Chapter Text
CRIME IN PROGRESS: CIVIL UNREST
LOCATION: CORPO PLAZA
CALCULATING ROUTE...
SURVEY MODE:
TARGETS IDENTIFIED: CORPORATE SECURITY, ARASAKA, ARMORED DIVISION
CIVILIANS IDENTIFIED:
ADULT MALE: 1
ADULT FEMALE: 2
ADULT MA--
UNIDENTIFIED TARGET: 1
HEAVY CYBERNETIC AUGMENTATION DETECTED
CHANCE OF CYBER-PSYCHOSIS: 90%
ARREST MODE:
CALCULATING ASSAULT ROUTE...
ALERT:
TARGET IDENTIFIED. APPROACHING AT HIGH VELOCITY
IMPACT IMMINENT. COLLISION WITH CIVILIAN IMMINENT.
CALCULATING INTERCEPT VECTOR...
CALCULATION COMPLETE.
CHANCE OF SUCCESSFUL INTERCEPTION: 95%
EQUIPPING: SPT32 GRAD...
INTERCEPTION SUCCESSFUL
INITIATING CLOSE-QUARTERS SUBROUTINE...
EQUIPPING: JKE-X2 KENSHIN...
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
"GET BACK, FUCKER!" The feral little woman screamed over blast after blast from the cannon gripped in her over-sized metal hands. The slugs pinged and plinked off her target. Its outline staggered, stumbled, but it would always turn, and its red eyes would burn out of the shadows, and it would come closer, closer...
"I said STOP!" She slammed back the slide and tilted the barrel up at the red dots. She held her breath...
It was knocked out of her as a black mechanical arm swung into her chest. She sailed backwards with empty hands and landed painfully on a pile of rubble. She wheezed loudly, did not move.
"STAY STILL, RUNT," a voice between grinding metal and electronic noise spat at her. The figure grabbed the shotgun with both hands. It bent inward, and the body snapped in two. Unspent slugs spilled at its feet. "I'LL DEAL WITH YOU NEXT."
It faced its other target. He had the face and body of a young man, and nothing else. All four limbs had been torn off, reduced to scrap laying nearby. Machinery was visible through gashes in his skin, and sparks flashed from his ruined eye. He lay in the wreckage of some mechanical exoskeleton, large portions of which were still stitched onto him. As the figure loomed closer, he could only thrash his head and grimace.
"ANY MORE SURPRISES, PUNK? ANOTHER SNIPER TO GIVE ME TROUBLE?" One of its claws hovered over a dent in its torso, the mark of a high-caliber round. "I DIDN'T THINK YOUR TYPE PLANNED THAT FAR AHEAD."
If the young man could spit, he would have.
"YOU KNOW," and the grating voice became almost wistful, "I HAVEN'T ENJOYED MYSELF THIS MUCH IN A LONG TIME. I SHOULD THANK YOU FOR THAT."
The young man curled what was left of his face into a sneer. "Whatever, choom..." he growled. "Like I...give a shit..."
The figure showed no expression. "SUIT YOURSELF. YOU WERE ALL GONNA DIE TONIGHT ANYWAY." It raised its right arm. A small tube slid out behind its wrist. The open end glowed blue, and grew brighter and stronger, turning a cold, blinding white. Behind them, the little woman gasped, "No...
Under the growing light, the young man closed his eye, and lay his head back with a smile...
Suddenly, the figure jerked its head to the ceiling of the wrecked highway. It sensed something up above, large, familiar. It dashed backwards, swung its glowing arm up. A streak of light blazed out, struck the ceiling in a deafening burst. Glass, metal, and concrete tumbled to the ground.
Alongside the debris, with a whoosh of air, something crashed onto the spot where the figure had been standing. Dust kicked up and blocked it from sight. The three witnesses thought it was another shard of concrete or loose bar of steel.
Then, with a whirring of servos, it stood. Its outline was humanoid, as tall as the black figure but markedly slimmer. A patch of moonlight cut through the swirling dust and reflected off of gleaming iridescent silver. The little woman still could hardly speak, even if she knew what she was seeing. The young man craned his head as high as he could.
"...who the hell is that?"
"YOU." The figure ground out with a wrathful edge. "I THOUGHT I LEFT YOU FOR SPARE PARTS IN DELTA CITY."
"I was fixed. You should know what that is like." The newcomer's voice carried the same synthesized bite, but it was calmer, sterner. More human.
"DOESN'T MATTER ANYWAY. OCP'S GOT NO AUTHORITY ON THIS COAST. YOU'RE NOT THE LAW HERE."
The newcomer's face was almost completely hidden under a steel visor. The downward curl of his exposed mouth was enough to convey his mood. "I'm not here on corporate orders, Smasher."
"STILL TRYING TO PLAY GOOD COP, HUH? YOU HAVEN'T CHANGED, OLD MAN. SO WHAT'LL IT BE? 'DEAD OR ALIVE, YOU'RE COMING WITH ME'?"
The newcomer raised his right hand. The light from the surface fell on a unique-looking Kenshin: sleek, silver, heavily modified, potent. "'Alive'? Not this time..."
"SO IT'S PERSONAL, THEN?" The figure gave a harsh, metallic chuckle. "GOOD! MORE MEAT FOR THE SLAUGHTERHOUSE!"
The newcomer turned his head to the two laying behind him. The little woman was too stunned to react. The young man stared from his broken body. He felt as if he could see through the thin black visor looking back at him, and felt real eyes, caring eyes, watching him.
Then a corner of the newcomer's mouth tugged upward, into the smallest hint of a smile, and he nodded.
Before the young man could speak, the newcomer turned away. He stepped forward, whirring and clicking with each fluid step, put more space between the figure and its victims. The figure stepped back; when the newcomer leveled his pistol, pointed squarely at its chest, its red eyes flickered with apprehension. A low, synthetic growl issued from its voice box; a final warning.
The newcomer planted his feet, weapon at the ready. He accepted the challenge.
"Your move, creep."