I sat back waiting as my units loaded onto the transports. I had managed to get a second Air Bus shortly after the Butcher. After both were loaded the two VTOLs flew towards Mystic Mass territory. Meanwhile I looked through the Phantoms ahead at what I was going into.
A mix of Dark Society, Morning Glory and Iron Wolves were pushing behind Fury, who was continuing to grow as she pressed forward. Only Mystic Mass themselves were out in defense, at least for the moment. When and where the Ambassadors would show or the Travelers weren't my problem. But if I had to guess, probably waiting in the wings until I routed Fury.
The reason they had likely resulted in bringing up Fury to lead a charge was currently standing on the opposite side of the respective front lines. Heaven's Light, the leader of Mystic Mass. Even now I could see pillars of golden light raining down on Fury as he tried to drive her, now fifteen feet tall and growing form, back. Heaven's Light was a big reason Mystic Mass had lasted as many assaults as they had. He could call down his pillars anywhere he could see within his range, which spread out for at least several blocks.
If you were far enough away that wasn't too much of a problem. The further out from him they were the longer it took for the pillar to form. A circle forming and glowing both in the sky and on the ground indicating where it was about to appear. Making it dodgeable, but the closer to him you got that charging time dropped significantly. Around his immediate person they were formed practically instantly, which made getting close to strike a blow a massive occupational hazard if you couldn't tank the hit or fly above the height limit his pillar could reach.
The other option was to simply hit him from a range where he couldn't form them or at least they were manageable to dodge. You'd think that would make dealing with him easy still, especially since he had a habit of simply walking out in the open chanting prayers like an obsessive priest. But that was where Martyr came in. Another cape of Mystic Mass, a brute with a high tolerance for punishment and an even higher regenerative factor. He could mark a single person for a time, and for the duration any damage taken, mental or physical, was shunted to Martyr instead.
So sure, you could shoot Heaven's Light in the face, it would just jump to Martyr who, it seemed since he was apparently still kicking around, was more than capable of surviving it. I'd seen several nights now from the Phantoms of the crazy bastard walking into gunfire, filling the streets with pillars sending capes and normals alike running. Only for every shot to simply do nothing as Martyr, wherever he was hiding nearby, took the damage for his leader.
Fury however could tank the pillars, her craggy skin required kinetic force to break through that the pillars couldn't produce. The burning effect they inflicted was something her skin could more than handle. Heaven's Light didn't seem willing to see if Martyr, and by extension him, would survive an up close encounter with the city's resident hulking beast and as a result were conducting a fighting retreat. I honestly couldn't blame him for not wanting to try, I wouldn't in his situation.
The Protectorate was on scene as well, trying to reach Fury, but the capes supporting her were keeping them at bay for now. I kept an eye on the PRT HQ downtown. They'd pulled out the big guns last time and there was a chance they would again. Only problem for Mystic Mass was that it probably wouldn't be soon enough. According to Accord, getting authorization to fire one of those missiles was steep. By the time all the boxes were checked Fury would likely already be full size and have done more damage than Mystic Mass could withstand long term. Especially if they couldn't get Bastion in range to throw up fields to mitigate the collateral damage. Something they had done last time to get the firing approved sooner.
Asshole was probably down there somewhere… fuck it not my problem right now. I had a job to do.
The two Air Bus transports flew overhead, heads turning up as they flew, before landing in the street behind Heaven's Light and the other Mystic Mass members in the street. They knew vaguely I wasn't here for them, I hadn't actually spoken to any of them but Accord had. They should know to stay clear and get out of the way.
They started to do just that, members rushing off the street into alley ways as they cleared the space inbetween my drop zone and Fury. I'd come in force, three APCs, two Busters, one Liquidator, the MKIII, six Lobbers, four Engineers and twenty Enforcers. There were maybe three intersections in between where they had dropped and where Fury now stood, who was now twenty feet tall, and had collapsed crawling on her hands and knees as her legs could no longer keep her enormous form upright.
Not wasting any time the three APCs lined up in the street as the units that were in their holds funneled out, and as they did they began the process of breaking Fury's form and opened fire. All three main cannons fired in unison, shells flying across the street exploding against Fury's form as she roared in response. The missile launchers joined in unison as the Lobbers finished getting into position in the rear and began firing tear gas up and over around Fury and behind her to impede anyone from assisting. The canisters exploding in the air and the gas spreading out across the street.
The main threat I was worried about outside of Fury was Longstocking. Bastard could unironically hit as hard, maybe harder than Alexandria. Only difference was he couldn't fly, and the only part of him that was actually a brute was his legs, the rest of him just as durable as any other living person. The definition of a glass cannon. He could be deceptively mobile though with how fast his legs could move him, and he could definitely destroy anything I had in a single kick if he actually got close enough.
Granted just about anything I had would also take him down in reverse but regardless, I didn't want unnecessary losses. So I kept a close eye out for him amongst the capes on the field.
Finally, the final piece of my barrage. The new bots I had made over a week ago, the Busters. Standing around twelve feet tall they stood on two legs with a boxy torso. No head or arms, in their place two long rectangular barrels were mounted on swivels directly to the shoulder. They both got into position, slamming their feet into the ground, the asphalt cracking as their feet locked them into place and the two barrels roasted down from being pointed upright to facing directly to their front. The barrels were a downscaled version of the Percivals own cannon. As the cannons locked onto their target they opened up with ionized plasma.
Fury continued to roar under the assault, initially trying to crawl forward faster, until her craggy skin started to crumble, magma seeping through the wounds as her form slowly broke away from the onslaught. Then she began to try and turn and retreat. Eventually, her body erupted as it fell apart. Magma and rock falling away as Fury let her form erupt and fall away. I halted my barrage, as Fury herself eventually crawled out from the rubble of her discarded form and began trying to fall back through the tear gas towards her allies.
And just like that my job was done.
Only…
I looked to a different view from the Phantom, two PRT vans moving towards where my bots had dropped. Sighing, I turned the Lobbers their way and sent a couple volleys of smoke grenades to land in their path as the MKIII and several other bots moved to stand in their way. The Lobbers then went back to deploying ample amounts of tear gas to try and route the rest of the push.
The MKIII and escort reached the wall of smoke. Exiting out the other side just as the PRT neared it. Their vans screeching to a stop and Troopers deploying out the back into a defensive position, as a motorcycle came up behind them. Challenger.
A few heroes jumped out the back as well, several force fields came to life in between us. Bastion was here… fucking dick.
I brought the MKIII to a stop, shield flaring to life as the two Engineer drones detached off the pack and flew into the air, hovering either side of the suit. Behind it, eight Enforcers emerged and formed a line behind. Then finally the Liquidator, standing at twelve feet, stood on two legs. Its chassis similar to that of the Mongoose, the right arm had a plasma gatling gun in place of a hand. The left arm had a hand, but with a barrel on the underarm. Said barrel could serve one of two purposes, spraying knockout gas if the situation for its use ever arised again, and the other fire.
It had originally been designed in the off chance Blasto ever tried something. The flame thrower designed for dealing with swarms of organic monsters if the need arose. So far it hadn't, but it still acted as good muscle otherwise. It was stronger than an Enforcer, and even with only one hand could throw down up close if needed. Despite its intended use, it made for good imposing muscle.
Challenger, Chubster, Bastion, Blockade and Roulette. Three Protectorate and two Wards with two squads of Troopers in the rear.
We both stared down at each other, before finally I broke the silence. "That's far enough." I called out.
"Bastion not a word." Challenger shouted, before turning towards me. "Novax, I take it you aren't actually here."
"Why would I be?"
"Regardless, stand down. We-"
"I'm basically already finished. I only came here to knock over Fury, the moment the Lobbers are done firing tear gas I'm leaving anyway. If you want to thank me for saving your tax dollars feel free to send me a gift basket. White chocolate is my favorite for reference."
Challenger narrowed her one good eye.
I looked across the lot of them. They weren't moving. "Not going to try anything?"
"That suit going to blow up the intersection like the last one?" She asked.
"Worse, actually."
Challenger glanced over to Roulette, they looked at each other. Some unspoken conversation between the two before Roulette's eyes rolled back into her head for a moment before returning to normal. Then, looking back to Challenger she shook her head no.
"Then no. I'd rather not waste my energy right now trying to take down a suit that will just blow a street to hell and be replaced in a few days."
Bastion's head darted towards her, fists clenching. "The Ch-"
"She isn't here!" Challenger cut him off before he could even begin. "I am, it's my call. If she's already about to leave we don't prolong her and risk her shooting more explosives in city limits."
"Got something to say Bastion?" I challenged. "Go on, even I take the time to listen to idiots every once in a while."
"Basti-" Challenger started.
"No, no. I want to hear from him. I'm curious." I mocked. "No ambush today?"
Bastion looked towards my suit. "It may not be today, it may not be tomorrow, but eventually, the hammer is going to drop on your thick skull."
"Maybe. Probably even." I started. "Guess we'll just have to wait and see what's stronger. Your hammer or my skull. If you do you better hope it's the hammer…" I turned before he could respond. "We're done here." Before sending the units back to the rest as the two Air Buses began moving to retrieve my units.
I'd leave the rest to the Ambassadors and the Travelers. I was holding my stance on not risking losing units if it could until the MACU was complete. I was half worried they might still try pushing forward even after Fury, even despite the tear gas. But the tear gas seemed enough to send the rest the other way. That or no one wanted to throw down with me after the Butcher, or maybe it was a mix of both that and the tear gas. Regardless, I'd done my job in a short amount of time.
As I loaded everything back up to return I prepared to call Accord to let him know. Mentally going over his peculiar habits Citrine had informed me of. Figured it was only polite to at least try and not drive my ally to wanting to strangle me any more than he usually does.
It was done. The MACU… it was finally done. I couldn't tell you how long I stood there and just… stared at it. I felt giddy, like a kid in a candy shop. Only instead of candy it was a scaled down war machine. It was identical to an actual ACU in appearance, only unlike the forty meter height of the ACU the MACU stood at thirty feet. Still, it was big.
My unit limit had shot through the roof. And with it my transition to protocrafters had begun. I had managed to get two more MKII reactors complete alongside the MACU without pushing back its completion date. Something that was much needed, the entire reason I had stuck with nano-constructors this long was the sheer energy requirement for them. The first of them was lodged squarely in the left arm of the MACU.
The next three days after it's completion I had spent… probably an unhealthy amount of time inside the MACU, but I didn't care. Inside there were basic necessities. The real deal had an entire living quarters inside, the MACU was more comparable to the cabin of an eighteen wheeler. Just enough space inside for a small bed and a food and water processor plus a small toilet. In case I ever needed to stay inside for long periods, or just did, considering I hadn't left it since I first stepped inside. Except for when I needed to shower.
Being inside of it just… felt right. Sure, it was practically a metal coffin, but it was my metal coffin. Plus it was a metal coffin with an antimatter blaster in the right arm. Meaning it was a really fucking cool metal coffin.
I would still be staying inside the bunker. There was no reason to actually send the MACU out unless things were really serious to the point I thought I'd need its build power or an overcharged shot anywhere. But if I ever did there was a quantum gate big enough for it, and I had built the arches for one at both the Somerville outpost and at Fort Bluff to transport it if needed. They weren't active, but they were there if they needed to be. Eventually when I could better afford it I'd give the MACU its own teleporter.
After the MACU I had begun a total revamp of my economy. The first of a bigger mass extractor design in the bunker mass points. Yet another MKII reactor bringing me up to four with more and a new design on the way. Plus my unit constructors slowly began swapping over to protocrafters. With it, my unit numbers were shooting up. And the first of two of my air units were complete.
I'd admittedly lost track of the gang war outside beyond what Accord requested of me in terms of the Phantoms patrols and video feed. But I had been too invested into the initial swings of having the MACU operational to really-
Well speak of the devil, Accord was calling. Guess he needed a Phantom moved somewhere or something. I picked up the call.
"Accord, how can I help-"
"Novax."
I froze, blinked, that wasn't Accord's voice. Or one of the Ambassadors, the person it was, should have sent an alarm screaming through my head and then I should have cut the call immediately, but I was caught so off guard I responded. "Armstrong?"
How the hell-
"How many Enforcers do you have?" Accord's voice jumped in after his.
My mind did a second backflip. What the hell was happening. "Back up, why is-"
"It's a conference call, a truce is in effect now answer the fucking question!" Accord snarled. "Every second counts."
Armstrong jumped in right after. "I know you don't like giving details on your tech but I need you to answer. How many do you have, how long does it take for you to make them recognize a target on their own, and how long can they go before running out of ammo?"
My mind froze for a moment. Any other day if someone asked me those questions I would have told them to take a hike. But it was something about the tone in their voice, the sense of urgency, something was wrong and so I answered.
"Not including anything else I have around sixty to seventy of them, I can update their targeting recognition really quickly, it doesn't take long, and they won't run out of ammo and I'm not elaborating on why."
"Good." Armstrong responded. "Fucking perfect even. How quickly can you deploy them?"
"Depends on how many I'm sending-"
"All of them. Every last one." Armstrong cut me off.
I stopped. "What the fuck is going on?"
"Just get your Phantoms over the industrial area west of Admiral's Hill and get your robots moving. And make sure they are set to lethal." Accord answered. "We'll explain as you do but you're the one person in the city that can deploy in force the fastest. Get moving now before things get more out of hand than they already are."
I didn't know what was happening, but Accord and Armstrong together wasn't a good sign. I started punching in orders as I listened, and eventually saw what was happening.
"Oh… oh fuck."
The Teeth
It had been well over a week since they'd manage to slip out of Malden with Spree. Barely escaping the same fate as the rest of their gang. Not completely unscathed though. Spree had gotten shot on the way out, and his face was too well known to try a hospital. They'd done what they could for him, but while he had lived so far he was getting worse.
The door to the abandoned basement opened. Zach turned to the entrance going for his knife, only to see Melissa walk in the door. "I got it." She said, dangling keys from her fingers as she walked in. Her Teeth garb long since discarded, same for his and Spree's. It was too dangerous to wear it now, they had to blend in. Well, they did, Spree's face was known.
"You got a car?" He asked, hopeful.
"Yeah, we can get the fuck out of here."
"What about Spree?" He asked, looking back to check and make sure he wasn't awake. Sound asleep. "He still might not survive the trip to New York. He wanted to hit an ambulance before and rest more before-"
"Fuck Spree." Melissa whispered, carefully eyeing Spree in the background. "Even if we did, and he lived long enough to get well enough to travel to New York, what then? We don't even know if the cell down there is still there. If they are smart they'll disband, there's no Butcher to protect them anymore. It's time we cut our losses, leave this fucker already."
He looked her in the eyes, conviction building. Before the sound of Spree waking caught his attention. The man sitting up in the makeshift mattress he laid on. He looked disheveled, skin pale, bags under his eyes. They'd done the best with his wound but it apparently wasn't enough. He hadn't been healing well and now it seemed the wound had gotten infected after Spree had managed to reopen it somehow. He probably didn't have long.
"Did you get it?" He rasped.
Melissa nodded.
"Good… lets… let's go. I need antibiotics…" He managed.
Melissa and Zach looked between each other and with conviction in their eyes made their decision.
They got Spree to the car, and began driving slowly, and sure enough the man dozed off in the back seat. They changed course, driving to a nearby industrial yard instead of their intended destination. Melissa brought the car to a stop, turning around and nodding to Zach, who nodded back and opened the side door and unbuckled Spree. Shoving him out the door before the man could wake up and react.
Spree hit the dirt, as the car sped off.
He pushed himself up, looking at the car's retreating form. "You fuckers!" He yelled weakly, but without the energy to actually get up and try to stop them. He slumped, his face going in the dirt.
"Fuck…". He mumbled, getting a handful of dirt in his mouth in the process. Lifting up his head he weakly spit it out.
He slowly forced himself to his feet, hands going to his side. A warm wet feeling meeting his hand, the wound had reopened again… fuck. He looked around, spotting the nearest building in the industrial yard he had been left in, and began hobbling his way towards it. He needed to get out of the cold, the sun was starting to go down, maybe inside it would be warm…
Sundancer
"We understand your concerns, but this isn't the time table originally agreed upon." Citrine spoke.
"To hell with the time table. None of us are comfortable staying here any longer. You guys are moving around way more than we are." Trickster responded.
It was this conversation again. The Ambassadors had been constantly moving locations to prevent being targeted after Fury struck Charlestown. After being hired by Accord they had started doing the same, the moves fronted by Accord. Only problem was Noelle. Moving her discreetly wasn't exactly… simple. Which meant they couldn't move as often as the Ambassadors. And they couldn't leave her behind, otherwise she got… cranky. Their current spot being that of an old recycling plant. The large warehouse building they were in served as a makeshift shelter. A large room even served to hold Noelle, separate from the rest of them, but close enough to keep her content.
"While I understand, we all know the steps that have to be taken to move you discreetly are arduous. Accord's schedule for these movements are clear, so long as you are following his instructions the chances of being followed back are minimal. Making such a drastic change is costly, time consuming, and most importantly will drive him up the wall. We can implement extra precautions but you'll simply have to wait a few more days." Citrine said, standing tall all prim and proper.
They were all in the room save Noelle. Trickster, Ballistic, Genesis, herself and Oliver.
On the other side Citrine stood in her yellow dress alongside a second ambassador in a deep blue-green dress with a mask made out of a seashell by the name of Ligeia.
"And if we get followed back here in those next few days?" Ballistic asked.
"The same answer applies as every other time you've asked. We handle it. It will be no different than any other day you go out. Again, your concerns are valid, but this is the agreement you and Accord came to and it's been fine so far and will continue to be so long as you follow his instructions for returning."
"Those instructions are bonkers." Ballistic retorted. "I'm barely able to remember all the shit in them let alone follow them perfectly. What does he think we are? Robots? Not to mention I'm sick and tired of going through the fucking sewers."
Citrine leveled a look at Ballistic, sighing. "Again I understand your frustrations but… actually better question. You have been following Accord's instructions on your returns right?"
Ballistic looked away, herself and the rest of the Travelers had the decency to look at least a little sheepish.
"Well… mostly…" Trickster said.
"What do you mean mostly?" Ligeia spoke up.
"We've… cut some corners once or twice." Trickster replied. "They aren't exactly… easy to follow all the time."
Ligeia stared down Trickster while Citrine grabbed the bridge of her nose between her fingers and breathed in deeply.
"What?" Ballistic started. "Those instructions are nigh impossible to follow completely all the time."
Citrine stared at him. "Yet here you stand worrying about being found and wanting the schedule changed despite not following everything as you were told." She scolded him. "It's a miracle someone hasn't just walked through those doors-"
Irony, fate, coincidence, some funny joke. Whatever the reason, just as Citrine spoke those words and pointed in the direction of the door, they opened.
They all turned, as a disheveled man stumbled in holding his side. Blood seeped through his shirt. He stumbled, looking up at the room before collapsing to the ground. Muttering something too quiet to hear.
They all stared in silence for a moment.
"I'm sorry did Spree just walk in the fucking door?" Ballistic said, breaking the silence.
"Yes." Citrine deadpanned. "Yes he did."
"He looks like he's about to keel over." Trickster said. "Actually, didn't Novax kill him?"
He was right, Spree looked awful, and out of place not in Teeth attire. Said man responded by giving them the bird, before the area surrounding him turned yellow as Citrine used her power on the man and his surroundings. "No, he and a couple unpowered grunts escaped. PRT reports state as much and Novax confirmed herself.
"Should we… do something? Give him to Novax or… something." Trickster said.
"I think if we just let him sit there a minute he'll sort himself out to be quite honest." Citrine said.
"Fuck… fuck you guys… help me…" Spree groaned.
"Do not help him. If he starts making clones before Citrine is finished, if you would be so kind as to chuck something his way Ballistic." Ligeia said.
Citrine sighed. "I'll talk to Accord about moving the next move up in light of… unexpected events." She motioned towards Spree. "In the meantime-"
The wall burst open cutting off Citrine, rubble flying as they all dove to the floor to dodge debris. With the exception of Genesis who could only hold up her arms in an attempt to protect herself in her wheelchair. A massive bear jumped through the hole in the wall. As large as a small moving van, it's brown fur covered in rock-like bone plates. It landed inside, right on top of Trickster, crushing the man's skull against the concrete floor before the man had time to react.
She didn't even have time to comprehend his sudden death before things got worse.
"Knock knock little birds!" A man laughed, Longstocking, entering wearing jeans, cleats and a blue jumpsuit with a sweatband and a scarf as a face covering.
Ballistic jumped up, chucking a steel rod at him that cracked as it broke the sound barrier. Only to be stopped as Longstocking jumped before the rod left his hand and blocked it midflight with his knee.
Behind the Bear and Longstocking more followed through the breach as she and her teammates, plus the Ambassadors, jumped back to their feet. Forgetting Spree as they tried to scramble to respond to the sudden ambush. A blood-like substance shot through the hole in the wall like a fire hose, slamming into Citrine and Ligeia, throwing them across the open space of the warehouse floor as the women were rising back to their feet. The culprit Capillary stood at the rear, leather trench coat and bandana mask covering her face.
Sundacner pulled herself to her feet, only to be tackled to the ground by a coyote-like creature that dashed inside. It's body morphing as it ran. Growing and losing extra limbs as it moved, before slamming into her as it sunk its teeth into her arm as it snarled, Grudge. The armor took most of the bite from the cape, but not all of it. She screamed as she began bashing her other fist against the side of their head.
Then a sudden burst of water appeared from nowhere, slamming into Grudge's side sending their now furry wet form flying backwards with a yelp. Now soaked, she looked back at the source of the water, Ligeia, the Ambassador's doing. Both her and Citrine were back on their feet moving forward. Their dresses in ruin as they both dripped with oily brown blood.
Several cracks shot out, Ballistic, she was unsure of his target. She jumped to her own feet, looking forward at the rest of the capes in front of her. A viking made out of metal, Adalvard, one of the Iron Wolves. Which meant the large bear was probably their other member Bödvar. Another stood beside Adalvard, a plain wooden mask with a crown of vines covering his face, as well as armor made out of wood that resembled that of a jester, Woodsurfer. Finally, a man in blue body armor and helmet that covered all but his eyes, Sámi. Wherever their fifth was, Diskan, she didn't know. But the man was a drone controller and was likely hidden away. Yet his drones were not immediately present.
Along with them, a large purple praying mantis with crab claws for hands was also coming through the breach, Coruela. Another Morning Glory Cape.
Three others were rushing in, all from Dark Society, their identical dress making it impossible to tell who was who.
They'd been found.
"What's going on? Why do I smell blood? Krouse? Is everything okay over there?" A voice boomed from further in the warehouse. Behind a large sheet metal wall.
Oh fuck. She looked towards Krouse's body, his squashed head still underneath the massive bone plated bear.
"Sundancer!" A voice caught her attention, Genesis. "Help!"
She looked towards her friend as she laid on the floor having fallen from her wheelchair, just in time to notice Capillary pointing her hand in her direction. A high pressure geyser of the oily blood like substance shooting from the Irish capes hands directly at her head. She rushed forward, tackling her friend out of the way just barely.
Several hypersonic cracks rang out, as Ballistic fired again. What he was aiming at she didn't notice in the chaos as the area around her began to lose color, turning to various shades of yellow. Along with more geysers of water shooting out from nowhere at the gap, forcing the invaders back.
Then the sound of tearing metal filled the warehouse, as the wall at the far end was sheared apart. The chaotic fighting she was barely able to keep track of faltered for a moment, as the combatants all looked in the direction of the sound. Just in time to witness several massive tentacles form from the darkness within, reaching out and grabbing the side of the wall as a walking mound of flesh emerged.
A walking flesh horror, covered in tentacles, eyes, various mouths littered with razor sharp teeth. All stacked on top of each other like a pyramid decrepit flesh resembling that of a butchers discard pile. Roughly dog shaped heads poked out at various points of her body. And finally, at the top of the flesh pyramid sat the torso of a girl. Who stopped as she took in the scene in front of her, staring directly at Trickster's corpse. The vicious ambush now completely silent as all present stopped, all, even those who knew of Noelle's existence staring on in horror.
Ironically, out of all the people in the warehouse, it was Spree who broke the silence. Still on the floor, barely clinging on to life.
"What the fuck is that!?" He groaned, just loud enough to echo across the room.
It was Noelle that spoke second. "Krouse? Krouse?! WHAT DID YOU DO TO KROUSE!?"
It was then that everything truly went to hell.
Challenger
Challenger raced through the city on her motorcycle, the setting sun in front of her as Dovetail followed overhead as they raced to the scene. Bastion and Shortstop were on patrol with a van full of PRT Troopers and had spotted a contingent of Morning Glory, Dark Society and Iron Wolves moving to an industrial yard near Admiral's Hill. They'd gone to follow, with her and other heroes dispatched to assist. They had reported arriving, fighting having only just begun with someone inside a warehouse. Only for Shortstop to start screaming over the radio about some monster and Bastion reporting being engaged.
"Console any word from them?" Challenger asked, hoping.
"Negative Challenger, still no word from Bastion, Shortstop or the squad of Troopers."
"Damnit!" She swore. "Me and Dovetail are almost on scene, we'll observe and report before engaging." That bastard better not be dead, she was looking forward to at least watching him get shipped off as recompense for herself getting stuck with this fucking job.
"Do you see anything Dovetail?" She asked over the radio.
"Yeah…" Dovetail began. "Looks like a tornado went through a warehouse up ahead…" Dovetail responded.
Challenger tore through the industrial yard, dirt kicking up behind the wheel of her motorcycle as she skidded to a stop about one and a half football fields away from the warehouse in question. Dovetail descending down next to her.
The scene was… absolute carnage. A warehouse torn asunder, the roof torn off with its walls littered with holes. The entire building was surrounded by shimmering energy fields. A collection of glimmering hexagons in the center, with various other force fields of various shapes forming a circulating wall of fields around something inside. The rest of the warehouse was drained of all colors with the exception of shades of red. Something large inside, heaving as if breathing heavily. An ominous sight.
The PRT van was ripped apart, and on its side a football field away from the warehouse. Trooper's bodies littered in the dirt. Along with a few capes it appeared. One dressed like a viking, Adalvard if she remembered correctly. His body crushed, as if he had been hit hard and sent flying out to where his body laid.
Along with…
"Dovetail is it just me or does it sound like…someone is crying inside?" Challenger asked. Looking through a hole in the wall at the large… thing that was still heaving.
"Yeah… it does." Dovetail responded. As they listened to a heavy weeping from inside that sounded… both like a girl and yet something… unnerving.
"Challenger to Console."
"Go for Console."
"On scene, it's… Something is wrong here. Got multiple dead villains, entire Trooper squad deceased and the van destroyed. No eyes or words on Bastion or Shortstop. Plus something crying inside a torn up warehouse, seems we found the aftermath of whatever happened here. Shit's covered in force fields though, some look like Bastions and… drained of color. Kind of like Citrine except it's red… not yellow."
"Copy, Console advises waiting for further support."
"Copy that Console, I was going to make the same call-"
"HEY!" A voice grabbed their attention from the side. Sundancer, her costume soaked, parts of it ripped apart, her helmet gone, blood dripping from one of her forearms. Along with a woman who looked shaken up on her back and a boy in tow who- did his face just change a bit?
"Challenger status? You cut out."
"Standby Console."
Challenger grabbed her rifle from the strap on her bike. "That's close enough."
"Dammit, stop jumping to guns and just listen! We've gotta get out of here! Noelle has lost it!" The girl on Sundancers back yelled.
"Who are you? And who is Noelle?"
"Who am I- I'm Genesis, Noelle is our teammate. That's not important right now, we've got to leave now! Before any of them come out!"
"Before who comes out?" Dovetail asked, warily.
"The clones!"
"What clones?" Challenger asked.
"Look, our friend Noelle is inside. She's lost her shit and she can create evil clones, evil parahuman clones. The powers aren't always the same but…"
Challengers one eye widened as she looked back towards the warehouse, her brain piecing everything together. Force fields that looked like Bastions, some not quite the same. And the building was drained of color except for one, all too similar to Citrine, only red instead of yellow.
"Fuck…" She darted her head back to the three Travelers. "What happened to Bastion and Shortstop?"
"They got eaten." Sundancer began. "They're probably alive, but as long as they are in there she can make more of them. Which is why we need to leave and get help."
Challenger looked back at the warehouse, squirting her eyes at one of the holes in the wall. Back at the large… thing. "What is-" She started, pointing at the creature inside.
"It's Noelle, now can we fucking go? Before a clone of Ballistic comes out and starts chucking shit at us?!" Genesis said.
"She's right, Challenger." Dovetail said. "If they're telling the truth we might need the cavalry."
Challenger grimaced. "Challenger to Console, get Armstrong on the horn and put out an all call. I want every Protectorate and Ward on duty as of five minutes ago. Possible A-Class threat in the old recycling plant. Tell Armstrong we need a priority request put into the Think Tank for a threat assessment, see if we need to make this an S."
"Console copies."
She then turned back to Sundancer. "The small one and Genesis can ride with me, Dovetail will carry you Sundancer. How many has she made and of who?"
Sundancer began answering as she moved forward. "She got Bastion, Shortstop, Ballistic, Citrine, Ligeia, Lockstocking, Woodsurfer, Coruela, Capillary, a couple of Dark Society I couldn't recognize, one might have been Lesher. There were a few she got clones of but didn't eat, Bödvar, Adalvar and… she got one of me as well. I couldn't tell you the exact numbers…"
"Don't forget the Spree." The third Traveler she didn't know spoke up.
"Oh yeah, she ate Spree too. But he-"
"I'm sorry." Challenger interrupted. "What the fuck was Spree doing here?"
Sundancer shrugged. "I don't know. He just kinda… walked in before everything went to shit. We never got any time to figure out how the fuck he even ended up here. Dude looked like he was about to die any minute. He got slammed into a wall before she ate him, so he might actually be dead but he didn't die immediately. There was at least one clone of him. Oliver saw him pop out as we ran, he was one of the first to get snagged. Now can we please leave?"
"Damnit…" Challenger cursed. "Fine, lets go-"
"Challenger." Dovetail grabbed her attention. "We got movement."
Challenger turned, a person walked out of the warehouse, wearing no clothing, staring up at them.
"That's the Spree!" The kid, Oliver, exclaimed.
"Do they go away? Or-"
"Only way to stop them is to kill them, they don't die on their own like Spree's."
Challenger nodded. "Get ready to go Dovetail." She stepped off her motorcycle, taking a knee and leveling her rifle before taking a shot at the Spree standing just outside the warehouse. She pulled the trigger, but a moment before a wall of interconnected blue hexagons appeared in front of the clone, blocking the shot.
"Shit." She swore. "Fuck it, they know we're here, lets go." She grabbed Genesis from Sundancer, placing the girl on her bike in front of her so she could make sure she stayed on. While Oliver got on behind her, grabbing her so he wouldn't fall off. Dovetail hovered over, grabbing Sundancer underneath her arms and prepared to lift off with the girl in tow.
As they did, Challenger watched as the Spree across the way began to cackle, and then his body began to vibrate. Clones began to shoot out of him, only unlike the original their skin was a ghostly pale white, reminding her of Alabaster back up in Brockton.
With her passengers on board she began to turn her bike around. Only for Oliver to call out before she fully hit the gas.
"Guys, I thought Spree's clones were supposed to die on their own?"
"Wha-" Challenger began to say, as she turned to look back at the Spree, her one good eye widening as she saw what he was talking about. He wasn't creating them as fast as the original, but they were still flowing out at a rapid pace. She looked at the swarm already formed in front of her, already several dozen and growing. The original Spree's clones would end up brain dead within a few seconds, these clones…
They weren't dying.
She looked away, slamming on the gas. Dovetail took off with Sundancer behind her just as several cracks went off behind them, bricks sailing past at insane speeds they just barely avoided. She looked back for a moment as several more clones that had come outside, Ballistic is she had to guess by the bricks.
"Challenger to Console! Get me Armstrong now! Upgrade the threat rating to S! We've got one hell of a problem!"
If those Spree clones didn't start dying on their own… or if there was more than one like that…
She sucked in her breath.
God, she hoped not.
From the moment I gained my powers and made my first nano-constructor out of garbage I'd been jumping from one bottle neck to another. In the beginning it was energy, operating off a battery and eventually some shitty solar panels. Then when I first got to Boston and began to excavate my bunker it was a combination of build power and energy. Not having enough Engineers and then eventually not having enough power for them to go at full tilt when I did. Then, after my first reactor, it quickly became mass.
It still was. Even since getting the MACU. Right after it came online I started replacing mass extractors with a new design double the size of the current one. Twenty feet instead of ten. Right on the threshold where I could keep them underground in the bunker before I'd have to commit to having them visible in some way on the surface. In the three days since getting the MACU, of the six mass points I had, three of them in the bunker base had received the first stage of the new model.
Yet, even with that my mass income still couldn't keep up with the build rate of the new protocrafters. The proper construction tool used in the ACU and all the Engineer designs my full kit had. The nano-constructors were but a watered down form of the technology that while much slower on the build speed front didn't require anywhere near as much energy to operate at a reasonable pace.
With now seven MKII and four MKI nuclear fusion reactors I was at a point I could begin to use them. But even then the situation wasn't perfect. When I first got the bubble shield at Fort Bluff I had it operating on a lower capacity than it normally would have to lessen the load on the grid to maintain my unit constructors. That had gone away once the first MKII reactor came online, but even then while it had allowed me to power a quantum gate I wasn't able to keep it online indefinitely. Just enough to keep it going for about an hour non stop assuming the shield at Fort Bluff was the only big thing drawing power. As more came online that time limit slowly evaporated but now with the protocrafters…
I once more had to pick and choose. The MACU powered itself, and could fire a reclamation beam just fine. Ripping things apart was easier than putting them back together. But building required drawing on the entire grid, doing so with the MACU at full tilt would require the two bubble shields lowering to fifty percent capacity and all other construction queues that were utilizing protocrafters instead of nanos to halt. No gates either.
With the exception of five Engineers plus the MKIII suit, all twenty five of them were still utilizing nanos, but my unit constructors weren't. The bus sized machines resembling several mechanic car lifts linked together had all been fully swapped over to the new tech. Of which there were now more than the one inside Fort Bluff as two had been built in the bunker itself since gates became an option.
In total, not including normal unit operation or nano-constructors, I could realistically only have two things running at full capacity at a time. The two dome shields, a combination of the protocrafter Engineers and MKIII suit building, the three unit constructors, two gates, or the MACU.
Problematic considering the situation. It was bad, without factoring in any of the other threats, the clone of Spree and its subsequent clones were bad enough. It had apparently only been five minutes since the problem started when Challenger first apparently saw the clone begin to multiply to the point Armstrong had been informed and began the process of organizing a response, eventually contacting Accord and then through him, me. It was slower than the original, based on Challengers observations from their short encounter with the clone; it was only ten clones every three seconds compared to fifteen. But that didn't matter, because these clones didn't die after a few seconds.
Five minutes, three hundred seconds, ten clones every three. That was a thousand Sprees that, I could only assume, wouldn't discriminate on acceptable targets if the whole evil clone spiel I had been given meant anything. And it was only going to get worse, and that wasn't even considering the rest of it.
Time was of the essence, and the moment the initial breadth of the crisis had been explained I felt myself go straight into combat mode as I ordered a full activation of every single unit in my arsenal save one and the MACU.
Godbless the MACU, regardless how the next hour or so would go if it wasn't for it going into this would be a lot worse. The biggest upgrade from its completion was my new unit cap. Before, not including Engineers, defenses or infrastructure, I had a hard limit of sixty combat units I could operate.
At my height my arsenal had included thirty of the Mech Marine based Enforcers, ten of the four wheeler sized Lobo based mortar Lobbers, three APCs of my own design, two air transports, two of the Percival based Busters, two Mongoose based Liquidators, two Phantom scouting drones and the MKIII combat suit. The vast majority of which I had deployed not even days earlier against Fury.
That limit now ranged in the thousands. The only problem was building them. In the three days post MACU the vast majority of my resources went into the economy. More mass, more energy. But my numbers had still increased.
Sixty seven Enforcers, eighteen Lobbers, four air transports, six APCs, six Liquidators, four Busters, four Phantoms and of course the MKIII. It had practically doubled in three days despite being on the back burner in comparison to the much more expensive economy upgrades.
I wished I had focused on units more now. I halted all build queues and set all three unit constructors to go full tilt on nothing but Enforcers. They were meant to be the cheapest thing I could make. With my current mass situation, minus the stuff set aside to maintain munition use, my reserves sat empty almost always as whatever came in was immediately spent. In that state though a single unit constructor could still pump out four Enforcers an hour with how cheap they were in comparison to everything else. A massive upgrade from needing a whole day to add about ten to my arsenal. With all three going I'd be able to send out another three Enforcers to combat the Sprees every fifteen minutes. And if I could reclaim their corpses as I went… All hope was not lost just yet.
And I still had new toys to leverage as well.
"I'll help. How long until the PRT will have their response organized?" I asked Armstrong as I began issuing orders. Whatever issues I had with the PRT were on hold, this was too important.
"We're working on it. Strider is being contacted and word has gone out for assistance. Eight to ten minutes for us to get a forward operating base started and for local assets to be properly organized and begin deploying en masse for a threat of this magnitude. But even then actually engaging and containing it adequately is a whole different time schedule. Outside assistance depends on Strider's readiness and our ability to get the forward operating base up so assistance isn't being teleported too far away from the problem."
"What about the Triumvirate?" I asked, this was labeled an S-Class threat after all.
"Informed and on standby per my request. Until we have a better grasp of everything we're up against I'm not risking making things even worse with an evil Triumvirate clone. Once we have a better picture or if things get more dire they'll come. I'm sorry if this seems like I'm trying to take advantage of you, but your bots are the best available quick response we have that doesn't risk more clones. And regardless of your relationship with the PRT I doubt you want this happening anymore than we do."
I couldn't really blame him to be honest. Plus he was right, I didn't want this happening. And I was the quickest and closest available response that didn't risk making the problem even worse. Anything I lost today I could replace much more readily now anyways. I could choke back any grudges I had if it meant saving lives.
"Can we focus on the task at hand?" Accord said irate. "And move this onto a channel that is useful for everyone involved and not a personal phone line?"
"He's right, a technician will send you details to temporarily link into our comm system." Armstrong stated.
"Right. I'll send over details to access the feed of my scouting drones to help coordinate the response."
Without a word I disconnected from the call and forwarded the same access I gave Accord to the PRT and created the temporary link into their communications systems. I could always sever them later, and protections were in place just in case someone tried anything funny.
"I'm here." I said, as I watched my newest aircraft prepared to launch as my first wave began to depart as air transports from both Fort Bluff and the Somerville outpost began taking off with units magnetically attached to the long spine-like structure that connected its two sets of VTOL engines.
"Console to Novax, ETA on your bots and your scouting drones?" Some voice I didn't know asked the moment I spoke.
"Twenty seconds on the nearest Phantom. One minute on my nearest bots deploying, ."
"Console copies, the moment you have eyes on the threat, code-name Echidna, let us know."
As my Phantom flew over Boston in search of Echidna I quickly began to see the outer edge of the ever spreading swam of Sprees. Their skin pasty white, almost like Alabaster, as they moved through the city. They had already begun spilling out of the industrial area into the neighboring residential ones. Looking from above it was like watching something straight out of a zombie apocalypse movie. Zooming into the street the clones were going after anything that moved, they seemed almost rabid. I looked from above as a family of four ran out of their home, trying to get into their car only to be set upon by eight different Sprees. The father tried to fight them off only to be overpowered as the clones took him to the ground and began to slam his head into the concrete of his driveway as the rest mauled his wife and children. The youngest, barely old enough to walk, was picked up by her leg and slammed against the concrete like a child throwing a tantrum with a doll.
I felt the feeling of my power stir, it was agitated, anger beginning to seep in as it pushed for me to wipe the Sprees from existence. Only this time it felt different… while before with the Teeth it was in response to a group I directly protected and viewed as my own being attacked. This time the push didn't feel like it was in response to the innocents losing their lives, even if I personally didn't want it to happen any more than when the Teeth killed my own. But here the anger felt more directed to the Spree's existence themselves, the emotion trickled in along with the motion that… It was just my role to step up and eliminate the out of control threat.
I didn't know what that meant. Or have time to rationalize it as my newest toy finally began to raise itself on top of the Fort Bluff landing pad. The section of the roof opened as the elevator began to rise, revealing to the people standing down by the living area the first Vindicator gunship. A cheaper and smaller version of the Stinger gunship, four VTOL engines, two on the wings and two on the tail, plasma blasters on the underside of the wing alongside rocket pods, and finally a deployable heavy machine gun that would drop down from a hatch just under where the cockpit would be.
The two engines ignited as they flared blue as the plasma thrusters took it into the air, gaining to a high enough altitude before the engines began to rotate forward. Pointing the thrust behind it as it flew off into the night towards Admiral's Hill.
At the same time my Phantom found her, circling high up from as far as I could manage to avoid risking being targeted.
Echidna.
It was hard to miss her, she was a horrific sight. Like some butcher had taken every piece of meat from their discard pile and sewn them together into their very own Frankenstein's monster. She moved through the city eastbound, force fields of various shapes and every color under the rainbow appearing and disappearing around her to compensate for her movement. Like a walking 3D kaleidoscope. Surrounding her within the moving dome of fields a collection of naked clones walked alongside her, with one in particular present. Creating more and more clones that rushed out in every direction as they appeared.
"I have eyes on Echidna, she's moving eastbound, just entering the New England Produce Center. The Spree is with her, and she's got a lot of force fields appearing and disappearing around her. Did she get Bastion?" I asked.
"Yes, she did. Bastion and Shortstop attempted to intervene before the nature of the situation was known. Currently believed both are inside Echidna. Our objective is to save them and the others inside if possible. I'll forward you the list of who we think she actively has inside her or has clones of." Some random PRT agent responded.
Shit… as much as I hate the bastard I didn't want him eaten. Not because he didn't deserve it, but because now it was going to make my job harder. Regardless, if the Protectorate was going to try and save the people inside that limited what I could do. I'd have to focus on killing clones while they figured out that issue. I could theoretically use a reclamation beam if things got desperate, but it'd be risky. Once organic material was green lit it wouldn't discriminate between Echidna's flesh and those trapped within.
My first air transport began to close into the outermost part of the Spree swarm. The industrial area everything had apparently started in was pressed against the Malden and Mystic river to its west and south. Meaning only to the east and north the swarm could expand without being funneled through choke points.
In total there were three bridges that were close enough they could use to cross the river into Charlestown across the Mystic. And one to cross into Malden without having to go all the way up and around where it ends. If I could contain their expansion at those points I could mitigate the damage. Especially with their source moving farther and farther east. The air transport came down over the closest bridge to the Spree swarm, just as they began crossing the threshold for their side.
Deploying three Enforcers and a Lobber it took back off into the evening sky as it set off to do the same at the other three bridges. With the Lobber on standby in case things became too much for small arm fire, my Enforcers took equidistant positions on the center of the bridge as the first Sprees began to cross. Only about a dozen to start, as light poured out of the Enforcers cyclops eyes as they recognized and locked onto the Sprees. Raising their arms up from the elbow facing forward. Gunshots rang out as they engaged with impunity, gunning them down as they rushed forward mindlessly like rabid dogs. Frothing at the mouth, snarling like animals.
"I'm dropping bots on the four closest bridges that span the Mystic and the Malden. The Sprees haven't quite reached them yet. Should mean we realistically only have to worry about the north and east. If I can hold them, assuming they don't try to swim. But we'll burn that bridge if it becomes a problem." I informed the channel at large. "I'm also sending in a gunship to try and take out the main Spree. See if I can stop them from the source."
"A gunship? Whe- You know what nevermind, understood. Accord, how far are you from the FOB in Eagle Hill?" Armstrong asked, clearly stressed based of the tone of his voice.
"Seven minutes. Compulsion and Midir have been contacted, they are willing to assist if it means saving the members currently being held." Accord responded, the sound of a car driving in the background. Seems he was still on a phone but being routed into the normal channels.
"Good. Initial Think Tank assessments should be coming in soon." Armstrong responded.
"Do we know what she wants? Does she want anything? Or is she just rampaging for the hell of it?" I asked while waiting for the Vindicator to reach Echidna.
"We don't know. According to Challenger, Sundancer said Trickster dying sent her into a rage. She's already killed or consumed the ones directly responsible. What she's after now if anything we don't know."
"Novax!" A new voice jumped in, Challenger. "You said she's eastbound. Is Echidna heading towards the Mystic Mall?"
I checked. "Her current path will take her right to it. Sprees will get there first, probably within the next minute, maybe less?"
"Shit. Me and Sundancer are there. Dovetail is taking one of the Travelers to the FOB, and Genesis is carrying her own body there as well. We're trying to get the place evacuated but it's not going fast enough, how long before you get something our way?"
I looked at my transports. Three had taken off from Fort Bluff, the fourth from Somerville which was leaving garrisons at the bridges. "One minute and I'll have something there to help with the Sprees and whatever else."
"Copy."
Before that however I had something else to give my attention. The Vindicator was faster than my transports, and as a result reached its destination first out of the craft that took off from Arlington.
"Engaging Echidna and the Spree. Give me a moment."
The Vindicator began to descend as it neared its target, its engines rotated down as it reared back to bring itself to a hover before angling its engines to begin circling Echidna while keeping its front facing towards her. Eventually reaching the optimal height and distance to engage.
Just below where the cockpit would be a compartment opened and its gun dropped down as the safeties for the plasma blasters and rockets disengaged. It opened fire, tracers filling the increasingly darker sky as bullet casings fell from above down towards the ground below. Followed by blistering blue bolts of plasma and the streaking of rockets as it unloaded every weapon system it had at the section near Echidna's feet where the Spree stood. Body still vibrating as it shot out clone after clone.
If I had epilepsy, the response from the ground might have given me a seizure. As the rainbow assortment of force fields rapidly repositioned in flashes to block the incoming fire in the air. Triangles, squares, diamonds, circles, a whole assortment of shapes in a rainbow of colors. Some shimmered, some glowed, some shed particles like snow on a winter day. Regardless of the difference they all met the incoming fire up in the air.
Some cracked instantly, only to be replaced just as fast, some held but slowly faltered. Others withstood blow after blow without fail. Bullets flattening again one barrier, bouncing off another. Plasma slamming and dispersing against fields in a way that made it look like the substance inside a lava lamp. Explosions rocked some as smoke enveloped them.
Echidna looked up in the Vindicator's direction. A high pitched scream bellowing out as loud cracks began going off as objects began hurtling up in its direction at hypersonic speed. It began to evade, the objects small at first. Bricks, rocks, the arm of a man ripped apart by Sprees. Some slamming into the armor, some leaving small dents, but nothing that immediately threatened it. Then, nearby cars began to shake and then hover, and then the windows shattered as they suddenly rocketed towards the gunship.
They weren't as fast as Ballistics throws were typically, but it was several at once and without actually being touched. The Vindicator stopped firing, taking evasive maneuvers. Yet still getting clipped on one of its engines by a car. I quickly looked at the damage assessment. The engine was fine, but the hit had sent it spinning into an out of control descent and it was forced to fight to regain control in the air as more objects were sent flying in its direction.
It just barely managed to right itself and stop its uncontrolled spiral. Engines flaring as it brought itself to a stop just before it collided with a roof when my eyes widened as alerts began to blare.
Sundancer, or at least a clone of her, where I didn't know, but the car sized and growing ball of blue fire hurtling towards the Vindicator was enough to know she was somewhere nearby. As the ball plowed through buildings, glass melting, asphalt cracking, Sprees burning, as it hurtled towards the Vindicator hovering at roof level about six blocks north of Echidna. Leaving a path of destruction in its wake.
Shit. I ordered its retreat, the gunship giving max power to its engines as it reared its front up. Causing it to fly up and backwards before flipping around and rotating its engines placing the thrust behind it as it took off.
"The Spree is still alive. There's too many damn Bastion clones right now for me to hit anything. Also the Sundance is near Echidna, not sure where exactly but close." I called out over the hectic comms as the PRT continued to organize.
"Copy that Novax, it was worth an attempt." Some agent responded.
"Initial Think Tank assessment on the Spree is in. General consensus points to the original Spree being deceased, but inconclusive results on if there is a second clone. Assume there is to be safe, be on the lookout." Armstrong announced at large.
Shit, a second Spree was not something we needed. Hopefully if there was one it was more like the original.
I double checked my air transport orders as I began retasking the Vindicator to tackle large pockets of Sprees. Meanwhile my bots would be slowly dispensed ahead of the growing swarm to try and stem the flow or push it back. Engineers would follow to reclaim as they went. I'd focus on slowing the spread best I could and give people a chance to run. Save as many lives as I could until the local villains and the PRT had a properly organized response.
I queued an order for protocrafter Engineers to be picked up and dropped at the FOB. With construction orders to build a gate. With Echidna moving east, allowing them to be transported there would shorten the time needed to get them in the fight as they finished. As well as give me a direct avenue to the FOB if it came under attack. I'd ship the bots to Fort Bluff and then from there to the outpost as they came online. Along with a warning that if anyone walked through without permission that they would be met with active internal turrets that would shoot first and ask questions later.
I checked on the unit deployment. The four bridges were garrisoned each now with three Enforcers and one Lobber each. The transport responsible now joined two others in dispersing units around the north and east. To try and best cover as much ground as possible to not let any Sprees through. Meanwhile the fourth was getting ready to touch down at the Mystic Mall, to drop a more concentrated force in the way of Echidnas path where the clones were the most numerous. Stall for time for Challenger and Sundancer to leave and for civilians to run.
Challenger
"Come on move!" She screamed. Civilians had been pouring out of the mall into the parking lot. If only this had happened an hour later the place would have been closed.
The entire lot was in chaos as people panicked trying to get to their cars to leave. Herself and Sundancer, who now wore the bandana that normally covered her bad eye as a temporary face mask, were trying their best to coral the evacuation. It was only them, and a few police officers that happened to be nearby, it wasn't enough.
A crash followed by a car horn caught her attention behind her as some idiot crashed into a parked car trying to back out too quickly. A second car trying to drive down the same lane of the parking lot too fast then crashed into his side creating yet another blockage stopping the flow of cars.
"Oh for fucks same! Another one?!" She rushed over. "Get out and run-"
"But my car-" They started to protest.
"Fuck your car, what's more important a car or your life? Move it dipshit!"
Screams erupted further down the lot, she jumped on top of the crashed car. Using its height to see past the seemingly endless car jam and hectic stampede of people running as they realized their cars were no longer the fastest option.
Spree clones, they had begun swarming into the lot by the dozens.
"Shit, where the fuck is-" Her question was answered before she finished, as the sound of VTOL engines filled her ears as a long spine like craft swooped in overhead just in front of her. Coming to a hover and lowering itself. A collection of bots and vehicles attached underneath magnetically.
Ten of the man-sized bots detached from the spine, dropping to the ground and on top of cars as the craft then repositioned. Dropping six of the tiny four wheeler size ones further back. Two with crane-like arms on the top and the other four looking more like mobile mortars. Along with two massive robots, humanoid in shape but no with noticeable head or eyes, standing at twelve feet tall. A barrel strapped to the bottom of its left arm and a gatling gun in place of a hand on the right.
Gunfire pulled her attention back to the wave of Sprees. The man-sized robots began spreading out through the parking lot, some jumped onto cars, laying down nonstop gunfire at anything that moved that was pale, pasty and in the nude.
A thunk pulled her back the other direction, the four wheelers with the mortar tubes started firing. Shells flying high up in the air far past where she could see the closest Sprees. Explosions rigging in the distance.
"Challenger." Novax's voice came over the comms. "Get out and regroup with everyone else with Sundancer, I'll stall them here as long as I can and withdraw before Echidna arrives."
"Sundancer!" She called out to the Traveler, who looked her way a few rows of cars over. "Let's go, we're leaving."
She began to move, giving one more look back as the two large robots stomped forward, splitting in opposite directions. The one closest to her raising its right arm, minigun spinning letting out a flurry of blue bolts as the weapon hummed with energy. She began to turn away until she saw something moving fast in between the cars out of the corner of her eye. Turning, she noticed something blue, slithering through the cars towards the large robot.
She jumped on top of the nearest car to get a better look at the rapidly approaching creature. A large centipede as wide as a car and twenty feet long. With the head of a spider on the front and rear. Its limbs scurrying as it skittered, weaving in between vehicles by crawling on vehicles sides as it moved towards the giant robot. A Coruela clone?
It closed the distance, the robot still not looking it's way as it fired in a different direction at another group of Spree entering the car lot. "Look out!" She screamed, instantly feeling stupid as she remembered it was a life less robot. The only person that could do anything would be Novax, and she hadn't called out over the radio.
As it reached the robot it dived forward, the head at the front reeling up and lashing forward in a strike. Only for the robot to suddenly turn out of the way, swinging its minigun hand down smashing it in the head as it lashed out. Sending the beast's front head slamming into the ground, causing the asphalt to crack. It then raised its right leg, stomping down on what she would guess was its neck, if it even really had one. The many legs underneath the robot's foot flailed around, as it squirmed and tried to escape from underneath..
Meanwhile, the opposite end of the giant centipede curled and raised up, the spider-like head taking its own attempt at chomping down on metal contraption. The robot's other arm raised up, and grabbed it by the mandibles, holding the head back. A green noxious liquid began to gather inside the head's mouth, but before anything could be done with it the robot took its other arm and spun up its minigun once more. Unloaded blue bolts of energy into the creature's body, the centipede screeching in pain as holes burned through its carapace.
Only for the robot to then let go, stepping back and kicking the centipede's body, sending it flying into the nearest line of cars with a crash. Before it lowered its left arm. Sparks flew at the mouth of the barrel attached to its forearm before a stream of fire flew out. Scorching the bug and cars alike as the centipede let out a death scream, before the sound died out. Replaced with only the sounds of the surrounding gunfire and the crackling of the fire as the body and cars burned.
"Fucking hell…" She muttered, in both awe and horror.
"Challenger!" Sundancer's voice called out. "Let's go!"
She took a breath. "Right, coming!" It was going to be a long night…