Haven City to Dead Town, Saturday
It'd been a week of back-and-forth, but Torn's ire seemed to be dying down. Which didn't mean much to Jak, except that it made mission briefings a little more friendly.
Considering that it was Torn, that didn't say much.
Red alert in the city had gone back down to the usual: just the constant patrolling of trigger-happy Krimzon Guard and an extra helping of propaganda posts, loudly declaring to the world that sleeping was optional, work was mandatory, and everyone was expected to assist in the war effort or face the consequences.
Propaganda posts were fun, especially when you rammed them so hard with a zoomer that the Baron's voice got warped and finally vanished in a shower of sparks. Yeah, it was a week to the day Jak had confronted the Baron up in the palace, and Torn said he had yet another mission for him.
As Daxter would put it, what else is new.
Back to Dead Town, was the message. Jak finally decided to ask just what the hell Dead Town was, anyway.
"Metal Heads broke through the old city wall. We fought them. But then the Baron pulled back, leaving everyone outside the new barrier to die. Only the Shadow stayed, and somehow stopped the attack."
And now it was up to Jak to do the same thing.
Although at least this time, there wasn't anyone left alive in Dead Town. At least no one Jak didn't want to shoot.
He took quick care of the Metal Heads swarming near the entrance to the city, yanking the Blaster barrel off his Morph Gun. At least Torn had been kind enough to get him a new toy for this mission: the Vulcan barrel fit snuggly on his gun, and Jak allowed himself a second to feel the hum of blue eco contained in the slugs as he slipped them into place.
Yeah. It was a shitty mission, but at least he was prepared.
He took aim for one of the tall, long-range Metal Heads; it'd be a problem once Jak got in its range otherwise. He fired a few bullets in rapid succession, kneeling closer to the ground. He watched with some satisfaction as the creature fell over, skull gem popping out of its head. Smirk.
"Oh, yeah," Daxter cooed, poking at the new barrel. "That is one pretty baby."
Jak got up onto his feet. He climbed up onto the next chunk of debris, switching barrels with an easy flick of his wrist - it'd been tricky the first couple of times, but he'd gotten it. He fired two rounds into the approaching burly Metal Heads, snagging their skull gems on the way. He wasn't going to stop for anything.
Several more dead Metal Heads later, his head now swimming with the collective force of their dark eco, Jak broke into the bigger ruins. There was something here -- some sacred place that Torn wanted them to keep out of Metal Head hands. The quicker this one was over, the better.
He leapt up the stairs, firing Vulcan bullets rapidly into the quartet of angry Metal Heads charging towards him, then dodged behind a pillar. A bark. That meant one more.
He rolled forwards, away from the pillar, didn't stop to think, just shouldered the gun and fired, the force of the impact knocking the Metal Head off the edge and far down into the swamp below.
Snap.
He had to turn quickly, flicking his wrist again so he could get the oncoming scorpion Metal Heads with a heavy spread, twice, thrice, and then it was just him, his Morph gun, and two damn ugly-looking long range ones that flared up with dark energy as soon as he rounded the corner.
He fired.
The first Metal Head fell.
He turned his gun and fired again--
Click.
"...Jaaaak," Daxter said, a warning in his voice, "We don't have any more bullets!"
Yeah, he could tell!
He rolled away quickly. Something suddenly burned into his shoulder, a dark globe of energy that burst apart against his tunic. Fuck. That hurt.
That hurt a lot.
He saw red. Or rather, purple, energy spiking up and taking over, bleaching his skin; he was shooting forward, claws first, tearing again, sticking sharp ends between the metal and pulling. The Metal Head fought back with its own claws, more dark energy smashing into his body, but he had the sheer rage that made him fearless.
One long hard shove and the Metal Head went soaring over the edge, falling, falling, and then smashing apart on the rocks below. Jak's lips curled into a snarl.
Pain burst through his mind. Familiar pain. The darkness receded again, leaving an unwelcome ache in its wake, prickling at every inch of Jak's skin until it had faded.
When he regained awareness of himself, Jak had his hands buried in his hair. "Wha--?"
"Is that--"
Daxter sounded strangely out of it on his shoulder.
"Is that--?!"
Jak looked up. Rocks. Round rocks, straw on top, a ledge that hung out just so where they'd perched the--
"No, it couldn't be!"
Those windows. Jak had snuck in through that window once, when he was ten years old, looking for a remedy for wumpbee stings--
"It's not--"
"It is," Jak breathed. The sinking stone in his gut drove all thoughts of the eco burning in his veins away. It was like it didn't exist, like someone had just ripped the ground away from under Jak's feet, tore away the anger and left a hollow sense of inevitability behind. "...Samos's hut."
"But how?!" Daxter squeaked, "I mean, when--? Where?" He covered his face with his hand. "...Why?!"
"We're in the future, Dax," Jak said, all the puzzle pieces falling together right there in front of him. No. No no. "This... horrible place," he started, like every word could help him wrap his mind around it, "is... our world." It didn't feel like it helped.
It felt more like the end of everything. So huge that he just couldn't touch it.
Dax's paws dug into his arm. He didn't notice.
[[ NFB, NFI, OOC-ok, taken from Jak 2: Renegade. Mmmm. Smells like twist. ]]
Considering that it was Torn, that didn't say much.
Red alert in the city had gone back down to the usual: just the constant patrolling of trigger-happy Krimzon Guard and an extra helping of propaganda posts, loudly declaring to the world that sleeping was optional, work was mandatory, and everyone was expected to assist in the war effort or face the consequences.
Propaganda posts were fun, especially when you rammed them so hard with a zoomer that the Baron's voice got warped and finally vanished in a shower of sparks. Yeah, it was a week to the day Jak had confronted the Baron up in the palace, and Torn said he had yet another mission for him.
As Daxter would put it, what else is new.
Back to Dead Town, was the message. Jak finally decided to ask just what the hell Dead Town was, anyway.
"Metal Heads broke through the old city wall. We fought them. But then the Baron pulled back, leaving everyone outside the new barrier to die. Only the Shadow stayed, and somehow stopped the attack."
And now it was up to Jak to do the same thing.
Although at least this time, there wasn't anyone left alive in Dead Town. At least no one Jak didn't want to shoot.
He took quick care of the Metal Heads swarming near the entrance to the city, yanking the Blaster barrel off his Morph Gun. At least Torn had been kind enough to get him a new toy for this mission: the Vulcan barrel fit snuggly on his gun, and Jak allowed himself a second to feel the hum of blue eco contained in the slugs as he slipped them into place.
Yeah. It was a shitty mission, but at least he was prepared.
He took aim for one of the tall, long-range Metal Heads; it'd be a problem once Jak got in its range otherwise. He fired a few bullets in rapid succession, kneeling closer to the ground. He watched with some satisfaction as the creature fell over, skull gem popping out of its head. Smirk.
"Oh, yeah," Daxter cooed, poking at the new barrel. "That is one pretty baby."
Jak got up onto his feet. He climbed up onto the next chunk of debris, switching barrels with an easy flick of his wrist - it'd been tricky the first couple of times, but he'd gotten it. He fired two rounds into the approaching burly Metal Heads, snagging their skull gems on the way. He wasn't going to stop for anything.
Several more dead Metal Heads later, his head now swimming with the collective force of their dark eco, Jak broke into the bigger ruins. There was something here -- some sacred place that Torn wanted them to keep out of Metal Head hands. The quicker this one was over, the better.
He leapt up the stairs, firing Vulcan bullets rapidly into the quartet of angry Metal Heads charging towards him, then dodged behind a pillar. A bark. That meant one more.
He rolled forwards, away from the pillar, didn't stop to think, just shouldered the gun and fired, the force of the impact knocking the Metal Head off the edge and far down into the swamp below.
Snap.
He had to turn quickly, flicking his wrist again so he could get the oncoming scorpion Metal Heads with a heavy spread, twice, thrice, and then it was just him, his Morph gun, and two damn ugly-looking long range ones that flared up with dark energy as soon as he rounded the corner.
He fired.
The first Metal Head fell.
He turned his gun and fired again--
Click.
"...Jaaaak," Daxter said, a warning in his voice, "We don't have any more bullets!"
Yeah, he could tell!
He rolled away quickly. Something suddenly burned into his shoulder, a dark globe of energy that burst apart against his tunic. Fuck. That hurt.
That hurt a lot.
He saw red. Or rather, purple, energy spiking up and taking over, bleaching his skin; he was shooting forward, claws first, tearing again, sticking sharp ends between the metal and pulling. The Metal Head fought back with its own claws, more dark energy smashing into his body, but he had the sheer rage that made him fearless.
One long hard shove and the Metal Head went soaring over the edge, falling, falling, and then smashing apart on the rocks below. Jak's lips curled into a snarl.
Pain burst through his mind. Familiar pain. The darkness receded again, leaving an unwelcome ache in its wake, prickling at every inch of Jak's skin until it had faded.
When he regained awareness of himself, Jak had his hands buried in his hair. "Wha--?"
"Is that--"
Daxter sounded strangely out of it on his shoulder.
"Is that--?!"
Jak looked up. Rocks. Round rocks, straw on top, a ledge that hung out just so where they'd perched the--
"No, it couldn't be!"
Those windows. Jak had snuck in through that window once, when he was ten years old, looking for a remedy for wumpbee stings--
"It's not--"
"It is," Jak breathed. The sinking stone in his gut drove all thoughts of the eco burning in his veins away. It was like it didn't exist, like someone had just ripped the ground away from under Jak's feet, tore away the anger and left a hollow sense of inevitability behind. "...Samos's hut."
"But how?!" Daxter squeaked, "I mean, when--? Where?" He covered his face with his hand. "...Why?!"
"We're in the future, Dax," Jak said, all the puzzle pieces falling together right there in front of him. No. No no. "This... horrible place," he started, like every word could help him wrap his mind around it, "is... our world." It didn't feel like it helped.
It felt more like the end of everything. So huge that he just couldn't touch it.
Dax's paws dug into his arm. He didn't notice.
[[ NFB, NFI, OOC-ok, taken from Jak 2: Renegade. Mmmm. Smells like twist. ]]