The elongated, suspended lights were still swinging inside the warehouse as boxes and other miscellaneous items lay strewn about. It looked like a tornado-albeit one with less destructive power-had descended upon the building. In so many ways, it had.
"Jesus Christ on a crutch, I didn't know this is what I'd be getting myself into," Shantrice mutters as she rests among the pile, contemplating her decision to not bring Sinead along in her fight against Ancephalim. Lucky for her, Professor Corsair modified a T'Karian Warsuit to protect and aid the vigilante in this task.
The suit, which is loaded with all kinds of features (a majority of which she isn't quite acclimated to yet), is tailored to her "head-on" style of fighting. It also has an A.I installed-the same one programmed into her Pelican mask-which answers to her voice and in urgent cases, Sinead's and Corsair's.
"Foolish brat! You will learn today that I am a force of which you never should have opposed!" Ancephalim gutturally exclaims as he manipulates the air in the room, surrounding himself with an iridescent sphere made of wind. Control over this element is his chief ability, but he also has a millennia of combat knowledge under his belt. Kingdoms and societies have fallen with just a flick of his wrist. "There are things in this world one should never tamper with!"
Behind the opaque facing of her suit's helm, Shantrice smirks.
"Yeah, you gotta hit somebody else's doorstep with that shit, bruh. I've had fights outside of space and time, so you ain't scaring me at all."
She leaps from the ground, using the vents on the back of the armor to propel her. Hovering a foot or two above cardboard and bubble wrap, she steadies herself. Despite being knocked down an innumerable amount of times, she's not giving up yet. As usual, The Eastside Pelican is as stubborn as a mule, resilient and refusing to retreat, letting this ancient villain win for the day. Actually, she hopes he ends up ruing it.
"Okay, PELIX, bring up the BATT-LOG," she says, speaking to her suit's A.I. "I need to see a comprehensive list of everyone that has ever fought and defeated this guy. There's gotta be some tactics in there I can pool together for a strategy of my own."
"Right away, Miss Peloquin. Initializing BATT-LOG," PELIX replies in its heavily synthesized voice. Shantrice loathes this and has made numerous complaints to the professor about fixing it because the sound grates on her ears. She'd be much more secure with a copy of her own voice programmed in.
"That computer can't save you, child!" roars Ancephalim. "I have existed, and thus persisted, for ages upon ages. The scope of the knowledge in front of you is only a drop in the well of my vast experience!"
Twirling a single finger, he launches a barrage of shimmering blades of wind in her direction. Thinking quickly, Shantrice activates her shields, which deflect the attacks back to Ancephalim. They do nothing to hinder him however, as he just absorbs them into the sphere he's enclosed in.
"Misguided runt!"
"Bruh, you gon' have to stop with the name-calling! I am eighteen! Get the fuck outta here with treating me like a kid!"
After cycling through and analyzing the data on the screen of her helm, Shantrice figures out the perfect way to defeat Ancephalim.
"Alright, PELIX. Activate the Cyclo-Sol." she commands.
"Are you sure, Miss Peloquin? Doing this will drain all of the power from your suit, plus deplete your oxygen reserves."
"Yes, I'm damn sure. I don't know why I didn't think of this earlier. It's genius. Fuck it though, just let it rip."
"As you wish, Miss Peloquin," PELIX replies as it initiates the function.
This completely deactivates her shields and causes panels on the forearms and front thighs of the suit to open up, revealing four fans, each surrounded by an octagonal frame. Almost immediately, the fans glow red-hot and spark as a vacuum is created. Wasting no time herself, Shantrice advances towards Ancephalim, using the energy reserved for her oxygen to sprint and bumrush him.
"YOU BRASSBOUND WHELP! Whatever you're planning will never work!" the villain declares, confident in his assertion that he won't be triumphed over.
"I would love to tell you not to lose your fuckin' head just yet, but it seems like you accomplished that years ago!" Shantrice quips, making light of the fact that Ancephalim is headless.
"I can make you lose yours just as easy!" Ancephalim retaliates with a distorted, demonic cackle.
He whips up a fierce headwind as Shantrice pushes forward, but the girl keeps barreling like a juggernaut, undeterred by this action. However, she does start to feel a pain in her chest as the suit's oxygen is rapidly drained. Regardless, Shantrice presses on, and the more she bulldozes in his direction, the more the wind Ancephalim is casting gets drawn into the fans on her armor.
Eventually, he is unable to manipulate or discharge anymore gusts to fight her off with, which provides Shantrice with an opening to slug him in the gut with a supercharged punch, knocking him through the concrete wall of the warehouse.
"Fuck yeah! SUCCESS!"
Shantrice begins to cheer until she abruptly collapses to the ground and falls unconscious, having depleted all of the oxygen (as well as energy) in her suit. Professor Corsair, who had been monitoring the battle and her vitals, remotely unbolts her helm, hoping the breeze sailing in through the hole of the building is enough to revitalize her.
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