Wraith stood in Webb's Zen garden, looking around longingly at the peaceful objects that would never again be used. Well, it'd be used one more time, in fact.
Wraith entered the doors of a dojo on one side of the garden, and once in there, Wraith crossed the floor where combat was held in a large red circle and entered a small room. In it were three open boxes. One held a staff, just like the one Webb used in battle. In another box was a gun, a small pistol that Webb could possibly have used. In the final box sat a shining golden katana.
Wraith picked it up gingerly and hefted it in his hands, feeling the balance of this magnificently-made blade with text written down the side of it. It was in Kanji, so he couldn't read it, but he made a mental note to ask Chess what it meant.
He was distracted when he heard a noise outside the small outcropping of a room and saw a figure leap up after gazing at Wraith. Wraith exited the room, still carrying the katana. "Hello, who's there?" he asked, and got silence in response.
As soon as Wraith stepped far enough into the room to put a foot in the red circle, an invisible gong sounded and a severely mechanical voice said "Beginning round three, katana."
Wraith wondered what that meant exactly, when he heard a noise from above him. He looked up to see a black figure drop down at him, holding another katana above his head. Wraith jumped back, and consequently the dark person missed.
The man landed low, making nearly no sound, and looked up at Wraith. "Will you not face a warrior?" he said, brandishing up his sword in a salute.
Ah, a training program, thought Wraith. In response to the challenge, Wraith brought up his own katana and held it out expertly in an equal salute. This one's for Webb.
The ninja lunged at him, swinging the blade he held horizontally at Wraith's chest, and Wraith hopped back, barely escaping the sword. As he caught his footing on the ground, he pressed back at the ninja and stabbed forward.
Pivoting to the side to dodge the attack, the ninja prepared to counter, but bent backwards to duck under the sudden chop of Wraith's sword. The ninja pulled himself back up and hopped over a follow-up cut, then swung down vertically as he fell back to the floor.
Wraith brought up his blade in defense, and the two katanas clashed, sending a few sparks up into the air. The two warriors held their positions momentarily, staring at each other. Then with amazing speed the ninja leaped back, and got into another stance. Wraith too, prepared himself again.
This time however, as the ninja lunged at him, Wraith surprised the warrior by moving forward before Wraith's foe could swing, and slashed downwards at the ninja, splitting him into two pieces as blood sprang out and sprayed everywhere.
Wraith caught his breath, then looked at the corpse as it disappeared. That was too easy, he thought. He was correct.
A whizzing sound revealed another opponent, and Wraith spun, katana in hand, in time to see a second and third shape leap over him. He twisted back and threw his hands out, extending the blade to block a double chop that would have decapitated him.
Both of the new ninjas leaped back, and slowly paced around to place themselves on opposite sides of Wraith, effectively flanking him. To protect himself, Wraith was forced to watch neither, and look forward, continually checking the corners of his eyes for movement.
He caught sight of motion to his right, and twisted in that direction, swinging high to miss the neck of the ducking ninja, then whirling back left to block an incoming attack from the second. Wraith leaped over a low attack, and chopped downwards, splitting the first ninja in two, then quickly brought his own katana back up to block yet another midriff hit from the second.
Both competitors paused, and with amazing speed, Wraith jumped back and threw his katana at the ninja, who leaned out of the way and grabbed it. Unfortunately for the dark warrior, as he turned back Wraith had fetched the downed ninja's blade and was stabbing it through the second's abdomen. He twisted it, a ferocious grin on his face, then wrenched it out.
Both ninjas and their weapons disappeared, and Wraith had nearly no time to fetch back the blade that was Webb's before many other shapes leaped through the paper-like walls to land outside the circle. Slowly, Wraith stood and risked glances around. At least ten more warriors stood around him, all gingerly stepping forward with their blades outstretched.
He calmly closed his eyes and stood in the middle of the ever-closing circle of foes. He opened them again, this time into the bullet-time of the Matrix.
With remarkable grace and poise, Wraith slowly (at least to him) cut down many of the ninjas one by one as they approached, slicing the first across the chest and catching his sword as it fell from the carcass. He then dived to the second and spun tornado-style trough him, sending his torso across the room, and continued on to the third, stopping and with both katanas cutting a large X across his chest and spraying blood. He then hopped lightly high into the air over a charge from another ninja, tossing the katana he had attained down though his chest and impaling him. As he fell on top of another he kicked the side of the ninja's blade aside and severed his head. The sixth rushed at him, to have his sword kicked into the air, then he was stabbed through the gut. Wraith then caught the falling sword and spun around, tossing the blade across the circle to skewer a seventh ninja through the heart, and lodge him up against the wooden door.
The eighth, ninth, and final combatants all stood side by side, looking warily at their fallen comrades and each other. Then Wraith let himself fall out of bullet-time, breathing a sigh of contentment. He smiled and got into a strange but effective position, and urged his foes forward with a motion of his hand.
All three charged forward, swinging wildly. Wraith managed to block the first two slices by sweeping his own katana forward, and lean away from the third. He pivoted and jammed his elbow into the middle one's gut, then leaped up to dropkick another, and swing his blade to decapitate the third. The remaining to stood groggily and rushed forward, bellowing their battle cries in a language unknown to Wraith. He firmed up, then rushed between the two, and spun back around before they could, slicing through the one to his left, then blocking a hit from the right, and cutting him down too.
He breathed heavily, now sweating. Again, all of the ninja's, their blood, and their weapons disappeared. In their place however, came many, many more.
Wraith backed away from the stream that came through the door, and stopped, looking up to see another flow of ninjas come piling through an upper door onto the elevated perimeter walkway that traced around the room a good twenty feet above the floor.
Dropping into a stance that was low and defensive, Wraith repeatedly shuffled around, looking this way and that as many, many warriors trailed in, surrounding him on the floor. Others stood on the balconies above. This was a tight situation.
Wraith shifted his weight from foot to foot, preparing himself for a difficult task. He was extensively tired from the previous fighting, and he knew he couldn't hold bullet-time very long.
Suddenly one of them sprang at him; Wraith sidestepped the vertical swipe as he entered bullet-time, swung, sliced the man into two, then dropped out of bullet-time again. Another charged forward, and he repeated the process. A third and fourth did as well, and he took them down with difficulty.
Wraith looked around, sweat pouring down his face. He felt a strange sensation, and noticed a shuriken whistling past his ear from behind. He spun to face the aggressor and swung his katana to block more that came. The final one he caught, roared in anger, and launched back. It soared into his forehead, and he stood dead momentarily, then fell forward.
The ninja's nearby comrades looked at the downed me, then roared and hurried forward, a full compliment on eight. Wraith entered bullet-time, and sped towards them, cutting down one, then two, then three, then decapitating a fourth, slicing a fifth in half, stabbing the sixth, leaping up and kicking the seventh in the temple, sending his brain flying out the other side of his head, and finally landing and stabbing the last.
Wraith nearly fell over in exhaustion, going down to one knee. He looked up and around himself, wheezing in pain. From above, the ninjas leaped down with their katanas outstretched. Wraith took a huge breath and leaped up, cutting two in the air as he rose, and landing on the barricade on the upper level. He rent his blade through the combatants that flowed around his feet, cutting them up.
A lone ninja with a shuriken tossed it at the wooden barricade, cutting the support underneath Wraith and sending him forward onto the wooden upper level floor. With all his might and concentration he entered bullet-time, then spun around as fast as he could with his katana, slicing up half a dozen of his foes. But as they fell, more came in.
Wraith stopped, and decided on a course of action. He grabbed a katana from a fallen ninja, and leaped out of the second story level, flying through the paper walls and landing on the grass outside. He had to find somewhere to make a good defensive position. He saw a bridge overhanging a small pond.
Rushing to it, he looked back to a continual black stream of fighters against the serene atmosphere of the garden. He mounted the bridge, and stepped backwards to the opposite end as ninjas began to flow onto it.
Wraith pelted them with both katanas, sending sliced and diced bodies over the bridge to stain the pool red, and he killed at least twenty of the seemingly endless stream until they began to get smart, and some went around the pool as well. Wraith noticed the problem and started pressing forward, trying to get a position in the middle of the bridge. He concentrated, entered into bullet-time, and launched forward, double-kicking a pair of ninjas and stemming the flow as they all fell backwards. Wraith stood in the center of the bridge, facing out towards the pool, as on one side the ninjas flowed forward to meet him, and on the other they stood up.
Wraith could tell no more than thirty were left, and nearly that number were in the water beneath him, staining the pool red. From each direction they came, charging forwards continually. Wraith would cut one way, while kicking in the other, or wait until they were close enough and slice in both directions.
Twenty more to go, he thought as what felt like rivers of water poured over his face and his clothing. He was beginning to lose strength, and could no longer completely sever limbs or heads. He stabbed into one's gut, left the katana there, grabbed the corpse's katana as he fell over the side, and spun to lodge it into another's neck, sending him too over the edge. Ten left…
He caught one up in his foot under the chin, then spun and cut him across the abdomen. Blood poured out, staining Wraith's clothes with more blood; it was completely maroon by now. A kick to the neck launched another ninja to his death, and a series of three cuts ended the lives of a trio of the warriors. Five more, his mind pleaded as his muscles began to give out.
He sliced through the final pair on one side of the bridge, then turned back to face the last three. He took all his strength and cut through the wood of the bridge, making a small line right across it from left to right. The weight of bodies made it start to bed in. He skipped forward and jumped upwards, kicking the center ninja square in the chest. He went flying onto the grass.
As he passed between two more, he elbowed up in either direction and both became unconscious as they fell back onto the bridge. Wraith cut it again as he ran by, sending them to drown in the blood red water as the bridge collapsed in. Just one left.
Continuing on, Wraith reach the one he had kicked, who had risen again but was now weaponless. Wraith reached him, slammed his fist into his nose, then with all his remaining strength sliced cleanly through his neck, sending his head soaring up into the air amid a spray of blood, then cut again as it fell, splitting the head in two.
His goal complete, Wraith fell over backwards onto his back. He closed his eyes, and drowsily opened them. He mouthed a silent scream.
Ninjas. Everywhere. They now filled the entire garden, with him in a small open space, one of the few remaining. Wraith reached up with a now blood-free arm and wiped his brow, making sure he wasn't dreaming.
A single ninja came to stand over him and raised his katana. Wraith prepared for the death strike.
It came.
The sword came crashing down, right to where Wraith's heart would be. As soon as the blade touched skin however, the ninja froze. A beep came to Wraith's ears, followed by the same mechanical voice: "Program complete. Level 4 in round 3 attained. Ending simulation."
The ninjas disappeared, and the garden returned to its former serene state as the bridge was reconstructed. Wraith looked around, and at the katana still in his hand.
Webb, he thought, looking at the foreign script, I will avenge your death. Then he felt hands lifting him up, and he fell into unconsciousness, still gripping the golden sword.
He opened his eyes a minute later to see two feminine faces, Cosine's and Chess'. They were both looking at him, in Webb's and Chess' former quarters. "The King awakes…" Chess says, as he and Cosine help him to his feet in all his sweat and tremor.
"Have a bad day?" Cosine asked. She and Chess released him; he regained balance on his feet, shook his head to focus, then looked at his sister.
"An old training program of Webb's," he said.
Chess nodded lightly. "Round three, I assume?" she asked, with the air about her of a lost memory. "He never managed to pass level seven," she added.
Wraith's mouth dropped open and he couldn't find words to describe how insanely skilled Webb was to be able to do that. "I…I got beaten after stage four!"
Chess shrugged easily, turning to look at Webb's former PPU. "He practiced nearly every night in that simulation. All three rounds, as many levels in each as far as he could go."
So that's how he got so good, Wraith thought, gazing at the PPU. This reminded him of the sword. "What was the text on Webb's sword?" he asked Chess. "It was in Japanese, I couldn't understand it."
"Actually, Japanese has one spoken language, and three common written sub-languages: Hiragana, Kanji, and Katakana. The three lines of short, small characters say the motto of Webb's former master in Kanji:
ジャスティス justice
平静 serenity
治平 peace
The two larger lines are Katakana, which is commonly used for names and foreign words:
トリスタン TO-RI-SU-TA-N
ウオンゴ U-O-N-GO"
Wraith listened with interest as she easily recited the foreign language. "Tristan Wong. His name in the Matrix," he said as he bobbed his head as she finished.
She nodded and looked again at the machine. Wraith came to a realization it was the last (and only, for that matter) thing that existed on this ship that was the property of Webb. She added that "The sword was given to him by his master, before he was freed from the Matrix. He had refused to use it while working for the Freeminds, because it reminded him of the fact he used to be trapped within it's confines.
"You can have it, Wraith," she added, noticing him looking at the private Matrix-like machine. "He's not using it anymore…"
Wraith turned to look at Chess again, tears swelling up in her eyes. She tried to cover up her anguish as much as possible, but occasionally people just had to let it out. Cosine stepped over and placed her arms around her shoulders, hugging and trying to shush her as she catered kind and caring comments to Chess, who was now weeping audibly.
With as much dignity as he could partake in, Wraith hefted up the heavy PPU and carried it down the hall from the room. As he entered his own, he could still hear Chess bawling from Webb's former quarters.
He placed it down at the head of his bunk. Wraith hadn't owned one recently, primarily due to his management of time because he was a Captain; whenever he was on his ship he was doing duties, and when he was in Zion he was meeting with other Captains or the Council.
Wraith looked up from his kneeling position aside his bunk to check a clock of his on a small table he had set up in the room, which had only a lamp on it, and the clock itself. It read that he had half an hour before they would reach their appointed drop location, so he decided to program himself into the PPU.
Wraith plugged the PPU's input/output cord into a small outlet on the wall designed for that purpose. He lay down on his bunk, rustling backwards to shift his neck onto the pin that inserted into the back of his head, and he blinked.
As he opened his eyes again, he stood in a blank white space, with nothing but a small computer control panel a few feet away, shrouded by a ghostly glow. He strode up to it and looked down, seeing information about possible programs to utilize and modify.
Soaring around the keyboard with his fingers, Wraith managed to remove the datum that said this belonged to Webb and insert a datum proclaiming it now Wraith's in only a matter of seconds. He then proceeded to clear out all the programs and their usage and record histories, aside from the garden simulator, of course, and ported the terminal into the Last Prophecy's database drive, copying over a few programs he had previously stored there, including a martial arts tournament/trainer of Cosine's, a targeting range of Flash's, and a dojo simulator of Pike's.
Following that, he decided to prepare himself for the following mission, and opened up a new program file. The background around Wraith and the input terminal shifted to the dull gray that was the sky and backdrop in incomplete (purposely or otherwise) programs. Wraith began to command to terminal to input certain commands, structural and interactive, into the program. After what seemed a few moments, he had completed what seemed like a plain dark gray room, with no windows or doors. All that was there in the circular space was a black ceiling, and shadowy walls.
Feeling that to be too plain, Wraith added a few minor touches. He formed a courtyard of sorts outside the building, with grasses and high walls, and random weapons lying here and there, just for fun. He placed two doors in the room, on either side, which opened into opposite ends of the courtyard, and made the roof chain-link. In four parts around the room, the floor was a rounded rectangular grating, which, with enough pressure, would open down on hinges to fall into a pit of fire.
Much more fitting, he thought. Adding safety procedures for any humans who could be in the program, Wraith nearly finished. All that was left was…opposition.
Wraith's fingers flung rapidly around the terminal, and a visual image of Malcolm began to appear in the center of the room, where Wraith had previously added in large black lettering the letters "F" and "C" in a logo style.
Malcolm was stock still, standing totally erect and unmoving. Wraith called up visual records the Prophecy had made of their most recent fight with Malcolm, forming the shape of his body. He called up emotional and audio records to give him a ferocious presence. Finally, he called up physical monitors and cross-referenced it with processed strength and fortitude statistics of the Freeminds to calculate and approximate a relatively accurate formation of power that this false Malcolm would have.
Finally complete, Wraith pressed a voice-command button and the terminal disappeared as Wraith verbally saved the program under the filename "Malcolm v1.0".
He commanded by voice to begin the program, and Malcolm got into a fighting stance, backing away slightly to place himself opposite Wraith with the Freemind Commandoes logo in the midpoint between the two. Wraith set himself into a combat position and grit his teeth-
A buzzing sound came into Wraith's mind, a signal that someone was calling him from his PPU. He sighed. "Shut down program, eject users."
A second later Wraith looked up from his bunk to see RAM looking down on him. "Ve are zere," the young man said, and left the room. Wraith stood up, rubbing his neck. The PPU's weren't nearly as comfortable as the standard jack-in chairs, that was for sure.
Wraith again checked his clock, noting that a half hour had passed in what seemed only a few moments. He made his way to the bridge, passing the crew on the entry lounge, and looked over Cosine's shoulder at a series of readings, to which she seemed to be amazingly surprised at.
"What is it?" he asked her intuitively.
"Four of them," she said astonished, not removing her eyes from he station to look at Wraith, as if she had to make sure what she was looking at was true.
"Four of who…?" Wraith asked in return, but he feared in his mind that he knew who she was referring to. "Malcolm?"
She nodded in response, and hit a few keys, changing one of her crew-monitors to a view of the planet. She hit another series of keys, formatting over transmission the data on locations of separate Malcolm instances. One appeared each in different locations: central Canada, northern Ireland, the center of India, and finally in Japan.
Wraith contemplated for a moment. "Could it possibly be a trick? Maybe a deflective emanation from a central point? Maybe-"
"No," she cut him off, apparently scared enough to do so. "I've been checking those routes for the past half an hour, and if it were so, I would've found something by now."
Again Wraith considered trying a possible cause of the situation. But then it hit him. "He said there were five…"
"What? Who said?" his sister asked. Wraith explained to her that Malcolm had noted that there were five of them, and they couldn't beat them all.
"But there are only four," she replied, hoping herself it wasn't true.
"Well, we're getting no readings from where his glitch-realm was, in the eastern US," Wraith added. "Perhaps he's there."
She nodded, and continued. "Well, we should check it out."
Wraith thought of the proposition, then shook his head. "No," he stated, matter-of-factly. "We have a mission to complete. We'll go for these Malcolm's then get instructions on whatever's in that… Void."
Cosine nodded heavily. Wraith could see the stress was setting in on her. "What do they expect you to do?" she asked. "If you couldn't take down one, how are we supposed to wipe out four?"
"Well, for starters," Wraith said, looking up to the roof as he recalled his instructions, "we have our weapons now, seeing as how we detected no other Void and Malcolm appears to only control things within said Void, so he can't take them from us." She nodded thoughtfully, and he continued. "Plus," he added, "the Council said we'd be getting some 'extra help'. I don't know yet what that means, but I hope it's good."
She nodded, and he hugged her as he left to the entry lounge, where the rest of the crew awaited their jack-in to the Matrix for this mission. "Alright," Wraith said, clapping his hands, and setting himself in as Cosine followed to jack them all in. He explained to them quickly the situation and their orders.
Pike, as expected, protested. "Four? FOUR!?" he couldn't find words to describe what he apparently thought, so fell silent and leaned back into his chair, shaking his head.
"Can we do it," came Ice Fox's voice, to which Wraith simply nodded.
"How?" asked Lost Hope interrogatively.
"We're getting our weapons this time, and…help," he responded, and before Lost Hope could ask what kind of help, he said "I don't know what kind of help yet, but I was told the Council had to pull a lot of strings to get it for us."
With no other responses, Wraith nodded and leaned back. "Fine, let's move in, take him out, and move out again."
Then they all jacked in for round two with the Malcolm clones.
The clone of Malcolm stood, leaning on a wall, staring at nothing in particular. The group of Malcolms had agreed to just get him to wait for the Freeminds and fight them, seeing as how before a previous clone had no trouble with them.
He did have doubts though, knowing full well they'd be equipped with weaponry this time around, but still felt confident enough to take them out.
Until he heard the thunder, that is.
A rolling roar came from his left, in the small factory he stood in, and a hard wall crashed in, followed by a large tank. It stopped scanning the room, and the barrel swiveled over and down to face him as he jumped out from the wall and looked at it questioningly.
A figure hopped out of the top of the tank, equipped with two swords. Malcolm knew him as Cal Trinn.
Malcolm was afraid, but tried to keep it in, and spoke as menacingly as he could. "Ah, Mr. Trinn," he coolly said, as if there was nothing more than a cap gun aimed at him, rather than a heavy shell-launching mechanical beast. "Welcome to Winnipeg."
"Shut up," the small man said, and leapt down, charging at Malcolm, as the tank opened fire, followed by others leaping out the top.
Wraith watched everyone but himself and RAM out the top hatch of the tank, and patted his shoulder. "If worst comes to worst, RAM," he said, "Don't hesitate to leave again."
RAM looked at him without remorse. "I'd never leaf zee team," he said, and Wraith smiled, then leaped out of the vehicle. It rolled forward slightly as RAM sat at the controls preparing another shot towards Malcolm.
The rogue program had leaped away from the first shell, and was now firing rapidly at all the other Commandoes as he backed away, always keeping the tank barrel in the corner of his eye. Suddenly, Pike leaped out from nowhere and struck at him; Malcolm barely had time to pivot away and bring his airborne foot back to knock one of Pike's swords from his hands.
Wraith ran forwards, dual Berettas blazing, as Malcolm knocked Pike aside and twisted away from his bullets, going to draw the sword he had previously tossed aside. He reached it just as Wraith reached him, and Malcolm spun with the sword, aiming it at Wraith.
It was stopped by a thin golden glint. Trist, as Wraith had come to call Webb's former blade, was in his hands. He had made a pact with himself to use it, in Webb's memory.
Fortunately, for him the blade was of excellent make. Malcolm's katana became chipped on the blade as it struck Trist, and with a look resembling fear the clone looked up at Wraith. The gaze soon turned to anger. Malcolm brought his foot up and kicked Wraith square in the gut, sending him to the floor a good distance away.
He immediately rose, to see Malcolm surrounded by many of the others. Reminiscing back to the fight in the Void, Wraith recalled Malcolm's innate ability to subconsciously multi-task his blocking and hitting.
Malcolm spun to boot away Lost Hope, followed by Chess, and Pike. He faced Ice Fox, who lowered his fists, and leaped back, pulling out a thick barreled shotgun. Malcolm lunged towards him, and took a shotgun blast, which he nearly dodged. Two bullets became imbedded in his left leg, and a spurt of blood poured out of the wound to fountain onto Ice Fox and the floor.
Ice Fox laughed, and cocked the weapon for another blast. He fired, but Malcolm brought up his hand, and what appeared to be a vortex similar to the one he would disappear into arose in front of his palm and with lightning speed grew to the size of a large disk, with a three foot diameter. Alternating shades of blue appeared to flow towards the center.
Small tendrils that resembled blue lightning shot out of the center of the eddy, latching onto the bullets and stopping them; visibly the bullets began to stretch, and were sucked into the portal to disappear.
Ice Fox froze, stunned at whatever had happened. Malcolm threw his hand forward, and the vortex still hovered an inch in front of his palm-out hand. It enveloped the barrel of the shotgun, which stretched and shimmered, it's molecules of programming rushing into the vortex. To avoid being sucked in himself, Ice Fox let go of the weapon, and it too disappeared into the eddy.
All stood in disbelief as Malcolm chuckled, and with amazing speed the portal disappeared back into his palm as he reached forward to land a hard chop to Ice Fox's neck, incapacitating him.
Malcolm spun and blocked a high strike from Pike with his own blade, then delivered first a jab to Pike's abdomen, sending him careening over, then a hard roundhouse aimed for his temple, which sent him blasting off, skidding across the floor.
Chess ran forward to take his place, picking up the dropped sword, but Malcolm easily sliced hard enough to knock it away from her and elbow her away from himself as well.
Wraith and Lost Hope followed up together, sending chops, punches, and kicks at Malcolm from opposite sides, however the flank wasn't working. Malcolm had only to bring up his hands into a cross-block to stop a simultaneous high kick from both, then throw his legs out, tripping them into the air. Following up, he twisted around and gutted Lost Hope with his left fist, spinning back to catch Wraith in the chest with his foot as he lay on the ground, punting him across the floor.
Suddenly a hard blast roared from somewhere, and Malcolm brought his hand forward again, opening a vortex. The shell paused in midair before it, but the program appeared to be struggling, so he brought his other hand forward as well, dropping the sword and adding strength to the portal and doubling its size to a good six feet.
The shell coalesced into the portal and disappeared. Malcolm dropped his hands and sighed, panting lightly from the stress.
Bad move.
Wraith and the whole team rushed him, attacking viciously in melee combat. He struggled, but after awhile it was clear this was a standoff. Wraith hopped back from the group, drew out Trist, and launched himself up in bullet-time, coming down overhead of Malcolm. The clone roared and blasted the others away from him like he did in the Void.
As Wraith fell down to him, he could see the larger, rippling muscles the ascendance had given him. Malcolm looked up as Wraith fell, blade extended. He smirked and casually brought his forearm up to block.
Bad move. Again.
Apparently the remarkable programming of Trist was unknown to Malcolm, because the blade cleaved through his arm at the elbow, tossing it across the floor with a spatter of blood. Malcolm fell to one knee, roaring in anguish and grasping at the stump of his arm.
Wraith was preparing to follow up the attack with a decapitation, but Malcolm had quickly tripped him and rammed him aside. He knew the tank was preparing to fire again, so he hurried up to it, and placed his remaining hand on the lip of the barrel. Again the blue eddy appeared, and bolts of blue began to ripple and shimmer across the surface of the tank as it started to twist and morph in shape.
RAM was still inside.
Wraith was rushing towards the machine, preparing to help him escape the doomed machine. He apparently knew something was wrong too, because he leaped out of the top of the machine, and hopped off of it, just as it stretched and disappeared into the vortex, twisting into an odd shape to go into its three foot diameter.
Malcolm spun to face them all, roaring in anger. "You want a fight? Alright, you've got one!" He brought his hand up and held it above his head. Once again the portal appeared, but this time the blue was flowing outward to the edges of the disk, rather than to the middle.
Out of it the shotgun he had absorbed previously appeared, stretching into its normal shape and popping up a foot or so into the air. Malcolm released the vortex and caught the gun as it fell, then turned it on Pike. He blasted, but Pike was quick.
The pair of bullets that actually would have come in contact with him ricocheted off Pike's katana as it spun furiously like a helicopter blade, sending both shards of lead off in random directions. Pike brought his sword up, smirking, and swung it downwards.
Malcolm, however, was expecting that, and brought the shotgun up and turned it perpendicular to the blade, stopping it in its tracks. The program pushed upwards, sending Pike off balance with his katana, then swung the shotgun around to knock Pike away.
Chess and Lost Hope had caught up to Malcolm. He blasted at Chess, who knew it was coming and was already rolling out of the way. Lost Hope belted him in the side with a kick, sending him sprawling away, but he recovered his balance and came back at the Freemind, blocking a knee with his own and sending a head butting down onto Lost Hope, knocking him off balance, then all together kicked backwards at Chess who was now rising, and swung the gun in his hands forward at Lost Hope, throwing both into the air to land far away.
He turned on RAM and Ice Fox, who were approaching, and both lashed out with punches, to which he blocked most of what he could with only one arm. He knocked both back, and brought the shotgun forward, trained on RAM, then stopped. His face became emotionless, and he looked down at his chest.
The golden tip of a katana was extending out of it a full inch, but was now smeared maroon in blood. Malcolm looked back up at RAM and Lost Hope, who were staring at the tip of the blade.
"You may kill me now, but be sure you'll see me again," the program said, then fell forwards and died. Wraith stood behind him, looking down on the corpse. It turned into what appeared to be many thousands of small green lights, and they all split, floating off at high speeds in four different directions, passing through the Freemind Commandoes and the walls.
Trist clanged onto the floor, no longer being lodged into the program's back. Wraith stepped forward and picked it up, wiping the blood off on his sleeve.
Chess was already opening her cell phone to call Cosine, all the while staring at Trist. The two apparently were in a good friendly relationship, and Chess nodded many times as Cosine spoke to her.
"What do you think he meant?" asked Ice Fox, looking at the spot on the floor where Malcolm's corpse had been.
RAM voiced his opinion next: "And vat where those portals?"
Wraith looked up at the hole where the tank had entered. Snow was billowing in, carried by a harsh wind. "We'll talk to Zion and see…" and to that he added, "Damn, this place-Winnipeg, was it?-is cold. They should call it Winterpeg."