SPIRAL

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Simon Dominguez, Callsign: SPIRAL is the leader of the planet Puriq, Captain of the SILVER LINING, and former revolutionary. He's both heavily admired and immensely feared throughout the stars, largely because of his history as the pilot of Free Me From Hell, a SCRAPPER Midnight with an IPS-N Combat Drill (nicknamed Hell Piercer) mounted that could level cities, create massive craters, and destroy small moons.

A man as important as father shouldn't have his information so public, brother. It's a hazard. 
- Sonata

Oh, please! Relax, sister! What are they gonna do, fight him? Let's tell a fun story! - Symphony

Personal History

There are a lot of tales of how SPIRAL came to be. Some say he was a man of no renown prior to Free Me From Hell, while others say he was a well-respected pilot who became unstoppable. Some liken him to RA in the sense that he just appeared one day, and others say he had always been. All of these tales are both true and false.

Simon Dominguez began his life as a slave underneath Apex Renegades Co. after being sold to them by his parents and being groomed into a perfect pilot. His first mech was intended to be a standard GMS Everest with a special emphasis on Artillery. However, something went poorly during its printing and it ended up becoming a HORUS Pegasus by the name of Requiem æternam. He was incredibly effective with this mech, though after coming into contact with a SISYPHUS-Class NHP that simply called itself Sisyphus at age 15, he decided to try something different. He worked under ARC until he was 35, then decided he would make a grand stand to free himself from ARC's jurisdiction on the planet they had resided on. His total amount of confirmed kills until this point was 1,052. Due to his effectiveness in the field, he was given many licenses from other manufacturers, such as Harrison Armories, SCRAPPER, and IPS-Northstar. After gaining enough licenses to create his ideal mech, Free Me From Hell, he went on a rampage that made life on his home planet completely uninhabitable, in an event called The Burning Signal. Immediately following this, ARC released him from contract and hasn't known what to do about him since. This singular event rose his amount of confirmed kills to 250,846. It now sits at 516,086 due to other various acts of revolution, the cause he dedicated his life to after escaping ARC's clutches.

Sooooooo? What'd you thiiiiiiiiiiink? It's just like we said! All true, all false. Whether you believe it or not is up to you! - Symphony

He's an impressive man. One that shouldn't be trifled with under any circumstances. Unless, of course, you wish to become a statistic.
- Sonata

Appearance and Demeanor

Simon Dominguez is a leader to end all leaders. If not for his station as the (heavily admired) ruler of Puriq, there's a possibility he may be at the head of UNION simply due to his straight-arrow, never-give-up attitude (if he hadn't killed as many people as he did). He has black hair and has one green eye, though he used to have a glass right eye housing his SISYPHUS-Class NHP. He's usually seen in his captain's uniform.

I fail to see the importance of mentioning his appearance, brother. Especially since there's a photo of him.
- Sonata

Don't overthink it, dear sister. Sometimes humans fail to understand even the simplest of implications. - Symphony

Mech Hangar

SPIRAL pilots Free Me From Hell, a SCRAPPER Midnight known for its high damage capabilities and massive destructive properties. It looks fairly stock, save for some graffiti on the ZF3 SOLIDCORE integrated weapon that simply reads "FIGHT THE POWER!"

Why does it say that again, sister? - Symphony

A child sprayed it onto the gun after he killed an emperor. He liked it.
- Sonata

Afterword

Here's a recording that only I have! Yes, I was here for this. What an honor! What a day! Take a listen!

"Hear me and hear me well. My name is Simon Dominguez, Callsign: SPIRAL. Today is the day I change everything or die trying. I'm sick of a life where I choose nothing. Where I wander as a dog on a leash to my master. So I'm stopping it. If I die today, this message is for nothing. I'm free, and that's that. If I survive, then let this be a declaration of war. To any organization, government, planet that seeks to oppress its people to serve its own means, I will come for you. I will fight for the people you refuse to acknowledge, and under that combined force, WE. WILL. BREAK. YOU. Let today be the first testament of my ability, so you can't choose to ignore it." - Simon Dominguez, Callsign: SPIRAL, moments before the Burning Signal.

I hope if there's anything you learned today, it's not to ignore the power of the people. SPIRAL is that power, personified.

- Symphony

My father is a man of will. He bears the weight of the world on his back, because he is the only one fit to carry it. Know this, and you know all there is to know about him.
- Sonata

IGNITE

And now, a bit of showing off! - Symphony

IGNITE

TW: Mentions of Slavery, Immense Violence

Smoke. Gunfire. The sweet smell of rotten flesh. These simple facts of our environment. A domain where we all thrive.

The battlefield. Mechs are being destroyed left and right, as Spiral rips and tears through enemy forces like a hot knife through butter. “Remember, father. Ignition at maximum output is strictly forbidden by Union.” Sonata states this while Spiral instinctively holds his hand over the arming switch.

“Simon! Look at the world you’re making in front of you! As much fun as it is to use, we don’t NEED the thing. Then again, if we’re forced…” Sisyphus is a man ruled by fate, and therefore loves nothing more than to tempt it. Like a siren song, he arms the switch on his own, almost begging Spiral to just press the button.

He’s better than that now, though. Even the combatants he’s facing aren’t dead, just rendered useless. Mechs destroyed. Only one person will die today. “We don’t need the drill. Not for combat, anyway. Gotta make a bit of an entrance for our tyrant, right?” Spiral flicks the switch back in the off position, much to Sisyphus’s audible dismay. The goal is simple: Tear through enemies without sustaining significant damage, get to the current leader of this planet, get out. Unfortunately, even without using the drill, Free Me From Hell still loves nothing more than to build up heat. After all, no sense in a Spiral mission without the iconic Burning Signal. The mech’s internal temperature is currently 70 degrees. Celsius. And Spiral, stupidly, is in a full coat. A few more combatants fall to the glorious mechanized firearms of the Midnight, and Spiral pipes up in a voice that’s begging to not die of heatstroke. “You know, on second thought… I’ve got a better idea.”

He doesn’t waste a second, grabbing his crystal axe and laser rifle before ejecting himself from the mech and ripping his coat off. He takes his flask of cold water and pours it on himself, just to cool down. Then, the fun begins. “14 combatants approaching, father.”

Spiral doesn’t respond. Or, rather, he responds with his actions. A storm of steel, lead and nickel fly towards Simon and puncture several holes in his body. He ignores this, holds up his left hand, and begins drilling with his finger. The bullet wounds vanish almost instantly, as if they were never there. He swings his axe, which now has a drill on its head, and the bullets reappear in the barrels of the very guns they were fired from. “All weapons destroyed. Well done, father.”

“Thank you, Sonata. I’ll be back in a moment. Hold down the fort till I’m back. I won’t be long.” Spiral, both shirtless and mechless, runs through an active warzone while destroying every weapon that fires at him effortlessly. The Burning Signal shoots into the sky not far behind, as if to declare the battle has already been won. This isn’t quite enough theatrics for Spiral, much to the dismay of a poor pilot who was just doing his job. Spiral leaps onto his mech, cuts open the front with his axe, and grabs the pilot in the cockpit. “Sorry about this.” Spiral tosses the pilot out of his mech, hops in, drives to the entrance of the palace he was heading towards, and initiates the self-destruct sequence.

The wall explodes, and emerging from the smoke with an axe proudly in hand stands Simon Dominguez, staring down his target. “W-what? But the drill, it neve-”

“Who told you I needed the drill?” He steps down, approaching the throne with a warrior’s intent. 3 more bullets land in his shoulder, stomach and leg. He doesn’t displace them. He ignores them, like they aren’t there in the first place. “The drill is good for planet busting. Mass murder jobs. I’m only here for you.” He walks up the steps and lines up his axe with the baron’s neck. “Any parting words?”

“You… you’ll pay for this!”

“No, I won’t.” The axe glides through his neck, and Simon grabs his head like a trophy. He realizes that it’s a bit gross to hold onto a severed head, and quickly tosses it away like someone else’s used napkin. “Ugh.” He turns to the witchwolf slaves before him, all cowering in fear and chained up. He gives them a soft smile, and cuts through the chains. “It’s okay. You’re safe now. He can’t hurt you anymore.”