"Strike harder my dear ancestor!" Zion demanded with another strike, "Show me the might of the combat constructs! I beg of you!" his claws swung down at Dynamo again, stopped at the last second by his target's risen heel. The business end of his blades were centimeters away from Dynamo's eye, "Show me what the great inventors had in mind centuries ago!" pound after pound, Zion's instincts were a wild beast on the safaris. Dynamo knew the monster was far superior to him in almost every aspect, even pretending to be an insane attacker to mask the calculated blows. He couldn't dish out many swings at such close range.
He blocked again, leg contorted to the side to prevent both hands from meeting him. Rods extended from the back of Zion's forearms, "Oh can you shut up with that already?" before they could launch his other leg speared upwards. Zion's chin reared back and his arms followed with fires hitting the skies. His head twitched. Lost in thought, it was difficult to battle and think at the same time, but he was fixated on that question. Where did he hear this name? Who was Zion? Was it a being he knew? His brain ached at the questions. Clinks of his legs against this madman didn't help either, he needed to be careful. Especially since handicapped.
"Come on! This isn't like you…." Zion rejected with an ideal. Thousands of battle scenarios played through his mind at once for the best outcome. He acted in accordance and continued the onslaught with reserved energy. Pushing Dynamo back securing the starmen pod. He wasn't afraid, because Dynamo would've used hexafluoride by now if possible, "That D.D.D. system is quite unique, but you can't use it, Can you?" Zion laughed. "Or else you'll end up dead."
Though he seemed unphased by Rote's head-on attack, his insides were at a loss. Dynamo's protective galvanize burnt off immediately; his power was running low. Most of his uranium was also expended, "Come on, don't get cocky now," the rogue unit smiled in the worst of times, "We both know I've seen worse," he retreated. Zion couldn't come close, tearing through the wall before Dynamo slipped under his right arm. Eyes locked with each other. Dynamo hopped back to the manufacturing line, kicking products off for him to ride. Backed into a corner, ideas went through both minds.
Zion was a hubris machine. In one action he derided all his opponent stood for. He crouched for a leap. Two in fact, on the ground and against the wall aimed at Dynamo. A bottom-heavy bot such as himself didn't have all the air control others did, but Zion's head was as one hell of a battering ram. Dynamo dove below once his foe did as expected. Streamline design made it easy for Zion to pierce through his own wall. He whelped in pain. With his snout trapped in stone, he looked below to find both of Dynamos's legs planted in his stomach. A slash followed. One that couldn't be dodged. Dynamo's optical went mad with left eye sliced. "Someone programmed you smart."
He remained coy, splitting his legs and dragging his heel blades along Zion's torso. Friction was negligible with this much power. Oil flowed like a waterfall, but just like the previous blade to puncture their perfect body they too shattered, "I should've expected as much from a genius," Zion boasted on behalf of his opponent. He dropped his frame and fists against his opponent's face. Oil splattered both once Zion backed away, "Legbusters had the force to shatter an elephant's skull ten times over! Cracking defenses from the inside out with those trunk legs! Show me what the world feared before my birth!" he demanded.
Fingers locked with each other and rods pulling back, Zion readied another blast. Something remained ominous. Guns with the most adept of precision fell short of what the creature did. Roaring was the clutch of both rods. Fires didn't flow, yet a ray did. A red stream scorched the wall and the cover building. Zion aimed it at the swarm before any interrupted.
"You're speaking like I wasn't on the frontlines," Dynamo spat. Zion clearly wanted nobody to interrupt their date, expending what little power he held to keep others away, "They can't hear us from down here, so let me drop the formalities," his limbs whirred. Back on both feet battle called their names, "You're good I can admit that, and your programming is way more active than the other guy…" tiles cracked and oil bubbled black. "But don't forget you're just a prototype."
Two were made to be warmachines of different duties. Close combat to end a job in one fell swoop challenged the destructive power draining droid with hell in both arms. Zion brought down the light of the stars and burnt a trail behind the bouncing bastard. Against the tracks. Heels on the roof. Behind the Zenith marked martyr. Momentum carried him like the wind and Torque retained explosive power after every leap, expanding beyond mortal and metal limits. Between each leap brunt force of Dynamo's trunks battered the wolf. Heat from the ray followed after every motion, attempting to cut him off when possible. Supercomputers clashed on equal footing. One advanced by centuries and another obviously inferior showing experience of the battle.
Although Zenith pulled ahead. Abominable was the beam's mobility. Overshadowed was Dynamo directly above. The ray doubled in either palm of Zion with the wrath of heaven closing in on both sides that couldn't be cut. A finale to come. Dynamo rained down in the form of a ballista.
But the target stepped out of the way.
Sealed was the tide of battle in a single side-step. Zion ended the beam once it melted skin at a million degrees. Disorientated, Dynamo didn't spot the wolf's jaws enlacing his left arm for it was no longer connected in the next second. Blow after blow was delivered with sealed fists to the battered prey. The predator ate his fill and more, "Do you see?" Zion preached, "I am but a prototype, yet I am far superior to you-superior to the servants of heaven," his words brought more questions with another kick to Dynamo's gut. "Would my kin surpass even the lords then?"
He contemplated while gripping Legbuster by the throat. Ego ruled and a robot dragged along the floor and thrown through the production line to the inner chambers of the factory. Dynamo rolled among the piles of iron yet to have life and through multiple walls. The production line for finished products, the manufacturing line of limbs, and to the chambers where few were allowed. Finally, a wall halted the ruin brought. Dynamo's body was covered in scratches and wounds; skin torn revealing the silver underneath.
Inside the room was dark. Shattered glass skewed across the ground with a buzz in each ear. There were few things to note such as the inky black cloaking even his glow. How far was he thrown? The buzz of the swarm and barons were but a thought now, "Come now, tell me there's more to you," Zion criticized what he saw, "Don't tell me this is what I was compared to," his voice a whisper from such distance. Eons worth of knowledge rammed into his head for this very moment. Surpassing a hallmark of mechanics.
It wasn't a struggle to stand for Dynamo, though equilibrium lost with their arm torn asunder. He continued to look-continued to think. Until something pinged in the back of his mind other than the low power warning. What was the thing behind him? The object that broke his fall wasn't the wall, rather a pedestal holding a glass container. He faced the container at his feet to see something ominous. A visage of bloodlust behind the tiny tool, what appeared to be an ordinary cog attached to a component. The component was a processor or hard drive, not even a controller or module…..he didn't know. Modern mechanics had no place for a device like this…..but why did he crave it so?
He reached for it. Just as he did back then too. A flash of the past enveloped his present with voices of ghosts long gone bellowing within his brain.
"I'm begging you, brother! Stop the madness! Don't turn on that devil, the Astarama are strong enough we don't need this monster! Leave it in our imaginations! Let the Blue Eden remain as a dream and naught more!"
"I'm sorry, Emperion, but the decision is beyond me. Not even our Astarama could sway my thought now. We need this paradise"
"What is paradise if it's surrounded by blood! Turn that key and the lives of all before us falls on your hands! Father! Mother! Sons and daughters shall perish because of you!…..just stop this madness, please. What is freedom if the blood of slaves paved it?"
The blood of slaves? Why was he haunting the depths of Dynamo's mind again? The man who lived before he became 'Dynamo'. Once his attention returned the tool was already in his hands, a drive with no name backed with a sacrifice lodged in its design, "Hmm? Oh yes, that dastardly tool," Zion denoted the device within his enemy's hand, "Keep that if you may, we already broke it during reverse engineering," meters away from Dynamo stood the new-age machine. "It is dead, just like you."
His hands rose again, "Na, I don't think so," the sight behind Zion. Three Barons with their weapons at the ready, surrounded by the swarm half their height. Guns drawn with fingers on the trigger.
"That's as far as you go," Carmine eyed his thigh; already healed with the outer shell of kosmik sealed lacking a scar. "It'd be a shame if such marvel of modernity died today…"
"As the lady said, another hand on that man in front of you and you're going to the scrap pile," Baroque threatened with war hammer overhead.
Zion backed away. Low on power after a mayhem streak, he held no horse in this race, "You're acting as if I'm down for the count," he cackled, "But I still have a few tricks up my-" the smallest movement alerted the swarm to full him with lead aimed at their torso. Hardly did they have effect, but he was still pushed to his last resort. Beneath all of his thoughts were the first of many commands instilled. Survive at all cost. "Rude, but beware. Look at what I, one robot did today to your city and its men. We Zenith have far more constructs than there are pages in your history book-the one you haven't included as well."
Bright were the whites in his eyes. The whites clashed with the orange and blue of his body for it didn't belong. Foreign magic as runes carved unto his frame; older than the men of today, "Bring him down!" Carmine demanded with a spring in her step. Her spear flung and arms dove for the throat of the attacker. Too late.
"How like you to be slow...just like the elders," blinding light and a translucent image. Zion's body was no more, replaced by a fading ghost.