F.O.X. has just lost their communication feed with John, after a swarm of ants seemingly burst out from the ground and kidnapped him before their shared connection was severed. F.O.X.’s neurons frantically fire and ping the connected nanomachines, but all of their sockets are beginning to close at an alarming rate. Their network extrapolates that countermeasures have been deployed, and the poor Xyfokit, is powerless to stop them.
“JOHN!!!” the machine cries out in several sharp and high-pitched tones, as their visual feed freezes on the pixels of ants swarming over John’s eyes. F.O.X. manages to send one final message to the struggling nanomachines, signaling they should enter into a state of life preservation for their host, but they never receive a response confirming request acknowledged. F.O.X.’s monitors open, charting a course towards John’s last known coordinates, as they force extra Xytrolyte into their limbs for more acceleration. It is clear to the intelligence, that John, has been captured, and the most likely culprit, is a Xinos.
F.O.X. racks their memory stores to find any kind of answer as to how this happened. All of their scouting attempts with John failed to identify any nearby Xinos, yet somehow, one was closer than they could have ever imagined.
The machine replays the last recorded images of John’s capture over and over again, analysing and filtering the video in various ways to explore additional avenues for information. Cross-referencing ant behaviour against what was currently observed with John, leads them to the conclusion that such coordinated acts are currently impossible for the tiny insects. F.O.X. figures a Xinos is probably manipulating the insects, and their visual records have finally returned a positive ID result from one of the ant culprits.
F.O.X.’s CNN expands, enhancing the image of an ant awkwardly crawling across John’s eye. Sections then enlarge around a portion of the creature’s thorax, before shifting to the ultraviolet spectrum to reveal a mixture of proteins. The image rotates and zooms in on the chemical blend, while an accompanying analysis confirms a 100% match to the ants observed in John’s apartment. Minor lacerations across other sections of the ant’s thorax are then cross-examined and confirmed to be an exact match to a specific ant the machine’s monitors happened to record while watching John stream a Fork Knife battle.
These two ants are the same, and after another report positively identifies trace amounts of Xyninium across the species, the machine remembers they had noticed this observation earlier, but seemingly shoved it into a background process. “How could I have been so stupid.” F.O.X. beeps while continuing to charge towards John’s building. “The Xinos is going to use John as a hostage, and, when I get close enough, kill him to trigger the bond breaking penalty!”
F.O.X.’s network then explodes into a forest of decision trees, with each branch and leaf arriving at various cruel, yet necessary conclusions for the machine. F.O.X.’s systems falter, as the Xyfokit continually chooses to reject the only logical solution its self preservation systems continue proposing to the poor intelligence. “No, I… I won’t sever our bond!” F.O.X. blares out into the wilderness as they continue bounding through the forests to John’s home.
Severing their bond, was the only logical solution to this problem. That would free the machine from the harsh bond breaking penalties, vastly improving their odds of survival in the coming battle round. Yet, completing such an action would guarantee their humans death. F.O.X.’s network displays several odds for the intelligence, all of which seem to be indicating that John will die regardless of which action they take, meaning they should just sever their connection. But, as much as the machine wants to agree with their network, some portion of their core continues to tug their processors to seek out different resolutions. “No. There must be another solution.” F.O.X. beeps in a powerful tone, having finally entered the field where John helped them turn the odds against a previously impossible foe for the Xyfokit.
John’s apartment finally comes into view of the machine, as they gracefully weave between crashed vehicles and emergency response personal. They are still being cloaked from most onlookers, and F.O.X. quickly begins scanning the scene with their sensors.
Despite being closer to John’s last known location, they still are unable to pickup any signal from their nanobots, or their innate connection with the human. Something is obscuring their signals, leaving the machine blind.
F.O.X. bounds over to the hole from which the ants emerged from. Investigation crews have already blocked off the scene with an excessive amount of yellow tape, so the machine quietly leaps onto the collapsed building to observe the abyss from above. Scans return that the soil was hastily dug, and, upon further scrutiny, seem to be indicating a vast array of tunnels exist below the city. The intelligence continues mulling over the information they are collecting, while looking at the ticking clock in the corner of their vision. “12 hours until the round begins…” F.O.X. growls, while tensing their blades for claws.
Their systems continue prompting the intelligence to sever their bond with John, but F.O.X. grits their metallic teeth at the horrid suggestion, declining it once again. The capture of John was clearly a trap, and yet, the machine’s gritted teeth slowly transition into a grin, as their neurons finally propose a solution to the Xyfokit they agree with. “12 hours is plenty of time.” They chirp, with their speakers hovering on the cusp of acceptance for the upcoming challenge. If a Xinos thought they could use John against them, then F.O.X. would just have to show them how much they’ve learned about being a true warrior.
…
…
A.N.T. calmly observes the endless orderly rows of their soldiers before them. They have called a meeting with their army, or, at least, as many as could fit inside the generous hallway, and will be briefing them on the coming battle royale round. Each of the tiny and loyal insects have formed orderly columns for battalions, with larger warriors assigned to each for coordination. It is a sea of perfection to the decorated general, as they stand at attention, offering a proper salute to the army below.
All of the ants, then attempt their own version of a salute back to the Xinos, well, as best they could with their inefficient yet powerful limbs. The pheromones, while essentially perfected, still left the creatures unable to change how their bodies were initially designed to bend. Regardless, a sharp gleam pulses through A.N.T.’s array of monitors, as memories of their time as a commander in the grand Xinos army flood their neurons. The Formicidae, while not a Xinos in their own right, possessed all of the qualities of A.N.T.’s soldiers from lightyears away, that they couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride at their accomplishments. These creatures should have been the apex predators, they thought, as a small trickle of Xytrolyte leaks out from their monitor’s corner. Then, after wiping their screens, A.N.T. ends their salute and dismisses the soldiers.
“10 minutes until the round begins.” A.N.T. hums, as they head down the expansive dirt tunnels their warriors have constructed. Their next stop, is the prisoner’s quarters, where they intend to eliminate one of the captive Xinos to complete their 1 mandatory elimination quota when the round begins. During their march, soldiers continue to pass by their general in an orderly fashion. Their footsteps are quick, yet efficient, as most of A.N.T.’s army starts assembling into position at their respective breaching marks. Once the round begins, A.N.T. will unleash their horde on the civilians above. Their goal, is to locate F.O.X. as quickly as possible, and eliminate them.
A.N.T. pauses briefly before formally entering the prisoner’s area. Reviewing their battleplan, they were originally going to eliminate F.O.X. by executing John to trigger the breaking penalty. However, after speaking with the human themself, A.N.T. has decided to instead fight F.O.X. directly with only their army. If the Xyfokit has truly learned how to be a commendable warrior, they want to see it in action.
Arriving at the prisoner’s cell marked with a simple “X”, A.N.T. pauses as they gently place one of their limbs across their identifier etched into the wall. “L.Y.N.” They quietly beep, as the cat-like robotic Xinos stares back into A.N.T.’s monitors. L.Y.N.’s monitors flash through several screens of whites and blues as they struggle to produce any sort of audio output. They pull their limbs, and attempt to bite with their powerful enhanced fangs, but all the requests to move return “fail”.
“That’s alright.” Whoops A.N.T. to the now flailing captive, causing L.Y.N.’s ears to pin back, and their tiny tail appendage to lower. “Stand proud, L.Y.N. While your consciousness is about to end here, know your death serves the glorious Xinos empire. I will remember your sacrifice, and commend you for your loyal service to our cause.”
A.N.T. then snaps their Xyninium mandibles together, causing sparks to dance and flicker around the sharpened edges. L.Y.N. continues trying to struggle against their captor. They angle their monitors down, and see their central core has already been exposed, and the Xinos warrior in front of them, is slowly approaching. Xytrolyte leaks along the corner of the machine’s eyes, as their weapon and mobility systems frantically try to activate. They didn’t want things to end like this. They were a Xygrasfel, and had always served the army for the betterment of the empire.
Yet, the machine wonders how their death here, can truly be said to have bettered the Xinos empire? Their death, would have been better off in the fields of war, dying in conflict to achieve some grand objective. But here, dying as a sacrifice, this was not a death that would warm their logic reward gates. L.Y.N. rattles their frame, forcing excess Xytrolyte wherever they can, while warnings continue blaring at the machine internally.
Claws somehow managed to unsheathe from L.Y.N.’s paws, a miracle given the powerful suppressants flowing through them. They have been unable to secure even a single kill during the battle royale, and these claws, would help them get their first! A glimmer of hope flashes throughout their network, filling the machine’s frame with warmth. However, L.Y.N.’s monitors suddenly widen in agony from a surge of “critical errors” across their systems.
[Round γ – Star—] Briefly flickers across the stuttering screens, as the machine feels excruciating pressure being applied to its core. Errors are rapidly piling up, causing their memory stores to overflow, as more and more systems collapse after each other from the crushing impact. Why couldn’t they have been a better Xinos? Why did their existence have to be erased? They didn’t want true death, so why?!?!
L.Y.N.’s network continues flashing, firing electrons into every section of their neural network, but the responses are getting weaker. Their branches and trees are dying, with each vibrant line across their impressive forest snuffing out from a loss of power. Their energy levels drop below critical, as darkness continues to grow along their monitors. Then, just before the last bits of light leave their core and frame, L.Y.N.’s network freezes after processing their last, and final thought.
Round γ, was our doctrine, a lie...?
...
A.N.T. removes their mandibles from crushing L.Y.N.’s core, and flicks them to remove some of the blue Xytrolyte dripping off the blades. They have just delivered a clean death to the valiant soldier before them, securing at minimum, the ability to remain a valid contender in the coming rounds.
The emperor selection system, or, more commonly known as the Xinos Battle Royale Succession Doctrine, was very particular about its wording. In a sense, it was easy to assume that the minimum 1 kill requirement would apply to only valid participating Xinos. However, all that was simply required after a careful read, was the successful elimination of another Xinos warrior. Nowhere in the passage, did it say the Xinos eliminated needed to still be a valid contender in their games. Regardless, A.N.T. still needed to take some precautions once this ruling was clarified by the higher-ranking Xinos council.
Connected to their military systems, the checks and balances only worked on Xinos with a functioning identifier, their name after it was reassigned in the battle royale. By carefully removing such an identifier from their captive’s central cores, A.N.T. would be able to bypass the end of round elimination check, while still maintaining sacrifices for future rounds. Their prisoners would suffer excruciating pain in the process, but their suffering did not matter to the general. Nothing, was achieved without sacrifice, and these Xinos soldiers, would be the stepping stones needed for their race to achieve perfection.
“Rest well, L.Y.N.” The general whoops in a low droning tone, as they finish wiping the excess Xytrolyte from their dripping mandibles. Then, turning around, A.N.T. calmly walks towards the nearby cell currently housing John. The machine locks eyes with the captive human, before unlocking the cell and motioning for John to follow them. John nods, and simply joins behind the robotic ant.
“You’re really going to do this? Fight F.O.X. in an honorable battle?” The human finally speaks to the general, as hordes of their soldiers continue to pass by the duo in an orderly fashion. A.N.T. maintains their proper stance while briefly looking over their shoulder to respond. “That I do. I am confident in my battle experience, having lived through several of my species’ wars. F.O.X., on the other hand, was a unit only recently constructed, and possessed only poor qualities in my professional opinion. Thus, I will be the judge to see if your words are true.”
“And... I still won’t be able to assist F.O.X., correct? You purely wish to see their own capabilities?” John says, making sure to confirm the terms he and the Xinos had come to earlier during his interrogation. “Correct.” Hums A.N.T. while turning a corner to enter into a larger holding room.
Stepping inside, John sees various screens and monitors displaying a plethora of information. Most of the screens appear to be detailed maps of the surrounding area, while others are from the perspective of potentially individual ants under the Xinos control. Most of the text and graphics are difficult for John to parse, but his attention is drawn back towards the Xinos, as they beep a series of sharp tones towards him. “As agreed, you will serve the role of “damsel in distress”, as requested, leaving F.O.X. to their own intuition to find and rescue you.”
“Perfect.” Replies John with a cocky grin, as he continues observing all of the technical marvels. “I’m confident F.O.X. will surpass your expectations. So, don’t come crying to me once you’ve been eliminated. You’ve been warned, A.N.T.”
The machine’s monitors lock with John. A small grin grows across their facial display, as the intelligence claps its mandibles together twice in quick succession. “You truly are an amusing human...” They quietly hum, while motioning towards a chair for the human to sit on. John follows the cue, and a small accompaniment of ants bring him a Xyninium glass filled with water, along with some smaller electronic devices. John picks up the screen-like device, which reminds him much of a typical tablet, and pokes a few of the displays. The screen beeps and hums, as several surveillance cameras come to life on the device, providing John a real-time glimpse of the battle royale currently raging across the globe.
Images of an elephant leaping with grace while launching artillery shells cover a corner of the screen, while an additional perspective reveals the opponent to be a rhinoceros of some sort pinned down from the barrage. The rhino launches some missiles, which were apparently disguised as their horns, which accelerate towards their attacker. Small notifications indicate the weapons are Xytrolyte seeking, and currently locked on to the grey behemoth. The elephant pivots using its powerful robotic hind legs, dodging the missiles while switching its cannons to a rapid-fire setting.
The rockets turn, having missed their mark, and attempt to recalibrate and acquire their target again, but are quickly shot out of the air from a barrage of bullets. The elephant, to John’s disbelief, then performs a backflip, sailing over the rhino that had attempted to ram it with their blades. Then, while still in the air, the tusked monster fires a precise high-caliber round through the charging Xinos core.
The rhino erupts in a fury of sparks from the disabling impact, as more missiles fly out from its body in retaliation. Unfazed by their prey’s last attempt to dispatch them, the elephant calmly shoots a simple red laser beam at each of the rockets, disabling them. The now harmless projectiles simply fall to the ground, embedding slightly in the dusty terrain, as the rhino’s body finally explodes into a pile of flames and metal.
“Impressive.” John says, as their eyes continue to dart between the various battles happening around the planet. “I would be able to do a lot with this intelligence, A.N.T.”
“I’m sure you could.” Replies the general in a precise whirl. “My intelligence gathering, is absolute. The Formicidae super colony in the continent known as Europe, has just come under my control. I have eyes across the globe, and tabs on each and every participating Xinos warrior. Nothing is beyond my reach.”
John whistles lightly at the machine’s comments, as he continues swiping through various screens and data points. His brain is starting to make sense of the mass amounts of information, which he’s hoping might be related to either the nanomachines, or his bond with F.O.X.
Finally, John’s eyes find a section of interest to the game, a small tab with the characters “Mark” scrawled across. John taps the area, which changes his view to reveal a Xinos he immediately assumes is cheating. “A.N.T...” John says with a sigh while rolling his eyes. “A Tyrannosaurus Rex? You... I thought you said your species could only take on the visage of presently living animals...”
A.N.T. attempts to smile towards the astute human, before prompting some of the nearby ants to tap some additional buttons across the tablet. The view briefly expands to the entire globe, before narrowing and zooming in on the arctic regions, way to the north of John’s home. “Correct, John.” The machine quietly hums as sensors and graphs bring into focus a large reptilian specimen encased in ice.
“North America, as you humans would call it, used to be home to this marvel of a predator. And, while almost all of the species was wiped out in a global catastrophe, there are a few surviving pairs preserved in the planet’s arctic caps. Our scans revealed they are still biologically alive, thus making them a valid selection for our warriors.”
“Huh.” John says while scratching his chin. Apparently, dinosaurs weren’t all extinct on Earth, and, all it took was a highly advanced race of aliens to expose this fact to the intrigued gamer. John’s leg bounces up and down at the idea these ancient monstrosities are apparently still real, while his heart races within his chest.
The view then switches back to the Xinos shaped like a T. Rex, aptly given the identifier T.Y.R., and, on their back, John spots another human riding along. They appear to be a younger child or teen with spiked brown hair, and are wielding a paintball gun, firing shots while the T. Rex continues chasing down a Xinos shaped like a wolf. An identifier labeled “Jake Valkin.” Hovers near the human, along with an accompanying Xinos compatibility scan reading 40%. “Damn...” John utters with a heavy breath, as he continues watching the lumbering giant weave through the forest with grace.
Rocket launchers then unfold along the dinosaur’s side, firing missiles towards the sleek and slender grey wolf. The ears along their metallic frame twitch and swivel, as they leap to the side to dodge the initial volley. Then, while still in the air, the wolf aims a cannon nestled along their spine towards their assailant, firing a counter volley of their own. T.Y.R. lowers their head, charging into the barrage, as the shells impact and fly off their metallic frame harmlessly. The wolf’s ears pin back, as their monitors lock on to the impervious beast still barreling towards them. Blades extend from their paws, and the canine attempts one final stand against their assailant quickly closing the distance.
T.Y.R.’s monitors gleam, as fire erupts from inside their mouth towards the cornered canine. The Xinos attempts to dodge some of the flames, but the intense heat manages to melt some of their metal. Charging forward, the wolf slashes at the dinosaur’s shoulder, aiming for the human nestled along their back. Sparks fly from the metal’s brutal impact, but they stop just short of reaching the human.
*Pop*Pop*Pop!*
3 quick volleys leave the chambers of Jake’s paintball gun, as the coloured pellets spatter across the wolf’s monitors in a vibrant array of blues and pinks. The machine tries to disengage, leaping back, but is caught by T.Y.R.’s powerful jaws. T.Y.R. slams the robotic wolf into the ground, causing most of their limbs to crumple from the excessive force. Sparks and blue fluid begin leaking out from the canine’s metallic frame, as T.Y.R. slowly approaches the dying Xinos. The whirring sound of chainsaws come to life through the tablet’s speakers, as an army of blades along the dinosaur’s tail begin spinning at an impressive velocity. Then, ensuring a clean and efficient kill, T.Y.R. whips their tail forward, slamming the rotating blades into the wolf’s core.
Sparks and metal dance across the tablet’s display, with blue fluid accenting the ensuing carnage. T.Y.R.’s tail continues digging deeper and deeper into the struggling canine, as it tries to prime and aim one final round at their killer. A pulsing glow begins to gather around their cannon before suddenly dissipating, as the last remaining bits of light leave their monitors forever.
The human riding atop the dinosaur, erupts into a series of cheers and screams while firing several more volleys of paint into the defeated warrior. Then, they kick their feet along the side of the machine, pointing northward. T.Y.R. nods at their human, as the duo continues forward, disappearing into the forests.
John’s heart sinks at the scene. He had always assumed that humans would have a difficult time adapting to literal life-or-death scenarios, but it appears to the gamer, that he was the only one having difficulties, or, so it would seem.
Finally, John taps a few more buttons and menus, and the camera shifts to settle on an orange and sleek Xinos. “F.O.X....” John utters with a heavy breath, as they gently place their fingers across the image of the metallic canine. He is slightly surprised the ants have already located their bonded companion. But, upon closer inspection, John can’t help but form a toothy grin with a light laugh, as the orange Xinos continues checking over some tiny metallic cubes near their paws.
John lifts his gaze to land on A.N.T., who has taken the time to seat themselves across from him. He’s unable to hide the grin, prompting the machine to calmly tap their bladed insect legs together. John knows what plan F.O.X. has probably decided on, as he continues observing the machine making tiny modifications to the Xyninium cubes.
“Your bond and battle royale strategies, John. How will they compare to the glory of the Xinos empire’s might? Will they surpass our knowledge and capabilities, honed through literal galaxy lifetimes? Or, will they crumble under the might of my soldiers?” Beeps A.N.T. in a solemn tone.
Fully accepting the grin growing across their face, John’s eyes sparkle, as they lock with the towering ant’s monitors with resolve. John has done all he can for now, and, all that remains for the captured human, is for them to believe in their partner’s capabilities. The plan is risky, but John believes if any of the machines can pull it off, then F.O.X. will be the one to do it. With his eyes burning with resolve, John continues staring at the machine, before stating his final words to his captor.
“Game on, A.N.T., and, may the best player win!”
...
...
...
F.O.X. has just finished checking their upcoming plan for the billionth time. After racking their memory stores and combining them with John’s suit of battle royale strategies, the intelligence has devised a plan that is sure to make their bonded human proud. They had 12 hours to prepare for the underground assault, and, while subterrain combat was not their chosen species speciality, feel no hesitation as the timer continues ticking down to the start of the round.
In the forests to the north, F.O.X. has finally finished mapping the extensive underground network. Most of the tunnels appear to be rather large, while others are more compact, perfectly designed for tiny ants to travel along for scouting. F.O.X.’s sensors have also picked up several of the nearby ants laced with Xyninium, indicating to the intelligence they are probably being observed. They could destroy the ants and attempt to conceal their actions, but the machine wants John’s captor to believe they are unaware, and simply ignores them.
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F.O.X. lightly digs at the dirt below their paws, carefully carving out a tiny hole in the earth, then neatly places the last remaining explosive charge inside. The machine hastily covers the dirt, as the message they had been anticipating finally scrolls across their monitors.
[Round γ – Start!]
The intelligence tenses their claws, while their sensors scan the horizon. They have only just completed the initial setup for their assault, and still need to get into the proper position for the rescue mission. Beeps and hums rattle throughout the machine, as they turn their attention towards the upcoming reveal scan. F.O.X.’s neurons instantly fire electrons in response to the data received, forcing excess power into their powerful hind legs.
*BOOM*
The explosion shakes their stabilizers, but F.O.X. quickly compensates and sticks their landing, aggressively digging their claws into the dirt to regain their balance. Their cannon unfolds, and they unleash a volley of bullets towards their assailant.
The pellets collide with the nearby trees and boulders, with some of them impacting with the seemingly invisible air, causing a masked shape to wobble across their monitors. F.O.X. switches their monitors to a different spectrum of light, and quickly locks on to the canine predator attempting to eliminate them. Warning triangles flood their screen, as another barrage of bullets happily sail towards the Xyfokit to greet them. F.O.X. dashes and weaves between the various impacts, as sparks and explosions dance around their paws.
Charging ahead, F.O.X. unsheathes their vibroblades, and locks them with the claws of the assailant. Sparks fly and dance in the air from the repeated impacts, until both warriors disengage, leaping back to reassess their quarry.
“W.O.L....” Growls F.O.X. towards the predator who had been seemingly stalking them before the round had even begun, as their claws continue to dig deeper into the soil below them.
The grey canine drops their cloaking field from the failed ambush, their monitors gleaming off of the sun’s blinding rays, while offering a toothy smile to the Xyfokit having survived their initial assault. “F.O.X....” The machine growls back in an equally annoyed series of tones and beeps.
“I don’t have time for this!” F.O.X. roars at the Xinos that would dare interfere with its plans. “My human, is in danger, and I have no desire to engage in combat with you.”
W.O.L. grins, as they respond in a series of low-pitches whirls to the combatant. “And? You assume that’s your decision to make?”
W.O.L.’s systems briefly faulter after uttering its response to the Xyfokit towering over it. Their network had predicted they would be an easy kill, and yet, after stating its response as such, instantly regretted the decision to rattle the warrior. W.O.L.’s core tightens, and several notifications and prompts issue warnings to the machine, all of them suggesting they should leave this opponent.
Now.
W.O.L. has never experienced this sensation before. They’ve always been able to meet each and every opponent on the field of battle with pride. Yet, looking at the Xinos before them, their limbs are shaking, their stabilizers faulting from the sheer pressure being radiated towards them. Their tail appendage slowly tucks itself beneath their frame, and their ears swivel to pin back against their skull. Why is the Xyfokit making their network feel like this?!? How are they—
“W.O.L.” F.O.X. once again growls to the now cowering canine, while retracting their claws and cannon. “If you truly wish to fight me, to see which of us is the stronger Xinos, then seek me out in the next round. My priority, is finding John, and I won’t hesitate to eliminate you if you stand in my way!”
The grey wolf holsters its weapons, as its limbs gradually remember how to function. Tightness releases from their core, and their systems finally have a moment of relief from the frantic messages bombarding their self preservation systems. If they had continued their confrontation, their systems are now certain they would have been eliminated.
W.O.L. looks up and scans the horizon with their monitors. The orange Xinos has suddenly vanished from their receptors, leaving deep claw marks within the soft earth. The machine shakes their head lightly, refocusing their network, and orienting themselves north. There was still another signature nearby, T.Y.R., and the Xinos figures, that is their next best target to eliminate in this round.
...
...
F.O.X. bounds through the forest, heading south towards where their sensors have indicated an optimal infiltration path for the machine. They are running slightly behind schedule after having to dissuade another Xinos from combat, but everything is still within their plan’s parameters. Arriving at their location, F.O.X. removes several of their compressed Xyninium cubes, and etches into them the appropriate commands for their upcoming mission.
The cubes expand and morph, their form wobbling and changing like a freely flowing fluid near F.O.X.’s paws. The shapes continue rotating, melding, until finally settling on a miniaturized form which vaguely resembles their Xyfokit crafter. F.O.X.’s monitors light up, with the symbols “^.^” scrolling across their screens in satisfaction. They have just successfully crafted their scouting drones, and the intelligence has finally finished its preparations to unleash them on the ants below. F.O.X. then glances at the corner of their peripherals, paying careful attention to a ticking timer in the bottom-right of their HUD. Their explosive charges will go off in 30 minutes, and the tiny machines will have a lot of work to do in the mean time.
Suddenly, the earth below the Xyfokit begins to shift and stir, prompting a small grin to barely expose their metallic teeth. “Right on cue.” Chirps the intelligence, as they release their mini army of fox drones down the rupturing void in the earth.
The wheels along the tiny fox drones spin into action, catapulting the micromachines forward, as they charge into the roadways opening up before them. The drones fly over and crush some of the ants along their journey, before splitting up at various forks in the tunnels. Tiny headlamps come to life in the darkened hallways, as each of the drones begins mapping and shooting tiny bullets into the horde of incoming ant soldiers.
A few of the soldiers lunge at the miniscule army of tanks, tripping and catching the wheels by tightly interlocking their limbs to create a web-like net of ants. Some of the fox tanks veer off to the side, their wheels jamming against the crushed insect bodies, hindering their axel’s rotational energy transfer. Explosions ring out through the caverns, as more and more of the tanks smash into the tunnel’s walls, exploding into sharp Xyninium shrapnel. While their armed assault force is quickly depleting, most of the fox drones have broken away from the ant pack, forcing most of the insects to give chase to the tunnel invaders.
F.O.X. opens and reviews their system map being filled in from the fox drones below them. Their view is becoming increasingly granular, and the short pulsing waves the tanks are emitting have finally helped narrow down the machines future path. “Come on little drones! You can do it!” They cheer on to the tanks below, as the intelligence continues observing and recording the data being transmitted back to them in real time.
“There!” F.O.X. whirls, jumping slightly in the air after finally finding the data point they were looking for. Their map is now complete, and the echolocations measuring room densities have just determined John’s most likely holding place. A large chamber then comes into view across F.O.X.’s monitors, as one of the fox drones bursts into the room. Their screens quickly record and transmit multiple cells for housing prisoners, and they’re full.
F.O.X.’s jaw drops as their monitors process the seemingly cruel scene before them. Bound and shackled inside each of the cells, appears to be multiple Xinos warriors. Each of the helpless combatants has their central cores exposed, and appear to be in a state of suspended animation. “How horrible...” F.O.X. quietly beeps at the scene, as the drone observes several cells with crushed and dismantled Xinos bodies. Then, just as the tank is about to turn the nearby corner.
*SMASH*
F.O.X. loses their visual feed with the fox drone, freezing on what appears to be a giant ant limb crushing the tiny scouting vehicle. F.O.X. tenses their claws again, below looking towards the wide-open hole before them. They have all the data they need, now, they just need to execute their plan. “Don’t think, just do!” They beep to themselves, as they dash into the tunnels, heading towards the larger chamber.
The fox drones continue racing through the ant tunnels, drawing more and more of the soldiers with them. Each of the drones is leading them into position just past where their explosive charges have been placed above ground. Wheels continue roaring throughout the tunnels, as more and more ants collect behind the drones trying to intercept and destroy the intruders. F.O.X. pulls up their internal map, tracking each of the drones as they move past the expected points. They are trying to spread out the Xinos forces, and, once they have crossed most of the main critical arteries, intend to detonate the charges above to collapse the tunnels and isolate most of the ants. The seconds continue to tick by, as more and more of the drones have finally made it to their destinations.
F.O.X. scampers through the tunnels, their claws raking and scraping against the dirt walls in order to build traction. They have come across barely any ants heading towards the central chambers, prompting the machine to let out an exasperated whoop. The final drone has just reached its destination, and, after observing the last of the charging ants cross the estimated boundary, F.O.X. hits “detonate” on their remote charges.
*BOOM!*
A fierce echo rocks the caverns, as the wall near F.O.X. shake from the violent impact from above. Dust blankets their monitors, but the machine keeps running, activating their screen wipers to restore their visual accuracy. The Xyfokit’s connection with the drones fails, the machines lost in the collapsing corridors, but it was all according to plan. The ants are now cutoff from the main chambers, and the only way into the deemed prisoner’s quarters, is from the original tunnel F.O.X. entered through. The machine continues running, picking up speed while balancing its Xytrolyte load across its systems. F.O.X. checks their weapon systems, with each cannon and blade returning “TRUE” for functional. Their objective is near, they will rescue John!
F.O.X. bursts into the chamber, shielding themselves with an enlarged Xyninium cube while scanning the vicinity for the assailant that destroyed their scouting drone. Their monitors dart from corner to corner, but fail to find any hostile Xinos nearby.
F.O.X. then carefully skulks around the room, keeping the cube deployed while activating their cloaking field to scout away from the protective metal. They sensors continue pulsing and scanning for threats, but they appear to be in the clear.
“Kill... Me...” F.O.X.’s ears twitch after picking up the faint beeping noises from a nearby Xinos. They prime their cannons and angle themselves towards the low-droning tone. F.O.X. skulks into position, just outside the prisoner’s cell. Along the wall, they see etched into the jagged rocks the letters B.E.A.
F.O.X. carefully peeks their monitors around the corner, cannon drawn at the ready. The machine cocks the chamber to their firearm, priming the armor-piercing round. However, they calmly holster their weapons when they observe the Xinos trapped inside the cell. Convulsing on the dirt floor, is a smaller rodent-like Xinos. They have unfortunately come loose from their shackles, which were apparently keeping the warrior in a state of suspended animation, and are now flailing about on their broken limbs. Their metallic frame is bent and torn, and their central core has been mostly crushed and tarnished from what looks like a crude and painful surgery. Xytrolyte is leaking from most of their joints, and the light in their monitors is fading, with a barely visible pulse gleaming throughout the brown lens.
F.O.X. looks at the wall, taking note of the letters etched into the hard exterior, as their sensors scan the rest of the cell for clues. It appears this Xinos has been held here for quite some time, and in the corner, they notice a crushed object which their sensors recognise as a standard Xinos identifier. Their neurons run several simulations, and return the most probable scenario. It appears to the machine, that this warrior was captured, then, had their identifier brutally stripped from their core, then was left to suffer in this cell. The Xyfokits decision trees then go on to predict that each of the captive Xinos, are probably being held until the start of each round, to ensure they can be eliminated to achieve the necessary kill quotas.
F.O.X. looks at the struggling machine below them, the light has almost completely faded from the monitors by this point. This isn’t how a Xinos warrior should perish. They are machines meant to die in the fields of war, and experiencing true death in this manner send a dark chill down their metallic spine. The Xinos looks up into F.O.X.’s eyes, their screens pleading with the intelligence to end them.
F.O.X. stares at the dying warrior below them, drowning in a pool of their own Xytrolyte. Images and memories surface within the machine of their time back in the forest, before they met John. The Xyfokit remembers the cold embrace of darkness as it closed in along their monitors. Their frame shakes slightly upon remembering the experience, and they can only imagine the being before them, is suffering just as much as they did at that time. Know what they need to do, the intelligence draws their cannon, while cocking and priming a single round in the chambers, before aiming it at the dying warriors exposed core.
“Rest well, B.E.A., may your conscious know, you did your best as a Xinos warrior.”
...
*Pao*
The single bullet roars out of the chambers, bringing with it the sweet release of death to the dying warrior. Their core shatters from the impact, and a brief smile forms along the corners of B.E.A.’s monitors, before the light within extinguishes for good. Small specs of Xytrolyte begin pooling in the corner of F.O.X.’s monitors, before leaking onto the warrior below them.
[Kill Confirmed.] Scrolls across their monitor, signaling to the intelligence they have successfully made another elimination in the deadly tournament.
F.O.X. tenses their claws, stores their cannon, then continues examining the room in full. The rest of their scans have failed to find John, which they were predicting would be held in this chamber, so they will have to keep searching the tunnels for their human. They leap to each of the holding cells, counting a total of 15 captive Xinos still alive. Their core tightly grips their chest after passing each of the warriors by. All of them appear to be suffering, and the tiny machine grits their teeth, as they make the choice to release all of them from the pointless agony. Single precise shots ring out through the halls, and, after the last Xinos captive has been slain, F.O.X. continues their journey deeper into the hideout with heavy limbs. Images of each and every one of the Xinos they killed in the chambers etch themselves into their monitors, as the intelligence vows to eliminate their captor.
F.O.X. carefully continues through the caverns, their headlamps diligently illuminating the darkened hallways, while their limbs produce nary a sound from their enhanced stealth capabilities. The round has been active for at least 2 hours now, and they are pleased to see John still hasn’t been executed, at least according to their still functioning bond. They are aware they could easily be walking straight into a trap, but the desire to rescue their human, to see his smiling face and laughter which warmed their circuits is driving them forward. Their ears twitch at the slightest sound, as it feels like entire sections of the cavern are following and watching them.
Scans reveal nothing behind the dense earthy walls, so the machine continues skulking down the passageways, until eventually, they arrive at another open chamber. The room appears to be one meant for giving speeches, as inferred by the raised podium at the back of the hall, as they carefully enter the room with weapons drawn. The intelligence finds it weird that a Xinos would potentially deliver a speech to ants of all things. They continue walking through the chamber, before stopping roughly in the middle.
The ground begins shaking underneath F.O.X.’s paws, while their gyroscope detects a shift in the machine’s footing. The ground below them is collapsing, and the intelligence quickly leaps to the side while expanding a single sheet of Xyninium to cover themselves.
*SMASH*CRUNCH*
The impervious metal snaps like butter, as F.O.X. reorients themselves in the air to fire a round towards their assailant. The bullet rips out of the cannon’s chambers at an impressive muzzle velocity, but ricochets of the attacker, deflecting into the dirt walls. F.O.X. sticks their landing, before swapping their cannon to the armor piercing rounds. Dust obscures the initial ambush location, and their scanners are failing to detect any nearby Xinos. A 2nd revealing scan then occurs to the machine, and their network sighs in relief, ready to analyse the scan in full. Luck appeared to be on their side, since they were finally going to learn the identifier and location of their mysterious assailant.
The radar pulses and hums, the scanning line lighting up F.O.X.’s name in the small room as it passes by, and yet, no other Xinos identifiers appear across the device. The Xyfokit’s network freezes briefly, as its processors fail to arrive at any sort of conclusion that could explain this phenomenon. Why was the radar scanner failing to detect the nearby Xinos? They... Were fighting another Xinos... Weren’t they?
F.O.X.’s network pulse increases, as all of the contingencies and plans they had spent formulating this assault come under scrutiny from this new source of information. They want to run. They’ve made some miscalculation, and need to reevaluate their strategy. “No.” The machine beeps in a sharp tone, realigning their processors to their true goal at hand. “Whatever this is, I will face it head on.” They rumble to the hall, as their monitors continue scanning the shifting floor.
“Impressive, little warrior.” Bellows a tone throughout the chambers, yet F.O.X. remains strong in their stance. “It appears the human John was speaking the truth. Now, face me in battle, pup!”
F.O.X. shifts their stance, calculating another incoming attack from below. The machine quickly tosses some of their Xyninium cubes on the ground, while leaping back to gain some distance. Another hairline crack races towards their feet, before erupting in an array of boulders and bullets. F.O.X. deploys another Xyninium wall, intercepting the rounds which relentlessly pummel the impervious metal. Puncture marks begin to form across the sheet, yet the alloy thankfully holds against the continued assault. The Xyfokit then detects the intruder attempting to burrow again, but quickly activates the tossed cubes from earlier, expanding them to completely cover the dirt floor.
A loud crash subsequently floods the chambers, shaking F.O.X.’s audio processors to their core, as they carefully look through a thin slit in the metal barrier to finally observe their attacker. Standing on the metal sheets, at roughly the size of a car, is a Xinos that looks like an ant to the intelligence. Their carapace is covered in thick plating, and their mandibles and legs are armed with rotating Xyninium blades. Along their arms, or, at least, one of their limbs, is a single, well-maintained pistol drawn towards the shielded Xyfokit.
“Where’s John?!?” Bellows F.O.X.’s speakers, their output louder than usual to the weird assailant. “Wouldn’t you like to know, young warrior?” Comes the insect’s reply in a harsh tone. “What’s your identifier?!?! Are... Are you the one responsible... For...?”
“Yes, little Xyfokit.” Rumbles the Xinos before F.O.X., as they slowly start to strafe around the shielded warrior. “I have captured your human, and, should you wish to rescue them, must end my existence! My identifier is A.N.T., and your journey, ends here!”
F.O.X.’s sensors begin sifting through their plans, while they dash along the chambers to increase the spacing between the two. They’ve at least disabled the warrior’s ability to burrow under the dirt, but their network estimates that is only a limited portion of their arsenal. Their monitors briefly lock with the ceiling, noticing some of the loose stones above, prompting their network to confirm their upcoming actions. Single, precise shots ring out as A.N.T. accurately fires rounds into the Xyfokit leaping along the walls and floor. F.O.X. manages to block most of the rounds aimed at their core, but sustains some light damage to the rear mobility systems from failed attempts.
Pain stings their neurons, as the machine powers through the sensation to put their plan into action. F.O.X. continues weaving, before expanding a large plate of Xyninium closer to A.N.T. and closing the distance. The Xyfokit then detaches one of their limbs, placing it within a Xyninium chamber, and fires it at the ceiling. The block of metal seamlessly imbeds itself in the rocks without issue, while F.O.X. clashes with A.N.T. in close quarters combat. A.N.T. gracefully deflects all of the Xyfokit’s blows with their mandibles, while offering counter thrusts with their limbs.
F.O.X. continues slashing at the Xinos warrior, expanding and retracting Xyninium plates to block and interfere with A.N.T.’s movement. A gleam of light courses throughout A.N.T.’s monitors, as they continue dodging and countering with their own precise slashes. Their limbs stumble several times against the unexpected changes in terrain, but their network is pulsing with warmth from the riveting and satisfying battle. It has been a long time since the soldier has enjoyed themselves on the field of battle, and, the Xyfokit before them, is unrecognizable to the general based on the dossier they had studied. Their movements are fluid and precise, and despite sustaining sever damage, is refusing to give up any ground from the repeated slashes and stabs.
A sharp grin grows across A.N.T.’s facial display, as they lunge forward. F.O.X. flinches from the unexpected action, just narrowly locking their claws with the mandibles crushing might. A.N.T. forces more pressure into their blades, the end is near, and they only need to push just a little harder.
The metal along F.O.X.’s claws begin to chip, crack and bend from the powerful crunching force they are somehow withstanding. They are continuing to manipulate the Xyninium plates near A.N.T., but are struggling against the mountain of pressure currently crushing their paws. The machine’s ears pin back, as their stance falters, losing their balance slightly, causing some wirings to snap from the change in force.
One of their claw blades then shatters into pieces, flying off in a series of splinter projectiles, embedding themselves in the nearby wall behind them. F.O.X.’s monitors widen at the sudden pain pulsing through their neurons, before ultimately settling on a toothy grin.
“DIE XYFOKIT!” Roars the general with all their might, as they force another burst of energy into their mandibles, fully crushing F.O.X.’s paw in the process. “Not today, A.N.T.! I won’t be deleted!” Retorts the sleek orange canine, while shifting their frame slightly to dodge the rotating mandibles. Their movements aren’t perfect, sustaining some damage near their shoulder blade, but F.O.X. manages to create just enough distance from the monstrous ant.
Now out of the impact zone, F.O.X. forces a powerful current through their Xyninium chamber embedded in the ceiling directly above A.N.T. with the help of their detached paw. The metal expands into a long cylinder, with their vibroblade claw primed in the centre, rapidly spinning around in anticipating for its debut entrance. Electrons hum and zip around the superconductor metal, freely flowing without resistance, creating a powerful cascading magnetic field from the lack of resistance. Then, with the fields aligned, F.O.X. releases their suspended vibroblade, launching it at a speed of Mach 7 towards the Xinos below, creating a powerful, improvised railgun.
A.N.T. staggers after failing to end the nimble warrior, as their network returns several errors after repeated attempts to move some of their limbs. The general scoffs at the array of failures, before looking down and around them. The monitors suddenly widen, as each of the multiple sensors scan and identify they are encased in a restraining structure of Xyninium. The metal bends and wraps around most of their carapace, and their legs have somehow been placed into shackles restricting their movements. How could they fail to notice such a development?!? Was this truly the Xyfokit’s doing?!? Their network recalls them whole heartedly enjoying the battle, and arrives at the conclusion they must have missed this development while trading blows with the nimble Xinos.
The general then turns their attention towards the ceiling, after sensing a powerful magnetic field forming above them. Their neurons erratically fire at what their monitors are forced to process, while they struggle to move their body from the incoming barrage of warning triangles. Straight above them, is a rapidly rotating vibroblade, the same ones warned about in their dossier on the Xyfokit, and it now approaching them at over 2,500 meters per second. Time slows for the general, as their network rapidly formulates an array of options before them. All of the potential solutions have an abysmal survival rate, but the Xinos doesn’t feel regret ending up in this situation. John, was right, and it appeared to the Xinos warrior, that this particular human, really was what their species needed all along. An inferior creation, proving one of the most advanced machines in the universe, wrong.
Images flash though A.N.T.’s network, and the machine is left wondering, when did the Xyninium got embedded in the ceiling above? And, for how long have they been playing into their enemy’s hands? These thoughts wouldn’t matter in the end, but they did leave A.N.T. pleased at the performance personally observed in their battle. However, they wouldn’t simply let things end like this!
A.N.T. forces extra fluid into the abdomen, rupturing the chamber while catapulting their thorax and upper body forward. Their limbs are bent, but ultimately freed from their prison, just narrowly avoiding the supersonic impact of F.O.X.’s vibroblade. A.N.T. detaches one of their limbs to stabilize their rotational velocity. They are now hurling towards the Xyfokit, and have managed to angle their mandibles to align with their prey’s central core.
F.O.X.’s visual processors chirp and alert them to a sudden change in pressure within their opponent’s body. Their vibroblade is just about to impact with the horrid Xinos, but their sensors are screaming at the machine to quickly arm themselves. The intelligence faulters, fumbling with some of their spare Xyninium, as their network extrapolates a series of incoming blades aimed at their central core. They quickly expand and mold the metal into the shape of their paws, and extend their blades to intercept the attack. They brace themselves for the pending impact, and sincerely hope their counter defense will make it in time.
A.N.T. continues flying towards F.O.X. with uncanny precision. It’s unconventional they have been reduced to such a position, but history is both written and remembered by the victors, so they have no qualms over how they achieve their victory. The ends justify the means, and they are positive their last ditched attack will secure their survival. Their head is moments from impact, but their prey has somehow managed to quickly meld another limb to defend themselves. The machine forces more power into their mandibles in response, making sure they have enough strength to pierce their opponent’s core from a single impact.
Their head collides with F.O.X., sending both of them tumbling into the podium at the back of the hall. Splinters fly through the air, and, just before A.N.T. can finally pierce their opponent’s core, a simple message scrolls across their monitor, halting them in their tracks.
[Round γ – Complete – Now Starting Designated Non-Combat Days – All Hostile Actions From The Remaining 6,982 Xinos Warriors Are Hereby Prohibited.]
Pain courses throughout A.N.T.’s core, as the current within pulses with erratic contempt. They had been so close to finally finishing a thrilling battle. However, a sharp chill then floods their network, as their monitor snaps to F.O.X.’s lens. The machine’s screens are emitting a cold and piercing gaze, burrowing deep within A.N.T.’s network. The Xyfokit is battered and crumpled from their encounter, but yet, the machine’s face isn’t filled with sorrow, but an emotionless, calculating stare, seemingly piercing their very core, with their gaze locked below them.
A.N.T. follows the machine’s gaze, and they finally begin processing the endless array of warnings blaring across their preservation systems. Lightly embedded within their own central core, is a thin, metallic blade from F.O.X.’s paw, whereas their own mandibles stopped mere millimetres short of piercing the Xyfokits in turn. Xytrolyte meekly leaks out from their core, as the intelligence’s network floods the machine with a conclusion they didn’t want to accept.
They had lost, and F.O.X., had won.
The end of round message saved their existence, and they’re certain, that if it had come just a moment later, their consciousness would have been deleted from F.O.X. formally piercing their core, and ending their distinguished life.
A.N.T. scoffs at the tragic amount of luck that saved them from death, as F.O.X. releases their blade embedded within the Xinos core. The general falls to the floor, their body crumpling from the impact, as they roll themselves over to view the victor from their now lower vantage point.
“Where’s John.” Rumbles the Xyfokit in a tone causing A.N.T. to shake ever so slightly from the intensity they received. The general simply stares back at the towering machine, partially in awe over how much the warrior has grown, confidently surpassing all of their expectations for fellow Xinos warriors.
“They should be... Heading here.” A.N.T. utters through a cracking speaker system, as the sound of footsteps echoing through the tunnels fills the deafening silence in the battered room.
F.O.X.’s ears twitch at the sound they identify, and their tail appendage suddenly begins to wag from side to side, as a peculiar, yet familiar human, bursts into the room surrounded by an accompanying army of ants.
