Gottenfall's demilitarized zone, active every hour with security agents in and out in clockwork. Within the mild plains between Giganto, Skylandria, and Dragnov mound it had access to rail networks across the country. Outside the staircase of the iron doors was Lena. Dragged by two units arm in arm until they were at the end, lost for words after a few more outbursts. A gulp wondering if what they spoke off was true or not. Plasma cuffs released from her wrists and pocketed, not another word spoken by the police units before returning. Free to go until further investigation, a statement that provided relief and dread equally. What more could they dig up? She wasn't out just yet.
"The only reason you're not rusting away at Skylandria maximum is because the recovered droids had all there hardware destroyed before your 'self defense' claims could get checked. Another misstep and you're hitting the acid vat!" a roar sent shivers down the spines of Lena. Her body spun to the side entrance. It was him. That damned unit who always dragged her into trouble being pulled by the ear none other than Tome Dragnok, a senior agent of Gottenfall's national security. Not only a powerful man in the G.N.S. but he had time to be a foreman of a globally renowned forge; though the latter was most likely due to his lineage. Men like him had a scowl that couldn't be beaten, dragon or not, "And you," slit eyes peered through Lena's. "I'm not joking when I tell both you of, break into a heritage site like that ever again and you're heads are gone."
Just the swing of his arm was all he needed to fling Dynamo to her side- he seemed roughed up. Dynamo spat, "And you come back when there's something more concrete! Maybe shed a few pounds and you'll find a nicer guy underneath!" he shouted back at Tome who lost all interest in the pair. Without batting an eye, he returned and the doors of the demilitarized zone sealed. Dynamo dusted himself off. "Phew, that was dumb."
"Dumb!? That was terrifying!" Lena followed after Dynamo, "You almost got me sent to maximum security for fifteen years!? You almost got scrapped-" she couldn't wrap her head around everything that just occurred, "You-How did they not scrap you anyways!? Did they not run a check on your A.I.?" more and more questions proposed itself.
"Shhhhh," one spin from Dynamo and his finger was on her lip again, "Relax, I told you I know how to play this. As much as Tome wants my ass behind bars he doesn't have evidence," he laughed and lifted his finger. "See, I called it self-defense," he pointed to the outline of the scar on his back. Though it was virtually healed the mark remained. "All the other machines had their memories wrecked beyond repair, and mine's way too encrypted for them to crack. They'd rather spend a week trying to repair the old ones than a month cracking mine."
Lena trailed behind with mouth agape. Almost nothing he said made any sense….or maybe it did? "I'm starting to see why you guys need so many cops…" little by little faith dwindled in the city. Her heart still pounded, but now wasn't the time to address the events. Everything from almost dying to meeting an ancient beast. The average person would be out cold already.
There wasn't much to talk about with silence from the shock. The pair looked like an ordinary duo making their way out of the demilitarized zone without being gunned down. To the railway station for the midnight run of trains for people who worked after hours. It ran through Giganto and in less than half an hour the next stop was the closest station to Giganto's middle-class residency. Leaves rustled and crackled under hooves. Windows whistled a warning of a storm. Before the silent Lena was her humble apartment once more, all the while Dynamo rambled about his tales. "So basically after they came for you, I used myself as a shield, and then the giant snake came in."
The snap of his fingers caught Lena off guard, "Oh yeah one more thing about Scuta," Dynamo whispered with fingers drawing Lena closer. "Don't talk about him, if word gets out that he's down there poachers are gonna have a field day."
"Huh? Oh yeah that thing," Lena recalled, "I wasn't gonna talk about it anyways. Do I look like an idiot who posts everything about myself online?" her quiz was met with a dull look while both scaled the stairway to her apartment. "Honestly dude, every time you drag me out things escalate by a hundred percent."
Through her wallet, Lena procured her card key. One in particular caught Dynamo's eye; the one with the winged serpent wrapped within a staff. The Gottenfall Credit Union card; an all-in-one credit card meant to replace physical currency. However, even a millennium later and the medium of solid coin is still handy for the day to day. "Can I see this for a sec?"
He held no hesitation in snatching up the card while Lena unlocked the door, "So do you want me to put an arrow in your head before the PD catches you again?" a warmth pressed against the left of Dynamo's skull. Her arm bent back with a bolt birthed between her fingers.
"What? No, I was just giving you what's yours," In Dynamo's other hand was a similar black card with its chip meet the end of Lena's. He typed in his pin number and awaited she did the same for the transfer of drams. "I can't not pay my hire."
"Oh-" it completely slipped her min. With a command, her neuragear sent the signal and allowed the transfer. Seconds after the notification of eighteen hundred drams entering her account, "That's…." she teared up. A sniffle with relief releasing her cry. "You don't know how much that means to me….thank you."
"Umm…" Dynamo backed away from the scene, "I just paid you for what I hired you for. Nothing more, nothing less," he reinstated with avid motions from growing fluster, "Well there is some more as a sorry for almost getting you locked up…." for a machine it was rare for one's words to stammer. Food, bills for power and water, rent. All things he's forgotten about in the past few years reignited in one moment. "Sorry I should-"
"For the love of Rote, shut up already!" a neighboring window opened and the head of Strider poked out with his cap dangling. Narrow eyes stabbed through the noisy party with the fury of death, "Unlike you two, some people have a job," he huffed with the anger of an old man even though he wasn't even thirty.
"Sorry about that," Dynamo laughed it off, "Thanks for the reminder, I have some work to finish later too," he scratched the back of his head with a hushed tone. He stepped back before anyone got louder. Things were awkward as is, he gulped at the thought. How much power money held was astonishing. "Anyways, both of you guys have my number so I'll catch ya later!"
Dynamo had a knack for exiting commotions he started. In seconds after his wave, he found himself at the base of the stairs. Strider sighed, "That guy's something else," he scorned, "And you," attention turned to the one wiping away tears and composing herself. Though it was hard, that smile painted a different scene. "Wanna come in and get some coffee? And tell me what the hell happened after you left my place?"
"Uhh...not really," she was sheepish. "But I wouldn't mind stopping in for a bit, I guess."
And just like that, the strange duo parted once more. One walked for the comfort of a friend and the other waltzed in the barren streets once more. Everything was cold at this time of year, as opposed to blistering days. Dynamo couldn't feel either. So tantalized he was in the moment. His mind throbbed when he looked at his own fingers and realized what they were; what his entire body was. Even if he didn't feel it, for a brief instance his chest thumped. Days went on like leaves stripped from their trees, "God...how many years has it been?" it's been eons since he felt like this. "How many years have I been trapped?"
Arms with fingers laced rested behind his head with eyes facing the sky with no stars. Industrialization and light killed what natural beauty remained. Replaced with mechanized paranoia. Rote's angels perched on every roof with a finger on the trigger. Hell, even more of his agents acted as civilians, on top of the already hefty PD. The most secure city was nothing more than a modern prison being beefed up by the day, "Rote, you old iron lug…" just saying his name hurt. Dynamo flinched with gritted teeth and a hand on his head, "….hope you know what you're doing."
Another sigh and a warning appeared in Dynamo's peripheral. Low power. Didn't matter much since he was headed home, but his guard needed to remain up. On speed dial was a certain number in case of anything. Yes, even within this monarchy where the Dysons' eyes touched each end of the very nation, one still needed caution. Someone who experienced the same as Dynamo would be just as depressed, "All the years I worked...and for this, funny," his sorrow was quick to transform once he crossed the boundary.
After the bridge separating districts was S.C. and his hobble. Sorrow became anger upon the main street; seeing the figures walk on the same street as him made his oil boil. Neither side was too happy to say the least. S.C.'s main street was never known for being active at this time of night, something was strange. With a deep breath, Dynamo strutted through the crowds. His eyes with open as they went out of their way to bump into him brutishly. Smiles each time they stuck out their legs and he almost tripped. Their whispers muted, but not enough to be missed by a supercomputer.
Dyson scum. Mercenary trash. Alexander's Keeper. Names thrown at the unit who did what he needed to for survival's sake. His survival meant their trouble, "Oops, looks like we gotta run before the Dysons blow up the block!" one joked, "Oh no, looks like I'm next on the pet's hit list," they pestered. "Man, if I drop this emp the robots gonna be in some big trouble."
"Aha, the Dyson dog is-"
"Who said dogs could speak, bitch," Dynamo cut off from adding his own humor to the situation. He saw the embedding of an emp press against his head for a brief instance. He couldn't make a scene. Lay low, grit his teeth, and bear the stress. Day by day that moment came closer, but for now, his blade remained sheathed with every step through that city. Eventually, he returned to that shed he loathed with all his heart; new dents on his doors. The very moment he went within a rock banged against the boarded windows. When he breathed out that gas escaped with.
"Becoming harder to handle this place…" the edges of his fingers tapped the back of his head with a clank. What stayed on his mind was a dead man. Before he entered his basement there was a step at the door. The rustling of paper, "Come on, can't a guy get any rest around-" he shuffled back to the door and opened it. Immediately he was met by a paper bag full of scrap iron and no sight of the deliverer. He didn't react further than shutting the door. To the destination he craved for, that basement. A slob's den of spare parts, tools, circuits and oil sprawled over the floors and countertops. At the very end of the chamber was a charging pod. An all silver device with glass highlights revealing the inner-working generators that powered the giant rubber tube that escaped the top. Dynamo found himself sitting within, the charger's needle in his neck. Initial shock tantalized his sensors. For an instance he felt warmth throughout his frame; the warmth of a body. "Ah...gotta love that."
With a smile, he cursed out the feeling. Eyes on the magnetic gun with recent calibrations resting on the counter beside him; it wasn't damaged. Magnetic rifles rarely misfired, mostly due to the years of work that goes into studying and creating one. Although he was quite active glaring at the piece of Destria genius, his system had something else in store. "Charging undergoing, deactivating for faster charging times."
Senses numbed and vision dulled. Hearing hummed and scent was no more, already trapped in a body that couldn't feel the strain his other senses were stolen. Nothingness sat all around him. Something that couldn't be described as black. Of course this sensation was unique to just Dynamo; no other man nor machine could ever feel such numbed sensations. Well...maybe one other person, but he was far removed from what he once was. What they once were. "Hmm….maybe I'll read the news later and see what you've been up to…"
Lacking any other within the walls of an empty mind that individual became his soul focus. Drifting off to the land of 'digital dreams' where his memories replayed in avid detail. That man became the focus. Their last interaction. When snow fell in Gottenfall upon the twilight on the Dyson family manor within the innermost walls of Giganto. Thunder howled like a dragon's call and winter's veil like a blue devil's arms. He was surrounded on all ends. Right, left, from above and even below. They wore the faces of angels with the power of plasma beneath their masks. There god hovered with feathers of white and a body of ivory laced in laurels and chains to the plasma blade nestled within his bosom. "You remained missing until the turn of the millennium, now I find you in a foreign land parading as a servant? How you've fallen."
The god's omnipotence commanded his head and rattled within his being in a feeling of control only god could emit. "The era of Destria is over. The age of Dyson takes its last breath. Now, the blood of the great inventors is no longer paramount, they will fade. You've brought this on yourself, Dynamo."