1You ever go on a mission without enough ammunition and then either die or flee whilst cursing? And have to face the "mission failed" music for the thousandth time? This is a story about that.
Determination. Style. Bravery. All three were required to complete the mission. When all was said and done, there would be a heap of dead Metal Heads, exploded gun turrets and the Sewers smelling a little sweeter.
A collection of steps posed no threat to the blonde; without even breaking a sweat, he jumped them in one and gracefully landed on his feet. Skull gems shimmered in the gloom ahead, although the creatures appeared oblivious to the threat. Not that it made a difference either way. The demolition duo possessed the Precursors' favour, Jak, the Morph Gun, Jak and a particular set of skills.
Not to mention Jak.
"Let's kick some ass!" the ottsel roared, voice echoing in the somewhat narrow chamber.
"Yeah!" the blonde cheered his agreement and raised the Blaster, rushing into danger and ready to turn everything into mincemeat. His finger pulled the trigger.
Click.
Blue optics lowered to the weapon, countenance arranged in a quizzical frown. Each attempt gave the same result. Empty.
At that moment, the armoured creatures turned towards the noise and stared, curious about the victorious cries and a lack of impending gunfire.
"Crap," came the pair's cries. It was incentive enough for the beasts to slink forwards. Jak slowly turned on his heel and nonchalantly wandered away, whilst Daxter kept lookout on the former's shoulder. As expected, the beasts followed. This continued for the entirety of the trip to the elevator.
Ten feet from the door, the blonde abruptly paused. Practically at his heels, the Metal Heads cocked their heads to one side and attempted to understand the human's movements. For a good minute, both sides studied one another in silence.
Adrenaline built up in the blonde's body was released and he zoomed for the exit, managing to trip only once and avoid fearsome claws attempting to slice into his flesh. Fortunately, the boys safely reached their destination. The door slid into place, lock rotating, and the elevator soared up to the surface, leaving behind the frustrated grunts of the enemy.
Outside, in the Industrial zone – heavenly, by contrast – the demolition duo stopped to relax. They chose the nearest wall to slump against, fighting for breath.
"Damn, that was close…" Jak understated.
"You can say that again," Daxter agreed, with a fatigued nod.
"Okay, new plan. We go back to the Gun Course, grab some ammo, then come back."
"And kick some ass!"
"YEAH!"
A fist bump later, they rose to their feet and prepared to face the Sewers once more.
