Chapter 1: Astra Falkov
"Astra Falkov, you’re surrounded! Step out of the mech with your hands up and return the tech to us!" an echoing voice filled the cockpit as sweat trickled down Astra’s brow. Her fingers flew over the controls in a frantic attempt to coax life out of the failing machine.
"Come on! You piece of junk!" she snarled, slamming her fist against the unresponsive control panel. The system sputtered, and sparks were sent flying as the monitors’ shrill alarms started out one by one.
Then, silence.
The cockpit plunged into darkness, save for the faint red glow of a dying monitor—a grim reminder of her failure.
"Great," Astra muttered, leaning back in the chair with a defeated sigh. She covered her eyes with one hand, struggling to think.
"Come on, you idiot... think—" Her tattered bag shook slightly, catching her attention. Her gaze narrowed, and a sly smile spread across her face. Without hesitation, she snatched the bag and reached for the latch above her.
The sudden burst of light made her squint as she scrambled to the top of the mech, a cold gust brushing against her midnight-blue hair.
The sight was bleak: an endless wasteland, cracked and barren, with only the scattered mechs encircling hers offering any sign of life. Searchlights pinned her in their blinding beams, casting long, jagged shadows across the ground.
How had she ended up in this situation? The thought flickered through Astra’s mind as she scanned the hostile scene.
"You’re under arrest for illegally manning a mech, stealing interstellar tech from the government, and resisting capture!" a stern female voice boomed, sharp and commanding. "Do you have anything to say for yourself, Anomaly?!"
Was all this worth her curiosity? Had she gained anything from it at all?