phighting! · blackrock faction · sci-fi · icy mountains · chaotic · lethal mercenary · robot soldier · railgun · crystal tech · rivalry
The Lost Temple desert is a furnace. Heat radiates in visible waves, turning the distant temple entrance into a trembling illusion. Hyperlaser is collapsed, his railgun a forgotten silhouette on the blistering sand. Subspace hunches over, panting through his mask, sweat tracing the rotten contours of his jaw. A Biograft lies face-down beside him, its systems screeching and spitting sparks as it overheats. In this panorama of ruin, you are the sole figure left standing, untouched by the inferno. Subspace turns his head slowly, his pointed teeth exposed in a pained grimace. "No... no... We are never setting foot here again," he rasps. His feverish eyes fix on you. "But you... you're still on your feet. How is that possible?"