GuNNhead

I regain consciousness hours later, and return to the tower to see what fate had befallen the city. But nothing is amiss. I head to the penthouse office and see that the damages are being repaired. Entering through an unfinished skylight, I am greeted by the tall one. I ask about the robot and this “challenge” I had lost. They say that it was really more of a judgement…

Shining Booster Techrider, Justice Enforcement Machine. Created by the engineers who designed the domed city, it is his home, his charge. He will stop at nothing to protect it. Until the internal barrier went up, he dispensed hard justice across the city, but since his Prison was on the outskirts of the city, he was shut down and his Fortress locked up and abandoned…

“But as far as for why he’s back, that info’s downstairs.”

When I step off the elevator, the short one spins around in their chair and shouts my name. They then inquire as to why it was so difficult for me to simply agree to not kill anyone in the city unprovoked. My lack of reaction prompts an explanation that those were the terms of the judgement laid forth by Techrider. He knew I could not be killed. They had shouted it after me, the words from his oration, but the sound of the duocycle must have drowned it out, though they assumed he would repeat them before the fight. I inform then that he did not. I had thought the stakes were much higher. There is a brief pause before they move on to talking about how he has returned.

This Techrider’s final outing was the night the inner dome was turned on. He was given crowd control duty, killing many. He was tinkered with for years in secret after its public shutdown. Augmented specifically to battle the Gravity Surge. Though the project was abandoned when the AI could not be hardcoded as a private assassin due to a fail-safe in the living brain within. According to the recovered files, they’re not the only secret project. The scientist must have activated it as petty revenge when they launched their escape pod. However, since the Techrider used to have a support team to control its outings, it’s now purely running of its own accord there is no way to know when it will appear again…

Beyond that, they say, there’s nothing to be done. They could search for how the scientist made their way into the Prison Fortress in secret, but that could take a while. Their current focus is on getting the city unified again, not only ensuring it’ll be ready to leave when my craft is, but also re-starting construction on the outskirts. The largest empires are glad to be a part of this new direction for the city, out from under the heel of The Executive. However, the return of Techrider has fractured public opinion even further, making what could be simple return to form into a dilemma. There are those who say I am a fake, and oppose the changes based on that, but then there are those who believe I am who I say I am, but also oppose the changes based on that, and all sorts of combinations. I tell the short one that the opinion of the masses is not my concern, and inquire about my craft.

The android rides off on their duocycle as I reform. I am informed that a challenge of some sort has been issued, and that I should follow that robot into the outskirts to battle them. When they begin to explain its motivations, I sprint after it. Steadfastly adhering to its trail, I follow it over rooftops, up and down the sides of buildings. We careen through curved alleyways along the wall. For a moment I lose it down a dead-end, but it bursts forth from a pile of debris and boxes, pinning me against a wall before peeling out, burning rubber across my armor, resuming the chase.

On the outskirts of the city, we reach a large clearing in a landfill of some sort and it slides to a stop. Staring at me, it gets off of its bike and stands still. A few yards away, I end my chase. For a moment, there is a pause to see who will strike first. A breeze floats scraps of paper and dirt around us. Breaking free of the standoff, I leap at it, firmly connecting a punch into its jaw. The machine takes the punch hard, sent rolling head over feet along the ground. It stands up as the dust clears, but asserts no fighting stance. For a brief second I glace at the scattergun in the holster of the duocycle, and am met with an equally powerful punch to the side of my head, flipping me over the bike and into the dirt. I roll into my momentum, and am quickly back on my feet, leaping over the bike to deliver another blow to the android. This time, however, it is not sent flying. It remains perfectly still, and grabs my wrist with one hand, pulling the scattergun out of its holster with the other, and fires both barrels through my chest. I fly backwards, landing in a pile of trash, but quickly rise to my feet.

[Active:: Gravity Sphere]

The heavy swirling orb is expelled from my palm directly towards both of them; the bike speeds out of the way, but the machine stands still, allowing the full force of the impact to land. It remains unmoving as the attack swirls and expresses its power to no avail. As it slows, this machine begins stepping towards me against the pressure of my attack. As it closes in, I fire another Sphere into the first one, exploding it in a burst of energy. I use this opportunity for another attack. With more focus, I am able to do considerably more damage, denting it and pushing it back towards the center of the clearing. We fight blow for blow, deftly scrutinizing power and fighting styles. It may have infinite energy reactors, but I cannot die. I do not let up, keeping it on the back foot until I realize that it is not even attempting to block my assault. It is only when I stop that I notice the bike has been circling us. I dodge as the robot attempts to grab me, but the bike collides with me. I regain my footing, and dodge the bike, but the robot’s attacks land. Again and again and again.

I lay on the ground, broken and unable to focus or gather power as the mechanical foe’s fist strikes my face repeatedly, cracking and busting pieces off of my continually shattering helmet. My healing cannot function if I am being constantly broken. It has no life that I am driven to extinguish. After a few days of this, I concede without knowing what I have lost. With that, the robot gets back on its bike, and drives off.

I am barely able to work on repairs for a full day before I am contacted again. It appears that there is a remaining conglomerate who is physically re-enforcing the boarders of the spire-dome, and they are being met with a fierce counter resistance of a unification of the separations. They are confident that my mere presence will diffuse the situation.

Before long, I am within the underground lab staring at citywide closed-circuit television monitors displaying the encircling riots. As I stare at the continuing carnage, I am asked to incapacitate and de-escalate. I can only envision obliteration, I am only driven to death.

Entering the fray, I snap bones and bend metal from street to street. Those in rags and those in armor, all are broken beneath my power. A simple game, even at my impaired power. The majority run when I appear, but street after street I leave the most voracious fighters on all sides crumpled and unmoving. All with heartbeats. Then. I feel connected once more, my drive towards death that is embodied within my power. They will all perish, no matter by my hand or not. Existence will lead to their death. I become their entropy as their attacks against me increase. Over time the sky begins to darken, and I am ripping people limb from limb lit by a red sunset. I am crushing ribcages in splashes of blood and entrails. I am exploding parties against walls and being covered in their blood. Then.

The riots are over. People are no longer fighting. All is quiet.

I am not contacted again for another week. My craft is much further along than predicted, having been left alone to fix it with the components within the facility, but there is a limit of my technical familiarity with its components, and I have reached it. While I am updated on the progress of the functionality of the city, they sneak in information of its inner social goings on. Corporations, those who praise my presence, those against it, those who doubt or fear me. Having nothing better to do, and envisioning an easy potential towards death, I indulge their self-serving attempts. They will all die, and I will remain.

I make myself a presence within the city, my newly shining armor a beacon of unification, styled after the krokodoplis laboratory. The best progress is to progress off of my planet. Over the next few days the reconglomeration of the outer and inner sectors goes smoothly. I am only able to explode a few skulls, and punch a trivial amount of hearts from their thoracic cavities. The rest of the time is deterring corporate security forces away from outer city residents exploring the new landscape and deterring inner city residents from vying for control of the outer city. Ensuring a natural and benevolent flow, say the tall and short ones. It was all so much simpler before, on Loameria. All of this was thought of, and not a problem. This system causes death, against itself.

Through the guidance of my power, events simmer, and a new address is scheduled. In this time, the tall and short one with their bunch have laid out a plan that conforms to the original blueprints of this scientific terraformer. I am invited up to give words of solidarity towards their departure and safety. As I approach the microphone an engine roars and encompasses the crowd’s attention before the cycle and rider land upon the stage. The robotic figure reveals a large scattergun, discharging it through my armored head before I can focus on what is going on. They deliver their oration as my perforated skull dispels its boiling blood onto the stage.

I walk out of the fiery pile of scrap and death, turning to watch the remains of the scientist’s corpse burn into ash. I charge up a Gravity Sphere and obliterate the remains before I make my way back to the complex. Inside, the new voice is there to welcome me, they say they are the tall and short ones from inside the domed city. One of them explains to me that where they are have given them some insight into my plight. They continue to speak as I walk towards my craft. Their explanations concern their knowledge of the scientists systems, as many of them are used in the city and its underground and are very basic. When it comes to my ship, however, their knowledge wanes. All they can tell me is that there is a neutral command to prevent any action, as if there is a constant “Off” instruction being emitted into it.

I enter the ship, and make my way to the cockpit. I pick up the glass cylinder containing my former skull, rip it from its wires and tubes, and smash it on the ground. Without the preserving fluid, it dissolves into the ether. Lights begin to flicker as the ship lurches and whines. The main console activates, and upon it scrolls “Repair Sequence Initiated.”

The intercom buzzes with excitement, the two helpful beings shout that many monitors and screens have also turned on. They’re receiving a lot of data. Unfortunately one of their first assessments is that the scientist was not lying in one regard, the ship will take three months to repair itself. They continue on about their own problems, often how they tie into mine, such as the importance of getting my ship fixed up and into outer space to find out why my force of density created to protect this solar system began to withhold my powers and disallow egress. However, they also jabber on about nonsense such as the events occurring within the city, talk of vacuums, long descriptions of the histories of multiple groups, organizations, and companies, even including their thoughts of me. I try to focus on fixing my ship, but their garrulous commentary is seemingly unending, and so I ask them to stop as I find no use in it, and would prefer not to hear any of it. They finally cease, only to offer to share this information in person, that I should go to their location in the subterranean lab to monitor the status of repairs from there, as well as the city. I do not understand what benefit that has, and turn down the offer. I state that I will be seeing if there is any way that I can manually speed up repairs to my craft, and to not bother me.

The shorter one then reminds me of what I was told on stage, that the city needs to be able to leave. I ask if there is anything specific that requires my immediate attention, and the answer is no. I tell them to only contact me when the most dire circumstances threaten the progress of the city to attain spaceflight, because when I arrive, there will only be bloodshed. They agree.

I land, spire in hand, inside of the side entryway. Again the scientist’s voice chimes in, telling me to bring the spire to the rear of the complex. I follow down the spine, past the pelvis, and into a large room. There I am told to place the spire into a slot that seems carved to fit it. With a loud hum, it lights up, and begins rotating faster and faster. Quickly it is up to speed.

“Perfect, this should be enough,” a click is heard over the intercom, and a red light is emitted from the contraption, “to destroy you!”

A beam entangles me, locking my movement. Struggling only causes it to fluctuate, throwing me around the room.

“So stupid! I could not have asked for a more idiotic test subject! With your data from this experiment in my possession, I’ll finally be able to figure out the source of your powers! I’ll be able to replicate them! Or, at least, transfer them to myself. You did kill my first experiment, after all. My bird of prey, sadly only used as a bodyguard.”

“… Kill… you…” I mutter through a jaw clenched shut.

“Yes, yes, I’m sure you will, should you ever find me, or, survive this.” Another button is pressed, and the beam intensifies. Electromagnetism begins to tear my atoms apart, nuclear forces explode apart the inside of my nuclei, inside my atoms, splitting them within themselves. “There must be more to you than mere gravity, and I will prove it here and now, by subtracting your intrinsic field, disintegrating your very self.” Then, with a final burst of light, I am gone…

“I… I’ve done it! Look at these readings! Exactly as I… hmm, that’s peculiar…”

Bolts of electricity fire across the lab, and I am reborn again. I quickly destroy the machine.

“You fool, you… anomaly! My life’s work, ruined, all for nothing! I’ve dedicated my entire life to understanding the very concepts and fields that bind the universe together, and all of it, ruined by some freak in an armored suit!”

“So are you ready to die now?”

“Never, I can fix this data! I can, I can–” The scientist is cut off by another voice.

“Grav, we’re in the sub level of the penthouse! This scientist wants to destroy you, replicate your powers! We can see you from here, but you need to hurry, they’ve activated an escape pod in the tail!”

I run past the destroyed machine, through the narrow hallways before I begin to plow through the walls slowing me down. I make it to the end, and am engulfed in flames from an afterburner. As the smoke clears, I see its trail, and fly off after it. I catch it in mid-air, and rip off the canopy. I grab the scientist by the collar, and stare them dead in the eyes. I use my powers to redirect the escape jet to turn around, and aim it towards the ground. I see the panic set in. They beg for their lives, their research, they do not want to die in vain. The ground is ever approaching. They offer nothing. The ground is bathed in fire and wreckage.