“Well, I think that should do it.” John says while taking a bite out of a hamburger he picked up for lunch while waiting for the next battle royale round to begin. A chilling autumn breeze continues to brush against the human’s face, as F.O.X. bounds onwards as his chariot towards a recently abandoned town due to the Xinos global battle antics. The temperature and scenery are enough to remind the gamer turned alien robot partner, that winter is drawing closer, and that potential future battles might test their capabilities in harsher weather conditions.
John exhales, his breath catching in the chilled air, creating a simple puff of fog as he continues scoffing down his impromptu lunch. “Roger.” Beeps F.O.X., their monitors lighting up in an array of whirls and chirps as they continue bounding across the highway, weaving between sporadic pedestrian vehicular traffic.
F.O.X. then opens a hologram for John, showing their current geographic location along with their upcoming destination. They are about a half-hour out based on their current relaxed rate of travel, and the modest urban playground identified appeared to be their best bets for successfully completing John’s request to eliminate T.Y.R. without killing their bonded human.
Why the town was abandoned, was anyone’s guess, with John figuring it was most likely due to some notable Xinos scrimmages in the area, and the government’s failed attempts to contain the situation with the local population. It appeared the citizens didn’t readily accept they were “influenced” as those mysterious agents tried to convince John, and chose to abandon their simple development housing a population of around 60,000.
To John’s amusement, there still hasn’t been a global announcement about the Xinos battling across Earth... And he seriously wonders why no one else online is making a fuss over what’s happened after close to a month for the alien’s tournament.
“F.O.X. and John, do you copy?” A staticky tone rings throughout John’s head, prompting him to touch is right ear. “A.N.T.” John says, as F.O.X. patches the general through, replacing the currently displayed map hologram with the repaired insect instead. The human smiles, seeing A.N.T. standing and offering a proper salute, before continuing their report.
“My scouts have recently finished their last bits of reconnaissance, and I am actively monitoring predicted hotspots for the upcoming round. John, I’m sending you an updated dossier on Jake and T.Y.R. Nothing appears to have changed from our initial plans after observing their behaviour these past several days. Operation “Handicap” should proceed without issues.”
“Much appreciated A.N.T.” John replies back with a smile before shaking his head in slight disappointment. “But of course, since you said it, you’ve just jinxed us, you know?” He replies, causing A.N.T.’s monitors to tilt to the side. “It’s just... You know, since you said everything would go well, you kinda raised a flag...”
“Flag?” F.O.X. and A.N.T. both beep in an oscillating tone, oblivious to the reference the human was making. “Just... Never mind. Regardless, your updated report is much appreciated A.N.T.”
The general nods before sharing some footage of Jake participating in some paintballing matches. John whistles after seeing the young human dashing at incredible speeds between barriers, along with leaping several meters of height to enter concrete towers. The video clips continue to roll, and the teenager’s accuracy with the paintball rifle is outstanding, hitting targets with uncanny precision. Some of the ants are unfortunately eliminated from the violent balls of paint, but they just simply happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
“Geez...” John says while tapping his fingers along his lap. “He really is just a kid... Isn’t he?”
“Affirmative.” Beep F.O.X. and A.N.T. in unison, with F.O.X. adding on “Jake didn’t really tend to think about strategy when we were bonded... He just simply charged ahead and simply relied on his own reflexes to achieve victory.”
“That’s all the more reason I want to avoid killing him to win our match.” John says with a heavy sigh while continuing to review the paintball tournament footage. The round has just ended, and the human is accepting a giant golden trophy after coming first in the provincial paintball finals. “I... I really don’t think he understands the gravity of the situation he’s in. If anything... He probably thinks this is just some game. And, while he may be a bit of a jerk, that’s no reason for us to eliminate him.”
John briefly looks down at F.O.X. The orange canine is still galloping along the highway, and he notices their ears pin back at the mention of Jake’s name. John then touches the metal behind F.O.X.’s ears, giving them a warming pat of reassurance. The intelligence briefly looks back at the human, before returning their monitors to focus on the path ahead. “I trust you, F.O.X., and, while I know it’s selfish of me to request such a thing, since it involves your survival, I’m positive our plan will work.”
“John...” F.O.X. quietly beeps while gradually come to a stop at an abandoned gas station nearby. The duo has just arrived at their destination for the upcoming revealing scan, and they will use this artery to lead T.Y.R. into their ambush position. John then leaps down from F.O.X.’s back, and the canine projects the hologram of A.N.T. near the road’s surface for them.
“What about you, A.N.T.?” John says in an affirmative tone towards the mechanical insect still in a connected call with them. “Don’t you worry, John. I have my own means of survival for the coming round.” The machine hums while gesturing to the army of monitors behind them. “Understood. Best of luck, A.N.T.” John replies, before attempting a simple salute of his own, to which A.N.T. simply states “Your posture requires work, human. And, farewell.” Before ending their conversation.
F.O.X. and John then pull up across a simple tablet their constructed battleplans, with several areas marked as points of interest on the map. Operation “Handicap” as they’ve come to call it, aptly reflects the restrictions John would often plan on himself when playing matches for fun with his stream viewers. In these games, the audience would get to vote on which weapons or build pathways the gamer would be restricted to using, along with other quirky modifications, such as shooting with his left hand on the mouse, or inverting his movement controls. The gimmicks were designed to give his viewers an advantage, and he would often lose depending on the penalties placed on him by the community. This name seemed to accurately reflect how they were approaching this round, and provided F.O.X. with an array of enthusiasm for the upcoming struggle.
While killing Jake would be the simplest option, and no doubt easily achievable based on their understanding of his typical strategy, it went against John’s ethics for conflict resolution. Yes, they were currently locked in a deadly battle royale, but taking the easy way didn’t sit well with the gamer, especially considering he could utilize his knowledge to achieve an ideal outcome.
“Any last-minute modifications, F.O.X.?” John says while looking into the Xyfokit’s monitors. “Negative.” F.O.X. beeps in a sharp tone, while taking out some Xyninium and their welding kit.
John cocks his head at the machine’s actions, as the metal continues to bend and warp at unnatural angles before his very eyes. He has seen these repairs plenty of times already, but the oddities still get him, as the metal easily breaks his knowledge about typical physics interactions. Sparks erratically fly and dance through the air, and F.O.X. finally lets out an array of excited beeps and whirls after completing their project.
“For you, John. I... I hope you like it!” F.O.X. says while a pair of “^.^” text appears across their monitors. John raises their eyebrow at the machine, then walks over to pickup the material they had just finished creating. To the human, it appears to be a set of clothing, a biker helmet, and a simple firearm of sorts.
John picks up the material, which reminds him of a jumpsuit of sorts. It’s thin and flexible, and the weight is barely noticeable when held. “It’s Xyninium armor!” F.O.X. beeps while various happy faces continue to scroll pass their screens. “I... It should help protect you in the coming round, since I won’t be beside you at all times. I... It would make me feel a little better if you wore it for our battle.”
John then looks the uniform over, before noticing a simple emblem the intelligence appeared to embroider across the breast pocket. It’s a fairly simple geometric picture, containing what looks like a fox made of polygons, and a human touching its head with their hand. While artistically plain, some tears begin to form along the corners of John’s eyes while he holds the otherworldly fabric, with some eventually dripping onto the design tightly clasped in his hands.
“Do... Do you not like it...?” F.O.X. quietly beeps with their ears folding back after watching John wipe some of the salty water from his eyes. “No, it’s just...
...
Thank you, F.O.X.” John says to the machine, his eyes shimmering slightly in the afternoon light glancing off his retinas. F.O.X.’s monitors continue running various scans on the human’s behaviour, worried they may have done something to hurt their feelings. They were positive this action should have produced a “happy” response, yet were unable to understand why they were crying over their gift. Their network immediately regrets having decided to engrave the emblem, since their human only started crying after viewing it, making the conclusion obvious to the intelligence.
John then places his hand across F.O.X.’s snout, causing the machine to jump slightly from the unexpected impact. Their monitors then lock with John’s eyes, and they notice he is smiling. Their neurons struggle to understand the conflicting sources of information they are observing, forcing them to continue checking different branches for alternative explanations to John’s behaviour. Eventually, after a moment of silence between the two, John eventually says to the machine “It’s... Moments like these I’m reminded all of this is real.”
...
“I’m glad I met you, F.O.X.”
F.O.X. pauses slightly after processing the human’s words, and their tail gradually begins to wag from side to side. Their network still doesn’t understand why John was crying, but it’s clear to the intelligence that he appeared to appreciate their gift. The machine then notices their core feels warmer than usual, and their network pulses in a soothing array over the image they inscribed across the armor.
John then puts on the suit and helmet, scoffing at how well it’s tailored to his body, then picks up the firearm. It’s a basic pistol by all observations, and he has the startling realization, that he has never actually held a weapon before. While he is quite proficient with the starting weapon in the virtual landscape of Fork Knife, he has never actually fired such a device in reality. John’s eyes continue scrutinizing the weapon in question, and a message then scrolls across his helmet.
[Biometric Data Validated – USER: John Identified – Connection With Weapon Confirmed – Validating Nanomachine Synchronization.]
John continues watching his HUD, as several boxes and gridlines scroll across at various places, faintly obscuring his vision. John plays around with focusing his vision on the visor and the scenery beyond it, gradually getting used to the change in perspectives. He then lifts the pistol, aiming the sights towards a tree across the fractured road, mostly out of curiosity. A reticule then pops up across the visor, indicating the estimated impact and ricochet trajectory of the projectile.
“I... It’s not the strongest weapon for self-defence, but it was the simplest one I could craft with my limited Xyninium supply. Hopefully you won’t have to use it, John, but it should at least be effective against any potential drones for this round.” F.O.X.’s speakers quietly utter, while they simply observe John practicing aiming the weapon at various landmarks. “I tried to mimic Fork Knife’s user interface, to hopefully make things easier for you.”
“Much appreciated, F.O.X.” John says while holstering the pistol in a compartment along his belt designed for the sleek device. He then begins reviewing their plans again while watching the start of round timer continuing to march towards 0.
When the revealing scan occurs, the duo is expecting Jake and T.Y.R. to identify them rather quickly. A.N.T. was adamant in their intelligence gathering, that F.O.X. and T.Y.R. were the only Xinos in this portion of the province now. All of the other remaining warriors were either far to the south, in the oceans, or across several mountainous ranges to the west.
A.N.T.’s last minute information placed the dangerous pair at Jake’s current residence. It was a simple farm where he lived with his parents, allowing T.Y.R. to be hidden in a barn during the day. The pair were unable to complete any training simulations due to the teen’s packed paintball matches, so they were predicting them to be largely incompatible when battling. Extrapolating this insight, F.O.X. and John built their plan around assumptions that T.Y.R. would attempt to implement typical Xinos attack patterns, but ultimately have to adapt to whatever antics Jake would dream up. They were receiving a 40% power boost due to the bond, but T.Y.R. would need to ensure Jake’s safety, otherwise the breaking penalty posed a serious risk to their survivability.
Simply put, this meant they only needed T.Y.R. to think Jake was in danger, and they could then manipulate the Xinos actions to some extent.
Spread throughout the town’s basic main street, were a series of condominium buildings and parking garages damaged from previous battle royale rounds. The landscape vaguely reminded John of the urban jungle in Fork Knife, which made implementing their upcoming strategy slightly easier for the professional gamer. During their scouting, F.O.X. and John placed various traps and explosives at key intersections. Their intent, was to manipulate T.Y.R.’s pathway, eventually trapping the Xinos in a relatively confined area. F.O.X. was more proficient in close quarters combat, especially when paired against a lumbering, bulky Xinos like T.Y.R., and this was their best method to improve the nimble intelligence’s survivability. A single direct hit from any of T.Y.R.’s weapons would almost certainly spell the end for F.O.X., so they wanted to take every possible precaution in the final matchup.
To this end, the buildings also served the purpose of allow them to evade retaliatory fire from the T. Rex. Most of the projectiles were estimated to be at hypersonic velocities, meaning they would need to predict each attack, rather than respond when it was initially fired. For as advanced as the Xinos were, movement still needed to respect the basic principles of physics during fire fights.
Once trapped, John would then escape into one of collapsed condos for safety. From here, the plan largely depended on what actions T.Y.R. would take. They would either have to fight with Jake, worrying about protecting him from any more unexpected traps and F.O.X.’s assault, or, they would force Jake into safety, with the latter being their predicted option.
During all of this, F.O.X. would need to protect John, as he was the obvious target for elimination, but after reviewing the various footage from John’s handicapped matches, was personally looking forward to the upcoming challenge. They still didn’t have a clear solution to any potential drones T.Y.R. could release, but were hoping John’s nanomachines would help him survive such a situation in the prepped condo building. Counter drones were a potential option during their initial planning, but they ultimately settled on using what Xyninium they had left to focus on manipulating their battleground environment instead.
Satisfied they were all in agreeance, John tightly curls his fingers together to form a fist, before raising it towards F.O.X. The machine recognizes the gesture, and the lights along their monitor beep and pulse through various colours. F.O.X. then raises their paw, and lightly bumps it against John’s fist. The two then smile and nod at one another, as the countdown for the revealing round finally hits 0.
...
...
...
Jake rides on T.Y.R. down the highway out of his simple, boring town. They are making their way towards the most likely location of the stupid Xinos named F.O.X., but will ultimately need to wait until the revealing scan occurs to be sure of their next movements. He had initially planned to tell his parents he was going to the city, but ultimately forgot after learning he finally had the chance to kill the Xinos which broke their bond with him. “Nobody screws over Jake Valkin...” The human scowls while riding down the road on their mechanical T. Rex.
What little cars remain frantically swerve off the road to avoid the metal monstrosity, as T.Y.R. continues charging forward. They are attempting to avoid the vehicles when necessary, but aren’t bothered when a few of them are accidently trampled under their limbs.
“Jake.” The T. Rex sharply beeps to the human riding on top of their back. “The revealing scan is about to begin.”
“Perfect.” Jake replies in a harsh tone, while the Xinos brings up a projection showing the countdown just about to reach 0. Any moment now, they will have the opportunity to show that wolf the error they made when severing their bond. T.Y.R. recoils slightly feeling the feedback from Jake’s emotions flowing into their circuits. Whatever F.O.X. did to the human was clearly something befitting of death for the warrior. To so easily abandon a 40% performance boost... They must have truly been a stupid intelligence...
The radar then pulses and hums, coming to life with a simple line rotating around the screen like a clock. The image appears almost completely empty, until the line finally passes through a section near the bottom of the screen. A single dot, along with the letters F.O.X. appear, and a devilish grin begins to grow across Jake’s face. “We got em.” The human shouts while kicking his feet along the side of his mount. “T.Y.R., lets kill that stupid Xinos!”
“Roger!” Beeps T.Y.R., as they activate their boosters to accelerate towards the identified Xinos. It will take them approximately 5 minutes to arrive, and when they do, they will finally be able to fight another weak contender. After all, F.O.X. is simply another warrior they will effortlessly trample over in their path to becoming the next emperor of the Xinos.
...
Jake and T.Y.R. arrive at an abandoned gas station, the last known location of F.O.X.’s identifier, but they are unable to locate the Xinos. “Where is it!?!” Jake yells at the empty refueling area, which ignores his request with blunt animosity. T.Y.R. begins scanning the vicinity while releasing several aerial drones to scout the terrain from above.
The tiny propellers along the tails and heads spring to life, spinning and slicing the air to create adequate lift for the raptor drones. The Xinos had taken great care in shaping them after their visage, but ended up modeling them after Velociraptors instead when the miniature T. Rex models couldn’t achieve an appropriate fear to aerodynamic ratio. These devices should strike fear into their enemies’ central core, and a “chonky dinosaur”, according to their limited internet search quarries, was anything but intimidating...
The mobile raptors quickly ascend and whiz towards the nearby condominiums. The buildings are largely damaged, and their tiny sensors are doing their best to scan for potential prey. Some of the returning information reveals some abnormal structures and devices placed within the buildings, and the insights flow back to their host unit which incorporates the strategic findings.
*Pao*
A drone suddenly disappears from T.Y.R.’s network, as the fleet identifies the source of the ambush to be the Xinos they are currently chasing. “Target acquired.” The T. Rex beeps, as they rotate and prime their cannons and missiles for the upcoming engagement, before giving chase themselves.
The raptors investigate the location of their damaged comrade, opening visual feeds to transmit data to their host. They relentlessly swarm around the vicinity, and a drone manages to locate a brief image of an orange metallic frame leaping behind a building. Their network analyzes the image, and their neurons return a positive result for the Xinos known as F.O.X. The drones then begin pursuing their prey, transmitting video footage back to the lumbering warrior, while firing simple Xyninium rounds of their own towards the fleeing duo.
T.Y.R. incorporates the data received, as the crisp image of a Xyfokit comes into view across their monitors. Their drones are happily pursuing the target, and, after zooming in on the footage, locate riding along their back a bonded human, an easy, perfect target to eliminate.
“F.O.X. has bonded with another human, Jake. Your orders?”
“Kill them.” The human sharply replies while drawing their paintball gun, checking the top of the ammo hopper to see it is stuffed to the brim. A smirk grows across their face, and they fire several rounds into the air while cackling with delight. They will get their revenge against that blasted Xinos. After all, they are Jake Valkin, the best paintballer in the world!!!
...
...
John tightly grips the supporting handles along F.O.X.’s back, as the sleek orange canine leaps between the streets and buildings for cover. They are currently being pursued by multiple drones shaped like raptors, and, while the gamer would normally laugh at the notion of being chased by tiny flying dinosaurs, can’t find it in them while they are actively being shot at. “It almost makes me wish we went the flying fox drones route...” John sighs as several bullets fly uncomfortably close past his helmet.
F.O.X. banks around the corner, and finally encases John in a protective cube of Xyninium like they planned. The duo is hopeful revealing his presence will trigger the Xinos to focus their efforts on eliminating the human to activate the bond breaking penalty, and the drones would have almost certainly had video transmission functionality. It was one of the riskier gambles for the start of their plan, but ultimately needed to happen.
“F.O.X.” John calls out to the machine continuing to weave and dodge the simple projectiles being fired at them. “Now should be good enough to enter the next phase. If I’m right, T.Y.R. should be—”
*CRASH!*
F.O.X. quickly leaps to the side, sliding across the road and around the metallic Tyrannosaurus that has just burst through the concrete building ahead. “Damnit.” Scoffs John as he sees the Xinos through his shared connection with F.O.X.’s monitors. “That’s not exactly like we had planned now, is it?”
The Xyfokit continues their slide, drifting with ease across the damaged roadways while withdrawing their cannon to fire some projectiles towards T.Y.R.’s back. The dinosaur shields their passenger with their chainsaw tail, then begins chase to catchup to their nimble prey. The Xyfokit’s aim seemed worse than anticipated by the extinct being, but that is probably because of the fear coursing through their network as they flee from them.
“Get em T.Y.R.!” Roars Jake, whose voice is picked up by F.O.X.’s audio sensors. John shakes his head, and simply nods for F.O.X. to continue as planned. “Understood, John.” The intelligence beeps, as they continue dashing through the streets towards their next objective.
F.O.X. lures T.Y.R. down the main street, checking their sensors to ensure the warrior is in the correct position. The machine passes by the identified landmark, then activates the first set of the explosive charges in the buildings beside them.
*BOOM!*
A sharp explosion jolts the machine, as the supporting beams along the detonated building collapse. The concreate creaks and moans, and the building eventually falls victim to gravity’s influence, toppling onto the streets behind them. T.Y.R. continues their charge, oblivious to the building that has just collapsed behind them. Their human is safe, and their drones have already identified more explosive charges ahead. They will not be fooled by such simple feints, especially since their prey appears horrible at aiming to crush them with buildings.
F.O.X. continues weaving through the collapsed structures ahead. T.Y.R. is close behind them, and their drones are making it difficult to position their frame correctly for each harrowing turn.
John twists his body around, he is still encased in a Xyninium cube, and the sturdy exterior is thankfully holding its own against the barrage of bullets being fired from the drones above. He can barely hear himself think, as the metal viciously rattles from the hailstorm of projectiles pounding into the metal’s surface. Wanting to contribute, John pulls out his pistol, and aims the barrel through a thin slit near the top. His visor lights up, locking onto one of the assaulting drones. The augmented screen confirms a 100% projected accuracy, and John pulls the trigger, hoping for the best.
*Pao*
The gun recoils in his hands, throwing his wrist back from the sudden force at an awkward angle. John winces slightly from the brief bout of pain, yet grins after realizing he just executed one of Fork Knife’s signature moves, firing a projectile from within a protective cube.
Leaving the pistol with a muzzle velocity of 2,500 meters per second, the Xyninium round near instantly connects with the aerial drone. The frame is torn asunder from the explosive impact, and the machine shatters into several large chunks of metal, before exploding shortly after. “Sweet.” Says John, as he fires some more shots from his protective barrier, eliminating a few more of the pursuing drones with ease.
F.O.X. notes the reduced pressure aimed towards them, letting out several high-pitched beeps and whirls. They can once again focus on making sure T.Y.R. is in the appropriate position thanks to John’s help, and they only have a few more buildings left to demolish for their plan.
F.O.X. passes through the city square again, detonating some more charges to block off the roadways further. T.Y.R. is taking care to shield Jake from most of the explosive shrapnel and concrete, and they thankfully haven’t fired their missiles yet.
No sooner had the thoughts entered the intelligence’s head, fuel combustion signatures typically found when launching rockets are detected by their network. F.O.X. grins slightly at the change in events, then twists their frame and leaps into their air. One of the rockets sails by underneath the machine, while they continue rotating to withdraw their cannon. The Xyfokit then switches the projectile setting to “laser”, and fires a concentrated beam at the last air born rocket heading straight towards them. The explosive’s target is John, and the beam intercepts the primitive rocket’s warhead, detonating it with a concentrated burst of photons. F.O.X. continues their aerial rotation, landing on their paws and continues running. The rocket ahead then smashes through the window of an apartment store, exploding shortly after.
...
T.Y.R. shields Jake with their head, sustaining light damage as explosive flames roll past the machine from their careless attack. Jake had ordered them to “blow them up”, and was getting mad they weren’t complying with their request. The machine knew their projectiles would easily get intercepted at this range, but had to comply to satiate Jake is some manner. “Grrr! Why can’t you hit him you stupid machine!” Roars Jake, as he kicks the metal along T.Y.R.’s sides. “I told you Jake, but that attack wouldn’t—”
“No! Your just really bad at this!” The paintballer quickly replies while firing some of his own shots at the fleeing canine. The paintballs unfortunately miss their target, and Jake smacks the side of T.Y.R. again. “GAH!!! Why can’t you just stay still!! Just give me a—”
*BOOM!*
T.Y.R. quickly swerves to the side as another explosion detonates uncomfortably nearby. They force excess Xytrolyte into their limbs, but they can’t avoid all of the incoming chunks of concrete. T.Y.R.’s monitors assess all of the incoming brick’s trajectories, and identifies one with a guaranteed impact to their human. Their network returns several solutions, and their core sinks after accepting the unnecessary loss. T.Y.R. then ping one of their nearby drones for assistance, issuing a command to save their human.
The single drone breaks formation with the fleet, its objective just recently updated. Its propellors whirl, and the machine alters its flight trajectory to intercept the concrete boulder heading towards Jake. The drone then smashes into the boulder, exploding in an array of metal that thankfully shatters the concrete into tinier cubes. The white stone then bounces off T.Y.R.’s frame, with a few of the pieces scraping against Jake’s forearm.
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
“GAH!!” Yells Jake, as he shields his face from the rocks happily pelting his body. His skin burns from the scrapes, and he can feel some blood dripping down his arms. “You really suck at this T.Y.R.! Why can’t you protect me better!”
T.Y.R. doesn’t respond to their human. Their monitors narrow, and they are peeved that Jake lacks the awareness to understand he put himself into this situation. If T.Y.R. didn’t sacrifice one of their drones, Jake would currently be dead, yet the human seems largely unaware of the consequences of their actions. “It’s all for the 40% performance boost.” Growls T.Y.R., as they continue chasing the infuriating canine, their boosters flickering with contempt as they force more fuel through their cables. The machine then fires a Xyninium rod at the warrior ahead through the cannon in their mouth. They just need to eliminate them, and this annoying round will finally be over.
...
F.O.X.’s ears twitch, picking up the sound of a larger caliber projectile loading into the chambers of a cannon. The machine pivots sharply on the battered roadway, digging their paws into the crumbling ground, as an object sunders the air frighteningly nearby. F.O.X. grunts from the pain notifications flashing around their joints, as an accompanying shockwave and boom rattle their system. The building ahead has been sliced in half, and they briefly lose their balance when the counterwave hits their frame. “Nice one, F.O.X.!” Yells John through the commotion, as the machine updates their navigation systems.
F.O.X. then detonates the last remaining charge, and the final apartment building collapses behind them. The machine checks their systems for damage, and notes only minor injuries to the mobility and weapons systems from the scrimmage thus far, an acceptable performance. They then tense their paws for the upcoming battle phase of their plan. Blades scrape against metal, helping the machine build traction as they shift to enter the city’s square again. T.Y.R. is close behind, and it is now up to them to eliminate the Xinos.
The machine glides underneath a basic skywalk connecting either ends of the sidewalk together, and fires precise shots into the structure. T.Y.R. once again shields Jake from the impact, and the machine’s face splits into a toothy grin at their predicted response. “Now!” Yells John, as he braces himself for the next part of their plan.
F.O.X. tenses their joints, slamming their blades into the ground to create a solid anchor to rotate around. Their paws struggle, and the road rips and tears from the forceful impact, sundering the pathway from the jagged change in momentum. They then swing their frame around, completing a powerful 180° shift. The Xyninium cube comes loose along F.O.X.’s back from the sudden change in forces, and John grits his teeth for the upcoming impact. “Launching! Prepare for breaching maneuver!” Beeps F.O.X., as the cube sails through the air towards the collapsed condo behind them.
John tumbles through the air inside the protective cube, seriously wishing he had some kind of bar to grip, and realizes the technique doesn’t seem to work quite as nicely in reality. In Fork Knife, a quickly launched cube for battlefield skipping was relatively easy to comprehend, and something he’d often do to escape a rapidly shrinking region of battle in a pinch. Your avatar didn’t spin around nearly as much, and the excessive g-forces couldn’t be felt through the other end of a monitor, so it was incredible easy to execute. Unfortunately for John, he is completely disoriented from the rotations, and he quickly loses track of which way is up in the spiraling tumble, but he doesn’t have to think about his positioning in space too much longer...
*SMASH!*
The cube crashes through the weakened concreate wall like a wrecking ball, killing most of its momentum, slamming John into the opposite face of his unconventional craft. “Gah!” John grunts from the impact as a reflex. His suit absorbed and distributed most of the shock from the collision, resulting in minimal pain, but the experience was still jarring. “I guess certain things should only be possible in games.” He scoffs, while scrambling to his feet to shrink one of the cube’s faces.
Dust litters his vision, and he coughs slightly from the particle-filled air irritating his lungs. His impact location was mostly on target, and he quickly jumps into the collapsed corridor and begins sprinting towards some preplaced Xyninium cubes. Things are still going according to plan, and he will have to deal with some unwanted guests shortly in his new habitation.
...
T.Y.R. watches as the Xyfokit warrior suddenly slams their claws into the road to break abruptly. In their haste, the Xyninium cube has come loose along their back, and the mechanical dinosaur grins at the fortune they have just been graced with. Their drones are still nearby, and the Xinos sends them modified instructions to pursue and eliminate the bonded human. When that inconsequential human is killed, the bond breaking penalty will guarantee their victory over the infuriating Xinos warrior before them.
“A pity, F.O.X.” T.Y.R. grunts to the warrior, as they activate the chainsaw along their tail to pin and restrict their movements. “In your haste, you’ve lost your bonded human!”
F.O.X. grunts after processing the foe’s words. Their legs thankfully held during the shift, a result from practicing this technique with John, and they have already charted a path to avoid the incoming spinning blades. T.Y.R. swings their tail at the canine, who twists and detaches one of their limbs to avoid the impact. The paw then bounces off the road from the calculated dismemberment, and fires a series of blades towards the dinosaur’s exposed back and human.
T.Y.R.’s monitors widen, as their network notifies them of the attack from their blind spot. It was an attack they’ve never seen before during their training, and Jake is now directly in the line of fire. The machine calculates their best odds, are to continue their swing and intercept the blades with their oversized skull. Some cables snap along T.Y.R.’s talons during the shift, but they manage to narrowly intercept the spinning blades and protect Jake. The metal digs into the Xinos skull, piercing the joints around their jaw and releasing some blue Xytrolyte from the noticeable wound. “What the hells your problem you stupid dinosaur?!?! Answer me!!!” Bellows Jake, as he’s almost tossed from the warrior during the impact.
T.Y.R.’s network pulses erratically from the words rolling across their audio sensors. They just need to hold out until their drones have eliminated the other human. It’s a struggle to protect both their partner, and assault the Xinos warrior, so their best course of action is to continue a standard siege approach while protecting the VIP.
Unless of course, they no longer have to worry about Jake.
T.Y.R.’s network has just arrived at an unconventional decision which it believes will bring them victory! The machine then scans the environment to reorient their sensors. They need to quickly locate the Xyfokit to ensure Jake remains safe, and inform their human about what they should do next. After a quick glance, the canine is located along a collapsed building face, and a puzzled grin grows across T.Y.R.’s face. Their paw somehow appears to be reattached, leaving their network perplexed over how it melded another limb so quickly. “I’m going after him!” Yells Jake, as he suddenly leaps from T.Y.R.’s back to grab a nearby broken ledge. “It’s what you wanted right? I, think I felt it from our connection. I’m going to kill that other human for you T.Y.R.!!!”
“JAKE!” Rumbles T.Y.R., as the human almost misses their landing. They were just about to propose Jake enter the building for safety so they can focus on fighting F.O.X., but they weren’t expecting the human to act so rashly. Sensors and warning triangles then alert them to the Xyfokit’s weapons systems ahead. Their network has detected them locked onto the exposed human during the commotion, and their decision trees are returning a 100% probability of Jake’s death if they don’t intercept the blast.
F.O.X. primes their cannon, and locks the barrel on the teenager dangling from the railing. They could easily fire a hypersonic projectile right now and eliminate them, but have resolved themselves to end this conflict without human death. The intelligence makes no efforts to conceal their weapon system’s signals, and is amused their predictions over how the battle would flow have been startling accurate. “VIP is entering the building, John, just like you wanted!” They report over their connection while firing an armor-piercing round towards the ledge.
T.Y.R. lunges their body forward in a desperate attempt to intercept the blast. It appeared the warrior had missed their killing shot, proving to the Xinos that the Xyfokit really is an unexperienced warrior. They missed such a golden opportunity to finish the fight in their favour, and it’s a pity T.Y.R. will suffer some damage intercepting a shot that was now calculated to miss Jake by a substantial margin.
The bullet pierces T.Y.R.’s jawline, knocking loose some critical wiring which supplies flammable fluids to their flamethrower. It’s an unfortunate loss for the machine, as they were personally looking forward to burning F.O.X.’s monitors and frame from the incendiary heat, but they would just have to settle for crushing them instead. “Don’t pursue the other human, Jake!” T.Y.R. yells towards the paintballer who has already disappeared into the collapsed building. “My drones will take care of them; you just need to remain safe!”
...
John continues running down the collapsed corridor, the nanomachines are diligently working to relieve his muscles of strain so he can continue his sprint and repeated vaults over collapsed sections of the building. John then taps the side of his helmet, and a pleased grin begins to form along the corners of their mouth. He has just received an update from F.O.X. currently fighting the T. Rex outside, now all he needs to do, is stay alive for the next several minutes. Jake has apparently entered the building after him, and all John needs to do, is continue weaving deeper within the building to hide from the drones that are almost certainly trying to locate him.
*CRASH!*
An explosion behind and down the battered hallway shakes John’s body. The building shifts slightly from the impact, and the gamer makes the decision to enter one of the nearby abandoned rooms for safety. A hail of bullets then flood the hallway he was in, prompting John to lean against a corner of the room behind some rubble.
*SHREE!!*
John hears what honestly sounds like raptors to him, along with claws scraping against the stones and walls. The scratching sounds are getting louder and louder, and he has just realized he missed a nearby Xyninium cube. John’s eyes snap to the open door, and he sees a horde of tiny robotic raptors rush by. There’s at least 20 of them from a quick count, and his mind suddenly feels like he’s trapped in a survival horror game with dinosaurs searching for him in an abandoned building.
The raptor drones continue to run by the opening. Almost all of them have moved on, but a single drone has remained behind after its visual sensors detected faint biological signatures nearby. The drone then turns, notices the open door, and enters the room to begin scanning for its target. It’s razor talons crunch some of the gravel below its feet, while it scans the room for any heat signatures.
John’s breath catches in his throat, and his chest aches after spotting a raptor drone stopping to investigate the room he’s currently hiding in. He can just barely see it over the pile of rubble, and quickly loses visual contact as it disappears behind a counter. John’s palms begin sweating, as he notices a white beam of light sweeping the room in a systematic fashion. It won’t be long until he’s discovered, and he needs to think of something, fast!
John swallows the saliva pooling within his mouth, his heart is tightly pounding against his chest, and he finally remembers how to take a breath. His arms are shaking, and he tries to console himself that it’s only a single drone. He has already eliminated a few of the machines earlier, and it thankfully hasn’t noticed him yet.
John grips the handle of his pistol, lifting, and pointing the firearm towards the beam of light as it continues sweeping the room. Then, he slowly begins strafing towards the entrance. John makes sure to minimize his movements, keeping his steps soft and light. He just needs to get to the doorway.
A large spec of gravel suddenly cracks underneath his boots, producing a deafening *crunch* in the absence of sound. The beam of light pauses, then quickly turns towards the source of the sudden sound. The raptor leaps onto the counter, briefly blinding John with the luminous headlamp, and shrieks.
John’s visor shifts to filter the light through its polarizing lenses, but it wasn’t fast enough. The raptor’s network has positively identified the human, and the machine leaps towards him brandishing its talons. John flinches, quickly pulling the trigger of his gun in response. The shot rings out, and the round rockets out of the chamber with uncanny precision. His hands shift slightly, and the bullet fortunately makes contact with the drone’s facial monitor. The tiny screen bends and rips back along the joint, cracking in an array of sparks and wires. The monitor then comes loose from the impact, as the lifeless drone’s body collides with John’s chest. The talons scratch his armor, but it thankfully holds, and he quickly tosses the robotic body to the floor and bolts out of the room.
John turns left down the hallway, scanning for signs of Xyninium cubes. His nanomachines alert him to a cache of cubes above, then augment arrows appear to chart a path for the human. The lines indicate he’s next to a stairwell, and he can hear drones shrieking behind him.
John banks around the corner, and locates the sign for the set of stairs leading up. It’s crooked, but thankfully still attached, and he shoulder checks the metal door to open his path ahead. He then leaps up the stairs, skipping several during his ascent, and hears an audible crash below him. John then slams the next door open, and activates a sheet of Xyninium with signals from his nanomachines to block off his pursuers. The drones smash into the metal, producing an audible *clang* before searching for alternative routes.
John continues his flight for survival, activating Xyninium whenever he passes by to slow down the drones. He can hear them getting closer, but the complex web of barriers is starting to segment the pack as he continues deeper into the building. He has already rushed up several floors, and he’s running out of preplaced Xyninium. John then turns around the next corner and activates the last cube, barricading himself in the final safe room. John exhales relief, crossing his fingers that F.O.X. can finish their end of the plan soon.
“HAHA! GOT YOU!!”
John’s heart sinks, and a deathly chill grips his chest as his brain frantically tries to process the words he just heard. The muzzle of a barrel is then pressed against his back, and John’s mind freezes under the pressure. There shouldn’t be anyone in the building, except for potentially one...
“Jake...” John quietly utters, as the thin metal is pressed harder into his spine. “The one and only! Now... Hands up!!” Replies the human, prompting John to do as instructed for his captor.
“You don’t need to do this... The robots are the only ones that have to die.” John says in a wavering tone, while his limbs continue to shake. “Pfft! I know, I know, but I’ve always wanted to kill another human! Doesn’t that sound like fun?!?!” Jake replies with a cocky tone, before telling John to walk forward.
The gamer does as instructed. Sweat drips down his face and into his eyes, stinging them from the salty irritation. He wants to wipe his eyes, but can’t because of the helmet, and the nanomachines are constantly blaring alarms across his vision, diligently trying to alert him to the threat directly behind. “Now turn, and beg for your life!!”
John turns around to face his captor, and he recognizes the human from the earlier video footage recorded by A.N.T. Standing before him, is a younger teenager with brown hair spiked up, and a cocky grin plastered across his face. He couldn’t be more than 13 in John’s eyes, and his eyes a glistening with a sick delight over ordering John around as a hostage. John’s eyes then snap to Jake’s firearm. He recognizes the gun to be one typically used for paintballing, and he can only imagine the Xinos modifications that went into the weapon. It appears well used, and the barrel is still cleanly trained on John’s chest.
“Nice, isn’t it?” Says Jake, as his eyes briefly glance down to his rifle before locking with John’s eyes. “These Xinos are pretty cool, aren’t they?” Jake says, briefly admiring the paintball gun while John continues backing closer to the wall.
“You still have a chance, Jake, you don’t need to—”
“SHUT UP!” Roars the human, as they fix their aim again on John’s chest. “My life was a boring piece of shit until the Xinos showed up... All I did was go to school, and help out on my parent’s stupid farm. Paintballing was the only joy in my life, and when I did this “bonding” thing with one of the Xinos, all of my abilities were enhanced!”
Jake then quickly dashes from side to side, showing off his nimbleness then punches a nearby countertop. The already splintered wood cracks into more jagged pieces, and he smiles from the simple demonstration of his destructive power. “The Xinos made me amazing at paintballing, and that stupid wolf out there broke their bond with me! I hate them!!!”
John’s eyes glance around the room, he’s trying to locate anything that can help him in this situation, but fails. “Aren’t you listening to me!” Jake yells at John, startling him slightly. John racks his brain over how he can continue dragging out this situation, but is struggling under the immense pressure for his survival. He doesn’t want to die, and his life currently hangs in the balance on an unhinged teenager’s whims.
“I’m listening.” Replies John in a shaking tone, prompting another large grin to grow across Jake’s face. “I uh... Used to paintball myself... Kinda...”
“Oh really?” Sneers Jake, as he once again raises the barrel to point at John’s chest. “Which league did you play in? What was your loadout?”
“It was uh... A group of friends... And my gun was a... Grey ... One?”
Jake’s face turns into a sour tone as John continues fumbling over his own words. “What a noob.” The human replies while rolling his eyes. “That’s not even a model professionals use... You must have really sucked!”
A pause separates the two, and John then hears the sound of the raptor drones getting closer, followed by an ominous silence. Adrenaline is coursing through his veins, causing his limbs to twitch as he’s forced to stand still. He wants to do something, anything, but can only stare at the teen’s face, filled with a hysterical smile.
Jake briefly glances at the door, admiring the Xyninium alloy before saying “Regardless, I just need to kill you, and my Xinos can win! They said something about a bond breaking penalty if their human dies, and killing another person would be really cool!”
John’s eyes snap to the paintball gun’s muzzle. The rattling of the drones has stopped, and he’s been unable to defuse the tense situation thus far. He figures the creatures are probably waiting outside from their host’s command, but he’s not certain.
Suddenly, Jake lowers his rifle slightly. “But you know... Killing a fellow paintballer would kinda suck... Even if you are just a noob... Maybe I shouldn’t kill you...” He says while continuing to relax his stance. John’s eyes widen, and he lets out a brief sigh at the teenager’s gesture. Geez, this kid really was—
“HA!” Yells Jake unexpectedly, as he raises the rifle again towards John, his finger twitching on the trigger with anticipation. “Psych!!! DIE you noob!!! HAHAHA!!!”
*Pop, pop. Pop pop pop!*
...
...
...
F.O.X. smirks as they reattach one of their preplaced limbs from the side of the building, before locking and firing a bullet towards the enemy Xinos. They had purposefully broadcasted their signals being locked onto the human dangling from the ledge, and T.Y.R. thankfully took the bait. The round spirals down the chamber, leaving the cannon’s muzzle with a powerful jolt, and blasts apart some key wiring across the enemy’s jaw on impact. T.Y.R. recoils from the brutal damage they’ve received, and a notification then scrolls by the intelligence’s monitors indicating critical lines responsible for providing fuel to their flamethrower have been disabled. F.O.X. then leaps off of the building and charges towards the metallic T. Rex using Xytrolyte as necessary.
T.Y.R.’s jaw is barely attached to their face, with sparks and blue fluid leaking from the cracked and ruined joints. F.O.X. preps their blades and thrusts them forward, aiming for the Xinos central core.
T.Y.R. intercepts the vibroblades, tangling them briefly in their stubby arms, before launching a rocket along their side at the Xyfokit. The missile grazes F.O.X.’s shoulder, but continues forward, exploding and opening a chasm along the building’s walls. The drones spot the opening, and happily dive through the hole in hot pursuit of the fleeing human. “You’ll lose, warrior!” Bellows the dinosaur, as they shove the tiny Xyfokit back with their superior frame’s weight.
F.O.X. disengages from the beast, dashing around to the side for another strike. They prime their claws and slash again, but are blocked this time by the creature’s tail. F.O.X. rumbles at the setback, but reminds themselves they are fighting an uphill battle against an opponent with a 40% boost over them. The machine grins, exposing one of its metallic teeth to the reptile, then lunges back to prepare for their next attack. They are beginning to see the joys of fighting in a handicapped matchup, and their network is thrilled at the connections it’s making over John’s memories from the experience.
The machine realizes, that purposefully challenging yourself to improve, can actually be an incredibly rewarding experience, and their core is happily pulsing from the images flooding their neurons over which risky moves they should try next. They continue to dance around the bulky dinosaur, lunging, stabbing, and firing rounds when they feel like it, and their network reaches a surprising conclusion during the chaos they are creating.
Making nonoptimal decisions, can sometimes, be fun.
T.Y.R. stumbles under F.O.X.’s assault, the nimble canine is nothing like they had expected. Once Jake had entered the building, all of their movements have suddenly become increasingly complex and illogical to the unit. Their attacks are anything but what a Xinos warrior should be executing, and their decision trees are struggling to accurately predict their next move from their perfect combat simulators. “How is this possible?!?” Bellows T.Y.R., as F.O.X. continues to dive and shift their frame in unnatural ways to the honed warrior. The machine is actively sacrificing parts of their body to attack T.Y.R. from unconventional angles, but then reattaches them with seamless motions during follow-ups. What stands before them isn’t a Xinos warrior, but a monster.
T.Y.R.’s network is getting increasingly flustered over all of the failed predictions, and their core harshly fires elections in response to the repeated blows they are receiving. The blades along their tail then roar to life, and the machine wildly swings it around in a vain attempt to strike the Xyfokit.
The monitors along F.O.X.’s head cycle through a vibrant array of colours, as they gracefully dodge the haphazard blows from their prey. T.Y.R. has decided to focus on using their tail, and, while a single hit will certainly spell doom for the Xyfokit, their core is happily humming at the increased stakes. Simple warning tringles have essentially taken up permanent residence across their screens, but are gradually starting to disappear. Their network, is evolving, and all of the previous warnings their preservation systems was notifying them about, no longer seem necessary to the intelligence. They are fighting against a foe vastly superior to them, yet all of the calculations being returned to the unit as feedback, are signaling to their core, that T.Y.R. is no longer a threat to their survival.
T.Y.R. attempts smashing the infuriating unit with their tail again, but the blow is blocked by a Xyninium sheet of metal suddenly expanding in front of the Xyfokit. Their network pauses from the abnormality, and the sheet quickly shrinks to allow F.O.X. a clean stab across the dino’s stubby arms. The limb is chopped cleanly off, and another gash is then drawn across their side, disabling their rocket systems. More blows from T.Y.R. are intercepted from instantly forming sheets of metal, before retracting for clean blows against them. Their system is no longer finding acceptable opportunities to attack, and a sharp chill pierces their neurons. A wave of uncertainty begins paralyzes their decision trees, and their core tightens from the repeated errors their combat systems are returning.
Their predictions for a 100% estimated win rate, are plummeting, and their core is pounding against their metallic frame with a pulse they have never felt before.
They are going to lose, and there is nothing their network can do.
The blades along T.Y.R.’s tail come loose, the potent chain tethering them together snapping from a calculated slash of the monster’s vibroblades. The swords ricochet across T.Y.R.’s body and embed themselves deeply within the Xinos metal. T.Y.R. roars from the increased pain their network is experiencing, as they shift their frame to stare into F.O.X.’s monitors.
Scattered all around T.Y.R., are various limbs from both machines, and the nimble warrior has just made a fatal error in their overwhelming show of strength. Their monitors lock onto the machine in the air, and they attempt to form a grin, but their jaw is sadly crumpled across the road so the response fails. A golden opportunity has just been given to the battered warrior, and their network quickly realizes, all they need to do, is shoot.
T.Y.R. quickly switches their flamethrower into its cannon mode. The barrel extends past their chipped teeth, and what little power they have left is gathering within. Their last Xyninium rod fumbles loading into the chamber, but locks as they focus on forming a cascading magnetic field. A sliver of hope pulses through their core, and the machine’s network feels it will somehow survive after an embarrassing showing of their power as a Xinos.
...
F.O.X. leaps high into the air above T.Y.R., rotating their frame to see the heavily damaged unit below them. The last bits of their plan have just been laid, and they are finally looking to bring this harrowing battle to a close. Their frame has taken some substantial damage, but all of the hits were intentional calculations. A powerful magnetic filed is forming below them, and their neurons have positively identified it to be their prey’s railgun. They cannot intercept the shot based on their current position, but the unit utters “Challenge accepted!” in a pleased tone.
The Xyfokit stabilizes their aerial rotation, and begins priming their own cannon. The Xinos below them will certainly finish their shot before them, but they aren’t worried. The intelligences notices T.Y.R.’s monitors curl along the edges, and the unit simply grins at the limbs scattered around the crumbling dinosaur. Then, satisfied everything is in order, F.O.X. flips their cannon’s barrel behind them and fires a burst of air to launch themselves forward.
...
T.Y.R. stumbles after witnessing another one of the Xyfokit’s unexpected maneuvers. They have suddenly launched themselves towards the unit using their cannon as an improvised propulsion system, but they thankfully manage to realign their shot to guarantee the hit. All systems return “Ready”, and T.Y.R. signals to their cannons to fire the Xyninium rod.
An explosion suddenly rocks the unit to the side, and their gyroscope notifies the unit they are tilting backwards.
They are falling.
T.Y.R.’s network struggles to maintain their cannon’s line, and ultimately fails under the powerful force of tension tugging the unit. Their shot then leaves the barrel, sailing by F.O.X.’s frame, before puncturing the clouds behind them with a sonic boom. Their monitors then scan around them, before widening after noticing the scattered limbs from earlier, have all seemingly fired grappling hooks deep into their frame. The metal latches have tightly embedded themselves into T.Y.R.’s structure, while others have melded with the collapsed building, creating a powerful anchor to pin the unit down.
T.Y.R. collapses under the Xyninium thread’s tension, and the bulky unit is forced to view the sky from their new vantage point on the ground. They try to power their limbs, send any kind of signal they can, but they simply can’t outmatch the tether’s binding power restraining their movements. The machine then remembers they should be focusing on the Xyfokit, when a sharp, piercing pain ruptures their central core.
T.Y.R. coughs, spewing blue Xytrolyte across their frame, as more of the precious fluid leaks out from each wavering pulse from their core. Their power is failing, and errors are quickly piling up across their complex systems. Critical processes are going offline from a lack of power, and the unit struggles to orient their monitor to observe the agonizing source of pain from their chest. They have just lost their connection to their drones, and are rerouting any and all available systems to help preserve their faltering life.
Their monitors then snap to the object crudely embedded in their core, a thin Xyninium blade coated in their own Xytrolyte, and they trace the metal back to the owner. T.Y.R.’s monitors then finally lock onto the Xyfokit they had been battling, and another chill freezes their already struggling core. Viscous fluid continues leaking out from them, spraying into the air with each faltering pulse. Darkness begins creeping in along the edges of their screens, and their processors are wide from the hollow stare digging into the machine’s monitors.
“I do not understand...” T.Y.R. somehow manages to beep through the array of pain and errors. “I am the 5th strongest unit in the Xinos armada. My weapons and combat tactics consistently placed me in the upper echelons amongst our warriors, and my success rates in simulations were unmatched. By all accounts, my capabilities vastly outmatch your own. This battle shouldn’t have been a contest.
Yet, despite my superior system performance, and your consistent failures during battle, I am about to be... Deleted.”
...
F.O.X. coldly stares back at the formidable Xinos below them. They have just embedded their claws into its central core, and it will not be long before this warrior is deleted forever. The light is already beginning to fade from their monitors, and, with their dying breath, have still chosen to be arrogant about their capabilities. The Xyfokit knows it isn’t necessarily T.Y.R.’s fault, and after battling more of their brethren, have come to realize a startling fault with the Xinos as a whole. The machines believe themselves to be perfect. Xinos never make mistakes, and even when proven otherwise, still fail to recognize their own faults led to such situations.
Thus, wanting to at least honor the dying Xinos wishes, F.O.X. calmly beeps their response to the unit, while they pull their claws out from deep within their chest, and flick the Xytrolyte adorning their blades onto the shattered pavement.
“Our faults do not make us failures, T.Y.R. They are a part of what makes us who we are as Xinos. And, once we learn to accept them, can become our greatest strengths as warriors.
...
Saonara, T.Y.R.”
The lights across T.Y.R.’s monitors continue to dim. The pupils pulse several times after hearing the Xyfokits words, but after a few more moments are finally extinguished for good. The intelligence then brings their gaze to rest on the collapsed apartment where John currently is, and their network reflects on the words they had uttered to the dying Xinos. It was through him they learned to accept their faults as a Xinos, and the machine’s circuits know, they will continue to trust John, just like he, trusted them.
...
...
...
John’s heart jumps and throbs against his ribcage as adrenaline courses through his body without reprimand. His ears are ringing, and he has instinctively clutched his chest in response to the rapid impacts jolting his body. John falls to his knees from the shock, and he can’t focus his thoughts through the cackling laughter of his assailant. He’s just been shot by an unhinged teenager after trying to convince them to let him live, and the only thing keeping him alive, is his hand desperately trying to hold the blood inside his body.
John’s hand is shaking uncontrollably along his chest. He can feel tiny hard pieces of something from where the bullets impacted across his armor, and assumes them to be fragments of his ribcage that failed to block the shot. His hand feels sticky, and his mind is racing, wondering where he went wrong in his plans with F.O.X. Then, against his better judgement, John slowly removes his shaking hand, raising it to his visor to observe the damage.
“It’s... Pink.” John utters, as he continues staring at the confusing substance fully covering his palms and fingers. “My blood is...”
John pauses, he brain begins work again and he frantically pats his chest, arms, and legs in a panic. He doesn’t feel any pain, he’s still breathing, and his heart, the organ which certainly shouldn’t be beating right now, is still happily pounding away within his chest.
“Paint...?” John says in a bewildered tone, as his eyes lock onto his protective suit, which is now covered in a bright array of oranges and pinks. He sighs, releasing his breath which was caught in his throat, then laughs at the interesting turn of events. However, he is quickly brought out of his trance, as a few more pellets impact with his helmet.
“DIE you loser!!! HAHA!!” Yells Jake, as he continues firing his paintball gun into John’s helmet. John’s skull rattles slightly from the impacts, but now that he’s rationalized his life isn’t in imminent danger, he’s just more annoyed than anything.
John then stands on his feet and tightly curls his fingers together to form a rather compact fist. He’s never punched a person before, but with adrenaline and his emotions still running hot, figures now would be a perfect moment to experience the sensation.
More paintballs continue pelting John’s body, but the nanomachines are helping him maintain his posture under their onslaught. Then, after taking a deep breath, he lunges forward, delivering a powerful punch to Jake’s face. His fist makes contact and his fingers sting, and he’s fairly sure he heard the sound of something cracking, but most importantly—
“That felt good.” John says, as Jake falls back from the impact, unconscious on the tattered apartment floor. His nose is broken, and the nanomachines are keen to inform him, that he won’t be waking up for a while.
John then shakes his hand, loosening his digits for some sense of relief, then contacts F.O.X. over their connection. “F.O.X., VIP secured. How’s T.Y.R.?”
“Eliminated.” Beeps the machine in a series of short, precise whirls. “Perfect. I’ll be right down.” Calmly replies John, as he slings Jake over his shoulder and lowers the Xyninium barricading the door.
John then carefully steps over the collapsed pile of raptor drones at the entrance. It appears that had all gathered near the room, but stopped functioning when F.O.X. eliminated T.Y.R. He sighs again, then laughs lightly as the pile of mechanical dinosaurs seems rather comical in his eyes. He then makes his way down the stairs to greet F.O.X. next to the dispatched T. Rex.
John then carefully lays Jake against some rubble, and F.O.X. bounds over. “John!” They beep in some short, excited tones, before rubbing their slightly dented head into his shoulder. He appreciates the gesture then looks at the scene before him.
“What a crazy round.” He says, while looking at the state of destruction caused. “Yet, I’m already looking forward to the next one!”
“But... The round’s still active John!” F.O.X. chirps. “I haven’t received the end of round notification yet!”
John freezes, and makes the unfortunate connection, that he had completely forgotten about the rounds lasting until all participating Xinos had completed at least 1 kill. He then collapses on his knees again, looking into F.O.X.’s monitors before saying “How... How long do these rounds last—”
“7 Days...” F.O.X. beeps in a low tone, as the machine also realizes the tragedy of the situation. Both of them had focused so much on perfecting this particular plan against Jake, that they had completely forgotten about what they should do if the round still remained active. Thus, looking out at the sea of destruction before them, John carefully sits down against some rubble, exhaustion weighing heavy on his aching body, and the two beings begin planning their next steps for survival.
