The Prototype's cockpit felt different. Cold. Sterile. Nothing like Rustbucket, which always felt like an extension of his own body. When Kaelan entered Rustbucket, he felt that familiar hum—like reuniting with the other half of his soul.
"Lena, get back!" he shouted as the Prototype started moving.
This enemy wasn't like the others. Its movements weren't stiff or predictable. Like Rustbucket, it responded to something deeper than Aura.
"He's using Grit too!" Kaelan realized, dodging a slash that nearly tore off Rustbucket's arm.
"Where from?" Lena yelled from behind cover.
"Klaus…" Kaelan muttered, the truth sinking in. "He didn't just study me. He stole my Grit."
Through the Prototype's glass, Kaelan saw the shadowy pilot—a hollow-eyed man, his body hooked up to tubes and sensors. A puppet, forced to run on stolen Grit.
The battle raged. Every time Rustbucket adapted, the Prototype shifted to match. Two sides of the same coin, locked in a deadly mirror fight.
"See?" Klaus's voice boomed through the speakers. "This is the future! Grit can be replicated—CoNtrOllED!!!!!!"
But something was wrong. The Prototype moved wilder, its pilot screaming in agony as his body convulsed.
"He can't handle it!" Kaelan realized. "Grit isn't meant to be controlled!"
Then Kaelan did the unthinkable—he try opened a comm channel to the Prototype.
"You don't have to do this," he said, voice steady. "We're both victims."
The Prototype froze. The pilot's eyes met his—filled with pain, but also a flicker of humanity.
"Don't listen to him!" Klaus barked. "DESTROY!!!!!!!! RUSTBUCKET!!!!!!!"
But it was too late. Kaelan had grasped the truth of Grit. It wasn't about pain. It wasn't about rage. It was about understanding.
He poured himself fully into Rustbucket, feeling every bolt, every scar, every moment they'd fought together—even every memory of Yena.
"We're not weapons," he whispered. "We're a choice."
Rustbucket glowed with a light no one had ever seen before—a warm, white-red blaze, not the angry blood-red of before. The Prototype trembled as it felt that energy.
"No!" Klaus screamed. "WhATt AaRE YOU DOING????"
"I'm giving him a choice," Kaelan answered.
The Prototype went still. The shadow pilot smiled faintly, then ripped free of his bindings. For his final moment of freedom, he poured all the Prototype's power into its own core.
The explosion shook the entire complex. When the smoke cleared, all that remained of the Prototype was rubble—and a pilot finally freed from his torment.
Klaus stood frozen, pale, his grand plan shattered in an instant.
But Kaelan wasn't finished. Instead of striking at Klaus, he and Rustbucket turned, facing the Director's office directly.