After several deep breaths, he pressed his face to the plate and submerged his consciousness into the metal. Deep down, he hoped he would still be useful.Īs the liquid mana reached his neck, he knocked on the side and the flow reduced to a trickle and then stopped. The vast majority of the soldiers he met in the mess or passed in the halls were younger and hungrier than he.
He may have gained a great deal of experience and levels since the last time he’d fought this deep, but very little of that was relevant to the type of combat engaged down here. Titus was under no illusions that he would be able to perform as well as he could in his prime. Was it really just because she yearned for the good old days, the two of them fighting shoulder to shoulder in the depths? Or was there something else that she wanted? Not for the first time, he wondered why Minerva had used her authority to drag him back down here. There was no help for it though, he was committed. Many times during the long years he had spent on the surface, he had yearned for this, but now that the moment was here, he felt a little trepidation. After a few moments to acclimate, he knocked on the side with his knuckles and moments later felt the burning cold of liquid mana running down his back and rising from between his toes.Ī mix of nerves and anticipation rose in Titus as he felt the power rushing through his veins. When everything was cleared, Titus nodded in thanks and climbed up the back of the suit, sliding inside and closing it behind him. Exposure to the sort of mana levels that were needed to operate the Praetorian suits could have a devastating effect on a soldier, and the signs could appear out of nowhere. A last second check over the armour, ensuring there were no obvious flaws, as well as a quick look over Titus himself. “Heading out for real this time?” Engineer Griner noted as he started to help Titus prep. Adaptability was simply another of her strengths.
Unlike him, who had requested his old gear, Minerva had been more than happy to jump into a new berserker model. “I prefer to call it ‘reliable and battle tested’”, he said sagely, but Minerva wasn’t listening, already having jogged down the armoury toward her own suit of Praetorian armour. The Indomitable might have seen better days, but it certainly didn’t deserve to be disparaged like that! “Go jump into your old bucket of bolts and I’ll meet you out there.” I’ll be in your hands, Commander,” he snapped out a brisk salute and got punched in the arm for his trouble. “I’ll be counting on you to cover for my lapses then. It’s only the two of us going out, isn’t it?” “That’s why you’ll need to make sure you’re in the right frame of mind to pick up the slack. “You’re telling me to make sure I’m sharp? You haven’t sortied in two decades! I was out yesterday.” “Fine, just make sure you’re sharp when we get out there,” he growled. She got away with it due to being one of the best fighters ever to pull on a suit of Legionary armour. The part of him famed for its iron disciplinarianism found it endlessly frustrating. Part of him loved her for that, the part that viewed her as his wife and the mother of his children. The moment she was freed from the responsibilities, pomp and ceremony attached to the role, she had reverted back to her more relaxed ways. A small part of him had hoped that the dignity Minerva had cultivated in the highest office in the Legion would have rubbed off on her, but alas, it did not appear to be the case. “I’m not Consul any more,” Minerva responded, “so if I want to express my happiness, then I will.” The troops expect a little more decorum from a Consul.” “Wipe that grin off your face,” Titus muttered.
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