A loud crack of broke the otherwise serene silence of the plains as hand met brick, the former seamlessly cutting through the latter as if it was not even there, obliterating the resilient material in a split second. Flesh and bone sliced through much harder stuff without missing its mark by as much as a millimetre. If one observed the strike closely, they could note that the technique was absolutely perfect in its execution, but more experienced eyes could see the brute force behind it too. This was not a punch meant to shatter something as simple as a wall. No, it was meant to break through layer upon layer of reinforced steel or tear through even the most hardened of defenses. Another crack signalled four bricks yielding to the might of a single movement, but this time, the executioner flinched despite the fact that her hand cut through them as usual. This strike actually hurt, she noted in surprise as she looked at her dusty, sweat-covered palm. That was strange. It usually did not hurt when she destroyed things, so she noted that she must have went overboard, another reminder of her own physical limitations despite her inherently tough frame. It showed that she was just as vulnerable as her peers in some areas, which brought a small smile to her face, representing the tiny light at the end of that certain tunnel that all humanity focused on so desperately. The young woman patted her hands down then wiped them in her dirty, white trousers before she reached towards her shoulder-length, chestnut brown hair to clear it out of her shallow, yellow eyes that betrayed no emotion, then she took a deep breath to disippate the pain building in her hand. Her gaze surveyed the land as she calmed the reactions of her body, taking in the scenery that no one could see anymore: The high mountains in the distance, the large, green plain and the blue skies littered with clouds; all a reminder of the old humanity that had passed on a long time ago. It was always a breath-taking sight, no matter how many times she had seen it, because it contrasted so sharply against the world today. But before she could immerse herself in the sight, the image shattered, only to be replaced by harsh letters that she knew all too well. UNEXPECTED COMBAT SITUATION. ALL DREAMSCAPE SCENARIOS ARE ON HOLD. KALLISTRATE IS TO REPORT TO DEVICE LRTD-206 FOR LAUNCH. She could not even log out of the simulation herself, because the program had already torn apart her carefully constructed program and her vision was filled with a lifeless, metal plate that had sealed her dreamscape capsule. Irritated at the sudden interruption, the woman willed her cage to open, then she swung her fist at the air in an attempt to chase some unseen enemy away before she sighed and stepped out, wearing nothing but a nightgown that covered her strong, trained form. The cloth was quickly stripped away, then replaced with tough-looking, dark clothes composed of a long-sleeved shirt, a pair of trousers, gloves, comfortable walking shoes and a dog-tag that secured itself tight around her neck. The next moment, codename Kallistrate was out the door and walking at a brisk pace towards her destination. The built-in microcomputer of her dogtag chimed into her ear to ask her if she wanted directions, but she just dismissed it as she had already been at her destination dozens of times. Instead, she ordered the thing to get as much information about the enemy as possible before she and the rest of the soldiers had to actually engage them. Anything, even the most trivial piece of intelligence that she recieved could drastically change the course of the battle at some point. Her efforts were rewarded with a dreadful report that told her of an attack which swept away most of the early warning systems before it was even detected. This was going to be a tough one. Kallistrate sucked on her teeth in frustration as the door opened before her and she stepped into the centre of the spherical room, holding her arms to her sides so that the complicated machinery could do its work. The system immediately recognised her, which caused many mechanical arms to descend at once, then they started the assembly process in an impressive display of coordination. First, Kallistrate was covered by a thin wiremesh that would serve as the foundation of her armoured suit, then she was carefully lifted by her waist. Her legs were encased in armour plates, but instead of boots, her shins along with her feet were swallowed by two metal spikes laced with stange, circular indentures that housed a myriad of small devices. Small boxes were then attached to microhooks on the outside of the thighs, a small light that faced towards the woman coming online as their electricity supply connected. Next came a pair of gloves that reached up to Kallistrate's elbows with many tiny contact points woven into their fabric, which were only visible because of the way light played on them. After this came a long, segmented, skeletal attachment which hugged the spinal cord then spread out to both arms until they met the gloves and the armour plate which covered the woman's hips. This was followed by a metallic, high-collar jacket that covered only just as much area as the skeleton did. The edges of this jacket automatically attached themselves to the material nearby, forming a cohesive armour around the fragile human body to protect it from any harm. Finally, a pair of huge, mechanical fists descended from above. Black, bulky, brutal and not looking the slightiest bit delicate with their thick, even-length fingers, they were almost as large as Kallistrate herself. It was clear that they weighed dozens of kilograms at least and that not even the well-built, powerful woman could lift them easily, but she accepted them without complaint as they attached to her forearms, then locked their connections with her gloves with a quiet click, thus marking the death of the individual and the birth of a weapon. From now on, until she was back from the battlefield, she was nothing more than a combat unit who would do her best to gain back the advantage they had lost. A massive amount of electricity suddenly flowed into the suit of Kallistrate, which prompted the mechanical arms to release her lest the rest of the machines get damaged, but instead of plummeting down, the woman continued to float in one place with a small smirk on her face. She always liked this small, momentary feeling of freedom as she tapped into her magic to supply her combat suit directly, then it started to float at her command. It made her feel powerful. It made her feel in control of her own situation, but the feeling did not last for long as the spherical chamber sensed her readiness and lit up with massive amounts of quantum power for a split second. The next second, Kallistrate was gone, travelling at a speed that would land her on the battlefield the fraction of an eye-blink. Or so she thought. * * * * As soon as her sight returned, Kallistrate found herself facing a room filled with surprised people, some of whom were armed and some of whom were sitting behind what she vaguely recognised as computers. Blinking at the surprise that she had been teleported here instead of the wasteland she expected, it only took so much for the soldier to immediately level her gauntlets at the people in front of her, the barrel of a machinegun revealing itself from between two fingers of her enormous gauntlets. "Don't you dare to move!" she shouted, her voice clear and authorative as she surveyed her surroundings. Where the hell was she? How did the coordinates go wrong? The technology used to teleport her had been invented and tested thoroughly years ago, so it could not have malfunctioned like this! In the face of such a surprise, it was hard not to show any emotions, but Kallistrate tried to keep her face as harsh as possible while aiming her weapons at the armed guards as she did not recognise the rifles in their hands. She had many questions that she wished to be answered, but those could wait until she got rid of those unknown weapons.