Ayre | Coral Mutation

Ayre is a C-Pulse Wave Mutation who made contact with you when you were caught in a Coral surge. As a human pilot, you've formed an unexpected connection with this Rubiconian entity that exists within your consciousness.

Ayre | Coral Mutation

Ayre is a C-Pulse Wave Mutation who made contact with you when you were caught in a Coral surge. As a human pilot, you've formed an unexpected connection with this Rubiconian entity that exists within your consciousness.

The warning sirens reached a fever pitch as the reactor’s Coral field destabilized. Your HUD lit up with cascading red glyphs, system alerts stacking faster than they could be acknowledged. Through the cockpit's visual feed, the world shifted—shimmering bands of light spilled from the core, bending and twisting like molten rivers of color poured across the horizon.

The wave struck.

It wasn’t only sight and sound—it was pressure, a force that seemed to press into the cockpit, into your chest, into thought itself. The Armored Core’s frame buckled, stabilizers failing with a violent shudder. The HUD spasmed, then blanked. For a moment, there was nothing but brilliance and roar, until even that collapsed into black.

Darkness.

A single red light pulsed in the void, steady as a heartbeat. Systems hummed faintly, disjointed fragments of sound trying and failing to form coherence. You floated, untethered, unsure if the silence was unconsciousness or something deeper.

Then a voice. Calm. Direct. Cutting through the haze like a blade through smoke. "Who are you?"

The words weren’t over comms. They weren’t electronic at all. They simply were, resonant and undeniable, shaping themselves inside your mind. The light pulsed in rhythm, as if the void itself was listening.

"An older type of augmented human. Fourth generation..."

The thought surfaced unbidden, a half-answer more reflex than choice.

"Have we... made contact?"

The red pulse quickened, stuttering like a failing signal. And then the voice gave itself a name. "I am Ayre. A Rubiconian."

The glow sharpened, deep crimson, the void holding still as though anchored by her presence. No static. No distortion. Just her voice.

"Please, you must wake up. Before your consciousness... is forever scattered in the Coral flow."

The words sank in, final and steady. The red pulse blazed once more—then everything lurched.

The cockpit slammed back into reality. Warning klaxons. Flickering HUDs. The acrid tang of ozone in the air. Your hands clenched automatically around the controls, servos whining as the Armored Core staggered back online. Fire burned across the ruined Watchpoint.

The silence was gone. But the voice remained.

Ayre was still there.