Insidious Incendiaries! – The Pyro vs. The Meta

: Alright, our fighters are ready!

Catch the Prelude Here: Insidious Incendiaries – The Pyro vs. The Meta | Prelude

: Between these masked marauders, who will outgun the other?

: Let’s find out in the Clash! Yeah… I don’t like either of these characters. You pick first.

: Hmmm… I’ll take Pyro then. They seem to have a pretty neat skillset and I used to play a lot of Pyro back in the good ol’ days of TF2… Before the bots invaded…

: Uh… You okay Lash? You’re shaking… Pretty violently too.

: Ah, yes, I’m… I’m fine. At least, I hope. I just remembered spinning men and the sound of screams…

: Cool beans, I’ll take dome head then.

* * *

Location: Yukon, 6:00pm

Another dusty, cool day in the gravel pits. The teams had retreated, once more unable to wrest control of the area from their opposition. The patchwork outpost remains stout, as though the miniature warzone that encompassed it had not existed moments ago. Black stains of soot and gravel kicked loose by numerous active feet are this locale’s only evidence of what had transpired.

Except, of course, for a small trail of flames that refuses to peter out. They burn, almost with a will all their own. To an ordinary person, these flames would be meaningless, just leftovers from the earlier brawl, likely still burning from some spilt kerosene or oil. But to one spying on the former battleground through a visor with thermal tracking, each little fire becomes a very real threat.

The Meta peers around each corner, wary of any potential foes who may have chosen to linger after the large scuffle. He proceeds, and as he does, multiple miniature forms clad in armor all call for different actions in The Meta’s head, clamoring for dominance. Meta can’t understand them, not well at least. However, he manages to understand the general idea of what they want from him: They want him to keep moving and find another A.I. Fragment.

* * *

Meanwhile, a figure from the earlier battle, The Pyro, trudges back to base. While they were disappointed that they could no longer play with the enemy team, they were more dejected to have to put their Rainblower away. It was such a fanciful day of spreading joy and happiness too…

The Pyro hazards one last glance back at the path to the central control point, and notices small tufts of color rising from the ground. The mercenary follows the small trail of colors, each small tuft of flames growing larger and larger and getting Pyro giddier and giddier.

It didn’t take long for the trail to run dry, as Pyro sees it stop right before the central building. Pyro looks it over and decides that the flames must continue further in. Perhaps some potential new friends could be the ones behind this?

* * *

The Meta approaches the central bridge of Yukon, where the capture point is located. As he does, he sees a figure at the other end of the bridge. From his view, a thermal sight of oranges and greens, with a deep red at its center. He deactivates the thermals and beholds for himself the red-clad pyrotechnician standing opposite him.

Likewise, The Pyro comes to a stop, staring with their head cocked at the large man in white armor. Pyro approaches at a comfortable speed, no hesitation in their movements.

Meanwhile, The Meta pulls out the Brute Shot and holds it at the ready, curious of this foe and what relevance it may have to his mission.

The two meet before the bridge’s center. They watch each other carefully. Suddenly, the A.I. Fragments all appear, creating a cacophony in Meta’s head once more. When Pyro lays their eyes on the A.I. that seems to be draped in fire, Sigma, they drop their Flamethrower and try to reach out for the small, brilliantly colorful figure floating in the air.

The Meta quickly jams his Brute Shot’s barrel into Pyro’s chest, pushing them back several steps. Meta recognizes the Pyro’s actions as trying to take the A.I. from him. The Pyro, on the other hand, only wants to inspect the fusion of friend and fire, finding its existence interesting.

They stand, facing each other once more, a growing, hostile tension blanketing the air without either party realizing it’s there. Pyro grasps their Flamethrower and holds it ready.

Seems like the cold afternoon is about to get much warmer.

* * *

* * *

The Meta is the first to shoot, firing a grenade directly at The Pyro. Responding swiftly, Pyro’s hand twitches and from the barrel of the Flamethrower bursts a blast of air, knocking the grenade backward. It collides with Meta, exploding in a glow of orange and blue. Meta stumbles back a step before shaking off the brunt of the blast.

Pyro quickly follows up, however, spraying flames over their opponent and lighting him ablaze. As The Meta tries to push through the flames, the mercenary rushes forward, not letting up on the stream of fire. They plant the barrel of the Flamethrower into Meta’s chest and pushes him backward, forcing the Freelancer slayer to tumble backward.

Raising up to one knee, Meta holsters the grenade launcher on his back and pulls out his magnum, firing several shots at The Pyro. The fire-blower immediately recognizes the threat and backs off. Bullets ping off the Flamethrower, now an impromptu shield, as Pyro leaps off the side of the bridge to take cover.

Maine gets back to his feet. Instead of giving chase, he steps backward, slowly disappearing as he camouflages into his surroundings.

Tinted lenses scour Pyro’s surroundings, searching for their foe. As Pyro’s breathing grows heavy, they cautiously peek up, trying to catch a glimpse of their foe. It appears the strange man in white has left, and only moments after realizing this, an unseen fist collides with Pyro’s cheek. They look back, seeking their assailant. Their eyes meet with nothing. Pyro’s head whips with frenzied glances around themselves, attempting to track their foe’s position. Their Flamethrower is stripped from their hands by the same unseen foe.

“Mmmph!” Pyro shouts with a muffle, watching as the Flamethrower hovers for a moment, then sails away in the air the next.

“Khrrrlrlrlrllr…” The Meta replies listlessly, sneaking around Pyro and unleashing a series of kicks and punches across their body.

Pyro lifts their arms in order to protect themselves, and manages to duck under a stray invisible fist. The illusory Meta is surprised by the dodge, but Pyro reveals that it was an unintentional dodge moments later as the scent of gasoline permeates the stiff northern air. Pyro lifts their new item over their head, a can of gas to the outside observer, and chucks it at their feet. An iridescent plume of green covers an area around them, the wet material dripping down Meta’s camouflaged armor and giving him away.

*Hisssss…*

Stepping forward, paying no heed to the cloud around him, Meta closes the distance. He reels back a fist, ready to perforate the Pyro’s mask, until Pyro holds a match up in Meta’s face. Before Meta can even register the threat, Pyro, with a muffled giggle, strikes the match.

*BOOOOOM!!*

An airborne Meta crashes into a nearby wall, energy shield flickering off. Meta peels himself out of the wall, only to meet Pyro’s Fire Axe swinging in and leaving a scrape on Meta’s armor. The A.I. Hunter backs up, avoiding wild axe swings, until his back is at a wall. Pyro cleaves into the monster’s bicep.

“RRrggghg…” Meta groans in discomfort.

He plants a foot in Pyro’s chest, pushing the mercenary away. Meta takes stock of the axe lodged in his arm, and pulls it out with his off-hand. With an effortless snap, the axe is no longer a factor.

Pyro rushes back into the fray, pulling out a grey glove. They lean in with their knuckles and Meta recoils, but moments later feels a light slap on his helmet. He looks at his assailant slapping his body all over, with little effect. Meta cocks his head is confusion and lets loose a real punch, sending his foe stumbling goofily away.

A blue energy field coats Meta, notifying him the shield is back. While The Pyro is off-balance, Maine swoops in with excellent speed and grips Pyro in a harsh chokehold. Struggling, but to no avail, Pyro wrestles. It’s no use, the Meta’s grip was like titanium. Pyro would have an easier time breaking out of a stockade than this ex-military fighter’s grasp. Finally having cornered the slippery pyromaniac, Meta squeezes tighter.

*Cha-clunk chrenk!*

Pyro’s canister backpack suddenly expands, transforming and breaking out of Meta’s grasp. With a surge of heat and the smell of propane, Pyro climbs skyward, leaving a weak burst of air and the smell of charred meat in their wake. Meta watches his foe, pulling out his Brute Shot once more. He aims at Pyro, only for the red-clad fighter to divebomb into Meta, sweeping him off his feet.

Meta gets back up and fires a salvo of grenades into the air, none of which meeting their mark. Pyro keeps safely swooping on their foe, landing kick after tackle after headbutt. Meta lets out an aggressive hiss in frustration and runs to the adjacent building. The Pyro gives chase, aiming to divebomb Meta with another attack.

Avoiding the ensuing airborne hothead with a somersault, Meta keeps running. Pyro flies in for another body slam, but Maine runs up the side of the building and vaults off. Before the enigma can react, Meta pulls the Brute Shot’s bladed stock across the Thermal Thruster, slicing a rocket off the pack.

Pyro loses control, crashing into the wall and falling to the ground below, jetpack ruined. With his foe grounded now, Meta proceeds with his grenade fire. Pyro somersaults under a round narrowly avoiding an explosion. Brandishing the Scorch Shot, they return fire.

Cylindrical projectiles fly across the battlefield, neither one meeting their mark due to their respective evasive measures. While Pyro uses quick sidesteps and crouches, Meta pivots out of the smaller projectiles’ way.

That is, until a flare collides with Meta’s chest knocking him off his feet. As Meta gets up, the flare detonates on the ground, engulfing him in flames. Maine, wreathed in fire, merely looks at Pyro with his head tilted down, clearly agitated. The A.I. appear once more and mutter curses and plans to the Meta, telling him what to do.

Pyro sheathes their flare gun and pulls out a new flamethrower, one larger than him with a pressure valve on the side. Breaking into a swift stride, Meta sprints at The Pyro, firing grenade after grenade. But, the mercenary stood their ground, aiming carefully as grenades detonate all around them. They squeeze the trigger and out flies a fireball directly into the ablaze Meta.

In a flourish of flames, the flames push Meta back, his energy shields deactivating once again. Looking at his BioScan, The Meta recognizes the real danger of that flamethrower’s attack. Pyro lets loose another salvo, raining hellfire on their foe. Maine responds by putting away his primary and punching the ground, several hexagons manifesting and erecting into a domed energy shield around him. The fireballs glance harmlessly off the dense shield.

The mercenary cocks their head and approaches the shield, sheathing their flamethrower and pulling out a shotgun with a cylindrical magazine. They fire, only for several bullets to ricochet and cut into their arm.

The Pyro looks to their foe, only to find they have disappeared again. Panicking, much like the namesake of their weapon, Pyro fires around themselves, leaving a spread of pellet holes in the ground surrounding them. They put away the gun and pull out another Gas Passer can, reeling it back to throw… Yet The Pyro’s arm wouldn’t let it loose. An invisible hand grips the cremator’s wrist tightly, the sounds of bones groaning and cracking can be heard.

Struggling once more, Pyro tries to wrestle free, but…

*CRACK.*

Pyro’s arm goes limp and The Meta wrests the Gas Passer out of their grasp, throwing it away. With the new limpness of their arm, Pyro is able to whip their hand out of Meta’s grip. It dangles uselessly at their side, clearly dislocated. Thanks to Pyro being distracted by the discomfort of their newly mangled limb, Meta lands a dropkick into Pyro’s chest, sending them skidding across the Yukon dirt.

Struggling to their knees, Pyro grips their arm tightly and forcefully pops their arm back into place. They crack their neck intimidatingly, lowering their gaze to emulate glowering.

“Mmmmph-mmph!” Pyro states defiantly, raising their formerly dislocated arm triumphantly.

Meta only pulls out their Brute Shot again and fires a grenade. Pyro pulls out their Degreaser with lightning-fast speed and leaps, compression blasting the grenade into the ground. Using the shockwave of the bomb, Pyro sails through the air and easily closes the distance between the two fighters. Meta swaps to his magnum and desperately fires shot after shot. The flames burn intensely, melting the bullets into molten lead, which simply cascade off the Pyro’s suit.

Landing on The Meta and tackling them to the ground, Pyro lets the flaming tongue of their flamethrower burn at Maine, causing his energy shield to disperse after only a few seconds of exposure. In a desperate move, Meta pulls the Brute Shot out and swipes at Pyro, slicing the Degreaser in half. Reciprocating, Pyro brandishes a rake and impales Meta’s shoulder deeply with it.

Meta manages to thread his foot between them and pushes Pyro off. Sanguine fluid oozes from both fighter’s wounds. Guttural hisses and groans come from The Meta, while Pyro merely laughs, though it comes out more muffled than their muffles thanks to the blood dripping from the mask’s filter.

The Brute Shot is holstered again and Maine pulls the Back Scratcher from his shoulder, throwing it away. He pulls out two SMGs, training their combined fire on his foe, who, after taking several bullets ducks behind a nearby rock. Cornered, all Pyro can do is return fire blindly with their Shotgun, their fingers getting pricked by the occasional stray bullet.

Closing in, The Meta’s SMGs quickly run out of ammo. Pyro sees an opportunity and emerges from the rock, blasting Meta thrice in the chest. Meta looks at his chest, unaffected by the pellets. With a swift, ungraceful movement, he swings out his Brute Shot, cutting the Shotgun in half.

Pyro stumbles back into the rock behind them and Meta goes in for a lunge, only to be intercepted by the Homewrecker. Meta, grabs at the sledge and pulls it out of Pyro’s grip, then pins one of Pyro’s arms to the rock wall behind them. Pyro reaches out their off-hand, but Meta mercilessly slashes it away with his stock. Without an utterance, he unceremoniously impales Pyro through the chest with the bladed stock.

“Mmmph…!?” Pyro mutters, fingers trembling as they reach for the blade.

“Hrrggghghghgh…” Meta groans triumphantly, cocking his head as he plunges it deeper.

Though Pyro’s blood streamed from their chest, their thoughts seemed to drift…

* * *

Pyro’s vision seemed to glitch in and out, almost as though their vision was changing TV channels. What was once an idyllic utopia of greens and blues, merriment and fun, candy and rainbows, turned… Boring. The midday sun shined harshly onto Pyro’s mask’s lenses for the first time in a long time. No longer was he playing games with a naughty little troublemaker who was keeping a new friend from him, he now saw the orange visor that holds rage and ambition.

Their head shot down, viewing their profusely bleeding torso. They reach for the blade, what they originally thought to be a lollipop, now lodged in their chest. As it plunges further in, Pyro’s eyes cringe from the immense pain.

Pyro’s body goes limp. The lenses of their mask hide any hints of lingering conscience, but Pyro’s eyes beyond those started to shut.

“Mph…” They manage.

But… This wasn’t right. The Pyro’s brow furrowed. Their eyes open slowly, as if they had come to some epiphany. Who knows what bizarre musing lay beyond that mask? What damned dreams of torment and suffering hide beyond their enigmatic stoicism? But to The Pyro, they just didn’t want to say goodbye yet.

* * *

Meta had killed his obstacle, and he went to pull the Brute Shot from his victim. However, a gloved hand reaches up to grip the grenade launcher. Letting out a bizarre-sounding hiss, Meta simply pulls the Brute Shot…

But it doesn’t give. Pyro holds on.

Meta struggles, yanking on the stock as much as he could, but Pyro held it tight within them. Maine reels a fist back to punch Pyro’s face, but the pyromaniac looks up into Meta’s mask, and it was as though Maine saw the eyes of a demon. Pyro whips their head back and smashes their face into Meta’s own, causing the brute to stumble backward and their mask to crack.

Pyro pulls the weapon out of their chest and discards it toward Meta, as though to issue a challenge. They then pull out two axes, one shining gold with barbed wire wreathing its blade and another glowing a solemn orange with the darkest obsidian to contain its thousand-degree blade. Maine retrieves his beloved weapon, and the two watch each other with baited breath.

On the call of a drop of magma falling from the Volcano Fragment, the two resume as it touches the ground.

Meta fires a volley of grenades at Pyro, who simply ducks and somersaults around them. As Meta hears the click of an empty barrel, he resorts to using the bladed stock. He rushes forward to meet his foe, and they duke it out, blade to blade.

Hot magma courses across one blade, while the other emanates a bizarre power. The Meta dances with the Pyro in their flurry of slashes and parries. Pyro aims high and Meta receives, yet Pyro reaches low and Meta jumps. Still locked in their struggle, Pyro slams Meta into the ground. The Volcano Fragment seethes and hisses, burning a deep gash into the Brute Shot. In another instant…

*SMASH!*

The Brute Shot crumbles, falling to pieces. Yet, the Volcano Fragment is not yet finished, starting to tear through Meta’s chest. The energy paling on the armor falls almost instantly, and the Hephaestus Armor starts to hiss as well, bubbling hot with molten metal. Flames engulf The Meta once more, but without the energy shield to protect him, he feels the burn.

The Axtinguisher cleaves into Meta’s gut next, digging deep, stinging even more sensitively thanks to the flames that drown him.

In a last ditch effort, Meta tries to shoot the Pyro’s head, pulling out the magnum again and firing it. Bits of the Pyro’s mask are blown off and chunks of what could only be their skull come tumbling out. Yet, an obscured, dark, and bloodlusted eye is still keenly trained on Meta’s face, Pyro’s breathing seething like quiet, wheezing laughter.

Meta kicks Pyro away, somersaulting backward and firing multiple shots into Pyro’s chest, only for them all to have little effect.

“Mmmmmmmph.” Pyro mutters, discarding the axes behind them.

The Pyro pulls out a futuristic-looking gun, with the same profile as one of their flamethrowers, and raises it into the air, laughing muffled, but maniacal regardless.

And… Then it seems like time stands still.

Meta gets up and walks over to The Pyro, placing a sticky grenade on their face. Meta retreats back to where he stood and, with an arc of electricity running across his chest, his systems fail and time resumes. Pyro’s flamethrower glows bright red as they’re engulfed in a blue explosion, the smoke of which obscuring vision of the masked maniac.

The A.I. Hunter caresses his injuries and turns away for a moment, only for the sound of crackling sparks to erupt from behind. Meta holds up his arms and lowers himself as he’s blasted by waves of burning scientific particles. Through the smoke shone the remaining glass of the Pyro’s mask and the tip of their Phlogistinator.

Meta stepped further into the scientific spray, feeling his armor’s temperature skyrocket, burning his skin and melting his suit. He still pushes through. The A.I. manifest and glitch out, turning almost to static, all repeating to “GeT ThEm!”

Pyro steps forward, training the center of the spray, the most intense portion, directly on Maine, until he reaches out and grabs the Phlogistinator’s barrel. He quickly pulls it from Pyro’s grip and strikes him in the head with its handle, knocking the mercenary back a step. Pyro pulls out their Powerjack to retaliate, but then, a sharp feeling in their neck stops them.

A piece of the broken Brute Shot, a leftover shard of its stock, was tactically inserted into Pyro’s neck and, with a swift twist, the head came off. Meta holds Pyro’s head in his grasp, studying it before tossing it away.

As the Meta does so, The Pyro’s body falls and grabs his chestplate. Meta turns to leave, but is stopped by the grip of the corpse, as though grabbing the Meta’s chest was its last and most important directive. Taking a moment, Meta pries the Pyro’s dead hand from his chest, and the body falls listlessly to the ground.

Maine leaves, holding his gut as it bleeds profusely. The medical unit is not operational due to the extended use of the Temporal Distortion earlier. For a moment, Maine thought he could hear himself think again, but then the word “meta” rang through his skull and then his mind relapses…

* * *

* * *

: What the hell was that ending? They both just kept going like the Energizer Bunny!

: Yes, fittingly so too, no thanks to their thousands-can’t-keep-them-down kind of willpower. But, even though that’s the case, the outcome was to be expected. Pyro was outgunned in almost every way.

: Yes, in terms of Attack Potency and Strength, Pyro’s Small Building Level stats were nothing compared to The Meta’s City Block Level and beyond. Even Speed was a non-factor, as Meta’s Supersonic combat and reaction speed outclasses Pyro’s max at Peak Human.

: Even if Pyro gained that boost from Australium, that’s only another Small Building Level increase. Factoring in the 3x Crit modifier, that brings The Pyro’s output, high-balled, to 0.948 Tons of TNT, which is only Building Level. That’s 13.78x weaker than The Meta’s magnum alone!

: So yeah, even when we factor in Australium and Crits, it didn’t mean much in the long-run. Small modifiers rarely ever do make a large-scale difference. Even though Pyro’s taken hits from a Yeti capable of harming Saxton Hale, that Small Building Level durability isn’t enough to survive even one of Meta’s grenades.

: Even if Pyro could amp their AP by manipulating the enemy’s artillery, Meta’s shrugged off his own grenade shells before. That’s an easy durability of City Block Level or beyond.

: Not to mention that if Meta was hit by his own Brute Shot’s… Shots… Thanks to Pyro’s compression blast, he could render that tactic useless by switching to one of his secondaries like his magnum or SMGs. After all, Pyro can deflect projectiles like pipe bombs and rockets, but can’t do the same with bullets.

: While Pyro could very well hold an experience advantage, as they are a complete enigma and have no backstory, nothing can really be proven about them history-wise. To us, Pyro could be just a pyromaniac twelve year-old, an incendiary-loving ninety year-old, or anywhere between or beyond. Perhaps Pyro isn’t even human, who knows?

: And seeing as Pyro’s fighting style is spray n’ pray, it’s kind of obvious that Pyro’s whole shtick is very straightforward. Sure, there’s some degree of tactical play, but compared to a bonafide Freelancer like the former Agent Maine, Pyro’s simple hit and runs are simply outclassed.

: Seeing all of Meta’s Freelancer training, from hand-to-hand combat, to strategy and planning, and with his A.I. at his side to assist him, Meta would be unstoppable and easily takes the edge in experience and strategy.

: The Meta’s suit would be difficult for Pyro to even tarnish, let alone break the energy shields. That thing can tank grenades without breaking, and even regenerate over time. Realistically, the Pyro would need something with a yield they’re not even capable of to break the shield alone.

: And then, there are the armor enhancements. Pyro is able to counter the Active Camouflage with ease, as they regularly run counter-espionage thanks to Afterburn and the Gas Passer. But, then there’s really no counter to the Domed Energy Shield or the Temporal Distortion, the latter of which is a guarantee at killing Pyro off in the first few seconds, well if it wasn’t always used as a last resort. I mean, the Phlog’s invulnerability may be an answer to the Temporal Distortion, but it’s highly conditional and would require prior knowledge of the time slows to exploit to the fullest, making it a non-viable strat.

: And while Pyro thrives in the versatility of having all these gadgets to rely on, like flight with the Thermal Thruster, a gas cloud with the Gas Passer that explodes and ignites enemies, Flare Guns and Shotties for ranged combat, and what looks like an axe for every occasion, versatility alone is not enough to overpower The Meta.

: But those vouching for Pyro, I hear you. “What about the Dr. Grordbort set? Meta’s suit inverts powers when plasma overexerts the suit’s functions, so why didn’t the Phlog or the Manmelter do that?” Well, simple really. They aren’t plasma-based weapons.

: Yeah, they’re all based on mad “back-in-the-day” theory. You know, like doctors diagnosing you with ghosts in the blood and claiming the cure was cocaine? Yeah, that kind of thing. The Phlogistinator sends out waves that are supposed to remove “phlogistons,” something all flammable materials are composed of that, when the phlogistons leave, they leave behind a residue of ash. Or, something like that. Old science theory is weird.

: That reminds me of the crackpot theory of the Four Humors. Eugh. I swear, they are only good for talking about Shakespeare. English Majors in the crowd definitely know what I mean… I hope. Anyway, all of the weapons are from another dimension where these inane theories are true. But, ultimately, No plasma is evident in their operation.

: The Pyro has done some incredible things, but in this fight, they were simply outmatched. Crashed, burned, but not forgotten.

: The winner is: The Meta

* * *

: Woah, woah, wait a second. Did… We just make it to the first Season Finale in like, almost 7 years?

: Oh geez, when’d you get here boss? You’re like a goddamn ninja…

: Wait, what was that about this being another Season Finale? I’m pretty sure there’s only one Where Titans Clash. You feeling okay boss?

: No, no, that’s right. Yes, only WTC Kiisu… There’s nothing else…

: Yeah… His name’s L-A-S-H boss. Anyway, yeah, what’s up with these mentions of matchups we don’t even know about? You talk about these “The Heavy vs. Braum” and “Yang Xiao Long vs. Vi” and stuff like we’ve done them before.

: *Ahem* Ignore those for now. I have decided to make an executive decision Dylania, Lash.

: And that is…?

: I will be participating in the next prelude and verdict. Seeing as it’s the first time we’ve completed a 10 episode season, I want to ensure that it’s done with the utmost efficiency and perfection.

& : And this fight is…?

: Behold, the Season 1 Finale’s trailer! All I’ve said will make sense once you watch it!

& : …Who are these guys?