He glanced toward the prison, a cold smile forming on his lips. In the center of Sing Sing Prison, a group of hardened men with cruel faces gathered in the open yard, laughing loudly as they passed around bottles. Over a makeshift barbecue, chunks of unknown meat sizzled on the flames, filling the air with a greasy, smoky smell. Nearby, several women, their clothes torn and exposing their private parts, were pushed around by the men, their hollow eyes full of fear. A few vehicles were parked nearby, loaded with firearms and ammunition taken from the prison's armory. Among the weapons were heavy arms—machine guns, rocket launchers, and even a large Gatling gun, still partially covered.
Inside one of the prison cells, where inmates had once been kept, a group of survivors—men and children with pale faces and thin bodies—sat huddled together. They nervously shifted their gazes, avoiding the sight of the women who had been dragged out to be violated. They knew what was happening was wrong, but there was nothing they could do.
"Boss, with this stash of weapons, we'll control all of NYC!" shouted a man with burn scars on his face, speaking to the gang leader beside him. This man, known as Scorpion, was one of Arthur's most loyal thugs.
Arthur leaned back in his chair, one arm possessively draped around a young female student, his fingers digging into her chest so hard she winced. She bit her lip, knowing better than to cry out—she had seen what happened to those who resisted: burned or beaten to death, then thrown onto the grill like cattle.
"Control NYC?" Arthur chuckled coldly, narrowing his eyes as he looked at Scorpion. "Did you forget how you got those scars?"
Scorpion's face darkened at the mention of his burns. The scars were a reminder of a failed raid against another survivor group in the city, led by a fierce red-haired woman named Erza. Despite their numbers, her group had humiliated them and forced them to retreat.
"Boss, we're different now," insisted another man, stepping forward with a sly grin. His name was Tommy, nicknamed Yellow Dog.
"You said that last time, Yellow Dog," Arthur sneered, his eyes gleaming dangerously.
"But boss, we didn't have these back then!" Yellow Dog said eagerly, rushing over to one of the vehicles and pulling back a tarp to reveal an impressive stash of weapons. "Heavy machine guns! Rocket launchers! And look at this... well, I can't even move it, but there's even a Gatling gun in here!"
He stepped back with a smirk, letting the sight of the weapons sink in. "With this firepower, there's nothing in NYC that can stop us. Not even Erza! Imagine her, boss. She'd be yours to do with as you please."
A gleam of sadistic anticipation flickered in Arthur's eyes. He imagined the fierce woman broken and begging for mercy. "If she resists, she'll end up like the rest," he growled, raising his glass in a toast. "Once I'm done, I'll share her around. Everyone here gets a taste!"
The men erupted in drunken cheers, their voices echoing across the yard. None of them noticed the silent figure that collapsed from the guard post atop the wall, a long, thin spike lodged in his chest. As his body slumped over, a mechanical spider with sleek, metallic legs withdrew its leg from the wound, its cold, red eyes scanning for the next target.
In the woods outside the prison, Zack listened to the updates from his AI assistant, Ego, through his MV-01 suit. At his feet, a mechanical dog crouched, watching the prison silently, its tail twitching occasionally.
"Sir, the outer guards have been neutralized," Ego's voice reported. "The mechanical spider is en route to the gate control room."
Inside the prison, the mechanical spider moved swiftly, scaling the walls with ease, its pointed legs digging into the concrete as it descended to the ground level. It moved like a shadow, silent and deadly, as it slipped through the compound toward its target.
"Hmm?" Yellow Dog squinted as something darted past his field of vision. He nudged the man beside him. "Did you see that?"
"See what?" the man replied dismissively. "You're seeing things. Here, keep the girl company."
But Yellow Dog shook his head, a sense of unease settling in. Ignoring the woman, he peered toward the prison wall—and froze. The guards he had stationed there were slumped over, dead, each with a gaping hole in their chest. "Enemy attack! Enemy attack!" he screamed, panic rising in his voice as he pointed to the spot where he'd last seen the metallic blur.
But it was too late. Inside the gate control room, the mechanical spider connected with the power switch, sending a signal to the prison gates. With a grinding whine, the heavy iron doors began to open slowly, creaking as they parted. The prisoners turned to stare, shock flashing across their faces.
Then, from outside, a gleaming silver figure shot through the opening. The mechanical dog's claws gleamed under the dim prison lights as it shredded a prisoner's chest effortlessly. Panicked gunfire erupted as some prisoners frantically aimed at the metallic beast, only to watch in horror as their bullets bounced harmlessly off its reinforced exterior.
"What are you all standing around for?" Arthur shouted furiously. "Get to the convoy and grab the heavy artillery!"
Snapped back to reality, a group of criminals scrambled to the convoy nearby. They tore off the oilcloth covering, revealing an armory of heavier weapons. Just then, another mechanical figure—a spider-like machine with razor-sharp limbs—emerged from the shadows. Its limbs moved with deadly precision, striking out to impale and eliminate any prisoner in its path.
"Where the hell did all this come from?" Arthur cursed, raising his Desert Eagle and firing desperately at the advancing mechanical spider. Yet his bullets bounced off as the spider edged closer, unhindered.
Just as it seemed Arthur would be killed, a new sound cut through the air—a deep, thunderous roar as a Gatling gun spun up. A blazing line of fire erupted, narrowly missing Arthur's ear but catching one of the spider's legs, tearing it clean off with its force.
Arthur spun around in shock, only to see his own subordinate, Yellow Dog, wielding the Gatling gun. Moments ago, Yellow Dog had struggled to lift it, but now, as if possessed, he handled it single-handedly, his other arm feeding the ammo chain. Without hesitation, he unleashed a relentless hail of bullets on both mechanical creatures.
The Gatling's storm of bullets soon turned toward Arthur. "You dare betray me?!" Arthur's face twisted in fury, but before he could act, the fiery stream of bullets sliced through his body, splitting him in two.
"Boss!" someone screamed from the crowd.
Another prisoner, Scorpion, shouted in rage, "You filthy traitor!" He raised his gun to fire at Yellow Dog. But Yellow Dog swiftly redirected the Gatling gun, ripping Scorpion to shreds in a matter of seconds.
Outside the prison, Zack observed the scene via satellite feed, his jaw dropping in amazement. "This guy's staging a whole rebellion during an attack?" he muttered incredulously. "Ego, who do you think gave them the guts to do this?"