"So how are you my old friend? I hear you have a son now."
An ominous red light flashed down the sterile hallways as the loud repeated blare of a horn accompanied it. Important-looking men and women in white lab coats rushed down the corridors, and though there were no shouts, hushed whispers filled the air with tension. Their hasty footsteps were accompanied by the clanking of the bizarre machines that traveled near their side. The robots were of assorted sizes and shapes, but all of them headed towards the same direction as the scientists with a sense of purpose. As both robot and people congregated inside an immense dome-shaped room, a tall, old man stood on a platform and faced the gathering crowd.
He raised a hand for silence. "We cannot stall any longer," he began, "they are on their way right now, and it is the time to take action." He peered intently at the audience beneath crooked glasses. The building shook with an unearthly rumble at the end of his sentence. The machines seemed to not have noticed anything, but most of the scientists cowered in fear.
"It is too late for anyone to back out of this plan," he replied in a matter-of-fact manner, "Everyone has already known what they were going to get into as soon as they signed on." Tremors ran through the entire building and the walls began to crack. A young man broke through the ranks and ran towards the door.
"No! No! I need to get the hell out of here!" He scrabbled for the doorknob as beads of sweat ran down his face. His lab coat fluttered with every jerky movement. "Let me out! You can't keep me here!"
The old man clapped his hands together. The glasses on his face slowly hovered in the air an folded in the lenses and pulled together the hinges. It had an odd mosquito shape to it now, with its lenses as wings and its hinges as a needle-like contraption. With a quick flap of its lenses, the recently transformed robot flew to the young scientist and sunk a sharp point deep into the base of its skull. The man ripped it out.
"I didn't even feel a thing," he sneered. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be goi—" A strange look crossed his face an he keeled to the floor and fell on his face. A thin line of blood dripped out of a small puncture wound on his neck. The mosquito-bot buzzed back to the old man and reformed its shape to a pair of glasses again, settling down neatly on the old man's face.
He adjusted them with a hand before facing the audience again. "Anymore concerns?" The rest of the scientists remained deathly quiet. "Good," he concluded. "Walking out with the information here is the same as walking to your death."
A brave woman raised a shaky hand. "What about staying here?"
The old man looked thoughtful for a moment. "Same difference," he concluded simply. Everyone quivered. The small robot next to the woman gave a worried chirp before moving behind her. "Maybe the witches can-"
"They can do nothing. We're not looking for war. But if it comes to that, then there is no sidestepping it," the old man stated seriously.
"We're scientists, not soldiers!" One man blurted out. Everyone agreed in quiet murmurs. "Our robots aren't meant for fighting!"
The old man gave a dry chuckle. "We don't have to worry about that," he admonished them. There was the terrible screeching sound of metal being ripped apart. "Not for long anyways."
One middle-aged woman let out a repressed sob. "We should have listened to Shinigami-sama!"
The man ignored the statement. "We have already contacted a trusted agent to continue the plan."
"Stein?! That foolish-"
Something outside the room banged against the steel door, creating a large dent. The scientists huddled together, their robots were powerless against this greater power. There was an eerie silence.
Thunk.
The scientists held their breaths.
Thunk.
The old man simply looked up at the small window on the very center of the dome ceiling. The stars in the night sky innocently twinkled back at him. "Good luck," he murmured, as a large metal claw tore through the door.
The unfeeling red-eyes of the mechanical monsters stared at them before launching into action. The building could hold on no longer. With a groan, the dome began to implode upon itself. Large pieces of the ceiling tumbled down, crushing the screaming bodies below. Those who were not crushed faced a gruesome death by mechanical killers. To his surprise, the old man could easily block out the agonized screams, and ignore the blood that splattered like some gruesome abstract painting on the floors and walls. He didn't even flinch as red-eyes stared into his tired ones, content with the knowledge that no reapers would be coming for them.
For they never had souls to begin with.
"Try to remember me, hm? I'll see you later, Death."
Maka abruptly sat up, her hands clenching her pounding head. Through her small bedroom window, the moon laughed and laughed.
AN: Yup...I'm planning to make this a MakaxKid story, and I promise it'll get to those parts eventually! I'm not very experienced with writing romance so my apologies for any awkward transitions. Review/feedback would be much appreciated. Thank you for reading ^-^