Armored Gensokyo 49

Sparks flew as multiple mechanical arms darted through the air, welding, cutting and realigning as Nitori bent to her task, her goggles ablaze with reflected light.

“And you’re SURE this will work?” She yelled across the gantry, at a figure in red and blue.

“I AM!” Kanako shouted back, her hands racing across the keyboard, self-image forgotten as she glared through her glasses at the screen of her terminal, before continuing in a much lower aside. “…mostly, anyway…”

“I HEARD THAT!”

“Look, it makes sense, all right?!” She gave a harried response. “Hustler seems to have locked himself into a dedicated loop, aimed solely at the eradication of whoever that blue machine is. I’d seen something similar in his coding when I sneaked a look before but-”

“The point, Kanako!” Suwako darted past, hands glowing as she struggled to repair or reinforce any overstressed sections.

“He’s completely zeroed in on that machine!” Kanako snapped. “Meaning he’s ignoring any other external information, like say, us SCREAMING AT HIM THAT THE SMALL BLUE FAIRY HE SEEMS TO CONSIDER A FRIEND IS ACTUALLY NOT DEAD!”

They all paused for a moment, as if waiting hopefully…then as one of the coolant lines ruptured, superheated steam hissing everywhere as it lost the battle against Hustler’s increasing output, resignedly leapt back into action.

“It’s like I didn’t just finish telling you all that wouldn’t work.” She deadpanned.

“So…why do you not simply destroy the main connection?” A quiet voice asked, and the war goddess almost leapt out of her dress in fright as Momiji appeared next to her, one hand on her sword. “I do not profess to understand half of the intricacies of your operation here, but would that not be the most effective course of action?”

“…under normal circumstances, it would be.” Kanako replied grudgingly, once her heart had stopped pounding like a jackhammer. “But in this case, there’s too many unknowns. I told Hatate and I’m telling you, unless you want to explain to your bosses why all the potential benefits I promised them for assisting in Hustler One’s reconstruction went up in SMOKE, we’re not pulling the plug!”

She stopped, looking around with a scowl.

“Where is that damned bird anyway…?”

“I think that would be her now.” Momiji said diffidently, and ducked as the twintailed tengu darted past, brandishing her fan as she struggled to keep a steady flow of air moving through the hangar. Clinging on to her console, Kanako peered intently at the readings, ignoring the storm of papers whipped up by Hatate’s passage.

“That’s good Hatate, just keep that up for a few minutes longer!”

An exasperated wail was her only response, which also went ignored as anako raised her own hands and aimed two high powered blasts of wind at two junctions that were approaching critical temperature. Steam hissing off of them as they cooled, she went on, talking to Momiji with an almost absentminded air.

“With that said, the best I can do is rig up a data spike of our own, something that’ll physically AND electronically break into Hustler’s closed circuit. It won’t last long, probably just a few seconds at best, but it’ll force him to divert even a small fraction of his attention towards it.” Squinting at the red and black head just barely visible through the shimmering heat haze, Kanako briefly wished she’d worn something slightly more revealing today, if just to make this insane temperature just slightly more bearable. Kappa water magic would have been ideal, but that much steam and moisture around electronics that even she could barely understand? Shaking her head, the war goddess looked back at the wolf tengu.

“With any luck, that’ll give us an opening for Lana Nielsen to break back in and call him off.”

“She cannot do so already?” Momiji frowned. “I had thought them joined at the hip.”

“Me too.” Kanako replied grimly. “But given that I know damn sure SHE knows fairies can’t be killed, and Hustler One is still tearing the blue unit a new one…I’d say it’s safe to assume she’s as locked out as we are. Worse, maybe, because if he’s doing this much damage to OUR systems, then I shudder to imagine what he’s doing to hers.”

“I see…” The sound of metal made Kanako turn around, only to find Momiji’s sword half drawn, the white wolf staring intently at the screen showing Hustler’s live feed. “Then…should we just exterminate that blue unit?”

The war goddess stared.

“…as pragmatically simple as that would be…” She gingerly reached out and slowly pushed the blade back in. “Unfortunately, it wouldn’t be something we could accomplish in the time needed to safely disengage Hustler One.”

Momiji raised an eyebrow.

“…no, not even with your speed.” She admitted, “Or at least, not reliably. If it helps, however, I’ve successfully made contact with the Mansion, so we can expect assistance from them too in a matter of moments.

“KANAKO!”

Whirling, she found Nitori gesturing wildly at her. A seven foot long metal cylinder stood ready next to her, studded with cable ports, as several delicate, metallic spikes emerged from the end.

“We’re all good here!” The kappa shouted. “But I don’t have anything capable of punching this thing through the main hardline’s casing!”

“…in retrospect, using such a heavily reinforced conduit for the main line was probably overkill.” Kanako muttered to herself, before shouting back. “LEAVE THAT TO ME! JUST BE READY TO TRANSMIT ON MY SIGNAL!”

Turning back, she gave an apologetic nod to the wolf.

“We’re about to move, so…”

“Understood.” Momiji nodded. “Apologies for interrupting.”

Something close to a real smile crossed Kanako’s face, and then she was gone, lab coat whipping away as she tossed it aside.

Behind her, the white wolf tengu turned to look up at the blazing gold visor with a speculative expression.

“Such focus…truly, this Hustler is a warrior worth keeping an eye on…”

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“She wants us to do WHAT?!” Sakuya gaped. “Pardon me milady, but this…thing has not only trespassed, but severely injured our gate guard, done significant damage to our estate, and is doing its level best to murder myself and Nielsen! And Lady Kanako wants you to help take it ALIVE?!”

Turning from where Patchouli was already readying another weather spell, Remilia grimaced.

“In fairness, the same could be said of EVERYONE who visits the Mansion, and some of those people even WORK here now.”

“But-”

“Enough, Sakuya.” Remilia growled. “I want his head on a spike as badly as you, but there’s something to be said for keeping them ALIVE for punishment afterwards…plus, putting the war goddess of Moriya in our debt is a big plus. And third…”

Her expression clouded as she watched Hustler One and the Wolf slam into each other again and again, hardlight claws ripping into bio-metal and steel shells smashing into holomatter.

“Call it experience, but…there’s something off about that monster.”

“…define off, Mistress.” Sakuya replied dryly. “It’s certainly not any measure of rational, if that’s what you mean.”

Remilia met her eyes for a moment, and the haunted look in them quickly put paid to the maid’s sarcasm.

“It reminds me of how Flandre used to be.” She said quietly.

“…Understood, Mistress.” Sakuya bowed, no further words necessary, and vanished in a flurry of cards. Remilia watched as she reappeared above the monstrous intruder, reinserting herself in the middle of Hustler One’s flow of attacks as smoothly as if she’d never left.

“…The SDM is certainly a magnet for unintentional monsters, isn’t it.”

“Shut up, Patchy.” She growled in resignation. “Now hurry up with that spell! Miss ‘mountains of faith’ said we’d need to have pinpoint timing on this.”

“Done.” Patchouli wiped a small trickle of blood from the edge of her mouth, and squinted up at the sky. “A blizzard is much harder to do, especially in these conditions, but it should suffice…”

She turned, the sky darkening, and gave her longtime friend a skeptical look.

“ ‘Mountains of faith’?”

“I DON’T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT.”

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The Wolf’s tail lashed out, scything a devastating arc through the SDM wall as it whirled towards Hustler. Gold visor flashing, hundreds of calculations reached their end in a moment, Hustler plotting his next move.

“I don’t know if you can hear me in there, Lana-”

>EXECUTE

Boosters flashing to life, he blasted sideways  in a diagonal jump, just ahead of the tail’s arc, and slammed boots first into the hard granite surface. Tendrils speared in towards him, the Wolf already adapting to his strategies-

“Or you…whoever might be inside that horrible monstrosity you call a body, newcomer, if there actually IS anyone in there-”

>EXECUTE

But the Master of the Arena was already gone, the wall shattering under the force of his next jump, flipping cleanly over first the tail strike, then twisting sideways past the tendrils, sparks flying as one grazed an upraised forearm, well within shielding parameters. Now the Wolf was closing in, turn completed as the stake lunged in-
“And frankly I would prefer that there ISN’T anyone in there, because I would certainly love to kill you-”

>EXECUTE

Another blast of boosters, and Hustler hit the ground hard, taking the blow on the back of his neck and shoulders. Even as his momentum flipped him forward, knives flashed in, slamming into the Wolf’s neck and shoulder, knocking the arm aside in a spray of black blood and a frustrated howl.

“But my lady is about to intervene directly, and if either of you have any control left in you, we will need you to reassert it over your more…unruly sides when the opportunity presents itself.” Sakuya finished, eyes hard as she drew another half dozen knives, vanishing again.

>EXECUTE

Hustler slammed straight into the Wolf’s unprotected body, smashing a devastating punch up into its armored gut. Ignoring the roar of pain that elicited, and the claws that screeched across the AI’s hardlight spine, he dug his fingers in, ripping out a bloodied metal chunk, dripping oil, and smashed two more punches in before the Wolf managed to get a grip on his head, flinging Hustler One fifty meters through the air with ease.

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Behind that, however, was still another level of combat, as Beowulf and Lana Nielsen, both unaware of each other's presence, fought bitterly to survive. To an outside observer, the eerie parallel between their almost identical situations might have seemed downright amusing…and yet they fought still, Lana raging against Hustler’s blind fury, and Beowulf against the last vestiges of his feral paranoia and fear.

And though both Hustler and the Wolf were complete polar opposites, in their tunnel visioned desire to annihilate one another, they were the same. Both ignoring everything around them, from their very environment growing steadily colder, to the sound of Sakuya’s voice.

Lana and Beowulf, however, did notice, and in the iron-haired maid’s words, they found their hope.

And as Hustler found his footing again, energy blade forming again, tendrils knitting together into a monstrous claw to replace the Wolf’s severed arm, both titans charging in once more, both the Administrator and ex-Einst readied themselves for one last effort.

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“NOW!” Nitori screamed.

“HaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” Kanako roared, charging in, data spike held aloft, and with muscles and skills honed from decades of combat with her onbashira, drove the metal prongs home, slamming it cleanly through the reinforced metal with enough force to send cracks racing across the length of the conduit in every direction.


“NOW!” Remilia snarled, and with a downward gesture, Patchouli tore the sky, now dark and roiling, asunder. The temperature of the Mansion’s grounds plummeted in an instant, freezing winds slashing through the air as hail and blinding snow hammered down on the battle-torn gardens.

For a moment, Remilia wondered if the magical protection she’d gifted Sakuya with would be enough…but it was already too late for second thoughts anyway.


“NOW!” Sakuya yelled, then vanished, teleporting as far as she could manage, then dropping to the ground near to Daiyousei’s unconscious body, snapping a protective shield up a second later. Normally, such an act would have been more out of character…but this had been a very trying day all around, and her mistress would probably appreciate her attempt to reduce collateral damage even further.

Swearing at the cold biting in even through her wards, the maid fought back a shiver and mentally thanked the fact that at least Meiling had been kicked INTO the mansion. Wherever she was, at least she wouldn’t be exposed to this.

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>EXEC-

>EXE-

>EXECU-

Hustler slammed to a halt as abruptly as if he’d hit a wall.  Entire frame shuddering around him, the distorted red and black head tilted back with an agonized, outraged roar as he detected the data spike. For that brief moment, his attention was split, both the view of his hangar and the sudden, arcane blizzard hammering down around him overlaid and indistinct.

For a brief moment, he fought, raging in grief and fury and outrage.

And then Kanako filled his view of the hangar, her hands digging into the metal of his real head as she yanked him down to face her, a desperate, wild look on her face.

“SHE’S NOT DEAD, YOU RED AND BLACK FOOL!”

Even as he struggled to parse her statement, Lana Nielsen struck out with everything she had, digital pathways blazing to life as she forcibly dumped the entire store of knowledge she had collected directly into Hustler’s databanks.

Every experience she’d had, from her clashes with Sakuya, to her uncomfortable emotions regarding the owner of the Mansion, to her fight in the baths, to every single tidbit of information she had learned about Gensokyo and the natives who dwelled here.

In that split second, though neither were aware of it, Kanako and Lana spoke as one, the war goddess’ desperate emotions and Lana’s equally desperate storm of data meshing together to hit the ancient Master of the Arena like a sledgehammer.

>ERROR!

>ERROR!

>ERROR!</b>

Less than twenty meters away, the Wolf staggered as the blizzard smashed into it. Howling in pain as armor already weakened by Daiyousei, and gaping wounds left by Hustler’s rampage were savaged, Beowulf fought, with everything he had.

“You are…NOT…me!” He snarled, within the depths of his mind. Pain, though a terrible and agonizing experience, was not what defined him. He had known pain all his life, or his past self had. He had fought countless battles, and though they had not been HIS battles, they were a part of him nonetheless. His mistake had been lacking an anchor, some point to make those experiences his own, something he could feel, instead of a slideshow of events.

The Wolf was a child, terrified of the dark, afraid of the world around it, lashing out at everything that it didn’t understand, at anything that hurt it. Blinded by madness and fear, it was like a wounded animal…nothing more, nothing less. It was the monster he had been, shattered and broken when he’d awoken in this world.

But he was more than that now. He was the man who had been born from that, fragments stitched together to give rise to something new, Einst, human and machine, all in one.

The wild card, blazing with potential.

That was why he had come here to begin with, hadn’t he? To learn, and to fight.

Not to rage, and not to lose to the pain and terror of the Wolf.

He remembered the gate guard, smashed aside with all of his strength.

He remembered the ice fairy, run through and blown to dust by his Stake.

He remembered the dark creature, shot from the sky for attempting to avenge her friend.

That…was not…what he had come here for!

And as both titans struggled with new revelations and fierce internal conflict respectively, the reason for Patchouli’s blizzard became apparent.

A nexus of blue-white light appeared between them, glowing softly.

Faint at first, and then growing brighter and brighter, shining even through the pounding sleet to reveal the silhouettes of both mecha.

Shutting one eye against the glare, Sakuya turned her head as Daiyousei groaned next to her, raising an eyebrow as the smaller fairy regained consciousness.

“I know…that light…”

“I certainly hope so.” Sakuya said flatly. “Otherwise someone is going to be very embarrassed when this is over.”

The light grew and grew, the temperature plummeting as it did, realization dawning on Hustler One as he recognized the values appearing in front of him.

“Oh you CLEVER sons of bitches…” Lana Nielsen crowed, her delight thrumming across the digital spectrum. “GO, BABY, GO!”

One final flash, and a burst of cold that left lines of frost slashed across the ground in a circular pattern, and-

Cirno blinked.

Hovering a few inches above the ground, her blue and white dress fluttered in the wind, icicle wings gleaming in the fading light.

“Huh?” She said, blinking again. “Wait…what happened?”

“CIRNO!”

Whirling around, she saw Sakuya’s barrier…and the green haired fairy sobbing behind it, even as she waved frantically, beaming in relief and exhaustion.

“Daiyousei!” She waved back, before the confusion returned. “Wait…why is it snowing? And…why’s that scary maid with you?”

“IT DOESN’T MATTER!” Daiyousei yelled. “JUST GET OUT OF THERE!”

“What…?”

And then, as if hearing a voice only she knew, Cirno turned.

Hustler One stood there, the blizzard fading around him as Patchouli finally began to wind the spell down, its mission accomplished.

Lines of frost traced his hardlight shell, the light of his holomatter body flickering through the crystal ice. Arms hanging at his sides, he simply stared mutely at her, the yellow visor flickering in a way only a handful of people could read.

“M-mister Hustler?” Cirno gaped. “Is that you…? What…how did you…”

She paused, then squinted.

“You’re…smaller than I thought. Or…am I bigger?”

For once, Hustler was glad he did not speak much. At this moment, he was not at all certain he knew what he would say, even if he could.

“Wait…” Cirno staggered, the fairy wincing as she clutched at her head. “I…what is…”

Images flashed through her mind, a monstrous steel figure, a deadly steel stake, and a terrible, agonizing pain.

“I…” Her eyes snapped open, realization dawning as she looked up at Hustler’s pained expression. “Oh man, I totally died, didn’t I?”

Hustler nodded once, slowly.

“…and I uh…never told you how that worked…”

The Master of Arena nodded again.

“Oh.” Cirno swallowed. Only now did she take in their surroundings, the ravaged landscape coming into view as the blizzard slowly died out. “And you did…all this…because you thought I died for real?”

Hustler didn’t nod, but by this point, he didn’t need to.

“Oh boy.” Cirno managed. “Uh…wow.”

There wasn’t much else she could think of to say, honestly. She’d spent her life as…well, probably the lowest of the low-ranked here in Gensokyo, and for all her talk of being the Strongest, she knew that her rag-tag band of misfits were a minor inconvenience at best.

So here, faced with a new friend willing to wreak total havoc on her behalf, who actually cared enough to…It shook her, just a little, even her normally impenetrable self-confidence faltering slightly.

From the shocked look on Hustler’s face, he seemed to feel the same…no, wait a minute.

He was looking past her.

Too late, Cirno realized there was a distinct lack of parts and wreckage marking the defeat of the enemy who had attacked the mansion, and subsequently killed her.

Turning, even as she heard Hustler give an anguished roar, his own boosters flaring far too late, she looked up…and up…and up.

The massive, frozen hulk of the Wolf snarled back, running on nothing but blind fury now as it made one, final leap, monstrous, tendril claw filling the world as it slashed down at her.

This one…it remembered this one…!

This fairy!

THIIIIIIIIS FAIIIIIIIRYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!

But even that blind, agonizing fury was dwarfed a second later, as something far more powerful rose to the fore.

[STEEL BEOWULF]

“NEVER AGAIN.”

[ver. PASSION]

Metal plating shattered, peeling away like dead scales from a shedding snake.

“YOU ARE NOT ME.”

The Wolf screamed, knowing that voice, and knowing what it meant.

The monstrous steel stake slammed home with a horrific crunch of shattering bone.

Hustler One froze, visor wide with confusion, a look mirrored by not just Cirno, but by everyone else on the battleground, and as far back as his hangar.

The Einst Wolf stood frozen, twisted, tendril claw still outstretched, shuddering inches away from the ice fairy’s face.

Black droplets splashed to the ground, the Einst’s acidic blood sizzling as it ate through the ice.

And the revolving stake gleamed, where it had smashed through that mutated arm, punching clear through armor, bone and tendril alike, skewering it cleanly through the wrist.

More armor sloughed off from the right arm, familiar, brilliant blue steel shining through beneath the twisted red and silver of the Wolf.

“AND I WILL NEVER…” That voice thundered again, and Hustler realized with a start that it was coming from the very same foe before him.

“NEVER…!” The stake twisted as the tendril arm twitched and shuddered, as if still trying to reach Cirno.

“BE YOU AGAIN!” Shoulders shaking with the effort, the armored figure reared up, staggering back a step as it raised its skewered arm high.

The sound of a round being chambered rang out, the hammer of the stake pulling back. In that instant, the twisted helmet of the Wolf shattered, bronze eyes burning fiercely as the blue Alt Eisen Riese roared.

“I…AM…BEOWULF!”

And with a blast that shook the world, Beowulf fired.

The massive stake blasted home, and with the dying scream of the Wolf, shattered the corrupted left arm to dust.

Shielding Cirno from the shockwave, Hustler One stared through the dustcloud, his expression unreadable.

As the smoke faded, a heavily armored, blue figure stood there.

Shoulders heaving, Beowulf stared right back, his eyes a clear, bronze color once more, and his armor restored to its former, unmarred glory.

…save the missing left arm, of course.

Steam hissing, he looked across the ruined battlefield, at the destruction he had wrought, and for a moment, guilt was all he knew.

“…Apologies.” He said finally, his tone gruff. “It seems I have caused more trouble than-”

The sound of buzzing hardlight fields interrupted him, and he looked up, to see Hustler One slowly rising to his feet.

“Er…”

He didn’t even see the punch coming.

Nineball’s fist smashed into his jaw at something just under Mach 2, the hardlight fields ensuring there was more than enough solidity to make sure it connected.

Beowulf spun halfway around and fell over, the world tilting crazily around him.

“Wh-what the…”

And then Nineball was on him again, claws digging into his chestplate as he was hauled upright, the entire, hulking mass of his frame yanked off the ground by a holomatter avatar a full head shorter than him.

Hustler dragged him down until Beowulf’s faceplate was mere inches from his own, and growled.

“…message received.” The ex-Einst said weakly.

Holding it for a moment longer, the Master of the Arena stared at him, hard, before finally releasing him. Dropping the blue mecha back on his feet, Hustler stepped back, apparently satisfied. Behind him, Daiyousei tackled Cirno, sobbing her heart out, and even Sakuya reappeared, shivering as she landed next to them, both still watching Beowulf suspiciously.

In the distance, Remilia sighed.

“Are you happy now?” She demanded, Patchouli’s orb glowing next to her.

Slumped back in a chair, panting as she watched the rest of the hangar crew running around, Kanako closed her eyes.

“Yes.” She said finally. “Yes I am. Now tell that idiot to get back here before he explodes.”

Rolling her eyes, Remilia swatted the orb aside and turned to look out at her ruined lawns. Ignoring Patchouli’s panicked fumbling to catch it, she squinted up at the clouds. Ultimately deciding it was still overcast enough, she stepped out-

Which of course, was the very instant the world shook anew.

“…?!” Sakuya staggered, and next to her Daiyousei made a similar sound of alarm as she and Cirno went down, knocked off balance.

Moments later, another tremor hit, rattling the windows of the Mansion.

“An earthquake…?” Lana managed. The pain of Hustler’s continued presence was still there, but much more manageable now, meaning she could afford to provide some kind of analysis now.

No…not an earthquake. Hustler’s visor flickered, lines of data racing across his vision.

A spatial quake.

“WHAT.”

“An attack…?” Sakuya growled, knives already in hand. “I am beginning to sorely hate this day.”

“No…no this isn’t an attack.” Beowulf spoke up now, recognition in his voice…but the confusion marring his features said something else. “I know what this is but…why…?”

Seconds later, they all had their answer.

One final, almighty tremor, and space in the center of the SDM’s lawn simply…shattered.

A jagged, black rent in the fabric of the world gaped open, a black void simply blasted into existence by some ridiculous force…and lined with layer upon layer of blank, staring eyes.

“That’s…!” Remilia’s eyes widened in rage. “Oh, of COURSE she’d be involved somehow!”

Beowulf, however, took a step back, eyes narrowing.

He KNEW those eyes…and on some deeper, instinctual level, he knew what they meant.

Now, however, instead of terror, only a cautious wariness remained.

…which went completely unnoticed a second later as, smoke and fire trailing her, outfit in tatters, and sporting several new scrapes and scratches and bruises…

Hoshiguuma Yuugi strode onto the field, a fierce grin on her face, and spitting out a bloody tooth.

“Found you, Beowulf.” She waved cheerfully. “Sorry for the delay, but hoooooooly hell’s teeth you would not BELIEVE what happened…to…”

She slowed, trailing off uncertainly as she registered the figures standing around him…and then the devastation surrounding them…and the bewildered vampire above them all, paused in mid-Gungnir throw.

And all watching her with the same, confused (and wary) look.

Except for Beowulf, who somehow managed to look concerned for her, relieved to see her…and then very, very guilty, in that order.

“…Okay.” She conceded finally, turning to look around. “Maybe you can.”

“Oh, I’m not entirely certain of that.” A new voice said, and Beowulf’s remaining fist clenched, stake snapping out as he dropped into a ready stance.

“I agree.” A second voice spoke up, and now it was Hustler One’s turn to extend an energy blade, visor burning in recognition…only to look around in surprise as everyone else around him demonstrated a similar opinion, knives, ice, and even the burning red of Gungnir charging back up to full power.

[DARK PRISON ver. OGDP]

Shoulders slumping, Yuugi turned, resting a hand on her hip in annoyance as the hole she had punched began to grow, wider and wider as it turned horizontal.

“You just couldn’t leave well enough alone, could you.” She growled.

The massive golden halo emerged, the world seeming to grow darker in the divine light radiating from it.

A blue crown of metal, yellow vents burning with the same holy light, the regal might of an unmatched emperor.

A black faceplate, violet eyes looking down on them all with a terrifying indifference, a nightmare among gods.

Massive, armored shoulders, like a mantle of indestructible might, colored the same midnight blue as the rest of the colossal machine.

Even Remilia faltered, Gungnir lowering as that crown brushed the clouds high overhead, Sakuya taking a step back, teeth bared in incredulity.

“I know you.” Beowulf growled, and he was proud that his voice only shook a little.

And still the rift grew, the unmistakable, ominous might of a machine no one could mistake making its presence known.

“ID tag located…” Lana said, in a very small voice.

“ …Neo Granzon identified.”