[Durability/EMP/Limit]

gistfile1.txt

The Circuit Breaker warhead in the guided missile
detonated at one thousand feet above the township
of Rovesky. Designed to recreate the electromagnetic
pulse of a thirty-kiloton thermonuclear explosion, the
burst of radiation fused every last piece of unshielded
electronics in a thirty-mile radius. Even shielded electronics
such as those in the CELL APCs were overloaded
momentarily.
All the lights went out. The cobalt mine ceased work.
All comms went down. That part of Siberia practically
returned to a Stone Age level of technology in a
moment.

***

Psycho didn’t even have time to register the Aurora
Borealis-style light show in the magnetosphere. He
just hit the ground as all the suit’s systems went
down.
So reliant on the suit’s fusion with his dead flesh,
Prophet was dead before he hit the ground next to the
Londoner.

***

It had felt like sleep. It had felt welcoming, and cold.
The ten thousand volts coursing through dead flesh,
forcing sluggish systems in the suit’s living technology
back to life, felt less welcoming. It felt like fire surging
through him. He was screaming.
He rolled onto his front and forced himself onto all
fours. Let me die! he screamed silently at the suit. Just
one moment of weakness, then he was taking fire again.


NNOTE: Prophet actually was up and moving shortly after that EMP,
***

Short burst, correct aim, short burst, correct aim,
repeat. Walk in on the target. The twelve-gauge solid
shot slugs were impacting into the side of the moving
armoured figure (Prophet), knocking him over, battering him
across the ground. She emptied the extended magazine
of the automatic shotgun into him, ignoring the
other armoured figure paralysed on the ground. She
dropped the shotgun. She was appalled when he, it,
the thing she’d seen far below St. Petersburg, stood
up. She grabbed the weapon on her back and pulled it
round in front of her. The armoured thing staggered
towards her. She brought the weapon to her shoulder.
It raised its hand as if reaching for her. She fired the
netgun. The weighted high-tensile net, coated in industrial
adhesive, spread open in mid-air, propelled by the
four shotgun cartridges in each of the netgun’s barrels.
The weapon’s recoil staggered Amanda and she fell
backwards over some of the rubble. She found herself
staring numbly at the hand of a young woman sticking
out of the rubble. She looked over at the armoured
warrior that had killed so many of her friends. The net
had entangled him. He was trying to move, trying to
get the purchase to break it but he couldn’t. As solutions
went it had been around since the Stone Age. He
fell over. 

Crysis: Escalation, The Chance, Part 2