The haze of battle nearly overcame my sense of time as we battled on the frontline. It wasn’t as though I lost myself to fury, nor to any kind of bloodlust; it was a cold calculation, much more akin to performing a single monotonous task ad-infinitum. I was a cog in the machine that was the Determinator wall, turning and firing, confirming kill, moving on to the next target while updating the rest of the Determinator’s local sub-net of what I could see.

For hours this carried on, the biotics utterly unable to gain any more territory. They tried many strategies, an axiom phalanx, attacking from higher up in buildings adjacent and across from our battle lines, even sending crushing surges of lesser biotics to attempt to overwhelm the defensive line with a wall of screeching, war-hungry meat.

Each and every time the attacks were ineffective, repelled, or outright devastated. The entire force wasn’t in combat at once, and many were in reserve just for anything that the enemy might try. When a Determinator reached less than a quarter of their overall munitions and battery reserve, they pulled back to the auxiliary forces to be replaced. No blind spots, no periods of weakness, nothing that could be obviously exploited. Our machine was deadly efficient, and at no time did we allow even the whisper of a potential exploitation to continue to exist.

That said, we did suffer damages, as was inevitable. Scores of the Determinators bore damage now, the results of the relentless attacks from biotics as they rained down upon us. Acid resistant coatings discolored and degraded, gradually exposing metallic surfaces to damage. The bodies of the Determinators bore many scrapes and in some places penetrations from the black barbs that the Centaur fired. They were among the most common, but there were a scant few other biotics capable of destructive attacks at range.

All of that lasted up until only ten percent of our forces had yet to expend the bulk of their munitions.

“It’s just about time. Are we ready?” I spoke into the cyberspace connecting our minds. The data exchange slowed fractionally, rivers of information almost seeming to pause to take note of the change. Steadily, then, the data slowed to trickles, reforming and threading to the hundreds of minds as they belatedly realized my words.

“We are.” I heard one of my guards say, “Melee combat mode initiated, fallback protocol is also ready.”

“Then begin.” The simple command answered him, passed through the lines of data like liquid fire.

In reality, the movement appeared without warning. Every Determinator stepped forward as one, utilizing their remaining ammo to close the distance. I moved forward with the tide, breaking into a sprint and watching my footing. We ate up shattered ground at incredible speed, reaching the biotics in moments and taking them by surprise. The few Centaur hadn’t a span of a breath to react, let alone the lesser biotics among them.

A pair of hilts were in my hands and swinging even as the metal finished unfolding. The pair of sickles glowed a faint red and trailed light as I swept them through the face of the Centaur in front of me. It raised an arm in resistance, and I pushed harder with my power armor to ensure I could cleave the offending limb.

With a brief hitch, the pair of sickles ruthlessly cleft the limb away and continued onwards. The points dug into the shrieking Centaur in the middle and top of its head, blades shuddering with the force of the impact. My swing slowed momentarily then, but after practicing with these weapons I’d gotten used to their peculiarities. I slid a half step backwards, pulling back my momentum and spinning, ripping the skull of the biotics to pieces as I did so. As I continued my movement, I took the opportunity to visually confirm what my nearest guard was doing.

Reaping swings with glaives, some styled with wider raking blades not unlike that of war-scythes, tore through biotic flesh with absolute power. A pair of my guards struck at an Axiom, cutting through its legs in one fluid motion on either side, only for a third Determinator to stab into its skull with its bayonet rifle just before firing point blank, melting through armor and ignoring the ensuing firestorm.

Several of us lingered closer to the fires that fed on the pyres of corpses. The flames made it much more difficult for the biotics to move freely, whereas the Determinators were much more resilient to it.

I finished my spin, coming low to the ground ready to dodge in any direction I needed too. It turned out unnecessary, the Determinators were abusing the Biotics as much as possible before the central intelligence behind them could change strategy to match them. With a chuckle, I sent a pulse of intent to both of the sickles in my hands.

With a light tug, I let them escape my grasp, the electromagnetic propulsion that aided them humming aloud as the weapons spun rapidly for a few seconds. They spun, twirled, and somersaulted around my body, drawing a dazzling display before coming to a slow, buoyant rest on either side of me.

This was their real strength, the ability to operate autonomously within a certain range of myself. Each of my weapons had some measure of ability to operate independently, rifle excluded, in order to maximize my killing potential. The sickle happened to be one of the weapons that could operate far better on their own.

I eyed them for a moment, ensuring that they were fully synchronized to my movements. I was durable enough that if they missed, I’d survive, but they were designed explicitly for damage. Even my armor wasn’t going to be able to withstand much of them in melee.

Satisfied with that, I began to activate my main melee weapon. A clacking noise, lost in the din of the battlefield, came from the spine of my armor. Two columns beside the spine moved, somewhere between snake and centipede, that then began to writhe upwards and then curl down around my arms. Even through my armor I could feel the hair-raising energy coming from them. The metal ends touched my palms, and without hesitation I gripped them, pulling the entire columns from my body.

They jolted, snapping forward rigidly at my call, crackling, dark red lines of power pulsing across their obsidian black shining surfaces. Focusing my will to them, I pressed my hands together, the columns joining segments fluidly as I did so. The weapon extended straight, appearing something like a macabre staff that vaguely resembled a warped spinal column that glowed sinisterly.

With a flex of my thoughts, a nearly black crescent of matter extended from the end of the staff. To my eyes, it looked as if multiple blades existed in the same space at once, shuddering through reality as though competing with one another. The staff curled in on itself, carefully keeping the blade from touching my body or it’s own form. Several more crescent blades emerged from the joints, giving every impression of a predator stretching after a long rest.

The twin artificial sentience within the weapons greeted me with what seemed at best antipathy, but after having accustomed myself to them, I could feel the simmering energy that demanded to be let loose. Among all of the creations I’d built over time, The Reaper’s Spine had proved to be my most ambitious. They’d been projects of curiosity and admittedly a flight of fantasy.

Yet, they’d become something much more dangerous somewhere along the line.

The weapon shivered before straightening, ready to begin the reaping.

I shifted forward, moving between the larger Determinators to seek targets. Within moments, a handful of lesser biotics moved forward, seeking to overwhelm a Determinator that struck deeper into the swarm than others.

They didn’t know that it was bait in the first place; such scenes were playing out everywhere in the battle. While they were far from the most ideal target for my attacks, it wasn’t as though there was an abundance of targets.

I swung wide, both hands gripping the Spine for a horizontal slash. Mid-swing, the segments loosened from one another, dark, near black beams of energy keeping them connected. In the blink of an eye, the segments reached outwards for six meters and writhed. Every time it passed near a biotic, it moved around them, agiley gliding over skin. Yet, dozens of times crescent blades struck forth, piercing through flesh and armor as though it wasn’t even there. I could feel the twin-minds of the weapon flexing as one, one adjusting their movement, while the other commanded their fangs.

Truly, the only thing I needed to do was swing. Death followed.

I darted forward, readying a backswing as I left behind nearly three dozen bodies of lesser biotics. Before me, a trio of Centaur stepped forward, roaring in defiance.

Two brought their acid cannons to bear upon me even as they continued to advance. The third arced their back, pointing their bristling black tail in my direction as it shuddered.

I stabbed forward, the Spine devouring the ten meter distance between myself and the stopped Centaur instantly. It didn’t get the chance to respond as the black and red blades tore through its body.

A pair of arcing, brilliant red lights trailed forward as the sickle’s strikes cut through the acid cannons in one strike. The Centaurs confusion lingered only a moment before the sickle’s exchanged targets, building up momentum and swinging through the thinner neck-joints of the Centaur, cleanly beheading them.

Without delay, they immediately dove into the fray elsewhere near me, launching lethal sneak attacks at every turn.

I felt a rare, satisfied smile settle on my lips as I dove deeper into the fray, the feeling that my creations were doing so well lifting my spirits.

Which rapidly dwindled again as I habitually checked the status of the Psy-Emitter tests.

‘Still haven’t managed to narrow it down any more?’ I mentally glared at the data fed to me before partitioning a small portion of my attention to deal with it.