The Eighteenth Angel-storyI n the olden days, no one used robots to fight. It was all done with hands, swords, armor and shields. On the fields of ancient Rome, a legionnaire could count on their gladius to work for them, rain of snow. The tools of war used to be reliable.
That was millennia ago.
The angel came in for another hit on Cobalt's lame chassis, smashing against its shield with a flaming sword.
"Asuka, how much longer till you restore the Oracle?!"
"I'm working on it, Riddick! The Magi aren't doing much. I'm not sure, but I think the angel gave you a virus. Either that or The Lone Oracle doesn't want to cooperate." Asuka shouted back over the intercom. It was amazing that the intercom worked still, considering that everything in Cobalt's cockpit was flashing between static images and pictures of some archaic actor named Richard Dean Anderson. Who was Richard Anderson anyway?
The angel, Morningstar, came in for another hit. It landed directly on the mech's