Story [Issue 7] Smoky XT Chronicles: Exploration

[Tommy60 406]

Smoky XT Chronicles: Exploration
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These last few days and nights toward the mountain have been rather peaceful and relaxing, despite the constant sightings of movement in the terrain far above us; they know that we are coming, and we know that they are waiting for us. I bring this realization to my golden companion's attention, and he decides that, for the remainder of the day, we shall maintain our current heading. Shortly after nightfall, he tells me, we should backtrack a few kilometers down the mountain, the veer off to our present left-tread side of the mountain. I agree, and we continue on up, driving around boulders and over piles of debris left by presumably natural events.

Milan has been quiet for quite some time now. I mean, he has never been the kind to talk for the sake of talking, but he is being unnaturally silent. Perhaps he is forming a new battle technique, thinking about events of long past, or simply just choosing to be quiet, for lack of something to discuss. Every time I see his optics pick up another black silhouette peering over a precipice in the far distant backdrop, his silence grows louder, in a manner of speaking.

Night has now fallen upon us, with our last glimpse of the sun fading over the right side of the mountain. Without bothering to rotate our bodies, Milan and I simply turn our turrets in opposite the opposite direction, and quickly descend down the path we had just came from. As we navigate around an outcropping of boulders averaging 3 meters in height, we veer off to our present right, shortly before each of us activate our exterior color panels, and change to a sleek, black coat. This is the first time I have seen my companion without his majestic coating. While still bearing the same dents as before, I cannot hlep but notice how...different, he appears. He seems now to be another simple tank from the battlefield. Hurriedly, both he and I observe our surroundings, to garuantee ourselves that not a camera is watching us. As far as I can tell, there is not a circuitboard in sight.

The remainder of the night is filled with the low, rumbling murmur of our nitro-powered engines moving treads across a rocky terrain. This is the first time he and I have used our stored supplies for some reason other than battle. It feels nice to cover so much ground in such a short amount of time, as compared to my regular speed. Even with our additional speed, we are still careful in staying out of view from the upper cliffs and ridges of the mountain, stying on the opposite sides of ditches, trees, and shrubs.

As dawn slowly makes itself known by gradually lighting the night sky's hue of dark, ominous blue, Milan and I halt abruptly. Just emerging from a dense overgrowth of a colurful species of ferns, we find ourselves on the rim of a shallow crater on the slope of the mountain. Sure, we have gone in and out of deeper ditches before, but this one is different. Much different. The two of us are met with the sight of tens of broken, battered, sheared, burned, and mutilated tank components carelessly literred among the dip in the ground. That is not the extraordinary part, however. It is obvious to tell the paintings of these tanks; the three colors of battlefield legend. Demolsihed Mammoth tanks with remnants of the Acid paint, the coat given to the best individual players of all time, freeze turrets with Alligator paintings show the final resting place of the battlefield supervisors, coordinators, and law enforcement officers. And finally, tanks and wepaons of all kinds, horribly bent out of shape and ripped to shreds, are visibly encased in the golden paint I had grown accustommed to seeing upon my living friend. Our party of two does not move for quite some time. "What," I think to myself "could do this to these guys?" They were known as the elites of my world, my home. None would dare oppose their authority, and leave without respawning a hundredfold more than they ever had before. And here they are, my heroes and leaders alike, all tossed around and crushed like recruits. Dead recruits. I notice that this crater seems to be the bottom of a long trail of similarly literred by shrapnel and corpses, steadily running up the course of the mountainside.

Silence ensues for a while longer, until it is broken by the clicking of Milan's plating reverting to their preferred state of majestic, beaming gold. "We are finding who did this to my friends, and wea re going to make them pay." Are my friend's only words. Never before had I heard such anger embedded in such a matter-of-fact; Though no emotion was directly alluded to, one could tell how every syllable was painstakingly held back from exploding with an omnipotent rage, which no being living (or dead, for that matter) would want to witness firsthand. We quickly take the perpendicualr and parallel path directly up the mountain, nitro and double armor supplies activated at every sixty second interval.

Though I cannot begin to comprehend what I am letting myself get in to, a foreign voice ensures me that all will be fine. Without physically stopping, I do a full three-hundred-sixty degree turn of my turret. Not a living being is in sight. However, the voice persists for a few minutes longer, until I realize that this strange, unknown voice is coming from within my own being. My thought processor's circuitry seems to have a subliminal message fading in and out of my mind. "Come to me, my little tank. All will be fine when you are with us, and your friend is among the dead."
 

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Next Issue: Confrontation

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Edited July 31, 2017 by Hexed
Text

[mkkmkk999 33]

first

[r_BLASTOISE-T120 241]

hardly playing the game anymore. point blank, the paper is one of the few reasons why i still come to the forum here and there ;)

[Raphael2 3,263]

Me too‚ even if im less active than i used toi D:

[r_The-Player20 313]

Wish this was longer. Love these stories.

[Tommy60 406]

Wish this was longer. Love these stories.

 

Sorry about the size this issue; I was loaded with tests and exams for the past month. Next issue will have more quantity to it. :)

[Alklines 1,751]

meh

[Tommy60 406]

meh

Care to elaborate on that? I can't improve the next edition's content unless I know what readers don't like about this one.

[chriswu 25]

meh

[youcefboy 16]

When Smoky XT Is coming to garage ?

 

when we Can buy It ? And how Much crystal's ! ?

[Tommy60 406]

When Smoky XT Is coming to garage ?

 

when we Can buy It ? And how Much crystal's ! ?

 

You won't. The actual Smoky XT gun was released for one week, over one year ago. It will most probably never come back to the garage.

[BoRn.To.Be.WiLd 29]

Nice Job Tommy B)

[Valletta 834]

Really nicely done,Tommy! You're not too far from a professional writer, if I do say so myself ;)

[hogree 4,179]

Man, I enjoyed reading that. Fabulous work tommy. :)

[SN7 256]

imagine an isida XT...

[titanosi 0]

I am Russian

[terminatorius202 0]

naiys :lol: