Miles' offer would go unnoticed. Nothing would change the affairs now, Yeshua thought. Solidifying the concrete nature of his thoughts, it sank to the bottom of his heart, swimming in a sea of sludge. His head softly rest against the back of his chair and his feet delicately placed on the pylon underneath the table, supporting it. Was this a canteen? thought Yeshua, wondering if he would ever return here. If he did, this seat would be his. He would be able to tell, since there was a rather large mark on the lower seat. It was like someone had scratched it beforehand, which bothered him even more. Were they the first, and why were --
"All personnel, prepare for the start of Operation: Mock Battle. Cadets, your plugsuits are in the changing rooms next to the Framewerk hangars. Suit up, prepare for deployment, and wait for further instructions. System checkups and communications are permitted."
It was that time, then. Hypothetical statements would have to wait. Now, he had to deal hundreds of millions worth of damage to other people's frameworks. How poetic, the boy thought. Leaping himself from the shackles of the chair, he strolled past the door, taking in the surroundings with very little idea where he was going. Vents to his left and right trickled air from the outside like cracks in a seamless glass pane.
Slipping into one of the combat suits, it felt tight and, to be honest, rather uncomfortable. He wouldn't want anyone else to see his almost naked for. It was like stepping into a womb for Yeshua; naked and afraid, but with the sheer excitement to see the outside world. Stepping into the cockpit, the panels around him refracted and he could see every single one, with each having its purpose.
The Anzu was outfitted to be deadly and powerful, nothing more or nothing less. The high-powered rifle, at least thirty feet long, had enough power to puncture most types of armour if used properly. It was going to be down to not the machine, but Yeshua himself. The framework was named after the Old Bible creature, apparent in Mesopotamian Myth as the god of the Sky. A beautiful metaphor for these machines that hopefully would one day save humanity.
One of the panels lit up, displaying lines of information that ran straight past him. A somewhat familiar voice rang through the cockpit. Lora's offer was kind and made sense, which is the exact reason Yeshua refused.
"Lora, did you know Goliath was a man only around seven feet tall, but probably never lived as he was just a metaphor to inspire rebellion against the Romans? Trust me, the Deamon is nothing to be feared of, much like the Cruxi. Expect combat. Even with me or Miles. Let's try and keep out of each other's way.
With that swift response Yeshua flicked off the communications switch, shutting down one of the many panels in his library. He was somewhat satisfied, even if he did just doom himself. The Anzu was swift and strong, he would be safe. It was so strong in fact, he was surprised this technology hadn't enslaved the rest of humanity by now. How could people so young have so much power? Are we really the captors of Gods?
Is there a God? Yeshua pondered for far too long. Why would he send me here? To die?
