Over the soldiers of red and straight into the night the rogue unit dragged a new suspect. Below the night and the city's iron giants, they went to the train that circled every building. The next stop was Giganto's outer slums, Scrapyard Central. Even in a city like this, poorer districts like Scrapyard Central- S.C. for short, had higher crime rates; estimated sixty percent of Giganto crime occurring within. Rote-Gigante oversaw the area for numerous years conducting many strategies to snuff out crime and support local businesses...though results were lacklustre. With the matter left in the hands of Alexander Dyson, changes were not made for numerous years...or so the public believed.
"What are you doing!?" Lena shouted at the top of her lungs, "Where are we going-!" her body clung to the top of the train with her fingers grasping the ridges between the carts. One life-threatening event after the next, with this rogue unit at the center of both. Dynamo sat beside her with his legs swinging off the sides taking in the view without caution. The hum of the breeze matched with the clangs of his feet against the side. "Hello!?"
"Stop worrying about it!" Dynamo maximized his volume just to hear himself, "My place is not too far away, it's in the middle of S.C near the plaza!" the train parted through the business sector and all of the drunken people and robots who guided them home. The scent of booze with strong even at their altitude; the rounded train contributed to that too.
Lena calmed down. 'He's done this before….right? It should be safe?' the thought of cameras everywhere to catch this maniac brought peace of mind. Yet Dynamo continued to whistle and wave at the swarm that wasn't fast enough to keep up. In all fairness, you'd need a special engine such as the lord of oil's to even hope to outrun three hundred miles per hour on land. But even those skeletal soldiers hesitated the risks of a chase once S.C came into sight. What a foul place to willingly enter. It lacked the lively glow all other districts possessed.
Each building was on a smaller scale than Giganto, comparable to Igniain's cozy structures. Bricks and bars were the staples of every building that wasn't over two floors tall. Their roofs were galvanized steel and conjoined to each other leaving mere gaps between each building. In all directions, it was like this under the dreary covers and scent of gun powder. Other than the few sprigs of green in the forms of trees around the main fountain and vines growing from alleys, Scrapyard Central was dead. Lena could hear the gentle rushing of water from the silver fountain shaped after their god.
In the domain that grew out in a cross shape, Dynamo walked down the south-facing street. "Hey, this way!"
"Hell no, why should I follow you!?" Lena rose her voice, "Yeah you helped me and all...but a rogue one? Really?" something stole her breath. Her neuragear sent warnings. Everywhere and everything gave off a signal of death. She hesitated. Eyes were on her. Not only did she feel it, but saw them. In the corner of every window and door was someone who followed the commotion made. This place wasn't the kind of place you wanted to make a scene; they'd handle disputes with their own laws. Lena gulped where the police couldn't find her. "Alright, I'm coming."
"What? I couldn't hear ya?" she couldn't tell if Dynamo was joking or not since he danced around every cart and plant in the sidewalk; both feet stomped on the risen metal pavement. She followed the lively machine down the street as he showed off everything there was to offer. All the boarded-up locations, the mounds of graffiti on the sides of stores, the copious amounts of weapons and liquor shops that had security fit for a Dyson. And then Dynamo's home. Just the standard brick building with boarded-up windows on the two floors under a shingled roof. His door was fit for a bunker and required an optical scan. It was silver, taller than her by three feet at least and the door's thickness was comparable to Dynamo's leg.
The interior wasn't too dissimilar from Lena's own apartment. A lack of furniture accompanied by creaky floorboards. A couch sat under the boarded window with matching blue walls, parallel to a holographic screen mounted on a wall with bullet holes. A spiral staircase lead both upstairs and downstairs; with the push of a button it spun to life, "I was gonna rent a room near here to save money…." Lena admitted. Her eyes were locked on the negatives.
"Yikes," the one word that left Dynamo's lips as he sprawled off on the couch, "I thought I had it rough for being unregistered," as he laid, the wiring of his DDD system throbbed. It affixed itself properly to their slots with any minor scratch earned fading, "Oh the scrutiny for something I can't help, brings a tear to my eye," Dynamo wiped away a false tear and pointed to the upper floor. "If you need to stay over I've got a bed upstairs- don't worry about rent. I charge by the hour."
The air was still intense between the both of them. Silence weighed down on the atmosphere.
"That was a joke by the way."
"Yeah I could tell.." Lena. Of course, she was still cautious around such a dangerous being. Who would trust an unregistered unit? One with free will and the capacity to do anything no less, "Look, Legbuster or whatever you wanna pretend to be, thanks for helping me out there, but after tonight I'm going to continue on my own" she declined with a scoff. With wavering hands her plan was set, "I'll head off to the police tomorrow when everything calmed down and explain everything then we'll never have to meet again. Sound perfect?" her words were direct like each step she took upstairs; her weapon exposed. "You don't seem like a bad machine in any case."
Without a debate, Dynamo groaned before tossing himself unto his sofa with head shaking, "That's fair an all, but if you need to know the only reason I'm not registered is because of my serial digits," he admitted, "I'm almost as old as that red giant in the center of the city," he lifted his shirt to reveal the cold plate underneath that exposed his core. On the back of the plate was the serial information of his production. "The name's Dynamo Legbuster. CC0-0000 of Project Legbuster-" his words cut by laughter. Laughter from Lena who knew he was full of it. It was quick to settle once she realized the swarm could be patrolling. "Jeez. And you thought I was the rude one."
"Sorry, but come on," she wiped away a tear before returning down the stairs, "A CC0? In this age? Not to mention the prototype model?" She was quick to lurch over and read the inscriptions of his identification, "Yeah you're full of it..."
Product ID- CC0-0000
Product Code-'Prototype' Legbuster, Dynamo
Date of Manufacturing- September 5th, 1269.
Unit Standard- Ungraded
Batch ID- N/A
Condition- Operational
Role-Frontline Infantry / Infiltration
Manufacturer- **************, Doubhain
Even though the bottom of the plate was barely legible the seal of approval was visible through the scratches. Dynamo was smug when Lena tripped back from the new knowledge. The one before her wasn't lying. Not only was he far older than her entire lineage, but older than the city she stood upon; a relic out of time. She needed to catch her breath after that one, "Told ya," he sneered, "Since I only have a four-digit serial I can't input it to the registry."
"Eh even though I have CC5 integration I still need drams to stay oiled, these days I just hunt down other rogue units. Send 'em to the nearest station and have the drams rolling in by the morning," Dynamo rubbed his nose, "Then I rinse and repeat when low on funds," His gaze shifted crudely towards his guest before walking to his refrigerator in the corner. "Though seeing I had to save a certain someone instead of hauling my catch away…."
Lena winced, "Well I'm sorry that I was caught in a life-threatening situation and wanted to survive" sarcasm filled the air, "You can just catch another criminal if you want, seeing that you're one yourself and probably not allowed to own a DDD system either," she huffed with every word. A loose breath like the expression of Dynamo's face. He reached into the back of his fridge for a can of oil.
"Child...I was there in the labs when Count Myers and Ciel Destria made the DDD system…" he reminded her of his fossil-like age once more, "I was one of the test dummies in their trial and error process- emphasis on the error," with a crack of his thumb the can's contents entered his veins via the tube on his neck, "I'd think I'd have the right to own something I had a hand in developing," every word sent Lena more on the loop. She needed a moment to ingest all of the information.
"I need some air," her hand was already on the door. Before it was twisted, her neuragear pinged. A notice from the credit bureau discussing her credit score. It dropped from 680 to 678. Not a significant number, however, damaging if stacked, "Well that's just-" her gear pinged again and again, "Wait wait wait-" they didn't stop. Every second a new letter came in from the credit bureau with the score decreasing by one. Was it an error in the system? Impossible. Ping after ping, it couldn't stop. Resetting the gear did nothing. A horror show for a government that relied on credit for everything.
That last ding was the nail in the coffin, "My credit dropped...all the way to three hundred," she couldn't help the tears that formed, "My magic license was revoked….my bank is going to freeze all my accounts.." Hands on her head scratched and picked at her brain, clawing at the metal implant. It became impossible to think over the static of the television. "What the hell is going on anymore!?"
No words were said by either, only spoken by the announcer on the television.
"Investigators have pinned the location of the current suspects in the latest vandalism case within the area of Scrapyard Central with footage of the fleeing party escaping on the Digi-train. Civilians are advised to stay cautious of the two."
With horror, Lena spun around to see herself on the screen. Right beside this damned droid was all of her public information, "Police are currently advising that the suspects turn themselves in if possible, if not then use of force would become necessary."
It didn't take much thought for her next action. Lena's steps were quick. The grip around the doorknob trembled. Body heat kept the handle warm from the damp exterior. Electricity floated in the air like the whir from behind her. Dynamo's legs roared to life with orange veins ready to strike. "Don't open that door."
He lost all hospitality with a low stance and legs apart. The bladed ankle scratched the floorboards with the hiss of snakes from his chest. Lena's bow exposed itself with a bolt ready for action, "Eh? What was that again?" her tone replicated his, lifeless, "What are you going to do about it?" the handle twisted. But it wasn't her doing it. She unlocked by just by giving it a slight turn
Someone on the other end opened the door. A similar hum with the smell of heat and oil met both their noses. Dynamo wasn't staring at Lena, but what was over her shoulders. The very thing she turned to meet. A canon with red death stared back.