Hoplite continued to bump his chin in vain in an attempt to release the lock on his armor, but it was completely useless. It had been nearly a day since he was paralyzed and dragged into this dwarven workshop, and the squat creatures hadn't ceased once studying the Phalanx suit. Constantly they prodded at it, changing shifts and tools periodically, testing the armor's durability as well as how to disassemble it… it was unlikely they'd find the button to do that, but unfortunately the same could not be said of his weaponry. Each of his guns lay dismantled on the dozens of workbenches lining the walls, the dwarves studying them with rapturous enthusiasm.
Hoplite needed to escape this paralysis as soon as possible. The thought of his equipment being tampered with this way made his blood nearly boil. After that, he would need to plan out how to free the others… or at least Lance, Michael and Cat. Knowing that the others were Godlings made him hesitate to free them. They may not have been as outwardly aggressive as Tuji, but they were ticking time bombs nonetheless. They would become hostile eventually, if the intel he gathered on Godlings were to be believed. However, while he had no desire to continue traveling with them due to the eventual danger they posed, he found himself unwilling to leave them in the hands of these vampires.
Who knew just what these Romai had planned for them? It might be even worse if Hoplite left them here, rather than let them go free. These elder vampires may be able to grow stronger by drinking their blood, among other things, and based on what Hoplite had experienced, they were already powerful enough. As the dwarves continued to batter away at the Phalanx suit, he began formulating a plan. Releasing everyone at once would not be likely to work out, their cells might be far apart from one another…
If that were the case, then he would only be able to surprise the Romai once, after that they would likely reinforce security at the other cells from then on. Of course, this was assuming that their cells were all far removed from one another. If they were close, he just might be able to release everyone at once. The best-case scenario would be that he'd get to retain his armor, and that the prisoners were close together.
With how things were going now, taking the Phalanx with him was looking more and more unlikely. Assuming he was freed by these dwarves, the armor would take hours to put back on, and there were cameras in the corners of this workshop; he wouldn't have the time to re-equip it before hostiles arrived to apprehend him. As soon as he was free, while he regretted it, he would need to strike out fast and flee this place quickly… leaving the Phalanx suit behind.
Every instinct in him screamed that this wasn't an option, that doing so would be a criminal offense, but what choice did he have? If the armor was unlocked from the outside, the pieces would all fall away. It was different from when it was disassembled from within, the pieces simply became loose and removable then, but if the trigger was activated from outside, they would fall right off. The activation for it was in a difficult to reach spot beneath the groove of his left shoulder pad, but it was hard even for discerning eyes to find. Not only that, pressing it required an ultra thin spike, it wasn't something one could simply press with their finger, it was impossible to trigger it by accident.
There was no guarantee that the armor would even come off if this button were activated, after all he couldn't release the Phalanx from within, why would the exterior release button work? Frustrated, he continued to stand in silence as the dwarves hammered away at him in vain, attempting to pry him apart.
There was one thing he hadn't tried yet however, an option that he only now considered. Perhaps if he… what was the word… Pretended to be this automaton they believed he was, then maybe he could manipulate them into freeing him. How should he go about this though? First he should test if they could even hear him from out there.
"Kshhhhhhh." Hoplite hissed, attempting to sound like a radio.
"By the Long Lords!" The dwarf on the ladder screamed, losing his balance before falling backward.
While the ladder was caught by a stout dwarf, the one atop the ladder still lost his grip and landed hard on the concrete with a scream of agony. The rest of the workshop fell still, all eyes locking on Hoplite.
"What did you do to trigger that!?" Ketbram, the apparent supervisor of this workshop, asked quickly.
The dwarf on the ground groaned, "I just hit it on the head, I hit that spot earlier though… not sure what triggered the damn thing."
Ketbram clapped his hands together, "At least now we're making progress!" He said joyfully, "Alright, you still good to work, boy?"
"Just need ale and I'll be fine." The dwarf replied
"Head over to the barrels then, draw yerself a mug." Ketbram urged the younger dwarf, who complied with gusto, his apparent injury not seeming to affect his stride to the beer barrels. "Alright, let's hit it on the head again, get a rubber mallet and-"
"This unit cannot be disassembled." Hoplite said in his best impression of a robotic voice.
This was ridiculous, there was no way that this impression would convince-
"Yes!" Ketbram shouted, "We can communicate with it now! Tell me machine, is there a button we can use to dislodge your parts?"
"Affirmative." Hoplite replied, "However, the constraints put on this unit by your masters make disassembly impossible."
Ketbram then put a palm to his face, "Of course! The Long Lord's magic is far too powerful for mere tools to work through! You there, send word to the Long Lord's, request that this magic be dispelled-"
"Sir, what if the automaton becomes aggressive?" Another wielding a saw asked, "There's no guarantee that it'll listen to us."
"And also request the presence of a Fanged Guard, no automaton can stand up to the might of a vampire." Ketbram grinned, flashing a thumbs up, "Now get going, now!"
After this, another hour passed, this time the incessant hammering at the Phalanx suit had stopped, instead being replaced by a rigorous interrogation. Hoplite gave false answers to his function and lied about his make and model… frankly it wasn't nearly as hard as he thought it would be; pretending to be a robot that is. The Soldier found this demeaning, unprofessional… but The Child oddly reveled in it, while Hoplite himself felt mildly embarrassed.
However, the time came when finally, the Fanged Guard arrived. The vampire, like the other dwarves, was stout, with a long beard that just barely brushed the floor beneath it. Its red eyes were bright, even in this well lit chamber, and its deeply wrinkled face contrasted with the other dwarves around it. Ketbram, as well as the others, all deeply bowed to the vampire. It adjusted the crimson cape draped around its shoulders, the thick umber colored plate-mail it wore engraved with dozens of images depicting great victories against twisted beasts, much like the walls of this workshop.
"I am Nujet Baragal, fourth-born of Long-Lord Lagoma." Nujet declared, "I have been given permission to undo the magic binding this machine. Automaton, will you comply with my orders?"
"Affirmative." Hoplite lied.
"Excellent. Now, just in case, the rest of you… vacate this chamber and lock the doors behind you. Should it become violent, I will subdue the thing, if it tries to run, it will be locked in here, after which I will disassemble it myself, there's no need to risk your young lives."
"Are you certain, great one?" Ketbram asked, "It seems docile, surely it won't try to stand up to your greatness."
"Docility from an automaton is not the same as from a beast of burden, it will follow its programming, intimidation is not a factor." Nujet said, clasping his broad hands behind his back, "It may have confirmed that it would listen to my words, but there is still a possibility that it will act aggressively once it is free. Now please, begone and let me do my work."
"Very well, my lord. Boys," Ketbram shouted, "You heard the lord vampire, let's get going. He'll be done with this hunk of metal in no time."
With that, every dwarf in the workshop shuffled out, the heavy metal doors shutting behind them. Could they lock from the outside? Perhaps, but that wouldn't matter. Nujet, upon hearing the door shut, raised his hand toward Hoplite, the tips of his fingers enveloped in Golden Flame.
"Release," he uttered, red eyes glaring.
Then, just like that, Hoplite could move again… yet, he did not immediately go on the offensive. Nujet seemed puzzled by this, approaching Hoplite cautiously, stopping just out of arm's reach.
"I see that your programming is fluid enough that you can recognize new masters? That is good news indeed, now, remove your legs and one of your arms, I will do the rest."
Hoplite lashed out with a fist, darting forward so fast that his form became little more than a blur. Time slowed for Hoplite… and he saw Nujet's eyes widen before his head darted off to the left, completely avoiding Hoplite's fist. Nujet then patted Hoplite on the torso, and he felt his feet leave the ground. Concrete shattered as Hoplite's body collided with the ceiling, but just as fast as he'd been hit upward, he fell down.
Nujet pointed a single finger at Hoplite, snarling as a purple ball of light formed before the digit. A beam shot out, wrapping around Hoplite's torso like a glowing rope before closing around him, pinning his arms to his torso right as he hit the ground. Nujet opened his mouth to speak, but Hoplite didn't wait to listen. Quickly he got his legs under him, and shot forward like a torpedo, his helmet colliding with the vampire's torso and knocking the creature backward.
Nujet's armor crumpled beneath the force of the blow, black fluid exploding from his mouth and nose as he was hurtled backward, the magic rope dissolving. Hoplite rushed after the still-flying vampire, closing the distance and grabbing Nujet by the foot. He grit his teeth, crushing the limb in his hand before slamming the vampire face first into the concrete. Black blood spattered across the ground where Nujet's head impacted the floor, shards of bone and bits of dark brain-matter flying everywhere. The body twitched, and Hoplite brought his boot down upon the limbs, the torso, everywhere he could in a brutal flurry, flattening the entire frame of Nujet until his armor resembled sheet metal, gallons of black blood and gore squelching free between the flattened armor plates.
Hoplite then rushed to the various tables lining the walls of the shop, swiping up and reassembling his confiscated weapons in an instant before magnetizing them to his body. He also collected Michael and Cat's munitions as well, not wanting to leave them in enemy hands. There were other guns here as well, not of Ternan make, but rather that of these Romai. Spotting the empty duffel bag he'd used to store most of the weapons he'd brought for the trip.
Quickly he swiped it up, stealing dozens of munitions alongside reclaiming what had been confiscated from him, at least, as much as the bag could hold. All this took place within a window of fifteen seconds, enough time for the dwarves on the cameras to alert their superiors to what had happened within the workshop. Hoplite, eyeing the door, sped toward it, ramming his shoulder hard into the obstacle.
It bent inward like paper despite its thickness, flying off the hinges before slamming into the wall of the hallway, red blood oozing from where it impacted the wall. It seemed that someone had been waiting on the other side, but Hoplite felt no remorse for this. These were his enemies, after all. The wide concrete hall was lit by fluorescent bulbs set into the short ceiling. Indeed Hoplite had to hunch slightly, otherwise his helmet would scrape against it. He drew the Fortis, spying a dozen armored dwarves to his left, all raising their own rifles as they stared at Hoplite with sheer terror. There were at least twenty hostiles, ten kneeling in front while the other ten stood behind, aiming directly at him. The hall ended to his right, with rough rock replacing the concrete.
"Open fire!" The lead dwarf shouted, a klaxon beginning to blare as red lights began to flash through the hall.
Hoplite immediately charged, not bothering to return fire. The bullets were easily reflected by his shield, ricocheting off the walls as he closed the distance- he did not fire his gun, he did not lash out with a fist, no- He ran straight through them like a runaway train, trampling the dwarves beneath his feet and leaving nothing but screams of agony, crumpled armor, and shattered bones behind. Once he reached the end of the hall, it curved to the left, a single camera above following his movements.
He reached up and crushed it in a single hand as he ran, turning a corner to see a dozen more dwarves, all emerging from a few open doorways, also armed. WIth great ease he barreled through the hostels, running rampant through the facility as he memorized every chamber, and every hallway that he came across. He'd need to remember this later once he returned… but there was another issue he had to deal with first.
He had no idea where he was going. He remembered the path back to the Gear Door, but he'd only be able to find that path if he found one of the area's that he'd passed through before. This complex, wherever it was, is new to him, he would need to find where it connected first… but then what? If he pounded through the Gear Door, he'd be right back in that other vampire's coffin.
There had to be somewhere in this facility he could hide, somewhere secluded he could set up as a temporary base of operations. At the minimum, he couldn't leave until at least Lance, Michael and Cat were safe. Saving the others was optional now, due to their Pillar-Born status. Yet, something about that acknowledgment troubled him deeply. There'd be time to ponder it later.
He crushed every camera he could along the way, spying a single, unarmed dwarf staring at him in horror from an open chamber. Bits of bone and splatters of blood covered Hoplite's lower body, the remains of his previous victims. It was then that Hoplite spotted the badge adorning the dwarf's gray coat.
It read 'communications'. He didn't hesitate, darting forward and grabbing the dwarf by the throat, lifting him up and pulling him into the hallway, "What is my location!?" Hoplite screamed over the blaring klaxon, "Tell me now!"
"I-It's the barracks!" He croaked, "Release me!"
"Where is the camera room?" Hoplite pressed, applying slightly more pressure to his throat.
The dwarf's broad hands squeezed his gauntlet, "Down the hall at the crossroad, take a right, three doors down!" He screamed.
"Show me the way." Hoplite growled, maintaining his grip and sprinting down the hall with dwarf in hand.
As it turned out, bringing him had been unnecessary, once he reached the intersection, there was a sign etched into the concrete of the floor, arrows pointing to each hall with names beneath each, revealing what lay down each path. There had been scarcely any of these for some odd reason- what if the staff forgot the layout of the facility? He memorized this, seeing that the 'monitor room' was indeed down the hall leading to the right. Hoplite cracked the dwarf's neck and left him twitching at the intersection, rushing down the hall right as another squad of armed dwarves emerged from the left, charging after him.
Hoplite lost sight of them as he barged into the monitor room, seeing a dozen thick screens on a far wall. A few dwarves turned to look at him, shocked. Hoplite quickly scanned each screen, seeing the layout of every room, every hall, until finally… he spotted something different. There was a camera that was observing what appeared to be an empty cavern. It stretched on into further darkness, perhaps he could escape and set up somewhere in there.
He scanned more cameras, eventually spotting a screen that depicted a dilapidated hallway, with fungus actively growing on the walls, moisture dripping onto a cracked concrete floor. Heavy metal doors lined this hall, and Hoplite felt certain that was where the squad was being held captive. Sadly, none of these monitors displayed what was in these chambers, maybe because there was another monitoring room elsewhere that covered other portions of this complex.
In those few seconds, he gathered all the data that he'd need… he then lashed out wildly at the different consoles and screens, sending shattered electronics and glass flying. The unarmed dwarves quickly filed out during Hoplite's rampage, and he only stopped once everything within was busted. It was then that the squad finally reached him, rushing in and opening fire, again their inferior ballistics were reflected by his shield. Hoplite trampled over these as well, crushing through them all before darting down the hall toward one of the fleeing dwarves that had been in the monitor room.
Hoplite swiped the slowest one in a single hand, bringing him up to his helmet before hissing, "Where are the prisoners!?" Hoplite hissed. "How do I get to them from here!?"
"I won't tell you-" The dwarf started.
Hoplite snapped his neck and dropped him like a sack of rocks, running straight for the next monitor dwarf. With ease he swiped this one up, repeating the same question and receiving a better answer.
"It's down there!" The dwarf screamed, pointing down another hallway, "Just run straight ahead and you'll get there in no time!"
He peered down the long hall, indeed he also saw a sign that said 'containment' Hoplite wasted no more words, sprinting down the hall with the dwarf in hand. It didn't take long before he reached the end of the hall, spying a set of stone doors, like everything else it was engraved with a dozen images.
The dwarf wheezed, pointing to the doors, "That's it-" He inhaled, "Right through there."
Hoplite kicked the stone doors open with ease… but what lay before him was not what the dwarf had claimed. At least, it wasn't what he was looking for. It was indeed a jail, but the heavy steel doors he had expected were instead, bars, with other haggard looking dwarves sitting behind them, looking shocked to see Hoplite. A balcony above, near to the ceiling, held a pair of blue coated dwarves, looking just as surprised. They both wielded rifles, taking aim before shouting orders for Hoplite to put down his captive. He disposed of these two with the Fortis, painting the engraved concrete behind them crimson before he grit his teeth.
"The prisoners that I came here with!" Hoplite corrected, raising the monitor dwarf once again.
He spat in response, "Rot in hell, automaton."
Frustrated, Hoplite slammed the dwarf against the wall, hearing a loud crunch before he allowed the body to slide to the ground. He didn't have much more time to waste, if the Long Lords found out he'd been freed, they may come themselves to apprehend him. As much as he hated to do this, he'd need to leave his squad for now…There had to be some way to get to that cave system-
"You there, machine!" A skinny prisoner with a notable absence of a beard yelled, "I know where it is, yah, can tell ya where it is, but first I need a favor!"
Hoplite regarded the man- no, it was a dwarf, despite the emaciation and lack of a beard, his squat form still gave it away. He immediately approached the cell, ripping the door from its hinges, "Now." He ordered, the prisoner taking a step back out of fear.
"We c-can't escape through New Romai, we gotta get to the cavern see, they won't follow us there-"
"Where are the prisoners!?" Hoplite shouted.
"Opposite end of the city, you won't reach it before the Fanged Guard gets ya." The prisoner told him quickly, "We gotta get to the cavern first, if you can find a pickaxe, then all you'd have to do is dig through this here wall in my cell." He finished, indicating the wall between a bucket and a steel bedframe. "I know that it's on the other side, but it'll take some work, you must hurry!"
If the prison holding his comrades really was on the opposite end of the city, then this dwarf was right. More of the Fanged Guard would soon arrive to apprehend him, and in greater numbers, Hoplite doubted he'd emerge the victor. The caves were his only option at present, and he even confirmed that they wouldn't try to pursue him if he went there… but that left the very important question of 'why'?
What was in the caves that would cause vampires to hesitate?
"Did you hear me!?" The prisoner shouted, "We gotta get through that wall you bucket of bolts, find a pick!"
"A pick is not needed." Hoplite said simply before approaching the wall, fists raised.
It was time to make his own exit.