Trainer — Mothergunship: Forge

The recoil should have shattered your arm, but the Trainer compensates, turning the kickback into a kinetic shield. A literal wall of fire, blades, and electrified lead erases the front line of the swarm in a single heartbeat. You aren't just fighting through the ship; you are rewriting its physics.

"Standard weapon protocols are for the weak," you mutter, slamming a chaotic assortment of rocket pods, sawblade launchers, and lightning coils onto your wrist-mounted chassis. The Trainer hums, bypassing the ship's safety limiters. Normally, this many attachments would melt a suit’s power grid, but the Trainer forces the energy to flow, creating a weapon that looks more like a metal briar patch than a gun. MOTHERGUNSHIP: FORGE Trainer

As you dive deeper into the metallic gut of the MOTHERGUNSHIP, the AI’s voice booms, confused and flickering. It cannot calculate your damage output. It cannot predict your fire rate. To the machine mind, you have become a glitch in its perfect genocide. The recoil should have shattered your arm, but