An explosion rocked the district the likes of which many haven't experienced. However, what caused this event on a seemingly average night? A few paces ago when the clock was younger over the edge of the red light district. An ordinary street in the dead of night paved with roads made of recycled plastic and bits of metal that housed many buildings and businesses. One of these was an unnamed warehouse. It wasn't the biggest with small width and two floors made up for with a long exterior and depths one could only imagine. Streetlights flickered on the blue stripe around the body and windowless construct with a single entrance. Manned by a few worker droids in blue uniforms that were the standard issue on first glance. But to the trained, another portrait shone.
"Hmm W.U.D.17...that's the model they're trying to impersonate," Dynamo needed mere seconds to see through the guise. Tome and Strider crouched at his sides with heads hidden. All three lurked parallel to the warehouse from the other side of the street. Above in opposing apartment blocks hidden behind giant ventilator tubes, "What's your two cents?" he asked his companions. Models that disguised themselves as others, sure the government data classified them as droids from the worker union. Key differences were scanned from the unprofessional solder, the stocky build, and the fact that the warehouse used them for security of all things.
"I don't know, what if they're just super cheap?" Tome threw out suggestions, "Like all those Igniain sweatshops?" his chin flaked off more scales. His eyes were sharp, taking notice of their environment and the swarm's schedule. It was one of the rare moments he could show his pride as a descendant of the volcano kings. Skin became scales and wings would've shredded through his vest if he didn't take it off, scales like the leaves in the forests."All of 'em break the same though."
"Can't argue with that," it was hard to hear Strider over the clicks of his preparation; the only other sound in a dead night. A sniper rifle the color of dirt longer than the average. A scope clicked into position while the owner laid back with an arm resting on the stock. Science of his home, "Gotta say, dwarves might be assholes but they make some solid tech," he spoke the truth. Veles was a weapon unmatched in stealth for its size. One click and it blended in with the environment. The barrel was also specially made to reduce sound with gaps for pressure to escape without removing force from the bullet; same for the muzzle. "Now?"
A nod. Two shots fired. Steel met the floor. Right through the forehead, into the storage, and out the motherboards for a quick death. "Doesn't matter how much armor they want to stack on, all you need is a good eye."
"Okay then, poet," Dynamo joked over roaring engines. Despite he was the robot, the dragon beside him had flames bellowing for action. The fall of two machines signified the rest of the automated workers to something; a few unlocked the entrance. Just what Dynamo wanted. He smiled with an orb in his palm. One of the toys brought by Strider, an EMP, "You know the plan. Get 'em before the swarm gets us!"
War cries hurled along with the bomb. Rubber ends bounced against the pavement and to the interior where it'd explode. A contained shockwave forced the lights to flicker. The streetlights went out but the machines stood tall. Well, stood as long as they could. Anybody could hardly stand after a dragon in human form crashed feet-first into you, turning your insides into outsides with a smile plastered across his fangs. Just with a look into the interior, he observed that the security systems were shot off. "Alright, let's show this old man how we do it."
Over a dozen other droids remained online within the warehouse as far as the eye could see. The structure was quite barebones once he stepped in, crates of all sizes and materials stacked haphazardly on top one another in wait of loading. Packed around the railing and every corner; the upstairs shared the level of disarray. Tome had eyes on the mess like the droids had eyes on him, such an unruly gaze. "Hey, old man, I think you got scammed with that EMP."
"Stop talking start kickin'!" Dynamo needed to make an entrance. Steam forced through the ceiling with his leg extended like an arrow. Bang. One of many targets wrecked without repair. Heel against a skull that plummeted to the floorboards leaving a hole in it as well as where the head once was. Directly opposite to Tome the rogue unit entered with a shared grin, "Come on, is that all you got in ya!?
Aggression met with hostility from the ones without AI ready to defend themselves. The drones twitched with faces unable to change. Their paint scratched with gears grinding in their throats. Fingers shot out plasma knives on each finger, torsos lengthened like the rest of their limbs. Spinning gears like a spine. Their faces remained unchanged, if you didn't count the gun barrel sticking out of their mouths. Defensive measures taken...overblown yes but technically the truth. Nobody could take another step before they broke into two groups; a group of machines in a ring firing in all directions and another prowling like ambush hunters. Forced to the walls neither invader backed down from the fight.
Bullets couldn't crack the scales of Tome and were far too cheap to scratch Dynamo. Plasma was a different story. Two came for both, swinging on the rails for a pincer. Swift beheading motions at the necks of both. Tome lowered his head and raised both hands. Minor burns outlined against his skin. Dead eyes cold like machines encapsulated their stare; the eyes of no remorse. His arms thrusted forward with claws breaking into their faces. Guttural bellows signaled muscles to contract with the robots' heads smashed into the floors, killed with a final squeeze. "See? How's that old-"
A bullet tactically aimed for his face. One lodged into his nostril and another in his eye, "Ah you rusting-!" he swore out the defenders of the warehouse grasping his eye. He snorted out the bullet and eyed the one who fired it in the first place. Teeth gleamed with bile dripping from the corner of his lips; the floor singed with a touch.
"Aww, someone's worked up," Dynamo found the time to joke through his escapes. Both fast-paced cutters chased his every leap. He bounced across the rails, on the walls, even along the crates leaving behind a trail of virulent gas. Dynamo kept his smile while fooling around, "Alright, that's enough," he whizzed past to the wall behind Tome with an imprint. Aim struck through with arms keeping balance. He rebounded to the ring of machines. Motion spun his body and leg directly into the face of the middle-most machine, reduced to a stepping stone for him to leap higher. A final spin pinned legs to the ceiling.
Wrist and knees angled to the ground shot a typhoon of atomic death; galvanized interiors and control with his D.D.D system were the only things keeping him from becoming the same. In any case, the altercation was brought to an end right there. There was truly no ray or bullet that could stop millions of particles surging through your every being to the command of another. Beating their internals and sensitives until they were nothing more than a husk rusting from the inside out; that would take some time in itself. "I had 'em where I wanted!"
Rage flowed through Tome. His neck stretched forward with bile spewing out. Oh if it was only bile. Fires from the pits of hell infused with the essence of puke were spat. Seconds after a reaction was formed, an explosion. Not grand, the intensity of a firecracker. A breath of fresh air brought by Tome's wings airing out the room. "Yeah yeah, but so did I. Anyways how's your eye?"
"I'm good, might need to get some scales replaced though-might check out if I new eye or not," Tome spoke nonchalantly about the limb replacement with lab-grown organs. Technology like that was known for years. Previously outlawed by the seven it began to take stride a decade ago. Many don't enter the field for the complexities instilled nor wanting to take fault when an experiment failed drastically. Morality was wrapped within the concept of an organ farm in the most literal sense of the statement.
"Well look at you, showing off that billion-dollar money," Dynamo clapped, "If you're good, we have a few minutes 'til the swarm shows up," on that que Dynamo began his hunt through the boxes for their evidence, cracking over the crates with the blade on their heel. In the first box of the first floor were packages of copper wire sealed in plastic. One box beside it held the outer shells of machines waited to be layered and soldered together. Nothing out of ordinary in the third either. "Looks like it's gonna be a long search."
Boots buckled both went to digging with what time remained. Tome explored the top, finding very few objects of note; full units broken into segments waiting to be reconstructed. It could've been a regular shipment surely, but who would ship across soldier droids? "Hmm?" Dynamo received a buzz in his ear, "Ah, we gotta hurry. Strider says the swarm's closing in," he was hesitant. The search hastened with focus diverted to the more secure loads. Crates made from metal and encased in wooden frames. No use in hiding that the location was invaded, they became more destructive. From the entire front to the back there was almost nothing. Almost.
"Up here," Tome called out with a wave. Dynamo scaled the side of the wall and followed after to the end of the warehouse. Concealed among all of the metallic crates was another. The sole difference was the darker coloration and sand-like texture to it. The box itself was longer than the rests; they found something. A shared nod. Four hands reached to it. The crate refused to budge despite the force. For seconds it continued, but the plate was stubborn. Stubborn as the hums from outside. Strider's warning came true. "Gah! Let me just."
Tome took control, standing the box up he dug his hands into either side. He flinched once his nails slid in; they'd crack under pressure too great. While fractures and tears appeared, the panel on their evidence shared wounds, "What the hell is this? Wardroids and now a kosmik crate? Who are these people!?" he gasped for air between every pull. Aid from Dynamo ended their hunt. Their final jerk snapped the panel off the hinge, sending it flying to the level below. "Well then...bingo."
It was as Alexander expected, something nefarious was afoot. The contents of the package was obviously a robot, but they never expected one such as this. It could stare Tome in the eyes with unparalleled height. A ghost in gray. The thing would strike fear if you saw it in an alley under midnight, however, their body seemed to be a mishmash of a bulky lower half and slimmer torso; a certain dynamic robot could relate. Thighs thicker than thieves that curved backward at the knees with a third segment carrying the ankles forward to line up with the thighs, far taller if they were extended. The torso and arms mimicked the thinner knees and lacked much plating. Each arm was composed of several parts fused together with bits of copper shining between like veins that stemmed from the hunched back. Even off, their wolf face could kill. "Ah….well this is something."
"Yeah...what do we do now?" Dynamo questioned, "Wait for the swarm to come in and show them this?"
"Oh no….you shouldn't do that," it spoke from nowhere. White eyes like small eggs with the veins changing to match the shade, "You do not have permission to activate me, you will serve as an example." Hot white rays were the last thing they saw. A pillar of light sprouted from the earth and cleaved the heavens in a sight that all across the country could witness.
Even the giant who sat in the center of Gigante.