Note: I am currently editing the prologue. There will be inconsistencies in the narration, including, but not limited to, incomplete scenes or paragraphs, missing paragraphs, missing dialogue, and poor descriptions. This will all be fixed soon. Please bear with me.

The ground and hills shook in the presence of the ongoing battle. It was a battle of metal, fire, explosives, and massive machines. The tree line split, swayed, cracked, and fell as one such machine charged through, leaving splintered trees in its wake. Massive stones, older than civilization itself stood no chance under its massive, squared heel. Its titanic form was a wall of marching metallic vengeance, its silhouette obscured from the shoulders up by a block of metal, housing its main gun.

Despite the BattleMech's terrifying splendor, it was far from being in optimal working order. Having just barely escaped a greater attacker, the pilot was forced to examine the damage through his display. Much of its rear armor was stripped away by flanking enemy fire, with its front armor having taken its own share of beating. It was this same enemy fire which had taken the 'Mech's right arm. Outside the missing arm, the Hunchback had yet to take any critical damage. “This is MechWarrior Richards.” he said into the comms, with a hoarse and shaking voice. “Requesting immediate assistance.” He pulled his 'Mech to a stop, sweat beading above his brow, and falling down the side of his nose. He just now noticed the tremors in his hands.

'How are they holding that hill?' he thought to himself. 'We outnumber them at least twofold. This is my first mission as a MechWarrior. I can't afford to disappoint.'

After a seemingly eternal second, his comm cracked a response. “This is Commander Nixon." the voice was aged. Frustration and fear gripped each word. Gun and laser fire roared over the comms. "What's your status?" Richards looked over his display, finally noticing the damage his 'Mech had taken. "My Hunchback's taken a beating, sir. I'm out of position, hence my previous request." Nixon's reply was delayed. "We're a bit preoccupied at the moment. You'll have to meet up at the following coordinates." Richards looked down at his console. Next to the damage display was his neon-lit digital map. A blue diamond shape pinged one specific spot to represent the objective location. Salvation. He looked up and saw the same blue diamond on his HUD. Only then did the grim reality of his situation set in, the sense of relief was lost.

Assuming the marker showed his lance’s position, they were on the other side of a hill. The opposing force had just dug in, halting the allied advance. Nothing could get through. Or at least, so they thought. Somehow, Richards had slipped through the cracks and was deep in enemy territory. He needed to get around the hill and back to his original position.

He resumed his sprint, and adjusted course to circle around the hill and back to a friendly position. He could not hide his movements, as any motion from his 'Mech would tear down trees and crush stone. He could only hope he'd slip out through the same crack in the enemy defenses.

Not long after he adjusted course, his comm cracked again. “Richards, what’s your ETA?” said the Commander. Before he could answer, his 'Mech stepped into a clearing, where he came face-to-face with the enemy. Richards' sensors identified the 'Mech as a Centurion. It was tall, broad, with a form that resembled its namesake, complete with a shield on its left arm, while its right held its massive main cannon. It had taken no visible damage, a stark contrast to Richards' own battered machine.

Richards didn't wait, or give his enemy the chance to make the first move. He fired his main autocannon, and a low rumble filled the forest. A shockwave reverberated through the cockpit, interrupting Richards' breathing, forcing a dry cough to leave his lungs. A sensation he'd felt many times before.

The Centurion turned its facing, so the shield took the blow. A bright orange flash filled Richards' view as the shell went off, and shrapnel sprayed the forest floor. The blanket of green grass was torn open and turned over. Sparks flew off the Hunchback's armor as the shrapnel was deflected. As he advanced, his enemy stepped back, sending a wave of missiles from its shoulder into Richards. His armor was worn worryingly thin, but he fired again. The shell sailed clean over the Centurion's head, clearing the way for it to fire back. The blow tore through the Hunchback's armor, carving into, and completely demolishing his main gun.

Utter panic grasped Richards' mind. He frantically fired his only two weapons. Green and red beams sprung forth from what was left of his 'Mech. The shots were rushed, and did not make contact. The Centurion fired its main autocannon. For the briefest moment, Richards saw the massive shell flying straight at him. In that moment, he realized what was about to happen, but his mind had not the time to articulate it.

The cockpit completely caved in as the shell made impact, and was ripped apart as the shell's explosive charge went off. The Hunchback came to a screeching halt, as the force of the projectile and the blast tipped it onto its back against a hill.

That hillside would be both Richards' and the Hunchback's resting place for a long time.