Chapter 7

Learning the Truth


Sanford had another flashback, when times were different, when everything wasn't blasted with soot, and ancient, and decrepit. He always had these episodes of reminiscing, which, he supposed were kind of impossible to avoid, seeing as life hadn't always been so hard.

It was human nature to long for homeostasis, especially when the person in question had once possessed it and had had it taken away from them. In the outskirts of Boston, speckled with the rural outcrops of farms and housing, domestic life was cooled, and quiet, and as more and more people moved west, all of those things only amplified as the population decreased.

Sanford remembered that when he was little, when he was still basically a baby, around the age of ten, eleven, he used to stay up late at night, and he'd listen to the wind, how it would howl through the shingles and the boards of his house.

He used to stay up wondering what his father had been doing at that exact moment, he used to think about the rest of the world, how he wondered what it all looked like, and why there was so much violence.

Even back then, when Sanford didn't have the right understanding or words to put to it, the idea of human nature escaped him. He didn't understand that while mankind assimilated great technologies, cures for diseases, and ways to improve and limit the tampering of the environment, people were still bickering, and delving into blatant stupidity.

Humans had this habit of going backwards, of giving into emotion, focusing on things irrelevant, unimportant, forgetting the originality in the world and backstabbing one another when stress levels rose.

In truth, people were no different from animals, the only thing was, humans were smarter, a predator would just to eat you, people would attempt to gain your trust first. Perhaps that was why Nyx had come into his life, she wasn't human, and there was actually something appealing about that.

Boston had a cold and common way of reminding him of the past, because, literally, the past was everywhere around him, all the damned time. The past had been buried, dug up, and the parts had been scattered all over the place, to stink, and fester, and sit against the midday sun.

Everything that had been wrought on this festering world was the fault of humanity, Sanford sometimes wondered if things had changed that much for him personally. Did his dwindling belief in God and spirituality coincide with his developing hatred for his own race? He couldn't really tell.

Out here, in the real and ugly world, absolutes were exactly what they sounded like, absolutes, and there was no getting around them. The time for peace had been squandered, people's ignorance was to blame for that.

The wind whispered to him maddening things, it howled, and caressed the ruins of the city, licked the hills and bypassed wrecked automobiles.

Sanford Tobs heard the breeze bristling past the shoulders of his armor, the suit whined and clinked, he shifted in his crouch to get a better view of the road behind him, a winding path of gray, speckled with destroyed cars and blown out trucks.

Woodland bloomed to the west, east, and south, ahead, the farthest outskirts of the City of Boston began, there were apartments, small businesses, and further down a few miles, the ruined skyscrapers started.

If his mapping was correct- which it usually was –he wasn't that far off from the borders of the very people he was here to meet. The scanners inside his suit were batshit, according to area reports, there were at least ten other heartbeats in the vicinity, and all of them he counted as even threats.

Sanford scrolled through a few detail readings in his HUD, blink activating tiny scripts describing the body types of his assailants, they were all humanoid, the heartbeats, but the scans were also picking up machines, and there were three of them.

Schematics showed up, he looked through them, didn't like a single thing he saw, and found himself grumbling a vast array of curses under his breath that could've put even Hancock to shame.

But, speak of the devil, the billowing breeze coming down the road wasn't the only thing to catch his attention, he heard the efforts of an engine thruster, and the clanking of aged metal parts moving.

"-I'll have you know TWO things, sir!" Hancock snapped as he floated over from behind some trees to the right, Sanford offered him a half-glance, and turned back to look down the road again.

"Either of these- 'Things' –wouldn't happen to have anything to do with why we're here, would they?" He creased his lip under his helmet.

"Of COURSE not! What do you take me for?! A REPUBLICAN?!" The robot snapped in offense.

"I had no idea you'd chosen a party..." Sanford snickered, he aimed his laser rifle down the winding pavement ahead, focusing on a vantage between two large complex buildings. "Doesn't matter though, seeing as they're both, you know, gone, and all…"

"HA-! Serves 'em both right!" Hancock laughed. "-Buncha' blue bastards, toting around that fat ass elephant! TRYING TO PAWN THEY'RE TRUNKS OFF ON PEOPLE-! FUCK-'EM!"

"…Han'…"

"-WHAT, YOU MONKEY?!"

"…Those were the Democrats."

"BAAHHHH-! What's the difference anyhow?! He-She-Me, POLITICIANS! We should invent a time machine, sir!" Hancock poked him on the pauldron with his buzzsaw blade.

"-Really?" Sanford raised a brow, turning the scope to the left a little, he adjusted in his crouch, the armor creaking, and gravel shifting under his heels. "What the hell use what that be?"

"We could go back in time, find all those pot-smokin, dick-suckin', pocket-stuffers, and ram American flags up their asses!"

Sanford blinked, and he slowly looked away from his rifle's scope, he gazed at Hancock with a bewildered expression. "…What the hell is wrong with you?" –He finally got out.

"I'll tell you what's wrong, you SWINDLER-!" Hancock snapped, reclining back, as if insulted. "-When did the San of the Ford become a COMMIE' SUPPORTING GERBIL-STROKER?!"

"…Oh Christ…" Sanford rolled his eyes. "-Can we get to brass tacks, man?"

"FUCK YOURSELF!"

"Did you, like, you know, SEE anything? Anything that might be useful?" Sanford held a hand out in shock. "-Come on, Han'!"

"What else do you want me to say?! There's ten malformed, anti-hippy, cross-dressing pussies wearing army fatigues at ten-a-clock'!" Hancock pointed his Plasma-gun down the street. "-I've got GOOSEBUMPS, sir! Let's fuck 'em up!"

"You don't have skin, you freak." Sanford shook his head, musing. "-And didya' just choose NOT to notice the robots there with them, or…?"

"-OH YEAH?!"

"Yep."

"-WELL YOU HAVE A SLANTED DICK-! HA! TAKE THAT!"

"You don't even HAVE a dick."

"….Take it back."

"Nope."

"-TAKE IT BACK YOU SONOFABITCH-!"

"Nah."

"-EVERYTHING'S TURNING RED-!"

"Ya' know, I'd tell you to blow it out your ear, but, you don't have one of those either, so…"

"-DAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH-! I'LL CUT OFF YOUR LIPS WITH A FORK-!"

"Oof."

"-DON'T TALK TO ME ABOUT DICKS-! YOU'RE STILL THE VIRGIN-MARY, REMEMBER-?!"

Bsskkkk-! –That must have been the trigger, because a very large rock sailed out and collided with Han's chassis, it did so with enough force to send sparks everywhere.

Sanford angled his head back, watching as his robot flailed, and then collapsed on the ground by the side of the road, giving off the distinctive sound of a bag of cans scattering on the dirt. The dust swirled, settled, and Hancock lay down there like a dead body.

"….MAN-DOWN-!" Came a moment later. "-SOMEONE PHONE A MEDIC-! Make sure he's a mentally unstable Korean-midget with a gimpy-eye-!"

"If things go according to plan, usiner', that won't be the case much longer." A feminine, deep voice announced.

"-Nice shot." Sanford grinned as Nyx stepped over from the opposite side of the road.

"Un coup critique'…" The Deathclaw chuckled, tossing a spare rock away in an under-handed toss of her claw. "-It is unfortunate, monsieur', I had another rock prepared."

"-Welp'," Hancock said. "-I fold!"

"That ain't the only thing…" Sanford scanned the road again, and then turned back to Nyx. "-They're just up ahead."

"This is the plan of attack?" She raised a scaly brow.

"I said you didn't have to come."

"Mm."

"I know, I know, not possible…" He huffed. "Look, if these people wanna' play hardball, they've got my attention."

"But escalating an undeclared war? Is this wise?" Nyx shrugged.

"They did that for us." Sanford countered, flipping the safety off his rifle. "This is retaliation, not provocation."

"-STUFF YOUR BIG WORDS UP YOUR ASS!" Hancock barked. "GO ON-! I KNOW WHAT YOU WANNA' DO! LEAVE ME-!"

"Get up, Han'." Sanford rolled his eyes and stood up. "We're moving."

"YOUR MOTHER WAS A COW MOLESTER-!"

"Least she wasn't a snowblower," Sanford called back. "-like yours."

"-WHHAAAAAATTTT-?!" Hancock shot up like a rocket, his arms flailing everywhere. "-YOU DARE MOCK ME WITH YOUR MOVIE-REFERENCES-?!"

"It got you off the ground, did it not?" Nyx grinned, her tail curling behind her.

"-THAT'S IT-! I quit!" Hancock said.

"You can't frikkin' quit, we're in the middle of nowhere," Sanford spread his arms in appall. "-Vent your unquenched rage on the bad guys, wouldya'?"

"-THAT SOUUNNDDDSSS-!" Hancock suddenly deflated. "-Very agreeable! What a plan, sir!"

"…Jesus Christ." The young man shook his head. "I dunno', I dunno' what to say."

"Mentalement instable." Nyx sighed tiredly.

"…Mental, something?" Sanford tried.

"Mentally unstable." She clarified. "The usiner' is insane."

"-I'M LIKE A FUCKED-UP SUNDAE-!" Hancock cackled. "-THE ICE CREAM'S MADE OF PURE, FUCKIN' MADNESS-! WITH WHIPPED CREAM, AND A CHERRY ON TOP-! And I'm not even served on a SUNDAY! I'm served on a MONDAY to cause INDIGESTION! HA-! HA-HA-!"

Down the road they went, one man, one robot, one biogenetic experiment gone wrong.

"…Remember," Sanford leaned over to Nyx. "Don't move until I TELL you to, you don't have armor, the last thing I need is you getting shot."

"I have been shot before." She angled a yellow eye at him sideways. "I understand, mon cher'."

"Just making sure."

"Yeah, well while you're both making sure, I'm getting a cramp in my left bolt-strut-!" Hancock complained, testing the propellant on his flamethrower attachment. "-Let's get to roastin' some of these bastards!"

"Keep it down," Sanford hissed, holding a gauntlet up for the two of them. "Nyx, you remember the layout we discussed?"

"Oui'."

"Good, take our flank."

"As you wish."

-He caught the reptile by the arm, clenching her leathery skin in his steel fingers, Nyx looked down at him in confusion.

"-Please be careful." He mumbled.

She leaned over, and horn and steel clunked whilst she tapped him with one of her horns, she flickered away after that, her cloven feet carrying her across the street, and into an alleyway faster than he could process.

Sanford whistled at her speed.

"….UGHH…." He looked back at Hancock, who sounded horrified.

"-WHAT?" Sanford shrugged. "What'd I do?"

"If I had the stomach to do it, I would've PUKED!" The robot drifted ahead of him. "-Who needs romance anyhow? It's cheap, used and abused and inbred!"

"…Well-! …Wow…" Sanford stopped himself, marveling at the cruelty. "…Oof."

"I'm picking up the schmucks, sir!" Hancock jabbed his Plasma-gun forwards. "-Looks like they have a sentry!"

"What do you mean?" Sanford asked as he jogged down the street.

"-He's up high, probably has a rifle, and he's looking to put a bullet in our balls!" The Mr. Gutsy clarified.

"MY balls, you mean."

"You are RELENTLESS!"

"Focus, Han'!"

"NEVVAAAA'!"

They congregated behind the corner of a concrete building's foot, advancing down the street with caution, as it was lined on both sides with storefronts, apartments and offices, it left a lot of places for snipers to hide.

Hancock wired his own scans over in connection to Sanford's suit, and as he sifted back through the readings in his HUD, he was made aware that indeed, there was someone up high, and overlooking their point of attack.

"Sniper." Sanford nodded. "-He's Gunner, so he has to have a pretty nasty rifle with him."

"CAN I NUKE HIM?!" Hancock asked excitedly. "-PLEASE, SIR?!"

"….ughhh…" Sanford rolled his eyes, he jabbed a thumb at the windows of the building above. "-Knock yourself out."

"-HA-HA-HAAAAAA-! BEWARE THE BADASSERY AND LONG-DISTANCE REACH OF-! THE HAN-!"

"-But WAIT, until I-"

PSSHHHHffwwhhmmmmmmm…..

"…give….the…signal…." Sanford stared up at the pillar of soot that spread and enveloped the mass of his armor, and most of the surrounding street. "….That's just swell, Han', real swell."

Shaking his head, Sanford checked his rifle again and the sword on his hip out of habit, he grumbled under his breath, and looped around the corner of the building.

By now, he had to believe Nyx was in position, Hancock had taken up post in the upper level of the white building behind him, and he was advancing on ground level towards their target, the plan was set.

"-Han', can you hear me?" Sanford wired over.

"-Loud and clear, sir! Oh how I missed your annoying Bostonian accent-!" Hancock said through the static of the com link.

"We've only been apart for three seconds, Han'." Sanford chuckled under his breath, pressing his suit's back to the brickwork of another storefront's corner.

"And what an agonizing three seconds they've been-!"

"Are you in position are not?"

"Why not keep tabs on your crocodile?! INSTEAD OF ANNOYING THE LIVING SHIT OUT OF ME?!"

"She doesn't have a radio, you idiot."

"-OH, well, fuck, don't ya' think she should, sir?"

"…That was strangely SERIOUS of you to say…" Sanford blinked. "…But, uh… yeah, g-good point."

"Sniper in sight, sir! He's on a fire-escape! LOOK AT HIM! He's even got one of those ugly, dumb-ass Mohawks-! I'll scalp him afterwards and gift it to you as a birthday present!"

"If only I remembered my birthday…" Sanford grinned, peaking around the corner of the building at the expanse beyond. "…Yep, I see him too."

The Gunner encampment wasn't much, but Sanford had reasoned that if they were going to shake up the leadership, they needed to start out small. A large wooden and scrap wall sealed off an intersection of alleys between four rows of buildings, and a crank-activated gate made of construction boards was lowered and ajar at the front of the barricade.

The wall curled in an oval, and a large scrap shed made of bolted plates of aluminum and tin was erected just behind it, one of the buildings of the alleys making the encampment was armored with green-painted sheets of metal, it turned a series of eight windows into murder-slots, up three stories, two windows per story.

There was a ragged cloth flag jerking lightly in the wind, it streamed from a stake jutting from the arch of the low wall's gate, it was olive drab, and had a poorly painted white army star emblazoned on it. From where Sanford was hiding, he could see three people standing in the middle of the encampment, they were smoking cigarettes, talking lowly about something, two men and a woman, all clad in army fatigues and bits of United States infantry armor.

A fire escape ran across the ribs of the three story building these folks had plated to high hell, there was a single guy up there, in the usual Gunner dress, with this hideous brown-colored Mohawk blooming from his shaven scalp like a ridge. He was holding a scoped rifle over his gut, one that Sanford realized to be one of those .50 caliber bolt actions.

"…shit…" He mumbled. "-I HATE those things…"

"What'd ya' say about your aunt's tumor, sir?"

"Kill that guy for me."

"CAN I NUKE HIM?!"

"Toast his ass."

"AH-HAHAHAHAHAHAAAA-! LET IT RAIN, YOU MOTHER-FUCKERS-!"

Pssshhhwwww-! –Something distant hissed, and produced a whimsical sound in the air.

The people in the camp must have heard it too, because the poor slobs sitting in the middle of the court, all three of them jerked their heads up to the sky, like a bunch of meerkats who had heard a lion approaching.

The missile was a comet in the sky, it trailed black soot, whirled around, and streamed right over the alleys, towards the fire escape where the Gunner sniper was standing.

The poor guy didn't even move or yell, he just stood there and watched until the missile smacked right into the flank of the building. The sniper, a portion of the building's flank, and most of the fire escape were all incinerated, in a deafening explosion.

BMMMMMMMM-! –The explosion was so voluminous, that a mushroom cloud bloomed, and smoke and fire licked, bulged, and flew everywhere, debris, bricks, chunks of metal and tortured stone fell like large chunks of oversized hail into the camp below.

Screams were heard, shouts, rants, the three people in the alley court vanished in all the soot and smog.

Sanford was awhile off from the camp, and even he still felt the heat wave from where he was, the air actually jolted under the concussion of the warhead's detonation.

"-HOLY SHIT-!" He cursed, hiding behind the corner of his building again, he heard bricks clobber on the ground nearby. "-What the fuck did you put in that missile, Han'?!"

"WOOOOOOO-! HOLY SKUNKS FUCKING UNDER THE BARBEQUE-! THAT WAS AMAZING! AND, HA'-! Wouldn't you like to know, sir?"

"Starting pinning, I'm moving up!" Sanford yelled. "-Good shooting, Han'!"

The X-01's boots thudded into the ground with each step he took, he advanced with speed for the open gate of the camp's stockade.

"-…We're under attack…!" Someone shouted in all the smoke clouding the camp up.

"…I can't find, Gil'-!..."

Sanford reached the gate, he shouldered into the frame, and aimed the barrel of his weapon at the courtyard ahead.

There was a body buried in all the bricks and rubble that Hancock's launcher had created, it was a vaguely humanoid bulge of grays and tans, nearby, another Gunner, a man, who was coated in dust, was twitching, he had his arm stuffed under his hip, and the other was draped crooked across his chest, he produced these sobbing hiccup-like sounds.

Footsteps echoed across the courtyard, there was a Gunner woman, the same he had seen standing right over here before, she had her arms raised and was swinging at all the dust floating around, she was covered in gray, and a trail of crimson leaked from her mouth.

She had a pipe rifle weakly clasped in her one hand, she probably couldn't even see Sanford if she had wanted to.

He took pity, bit his lip, and put three bolts in her chest.

PMPMPM-! –Red mist blistered into her sternum and erupted out her back, she was a film of paper that collapsed silently back into the smog about the ground.

"-….I see him-!..." Someone barked.

Patatatatat-! –Gunfire clattered, Sanford jumped in his own skin and folded back behind the stockade wall, rounds punched in the dirt and cast splinters from the boards and scrap he hid behind.

Assault rifle, Sanford listed. What else?

He could hear Hancock's Plasma-gun clacking, he saw green comets fly high over the stockade as his friend peppered the building he had previously hit with his missile.

Clk-! Clk-clk-! –Someone returned fire from one of the windows.

Carbine, Sanford peered around the arch again. At least there aren't any of those .50's anymore.

Pok-!

-fwww-CLKSSHH-! –A round shot out and punched a hole clean through the stockade right behind him, kicked up a cyclone of dust by his left heel.

Scratch that… Sanford cursed. I hate those things.

He checked his scanners again, there were two on the ground floor of the building ahead, three on the second and third stories above that, whoever had the other .50 caliber rifle was in the latter.

"-HAN'! Keep 'em pinned-!" Sanford wired over. "-I'm breaking cover-! I'm giving the Nyx the signal-!"

"-Got it, sir-!"

Sanford pointed his gun straight up at the sky above, and he fired once- Pm-! –then twice- Pm-! –then thrice- Pm-! –all spaced out.

No sooner had he done so did he peak from cover, and right as he aimed for one of the windows through the smog, he saw something unbelievable unfold.

There was a large, dark shadow that leaped from the rooftop of a nearby building to the camp's left, that sailed, and then landed somewhere on the roof of the building filled with their assailants. Nyx had played out their plan to the dot.

"-That's my girl…" He chuckled.

Pok-! –A bullet ripped through the arch right over the dome of his helmet.

Sanford grit his teeth, ducked instinctively, and sprayed the middle two windows of the building with laser bolts.

PMPMPMPMPMPMPM-! –the streaks of crimson ate clean through the aluminum plates and chewed into the brickwork and concrete, Hancock's plasma bolts kept flying through the sills and hitting the frames, for a while, the gunfire stopped from the upper floors.

Sanford moved out into the open, he shot from the hip and jogged, cutting a line left to right with his rifle across the ruined storefront of the building's foot, something glass shattered, and someone screamed distantly.

His boots crunched through the rubble, he had to jump over one of the corpses soiling the piles of concrete and dirt, he reached the foot of the building, and shouldered into a trim of brick between two fat display windows.

Someone peppered his cover from the inside of the building, an assault rifle, by the sound of it, bullets whizzed through the windows and smacked into the bricks inside.

"…I'm gonna' fuckin' kill you, Tobs-!..." Someone yelled from inside.

"…Yeah?" Sanford mumbled, tearing a fragmentation grenade from its magnetic mounting on his hip. "-Why don't you eat my ass, you piece a' shit…"

He popped the pin out, and underhand tossed it through the window in front of him, he waited a few seconds, and the grenade actually surprised him by exploding a little early.

CLAKKKK-! –A deafening thwacking sound, dust catapulted all around him, and stone bounded and clobbered about inside.

Sanford jammed the barrel of his gun into the window, pulled the trigger, and sprayed a wide cone of fire into the room beyond. The arcs echoed to silence and the smog began to settle, Sanford looped one boot after the other over the chin of the window sill and hopped into the first floor.

"-aaaaAAAAAHHH-!" –Phskksllpp…. –He jumped when a distant scream suddenly became louder, and then was cut off with a rather disgusting cracking and splattering noise.

Sanford scanned the destroyed lobby, there were tens of holes punched into the ruined walls, a pair of mangled corpses were in the corners, in several pieces each, it was hard to discern where the arms, torsos, legs and heads were from all the ragged meat.

He saw a stairwell leading up to the second floor, footsteps echoed from above, signaling some of his quarry running.

He glanced back outside and saw that a new casualty had been added to the mounds of rubble in the courtyard, either Han' had shot the poor guy or he had just slipped in the chaos, but one of the Gunners had fallen head-first from the third story, and now everything from the neck-up looked like a smashed tomato.

Screams echoed from upstairs, the floor thudded, gunfire sounded.

"-DAMN IT-! Sanford-! SANFORD-! YOUR ALLIGATOR IS STEALING MY KILLS-!"

Bm-CHSSKK-! –Sanford jumped when four pylons of wickedly sharp chitin punched through the plaster of the roof in the center of the lobby, a hollow scream drawled out for a long time, and then tiny rivers of blood flowed down to the tips of the claws, and dripped on the floor.

Nyx ripped her fingers from the body she'd run through, and her nails sapped back up into the ceiling, but the blood trails kept dripping.

"…ugh…" Sanford cringed. "-NYX? How ya' doing up there?"

"-I am unharmed, monsieur'!" Muffled from upstairs. "-I cannot say the same of nos ennemis'!"

"Hold on," Sanford stepped through the disgusting remains of the two victims down here, he mounted the stairs, and carefully started going up them. "-I'm coming…"

He had to loop narrowly through the tight space, but eventually, Sanford was able to step out into a large apartment level of the building, the wood floor was soiled with debris, scorch marks, and trails of speckled blood.

Two bodies, human, impaled, chopped up, basically ravaged by Nyx's claws, there was a pair of destroyed robots in the room as well, a pair of Securitrons, Army designs, holed through and blasted, either destroyed by Sanford's or Hancock's suppressive fire.

His Deathclaw was standing in the middle of it all, her claws coated red, there was a band of blood that had gone airborne that was staining her chest and belly too, she heaved from the all the excitement, her nostrils flaring.

"…They made me angry." She huffed.

"-I-I can see that," He chuckled, nudging one of the men over with the toe of his boot. "Ugly fellow."

"They all are… ugly." The Deathclaw tested the air, her tongue flickering. "…Mon cher'?"

"Yeah?"

"I smell something."

"-Lizard-Lick's right, sir-!" Hancock communicated through his helm. "-There's another one of those bastards in there with ya'!"

"…Yep, I see him," Sanford followed his scans' indications, he looked up another flight of steps leading to the third story, they were scratched and marred all over from where Nyx had rampaged down them to kill the assailants here. "I'll get him."

"I will come with you." Nyx stated.

"-I'm taking him alive," Sanford held a hand up. "-I could use a prisoner after all this shit."

Rubble clacked off his boots, the servos in his knees creaked, the stairs threatened to break under the weight of his suit, he jogged up the flight to the third story.

The room up here was in just as bad of shape, it looked like a really tall attic, the wood construction of the walls and ceilings reminded Sanford of that kind of cell. Laser and Plasma holes were everywhere, the two windows streaming gray light from the dayside were chewed and rendered larger by the volume of fire.

There was another destroyed robot up here, a blackened, arachnid sprawl laid out next to the window, it was the wrecked chassis of another Mr. Gutsy, Hancock had probably blown it to hell with his Plasma rifle, the damage looked consistent.

There was a ruined dresser that had been shot to pieces in the corner of the room, the whole side of the chamber- basically everything to Sanford's right –was buckled, in that the wall was riddled with gaps, cracks, and there was smoke billowing from the merger between the floorboards and the wall itself.

Hancock's rocket had nearly taken the whole building down, he needed to finish his search of the room and get out, quickly.

"-Nyx," Sanford called down the flight. "-Get out of the building, the structure's too weak."

"-I'm not leaving you inside." She informed simply.

"I wasn't asking."

"Neither was I, monsieur'."

"…God damn it…" He mumbled. She was so stubborn.

The floorboards creaked under his heels, he scanned the nose of his rifle about, until he heard something small, and metallic, skitter on the ground.

Sanford stopped in his tracks, he looked past the curve of his cuirass and saw a shell casing that had been nudged by the toe of his boot. It was golden, glistening, and blackened at the front and back.

"….Yep, .50 cal' shell, check…" He muttered. "…but where oh where, is our little friend…"

He looked at the back corner of the room, to the left.

There was a small closet, and the sliding wood doors were partially ajar.

Sanford sneered, and he stepped over as quietly as he could manage, aiming the barrel of his rifle, he switched sides on the battery pack and made ready to defend himself.

"…Hey," He said, angling the chin of his helm up. "-I'm taking prisoners, if you were wondering, you lay your gun down and come out, I won't shoot."

"…bullshit…" He heard someone hiss inside, he recognized the weight in the voice, the lack of depth.

"…Lady, look, you shot at me, I get it, but I'm just here for answers…" Sanford stepped over, and he reached out for the doors of the closet. "…I think you know who I am."

No sooner did he grip the trim of the door, did Sanford hear something shift inside the closet space, he tightened his grip, leaned back on his heel, and then he flung the closet door aside.

SshhBMMKK-! –He stepped back, and immediately, there was a person who materialized from the shadows within, a Gunner woman, her face laden with black warpaint, she had a buzzcut head of black hair, and she had dropped her sniper rifle, and was advancing on him with a machete.

Sanford yanked out his sword, it flickered to life with a crackle of red energy, the woman snarled and brought her grimy blade in a downwards strike for his head. He easily parried the blow, their blades met, and red sparks kicked.

The Gunner hadn't been expecting the reaction times, and she had to reach pretty high up to counter Sanford's taller stature. He swung the merger to the left, and then he nailed her right in the chest with the butt of his rifle.

He knocked the wind out of her, she doubled back, he stepped forwards and buried his metal-encased knee into her stomach, she made this- 'pfff-!' –sound, and collapsed in a groaning heap on the floor, the machete blade clanging and rolling away.

I never liked hitting girls, Sanford thought, he deactivated his sword and stuck it to his hip. But when they're trying to cut my freakin' face off, I'll make an exception.

He hauled the Gunner over his shoulder, her arms draped raggedly over his back, and he made for the stairwell.

"-I have a prisoner." He announced without much enthusiasm to Nyx.

"Would you like a medal?" She raised a brow with disinterest as he clocked down the steps. "I do not see WHY we keep one of the animals breathing, je dois' admettre'…"

"I just want some damned answers," Sanford sighed, coming into view from the third story. "-Let's just get out of this building, I don't wanna' get buried or some shit."

"-Even though it would funny as hell! HA-!" Hancock snapped through the mic.


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