The prototype loomed across Sirius' bench like a sleeping monster. Twin barrels, jagged cooling fins, and three fat drum housings clamped beneath the chassis gave it the look of something not built, but forged in fury. It wasn't elegant. It wasn't sleek. It was ugly, raw, terrifying.
And Sirius Blake loved it.
The Shatterstorm Mk I was not a gun—it was a promise of devastation.
He ran his fingers along the plating one last time before stepping back, grease-streaked, sweat-soaked, eyes alight with mania.
"Soon," he whispered, almost tender. "You'll scream for me."
ARI's calm voice filled his skull.
> "Prototype integrity: stable. Completion: 82%. Stress testing required."
Sirius laughed softly, then louder, until the FAWS techs in the room glanced up from their own benches. Some shook their heads. Some whispered, "Lost cause." But none could deny that when Renegade Blake grinned like that, something was coming.
Two days later, the call came. Chief Loras' voice, as gravelly as ever, cut across the workshop intercom.
"Blake. To my office. Now."
When Sirius arrived, the head of FAWS didn't waste time. He gestured toward the heavy blast doors leading into the forward deployment bay.
"Blake, you'll get your field trial. Outpost Delta is crawling with Hivebugs. We're sending Stone Varga's heavies and Bear Ivanov's mech support with you." His eyes narrowed. "You'll prove that cannon works… or we bury it."
Sirius' lips split into a grin. "Oh, it'll work. Might even sing for you."
Behind him, Stone crossed his arms, glaring at the weapon's schematics displayed on the wall. "That thing's more beast than gun. You sure it won't kill us before it kills them?"
Bear chuckled from the doorway, his broad frame half-hidden by the shadow of his mech's waiting silhouette. But unease flickered in his eyes. "If it does, Varga, at least we'll go out with style."
At dawn, the canyon outpost came alive with movement. Mech support rumbled into position, turrets unfolded from their armored shells, and infantry dug in along the ridges. The Hivebugs were already stirring below—swarms shifting like black rivers through burrows.
Bear's mech lumbered at the flank, its patched armor and plasma cannons humming with restrained power. Inside, Ivanov's hands tightened on the controls, sweat already beading his brow.
Stone marched with his heavies at Sirius' side, carrying extra drums across his chest in a crude harness. Each one was the size of a boulder and twice as heavy, but Stone bore them without complaint.
The Shatterstorm rested on a reinforced tripod rig, its barrels gleaming faintly in the low light. Sirius patted the side of the cannon like a farmer patting a prize bull.
"Alright, baby," he muttered, sliding the triple-drum housing into its socket. "Time to show them what we can do."
The counter lit: 3×50 — Loaded.
ARI's whisper brushed against his ear.
> "Telemetry linked. Projected overheat at 19 seconds sustained fire. Recommend burst cycles."
"Plenty of time," Sirius said, his grin widening.
The Hivebugs surged first in scouts, then drones, then full carapace warriors. Their bodies caught the rising sun, glinting like obsidian blades.
Sirius yanked the trigger.
The Shatterstorm roared. Twin barrels alternated in a devastating rhythm, shredding the swarm into mist and ichor. The sound was deafening, a thunderclap that rolled again and again, hammering the canyon walls.
Hivebugs dissolved into fragments, their limbs tumbling across the dirt. Black ichor sprayed the air like rain.
Bear's mech lifted its cannons, but hesitated, his sensors flooded with kill-markers before he even locked onto the targets.
Stone crouched behind his heavy shield, jaw tight, staring in disbelief as the wave simply disintegrated. "By the gods," he barked over comms. "It's eating them alive!"
Sirius laughed like a madman, teeth bared, eyes wild. "HAHA! YES! DROWN IN THUNDER!"
The infantry behind them cheered nervously, half in awe, half in fear.
Steam hissed from the vents. The upper barrel glowed red.
ARI's voice was calm, clinical.
> "Warning: Overheat threshold reached. Rotate barrels. Vent cycle engaged."
Sirius slammed the switch. The lower barrel rotated up, fresh and cool. The weapon didn't pause—it just kept roaring.
Then came the snag. The indexer locked mid-cycle, grinding metal screaming, sparks spitting from the feed housing. The Shatterstorm choked on its own fury.
"Blake! It's failing!" Stone shouted, raising his rifle to cover the gap.
For a heartbeat, Sirius froze. Then his grin snapped back, wider, feral. He slammed his fist against the reset lever, kicked the feed hard enough to bruise bone, and roared, "NOT TODAY!"
The drum caught. The barrels screamed again. Hivebugs vanished in a spray of gore.
From the burrows came something worse. A Tank-class Hivebug crawled into view, its titanic carapace glistening, claws gouging trenches into the earth. Each step shook the ground.
Bear's mech swiveled, plasma cannons blazing into its flank. The beast staggered but kept advancing.
Stone braced, pouring Shatterstorm fire into its armored plates. Shards sparked, chewing cracks into its shell but not deep enough.
"Not enough penetration!" Stone snarled.
Bear's voice strained over comms. "We need AP, Blake—now!"
In the command room, Sirius' fingers twitched.
> "Switching ammunition profile," ARI whispered. "Armor-Piercing engaged."
The next volley sounded different—sharper, denser. The Tank reeled as rounds punched into its joints, chitin cracking like glass.
Bear seized the chance. His mech's cannons roared, pouring plasma into the wound. The Tank convulsed, howled, and collapsed in a quake that shook dust from the canyon walls.
For a moment, the battlefield fell silent. Then soldiers erupted into cheers.
When the last drum clattered empty, the Shatterstorm hissed and smoked. Stone's arms trembled, the recoil still thrumming through his exosuit. He let the weapon lower, chest heaving.
Bear's mech crouched beside him, one massive hand resting on his shoulder. "You mad bastard. You actually did it."
Stone laughed breathlessly. "My bones are still rattling… but yeah. Worth it."
From the command room, Sirius threw back his head and howled with laughter. "HAHAHA! Did you see it, ARI? Did you SEE it? It works! It works!"
The FAWS techs nearby exchanged uneasy glances, muttering: "Lost cause."
But Chief Loras, arms folded at the back, only nodded. "Renegade Blake… you've done it again."
That night, Sirius sat alone with the Shatterstorm, its barrels scarred, cooling fins warped from heat. His fingers traced the steel, reverent, almost loving.
ARI's whisper returned.
> "Field trial success: confirmed. Efficiency rating: 71%. Mission incomplete: improvements required."
Sirius leaned his forehead against the weapon's frame, laughing softly. "You're not done yet, baby. But you screamed today. And the bugs screamed louder."
Outside, techs passed by, shaking their heads.
"Madman."
"Lost cause."
But Stone and Bear—who had stood with him in the fire—remained silent. Their silence was respect enough.
And Sirius? He was already thinking of Mk II.