F.O.X. and John have just made it past the southern border, and are now officially in the United States after a creative encounter with the border agents. In a move that went better than anticipated, F.O.X. was able to hack the government’s database and replicate an identification document with their crafting kit. John was updated to be a VIP in their systems, and F.O.X. was registered as their vehicle. The Xyfokit had done an exceptional job at transforming their paws into wheels, and was able to create the unique design after John introduced them to some popular movies about robot aliens transforming themselves into vehicles to blend in amongst human society.
John mused over the fact that human creativity had apparently predicted an actual functionality of robotic aliens, and was equally thrilled when he got to respond to the border agents with the classic line “It’s classified” for his visit. While the agents initially stopped him and his confident behaviour, he was quickly let through when one of their superiors confirmed the validity of the information John presented. All things considered, it was both enjoyable and nerve wracking for the human, but was just another step in their journey for survival. And, as a reward, he made sure to grab one of the juiciest hamburgers he could find from a sketchy highway stop along their journey. The fatty meal was rewarding, and John seriously wished F.O.X. could have sampled the delicacy with him as well.
However, their journey was interrupted briefly, when a mysterious call was received by F.O.X. while they were on the highway, leaving the impromptu stop.
Sensing the peculiarities and urgencies with which the request for communication was being made, F.O.X. calmly pulled over to the side of the road to answer the message safely. John then hops out from his chariot, and the Xinos transforms back into their canine form before hitting “accept”.
Some dials whirl and spin around across F.O.X.’s monitors, and the machine projects a hologram near the dirt road for John to view. The crackling sound of static then assaults John’s ears, and the connection finally forms into the image of something beyond John’s wildest imaginations.
Augmented and displayed above the ground, is the image of... Something, to the human’s poor eyes. It appears to be a shape of some sort, with what is potentially a monitor or two, but the angles and folds from which it’s created are hurting John’s eyes. Faces are rotating and folding into other physical planes, yet no collisions occur. Parts and vertices are wobbly in places, and as John continues starting, his head begins to throb and pulse. After a few moments, he gently rubs the temples along the sides of his head for some relief.
John then glances over at F.O.X., wondering how they are comprehending the alien visage before them, and notices their mechanical jaw hanging loose. Their monitors also appear widened, and he finally hears his companion utter “Emperor Xylophos!!!”
“Emperor?!?” John gasps while still trying to make sense of the oddly rotating shapes before him. There is a brief pause, and the hologram eventually rumbles “Former emperor, dear Xyfokit, and I’m glad to personally make your acquaintance.”
F.O.X. then lowers their head near the ground, and some of the strange angles on the hologram perform a waving motion. “I appreciate the notion, F.O.X., but time is of the essence, and please, I do not deserve such respect. I am simply Xylophos now.”
John continues looking at the screen, and the image appears to shift at an unnatural angle before him. The being appears to pause, then the speakers on the device buzz and crackle. “My apologies, human John, I will correct and observe my state to be in the 3rd dimension for ease of your comprehension.”
The physics breaking shape then wobbles some more, with angles and folds collapsing into one another, until they eventually form into the crisp image of a 3-dimensional polygon. It’s not a shape John recognizes, but his mind is no longer pulsing with contempt so he appreciates.... Whatever it is this “Xylophos” has just done. “Wait wait wait.” John then quickly utters while continuing to stare at the shape. “Just to be clear, you’re the previous emperor of the Xinos?”
“As previously established by F.O.X. during my introduction, yes.” They once again rumble in a charismatic tone, before gesturing to a series of screens nearby. “And, moving on, I am contacting you two to share some dire news regarding our tournament.
The shape then pauses and turns towards John. The polygon then forms what appears to be fingers along their front face and taps them together before continuing. “For you John, the survival of your planet.
...
Earth, is in danger, and one of our Xinos warriors is seeking to activate a secret military project from your government. It is a bomb that will crack your planet in half, and its activation is almost guaranteed should you not intervene.”
F.O.X. and John both share glances amongst each other over the frightening news. John’s pulse quickens after hearing the information his planet is in danger, and F.O.X. eventually responds to the emperor’s words. “But... Aren’t we prohibited from destroying the battleground world, Xylophos? Why... Why would a Xinos wish to...”
Some of the faces along Xylophos image then angle in on themselves slightly, and their response echoes in a shorter beep. “Because... The council has decided, they wish to restart the succession games...
...
F.O.X.... By no fault of your own, this was a decision arrived at by the other higher-ranking members, and it all began when you managed to defeat G.O.R. in round α.
...
Our battle royales, are not the proving grounds our warriors believe them to be. G.O.R. was intended to be our next emperor, an outcome already decided well before the games even began. However, your continued victories and bond with John have interrupted the council’s plans after their initial setback. It was no coincidence you were constantly being targeted by our most powerful warriors, yet each and every time you continued to survive.”
F.O.X.’s ears pin back, and their tail tucks from Xylophos’ words. Their limbs then start to shake, and John can feel sensations of fear and doubt building within from their connection. John then moves beside F.O.X. and places their hand across their monitor. The machine’s shaking stops for a brief moment, and John eventually interrupts the rambling shape.
“So, because F.O.X. wasn’t killed like you wanted, your council is going to blow up my entire planet?” John says in a heavy tone. Xylophos pauses, then corrects the human on the misunderstanding “My wants have always been for a fair succession match. Yet, and it brings me great shame to admit, my council was more corrupt than I could have ever imagined.
Everything we’ve stood for as Xinos, was a lie, and I cannot apologise enough for the unnecessary harm that will soon befall your planet, John.
...
F.O.X. and John, you are the only two that can achieve this task, you are the only warriors, that can stop this Xinos. Earth should not be destroyed because of my failures as an emperor, and I am ashamed there is nothing I can do to correct this fault on my own.”
...
A deafening silence then fills the void of their conversation, and John’s mind begins to wander. Memories resurface within his thoughts, and he remembers thinking back to the day the Xinos first began their battles outside his apartment building. He seriously thought the world was ending then, and now, it apparently will end unless he stops it.
John stares at the ground and tightly curls his fingers together forming a fist. His nails dig deep into his skin, and the human seriously wonders why they are the only option this “emperor” has contacted. “I’m just a human...” John then utters in a quiet tone, before looking up to stare at the shape in the hologram. “If you’re their former emperor, couldn’t you just... Delete the rogue Xinos warrior? Why do you need our help...”
The human’s comments cause a brief pause, to which Xylophos clarifies “While it’s true we delete the consciousness of the defeated warriors, that is simply their backup from which warriors would be restored. As sentient, autonomous beings, we have never installed the usage of “kill switches” like you’re implying. Each Xinos is unique, and our species has never had a reason to implement such contingencies.”
John looks at F.O.X. for any signs of confirmation, and the intelligence slowly nods at the emperor’s words. He personally finds the notion odd that an advanced species of synthetic aliens wasn’t better managed, but eventually decides to drop the subject.
F.O.X.’s monitors then light up across they head, and their claws tense, digging into the soft earth. They then look at John, before locking their gaze with Xylophos. Their network is in disarray, with their decision trees conflicted over how they should respond. F.O.X.’s core throbs within their frame, and their monitors light up in an array of blues and reds to communicate their decision.
“John is important to me.” F.O.X. beeps in a resolute tone, their speakers humming with resolve as they correct their stance. “And, if his planet is in danger, I will protect it! It’s not just about my survival, but everyone’s survival. I don’t want Earth to be destroyed.”
The corners along Xylophos’ monitors briefly tilt in a gesture John interprets as a smile. A staticky tone then rumbles against John’s skull, and he taps his right ear. The buzzing bounces around, and F.O.X.’s ears swivel, as another caller joins their conversation with frantic urgency.
“F.O.X., JOHN!! I have an urgent—”
The voice then abruptly stops their report, and A.N.T.’s visage soon materializes beside Xylophos in the call. The general’s jaw gapes open, and their speaker’s bellow “Emperor Xylophos!!”
The polygon connected in the call briefly tilts their faces down, shaking them slightly and responds “Former emperor, and yes, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance again, A.N.T.”
“But!” A.N.T. sharply beeps, while correcting their stance into a formal salute. “Pardon my intrusion, but I have an urgent update to relay to F.O.X. and John regarding—”
“Project Sundial?” Xylophos responds in a sly tone, while gesturing to a screen beside them. A.N.T.’s salute then briefly faulters from the Xinos gesture, and they tilt their own display to showcase a similar monitor also containing details about the classified military project. “But!” A.N.T. quickly starts again, prompting Xylophos to intervene. “Councillors are not meant to interfere in our succession games?” The calmly beep, before continuing. “I understand your concerns A.N.T., In my previous conversations with you before this cycles battle royale, I was adamant I would never interfere. However, I could not in good conscious sit idle, when our species could lose something truly valuable.”
A.N.T. reaffirms their salute, then relaxes their posture to speak to the group. “It appears, we are of a similar process, Xylophos. I too, wish to avoid the destruction of this planet. The council’s conclusion is wrong, and I have already resolved myself to defy their plans. L.I.Z. is only acting under orders, but they are orders that should have never happened.”
“That said, it will not be easy for us to eliminate L.I.Z. Time is of the essence, and with the current round still active, I—”
F.O.X. & A.N.T. then briefly pause, as a message indicating the end of round δ scrolls by their monitors, and a timer signifying the start of the non-combat days begins ticking down. John’s nanomachines notify him of the update, and his heart sinks at the implications. Supplementary popups notify him that hard light technology will unlock at the start of the next round, but the group remains silent. John taps his foot at the cruel information, mulling over the complexities that have just presented themselves, and is the first to break the deafening silence blanketing the group.
“So... We need to kill an enemy Xinos... When we can’t even use our weapons...” John quietly mumbles to the group. F.O.X.’s gaze then drifts towards the ground, and they all begin to wonder how they can eliminate L.I.Z. based on this new information. “It seems your council at least planned this to some extent, Xylophos.” John offers, trying to form a smile, but the gesture is awkward nonetheless. “Will they attempt to activate it during this non-combat period? I know that’s something I would do if, if I was hypothetically trying to blow up the planet within your battle royale restrictions.”
None of the machines respond to the gamer’s words, and John seriously considers the world will be ending at this rate. F.O.X.’s ears are still pinned back, and the funny looking polygon on the call still hasn’t replied to his comments either. Eventually, A.N.T. is the first to respond, pulling up some additional screens.
“It’s a long shot, but, I might be able to utilize one of my own plans to eliminate their bonded partner.” A.N.T. then enlarges on the call an image showing detailed pictures of Aton, including callouts linking them to be a member of the lizardmen race. John’s eyes widen at the information. He bites his lip, then exclaims to the group. “Wait... He’s a lizardman?!?” This causes the machines to turn their attention towards the human. His face has grown several shades paler, and F.O.X. is the first to respond. “You... You didn’t know the lizardmen were real...?”
“Of course I didn’t know!” Exclaims John, as his head begins to spin. He remembers some of the silly alien conspiracy theory documentaries he had watched for fun, even enjoying them for how unrealistic the idea seemed. His eyes twitch, and he tries to laugh through his next set of words, but his own voice gets caught in his throat during the process. “Next... You’re probably gonna tell me that Greys are a thing as well...”
F.O.X. and A.N.T. both cock their monitors at his words. F.O.X.’s speakers then begin to articulate a response, and John simply slouches onto the ground, holding and shaking his head. “And let me guess... The Queen of England was actually a werewolf as well?”
F.O.X. simply directs their monitors towards John with a saddened tilt. The corners along their mouth curling slightly to form a response, but they ultimately beep nothing. John then simply throws his hands in the air, amazed that each and every conspiracy theory was apparently grounded in reality, and sighs. “And aliens obviously built our pyramids as well then, I get it.”
“Actually, those were built by the humans. It is one of your true technological marvels as a species, given the era they were constructed.” Xylophos adds, but the comment doesn’t help John’s now shattered understanding of Earth’s history. A.N.T. then decides to refocus their conversation, since the deviation had started to wander a bit too far from the more important objective at hand.
“Re-Regardless.” A.N.T. stutters briefly, while still continuing to observe John rambling about other lesser-known creatures like the sasquatch and bigfoot, and figures he shouldn’t enlighten them about their existence either. “Just like in our initial confrontation, John, I can circumvent the non-combat days through the usage of my ants to destroy external objects that happen to be transporting or housing an enemy target. Your apartment building was one of such implementations of this strategy.”
“I still haven’t forgiven you for that by the way.” John scoffs, and finally stands on his feet again, shaking his head. “But, even if you can destroy a structure, I seriously doubt your ants could collapse a building in a matter of days.”
Stolen novel; please report.
The lights across A.N.T.’s monitors gleam at the thought of the challenge, and John’s face once again grows pale. “Perhaps not a building... But a plane would work just as well.” The general rumbles, as they bring up Aton’s meeting schedule for the week, indicating they will be flying to New York from Europe for an important meeting at the United Nations Headquarters. “I have already sent a platoon of my scouts to the airport Aton will be using. They will infiltrate the craft, and disable critical navigation systems while it is over the Atlantic Ocean. The failures will result in the plane crashing into the water’s surface, killing all aboard. Some innocents will be caught in the assassination, but it is for the greater good, John.”
John feels sick to his stomach at the thought more people will have to die because of the Xinos. He has never had to weigh the lives of billions of humans before in his hands, and begins to feel nauseous over the thought A.N.T.’s proposal is the logical choice. John watches the hologram produce a replica plane, charting and modeling the projected path. “Sacrifice a few, to save the world.” John exhales, his lungs struggling against the weight of the words he just uttered.
“It has to happen.” A.N.T. beeps in a precise, short tone, and Xylophos adds “I understand your concerns, John, but I also agree with A.N.T.’s plan. It’s not the best solution, but it’s one that will work within our given constraints.”
John is hesitant to agree to the machine, but internally, he knows what they are saying is accurate. The world was in danger, and things had progressed well beyond a typical battle royale for the human. One month ago, he could have never imagined his life would transform into helping alien robots compete in a battle royale, let alone saving the world. A part of him wants to run and ignore the responsibility. After all, what did he personally owe to the world? Humans weren’t exactly the best of species at times, so would the universe really miss them if they disappeared forever?
...
“I understand.” John says with a spark burning behind his eyes. His heart is pounding against his chest, and he still isn’t sure this is the correct decision. But, at the same time, a part of him has always wanted to play the role of a hero, even if the world wouldn’t know about his accomplishments in the end. What mattered to John, was he had the ability to make a difference, and with F.O.X.’s help, anything seemed possible in his eyes.
F.O.X. feels a surge of confidence swelling withing them, and their tail begins to wag. For once, their monitors didn’t need to look into John’s eyes, for their neurons had already received and transformed the information received from their bond. Individually, the machine felt they were similar to John, and, when they worked together, even the toughest of mountains became scalable objects.
“A.N.T.” F.O.X. beeps to the group while entering into their “sit” mode. “While I have confidence in your capabilities, you plan was also thwarted by a bonded Xinos. If for whatever reason your plan fails, John and I should already be stationed at the military base to intervene. We will assume your success, but plan for the worst.”
“I agree.” John adds to his companion’s words, his voice strong and resolute. “The stakes are too high, and we should have multiple prongs in the oven, so to speak.”
A.N.T. and Xylophos both nod at the duo, and the general then confirms the finer details of their upcoming plan. A.N.T. uploads a copy of the Area 51 Military base map, along with footage of the secure area’s entrance. They were unable to retrieve files relating specifically to the base’s underground research facility, since the data wasn’t actually stored on a connected network, and were only going off of the recorded footage from their deceased scout. Xylophos then confirms this is the extent of the information the Xinos council is aware of as well, and F.O.X. and John record what information they can.
Over the next several days, they will make their way on foot to Las Vegas, utilizing F.O.X. as an efficient mode of transportation. On arrival, they will continue scouting and identify possible points of entry. The group also decides that hacking John’s identity into the military’s systems wouldn’t work, since Aton’s position in the government probably already had some safeguards in place for their upcoming visit. If anything, they would need to utilize other means, such as stealth to enter.
Once the plan is confirmed, F.O.X. ends the call and the group heads out, with the machine remaining in their canine form. The intelligence updates their navigational system, which confirms it will take them approximately 5 days to reach the famous city in the desert, and John sighs. He then tries to remind himself that their role is only as a contingency plan should A.N.T. fail in their assassination attempt. Yet, his gut is churning, and he’s already beginning to dread the implications of what that means. John figures it was either his hamburger from earlier, a plausibility considering the level of grease and quality of the meat, or, an unfortunate prediction for the coming future. “I seriously hope it’s the burger.” John utters while rubbing his stomach, leaving F.O.X. tilting their head over the strange rumbling sounds loudly emanating from the human’s stomach.
...
...
...
A sharp, brisk wind blows across the tarmac of the Brussels Airport in Belgium. The runway is ominously clear today, despite the wonderfully clear skies for flying and aerial transportation. As it would seem, the concreates only inhabitants are a selective few and highly guarded government planes, and their crews. A heavily guarded black van then enters the runway, followed by a smaller entourage of equally armed vehicles. They zip across the smooth surface with finite precision, coming to a gentle stop outside a set of stairs for directly boarding the metallic birds.
Several men in black suits, shades, and white ear pieces promptly file out of their armored trucks, then open the door for their passenger. A man spotting wavy black hair, aviator shades and a suit then leaves the vehicle, briefly nods towards the guards, then continues and boards the plane. A.N.T.’s scouts identify the man as a possible match to Aton, and the general on the other end of the monitor smiles. A.N.T. then updates their instructions to the infiltrators already aboard the craft, then patiently waits for the plane to begin its preflight checks.
The pilots aboard the sophisticated and heavily reinforced airliner turn some nobs and answer some calls from the main control tower. Their destination is New York, and all of their systems and checks come back positive. Dispatch then confirms they may proceed on the runway, and the craft’s tiny wheels orient the metal behemoth down the designated strip.
The jet’s engines then roar to life, as the fuel within churns their turbines to produce a powerful propulsion force forward. The craft begins accelerating down the tarmac with ease, shaking ever so slightly from some crosswinds, but remains firm on its path. The metal bird continues building speed down the runway, and, once the machines within indicate sufficient velocity has been reached, the pilot pulls back on their stick, angling the plane’s nose upwards. Sufficient lift has been achieved, and the craft’s wheels break free from the tangible concrete below. The aviation marvel defies gravity’s will to return to the earthy surface, and continues reaching higher and higher towards the skies. The wheels then retract within the main column, as the pilots climb the craft to its designated altitude for the trip.
The plane then banks to the side, its gyroscopes and alignment sensors happily displaying the plane’s spatial position to the pilots, who confirm no adjustments are required for the craft. Cruising altitude is then reached shortly after, and the pilots confidently flip the switch to enable automatic navigation and flight. With their job done for now, they both continue to monitor the vast array of buttons and nobs before them, with one of the pilots taking out a book to help pass the time. It will be another long 8 hours until their destination is finally reached, and there will be boringly little action required on their part.
...
A.N.T.’s soldiers patiently wait within the metallic beast, calmly nestled between the fuselage and cockpit for their upcoming missions. The diligent insects have already located the circuits and wiring they will need to tamper with, and are currently on standby while the plane gets into position over the Atlantic Ocean. There were a couple of methods the Xinos had mulled over for how to destroy the craft, with multiple options being suitable. They could disable the turbines and stabilizers, or even separate one of the massive wings entirely, but the general ultimately decided on the following plan of action.
Once the plane was in position, their soldiers would sever the wires connecting the main system controls to the navigation, steering, and alarm modules. The general would then instruct their insects to make precise changes to the circuit board directly, modifying the logic gates at precise locations to feed the craft false information about its altitude and engine performance. Others would then make modifications to the engine’s output, causing the place to gradually lose speed and lift. The changes would be gradual, so the passengers and crew wouldn’t notice, and, once sufficient lift was lost, it would crash into the ocean below. The pilots would only become aware of this information once the craft was already in freefall, making salvaging the situation almost impossible.
A.N.T. patiently tabs their mandibles together as they wait for all the pieces of their plan to fall into place. They could have chosen to taking a simplier route for destruction, but wanted limit the ability for their prey to respond to changing information. A sudden failure could potentially be countered by the bonded Xinos with Aton, and the general wanted to ensure they employed a method that couldn’t be detected easily.
A.N.T.’s network then pauses, before flashing into an expansive array of trees and forests. While reviewing their plan, their neurons hung on the single datapoint relating to Aton’s bonded Xinos, prompting them to quickly review their intelligence. Their monitors spring into action, snapping to the various feeds from their soldiers deployed on the mission. They replay some of the captured footage from the tarmac, and their screens widen when they observe only a single human boarding the craft. “There should have been two of them.” A.N.T. grumbles in a low tone, before flipping their feed to some of the insects in the crew’s cabin. The machine updates their instructions to the small force, and the tiny creatures spring into action for their updated assignment.
The ants race across the carpet, finding some hooks along one of the doors and scale the interior metal. The reach the top of the fuselage, then begin traveling through the entire length of the craft to locate any and all passengers. The man from earlier is quickly located, and the live video feed confirms they are alone. A.N.T. then flips through various feeds and layers for signs of Xyninium or Xinos identifiers, but is unable to locate anything. A chill runs down their frame, and the general zooms their lens in on the human. They are calmly enjoying a glass of whisky, while scrolling through their phone, and the general slams their desk after performing some cursory scans on the target. The machine’s report then comes into focus across their monitors, opening along the side with the biological signals and retinal scans, and their network pauses after analysing the information.
It’s not Aton.
The person currently being transported on the plane is a human that looks remarkably similar to Aton, but it isn’t a lizardman. Every meticulous detail, down to well crafted mask has been replicated with exceptional detail, yet their sensitive heat signatures failed to match against Aton’s previously recorded values in A.N.T.’s database. The intelligence then realizes, the being currently flying on this aircraft, is a doppelganger.
A.N.T frantically reviews and scours their resources again. They had collected mounds of data before initiating this plan, and they were positive everything had been accounted for. They then begin recollecting and confirming their records, and some alerts notify them to some changes recently made in the government database for highly classified employees.
Aton’s name, service record, along with any and all information about his existence, have been deleted. It is as if the person never existed at all, and the intelligence realizes, this is probably the work of L.I.Z. “How could I have been so careless.” A.N.T. chastises themself for failing to account for the obvious. If L.I.Z. had already noticed one of their scouts from earlier, then the machine certainly would have taken appropriate counter measures to ensure Aton’s safety. Furthermore, the Xinos council had omnipotent vision over the battle royale, as each visual feed for the warriors could be actively monitored. A.N.T.’s was the sole exception, at least, that they were aware of, but F.O.X.’s feed would have still remained active as a valid contender. “Our plan was never secure.” The beep in a defeated tone, as they turn their attention towards the communication device on their desk.
A.N.T.’s network throbs over their failure, tightly gripping their core from their oversight. It was an obvious mistake, yet they were confident in their own capabilities to successfully complete their end of the plan. But, as the intelligence continued to reflect on their actions, it appeared their enemy was already one step ahead of them. They needed to contact F.O.X. and relay the unfortunate information as soon as possible. Their target, is missing, and they are unable to locate them, even after utilizing their vast network of operatives spread across the globe. A.N.T. then taps their hologram, prompting the device to initiate their call. The device buzzes and rings for an anxiously long minute, and the general sighs again at their failures. Then, once their hologram’s connection is secured, they unfortunately share the news with their contacts, eagerly waiting on the other end of the line.
“F.O.X., Aton, is missing. And, I have failed.”
...
...
...
Aton watches from the back of a mining shuttle as it travels along the rails of one of the lizardmen’s underground networks. Since landing on the planet, his species has worked on digging an excessive array of tunnels. They have always been at home within the ground, and, while Aton has come to enjoy traveling on the surface, begrudgingly agreed to L.I.Z.’s suggestion on taking the lizardmen tunnels instead.
Aton’s eyes begin to drift at the lackluster scenery. He has been forced to stare at nothing but rocks and the occasional cavern pocket for several hours now, and he simply wants the ride to be over. Aton then rolls his head to the side, staring at the driver beside him and asks “Are we there yet?”
“No, Aton.” L.I.Z. replies in a short beep while continuing to maintain adequate force on the “forward” button for the contraption. “We still have several more hours until we reach the North American continent.”
“Believe me, I am well aware.” Aton chimes while letting out an exasperated sigh to the machine. “But, did we really need to travel this way? I was rather looking forward to my last flight in one of the human’s primitive aircrafts.”
“I could not guarantee your safety if you did, Aton.” L.I.Z. grumbles, as their monitors observe the lizard fidgeting with their lighter, repeatedly flicking the top open. “We were being watched, and I estimated you were most vulnerable while in flight for your meeting. There was a high probability of sabotage, and I have also taken the initiative and canceled all of your future appointments.”
“Of course you did.” Aton grumbles while putting his lighter away to pull out his phone. He taps the screen, sees the “No Signal” notification in the top corner, and rolls his eyes. He then puts the phone back into his pocket, pulling out the lighter instead. “And to even cancel my stay in Vegas... The world is ending for crying out loud, and you would seriously rob me of the opportunity to go gambling on the strip for the final moments?!?! Just think about the women, L.I.Z.! They’re some of the best company I’ve ever had on the surface!! All the other lizardmen have already left for andromeda, and I’m not even allowed to have a little fun before ending it all?!?”
L.I.Z. rolls their monitors over their human’s “rant”, as Aton continues delving deeper into the joys he will be missing, and the machine focuses their network on their objective instead. This was the correct option, as losing Aton at this critical moment would make activating the bomb incredibly difficult for the intelligence. The battle royale was almost complete, and if they failed here, the council would never forgive L.I.Z.’s race in the empire.
“Whatever.” The annoyed lizard grumbles before turning to face away from the Xinos. “Just... Wake me up when we get there.”
...
The shuttle continues its journey with ease, and L.I.Z. smirks when they receive an update from the sensor placed on Aton’s doppelganger flying to New York. The device had detected trace amounts of Xyninium on the craft, and had even identified radiation profiles matching ants similar to the specimen L.I.Z. crushed during the previous round. “Such an obvious ploy.” They muse, as the shuttle gradually comes to a stop, just outside some heavily reinforced walls.
It's an old entrance, one actually built by the lizardmen during the military base’s initial construction, but was removed when they grey aliens actively started working with the humans on classified research projects. While the lizardmen were still involved to some extent at the time, they couldn’t be bothered with ensuring an alternative access point remained viable.
Breaching the wall however, will take some time, and L.I.Z. grumbles over the fact they still don’t have access to their hard light weapon systems. A powerful concentrated beam of light from their cannons would make quick work of the 60ft carbyne walls surrounding the main research bay of the underground base. They were already at the nearest access point to reach where Sundial was currently being stored, saving them the descending trip from the surface. However, with the limited remaining supplies Aton had, and, the inability to craft such a boring device themselves, they we stuck between a rock and a hard place.
L.I.Z. then nudges Aton awake and he grumbles at being woken from his nap. The machine then updates Aton on its plan, and he rolls his eyes at the annoying setback. The lizardmen, while the most technologically advanced aliens on Earth, besides the Xinos of course, also haven’t developed an appropriate level of boring technology. While there were powerful mining lasers back home, the only tools brought with this particular group of lizards, was enough to make an elaborate web of their own tunnels, and not penetrate multiple dense layers of one of the universe’s sturdiest materials.
“And, I suppose my spacecraft wouldn’t suffice.” Aton says, as he walks towards the wall and kicks it with his foot. “Its engine would be able to produce enough output, even if we crafted an appropriate lens with crystals formed near the mantle...”
L.I.Z. brings their claw to rest underneath their chin. Crafting their own boring laser could have been an option. But, as they continued looking at the countdown timer until the start of the next round, it would simply be more efficient for them to wait until the next round began, then use their own unlocked systems to quickly breach the reinforced exterior. This was their safest option, after all, and the machine then walks over to the abandoned lizardmen supply station, reactivating the lodging.
Aton grumbles again, as he walks into the cramped retreat. He had always hated staying in these emergency resupply stations. The food was constantly stale and lacked any flavour, the bedding was practically non-existent, and there was a tragic absence of anything fun to drink...
Aton then loosens and removes his suit, throwing the elaborate coat on the ground, then collapses face first into the rock pillows. “What a horribly, uneventful way to spend my last days on Earth.” He mumbles into the rocks, before turning to stare at some of the mold growing along the walls and ceiling.
L.I.Z. then joins beside Aton, entering into a power saving mode while reviewing their data. It will be 3 days until the next round begins, and when it does, they will finally fulfil their purpose for the Xinos Council.
