fish. “I don’t hear that comparison often… are you from the planets?”
“Hmm? Oh…” it took a moment for him to process her question. It was not something that his comrades in arms ask… anyone, really. As his mind immersed in her tender presence, his thoughts started pouring out unconsciously, telling her of his childhood when he was planetbound. How he lived in a land of perpetual storm. How he dived into the sea to evade the deadly gaze of the star. How he bathed deep in the calm waters as the heaven burned red. How he swam with a fever of stingrays, first to hide from predators, then to feel as part of a larger group.
By the time he realized, he had returned to the calm water that once sheltered him from the outside world. Around him, phantoms swam alongside him, all illuminated by the motes of dust suspended in the water under the waves. “It must’ve been beautiful,” remarked the voice, her hands sliding down his metallic fins as her body moved to embrace his form. Her fingers danced on his skin, gently holding onto him and sculpting him a pair of hands. Their fingers intertwined with each other, and with a playful giggle, the two began to dance. As she guided him, his body rolled and twisted around the currents.
“Ah… I was hoping I could have more time to know you better,” she let out a slightly disappointed smile as she noticed something. Her fingers held onto his palms tightly, leading him in the dance as it became quicker and more erratic. Even though he had no fins to move, he could feel himself picking up speed, the flow of water around him becoming more pronounced. With another turn, he moved aside just enough to let a bright pillar of water flew right by him, its warmth seeping into his senses and hinting at its true form. His thoughts did not escape her, though, as her face drew close to him, her own warmth kissing the tip of his nose. “Don’t worry. I will lead you to them, so that you can lead them to the hall of the slain.”
The dance between them continued as the hail around him became stronger and denser, occasionally interrupted by distant, muted booms. With every turn, her touch gave him back more of his body and senses, and he could once again feel his folded legs and the large shield on his back. Her hands lingered on his for another brief moment before leaving, the gentle fragments of her touch morphing into weapons of a warrior – a lance of fire, and a lance of light.
As she disappeared into the void, the gentle sea dissolved into the starry void once again, revealing the flocks of mecha and war machines beyond the mirage. His comrades, many of them piloting the same machine as him, transformed from their tailed disc form to a more humanoid combat form. Armed with a myriad of weapons, he could see the combat had already begun, with slugs and beams piercing through the void, intersected by bright clouds of fire, explosion, and lightning. Every one of them, he knew, signified someone had been chosen.
“I will protect you.”
As her voice rang inside his head, the swelling dread inside him melted into another surge of emotion, one that compelled him to raise his lance towards the closest enemy before him.
“So fight for me.”
The whispers sedated all his worries, and let his body and mind realize that doing what he must was not just a chore, but a reward in and of itself. As his weapon gathered its strength, the mounting blood lust alone was enough to make his hair stand straight.
And click.