CHAPTER 46
Diamond City.
Only after he had been forcibly operated upon by the mysterious group of 'Surgeons' as they called themselves- did Robert start to wear the coat and hood. He ALWAYS, wore the coat and hood. It was a safety precaution, a security that he needed in his new life- people who didn't know him, might see him as a threat.
Synthetic people had been given a pretty horrendous reputation after the Institute started sending out agents to murder people and replace them with artificial duplicates- because that hadn't always been a thing, and there had been and still were many synthetic folk who were not part of the Institute.
In the organization's early days- and, he only knew this because he had spoken with a handful of Synths that had actually been around to see it and tell of it -the Institute had the goal of rebuilding medical science and technology to a pre-War state, in order to piece back together human society, the synths were just more citizens to speed that along.
Yet when the years started to roll by, and the Institute found it harder to cooperate with people in ways they did not see fit, or effective- they started becoming more forceful in the manners of which they presented their arguments.
It started out pretty small- for awhile, people described the Institute as a bunch of- 'Pompous Assholes' -and -'Self-Endearing Big-heads'- far from the descriptions of boogeymen and spies that killed and replicated your loved ones.
There were some shootouts, people started telling Institute representatives to be on their way- and so the scientists and their population of synthetic people retreated somewhere underground- where that somewhere WAS, no one knew, and Robert doubted that ever changing.
The Institute, now cut off from their constant supply of diplomatic exchanges of technology samples, relics from before the War, freedom to traverse the surface and the steady flow of information and trust- turned to darker ways of acquiring what they needed to continue their work.
THIS, was what caused many synthetics to leave the Institute while they had the chance too- but after a few runaways, the Institute started mind-wiping their staffs of synths, deploying them as footsoldiers and guards- newer generations were made, like the Gen-2's and 3's, and rumors told of a mythical Gen-X model.
Having established themselves as a master of espionage and technological prowess- the Institute rarely fought its foes directly, resulting to more subtle acts of special operations, assassinations, sabotage, and skirmishing strikes to devastating effect.
This was what troubled Robert Cannary in the far rear reaches of his mind- it was a back-thought, because the thing he was most concerned with in the moment, was getting into the doorframe of the store, to avoid being chopped into little plastic pieces.
When the shooting started, the first thing Robert did was grab Jessy- and he tugged the two of them into the door arch of the building behind them- the one he and Sanford had cleared of goons- and the pair fell to the floor inside.
Laser fire cut through the air all over the place as the synthetic ground team was dropped right on top of their intended targets- Sanford and Hancock were the only ones to persist in the open for a moment- Sanford's rifle, and Hancock's plasma gun blaring wildly as they fell back for cover of their own.
Carbon energy burnt uselessly off of Sanford's suit a good few times- hitting him dead-center the cuirass, or by the improvised plating on his gut- and Hancock got nailed with a good few shots too- but of course, seeing as he had been upgraded by the engineering mind next to him so many times throughout the years- the shots weren't very effective.
"-IT'S LIKE A HAILSTORM OF DEATH-!" Hancock screamed- his thruster igniting- and giving off a deafening BANG! -and a flurry of sparks as he rocketed through the brick arch of the store.
Black smog belched everywhere in the form of a ludicrously accidental smoke-screen from the robot's dirty internals- Sanford was lost for a second in this pluming bushel of black that consumed the entire front bottom floor of the building's face.
He sprayed the remainder of his rifle's battery in a swaying motion to and fro- and then he slipped back inside the brick interior as the smoke started to dissipate.
Hancock had unintentionally given him some leeway. Again.
"-I'd say thanks-!" Sanford grunted, peering out the frame, switching sides of his battery on the gun. "-But you RAN on me! AGAIN!"
"IT WAS A TACTICALLY SOUND RELOCATION!" Hancock barked. "HOW DARE YOU ACCUSE ME OF FLEEING FROM A BUNCH OF PORCELAIN NAIL-CLIPPERS WITH LEGS!"
"Rob'! Get up!"
Robert and Jess' were flailing to get off of the floor- and the woman looked utterly even MORE angry than she had been to begin with- and the second the two of them were standing again, she spit at Robert's boot, and glared at him.
"...See that, Mr. Sanford? I love this gratitude." Robert shook his head, dusting his coat off, and checking the side of his .44.
"Take that back door," Sanford nodded at the rear entryway- it still had the dead guy Robert had shot laying on the other side. "Go get help from the city!"
"Roger that!" Robert said hurried, grabbing up Jess' hand.
"Get off me, prick!" She snarled- and then the two of them were out the green arch of the doorframe.
Sanford watched the back of the building for a bit- sighed, and peered over the side of the front frame again.
WHHSM!
-A red bolt of light flew inches past the cranium of his helmet, into the lobby of the store, and smacked into the wall back there.
Sanford pulled back, and growled.
"-They're gonna' pin us in here."
"LET'S BULL-RUSH 'EM!"
"I don't think that's a good idea, do you?" Sanford admonished as his robot prepped a missile in the chamber of his launcher.
"BONZAAAAIIIIIII'!"
-Maybe Hancock was onto something.
It was worth a try, they had no other options besides trying pot-shots, and the synths had them completely covered by this point, probably.
What the hell? A suicide charge might work.
Hancock stuck his launcher limb around the corner- and fired a single warhead that careened across the pavement out there, and landed smack-dab on the pod-device that had landed earlier.
BMMMMM!
-The white pod, and all the synths still gathered around it vanished in a plume of broiling fire and black smog- sparks flew, and something metal screamed.
Sanford went out first- he stepped outside the frame, and sprayed the whole blast zone with back-forth sweeps of his rifle as he waited for his scan filters to pinpoint specific targets.
PMPMPMPMPMPMPMPMPM
-A few outlines of humanoid, skinny figures were shown scrambling to get off of the ground around the pod- Sanford specifically aimed down the sights and pumped each one he saw with a quick burst.
Hancock flew right past him- and right up to the edges of the blackened cloud- he was laughing maniacally while this happened, mind you.
"-HAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA! EAT NAPALM YA' TROTSKY LOVERS!"
ffwwwWWWHHHHMMMM -Jets of lubricant-dashed flame shot forth into the smog- and Sanford saw a humanoid torch light up like a candle against all the black- the limbs jerked and flailed soundlessly, before the glowing figure collapsed on the ground in a whipping heap.
"GET 'EM, HAN'!" Sanford called out.
PMPMPMPMPMPMPM
CLAKCLAKCLAKCLAK
-...Soon, the smog started to whip away, the fires grew short and stubby to the pavement- the white pod was revealed, not so white and pristine anymore.
Sanford expected yet another field of bodies, with the centerpiece being a smashed device that had apparently allowed a group of synthetic soldiers to teleport themselves right on top of them.
When the smoke did settle entirely- he did find that there were bodies, a whole cluster of them, but, not nearly enough to warrant reasoning of the whole unit being wiped out- and the pod... Besides a big scorch mark and ragged dent staining the whole front of the blast plate, looked completely intact.
"...Aw that's BULLSHIT!" Hancock cried. "I wrecked that thing! I was robbed!"
Some of the destroyed synths were still sparking, or twitching- arms would move and make a whining sound of servos malfunctioning. Sanford swept his gaze about the street, down the way they had come beside Fenway.
There couldn't be more than five or six bodies in there... Some of the other synths must have relocated-
SSSHK! zzzzz- A synth suddenly appeared right in Hancock's face.
"-HOLY BALLS!" The robot jumped back, his engine flaring- the synth raised one of those strange robotic/holographic blades that acted as its left arm-
PMPMPMP
-And Sanford shot it in the head with a quick burst of lasers.
The robotic cranium popped open in a fleck of shredded electronics and metal- sparks whipped through the air, and the synth catapulted onto its side, twitched, and made a small whirring noise as the body stilled.
Hancock relaxed from his tight recline- he peered down at the body, saw the holographic blue of the blade flicker away, like a dying light-bulb would- and all that was left was the black pylon that had projected it from inside.
"Thanks for the save, sir!" He called over.
"Yeah-yeah, don't get your-"
SSSHK! zzzz-
SSSHK! SHHSK! SHHSK!
"-Shit-! HAN'! GET OUT OF THERE!"
"IT'S LIKE THAT ZOMBIE-GARAGE ALL OVER AGAIN!"
-Now there was ANOTHER cluster of synths standing around the pod- they all had their weapons raised, and Sanford did the first thing that came to mind, and he raised his gun for them-
WHM-WHM -And then a trio of red bolts flew right past his head, from above.
The man cursed loudly, he floored it back towards the shop- lasers scything through the air all around him, burning into the street, hitting the bricks- he flung himself behind the corner of the shop's flank- took a glance over the bricks, and saw in a second-story window of a nearby building- there were a pair of synths from the FIRST group that had taken up positions there.
These guys relocated faster than the Gunners. Damn.
Like a single machine, instead of a group of them- the synth squad that had been beamed in finished pinning the position Sanford had run off to, and they shot at wherever Hancock had hidden himself- then they broke into groups of twos and threes.
Sanford tried to aim around the bend to suppress them- but more shots clipping into the corner covering him forced him back down.
The synths spread out across the street- a pair of them went in the same building as the team before- three more kicked down a door and set up inside the lobby of another store- and three more were flanking down an alley.
Sanford saw a synth that looked more authorative than the ones around it- only through quick glances, at that- it had a holographic blade for its right arm, a Laser pistol in its right hand, and the synthetic plating making its body was bulkier at the limbs- it had a separate cuirass and a thin-visor helmet of white metal protecting it.
The synth stood by the teleporter pod in the middle of the street- Sanford could hear it making garbling, electronic sounds- it used its holographic blade to point, and wherever it pointed, a cluster of synths moved in that direction.
It must have been a leader of some kind, a sergeant, or a controller- he didn't know, but he needed to shoot it.
So Sanford waited for another interval- he propped round the corner, and sprayed the pod's area with a side arc- nothing too accurate.
Two other synths at the leader's sides were bolted down to the ground with ragged gashes ripping open their metal chests- the leader raised his bladed arm- and what Sanford saw immediately had him ducking back down.
A rectangular, curved field of blue, like what made the blades they were using- flickered to life around the synth's forearm- it looked like a translucent shield of aqua, textured with constantly flickering hexagonal patterns of bright white.
The shield was large enough that the synth was able to hide its entire slim form behind it- it fell to a knee- and all of Sanford's shots flecked away harmlessly around it, or off of the shield, which flashed vibrantly with each impact.
"...Holy shit." Sanford started changing the battery's side on his gun. "-They have SHIELDS?!" He hissed.
"-Hold on, SAN-FOOOORDD''!"
BMMM!
-The synth leader was now replaced with a great burst of fire and smoke- Hancock had launched a rocket.
"Nice shot, Han'-"
CHSSSK!
-Shattering glass from the building right next to where he hid.
Sanford looked up, and he saw two humanoid shadows falling a whole story towards him- millions of shards of destroyed glass formed a cloud that descended with them- the two synths, expressionless with their skull-like faces- fell to him wielding Laser rifles.
If the remains of the window they had jumped through weren't clattering all over the pavement- they would've landed silently- and so the two synthetic soldiers were up on their feet and aiming down the sights of their weapons- practically in Sanford's face.
He spun around and shot from the hip- advancing towards them in a run as he discharged his rifle- the one on the right toppled with misting crimson from a blackened belch of debris from its chest- the other took a hit in the arm- and it still managed a single shot one-handed that flew over Sanford's shoulder pauldron.
He was upon the robotic man in an instant- the synth dropped its gun and came at him with its fists.
Sanford tried to use the butt of his rifle as a blunt- he slammed the curved end right into the synth's chest- where the metal bucked, indented and cracked.
Stumbling back from the hit, the machine ducked, and side-wound right beneath his arms- Sanford was just turning to meet where the dodge landed it- and a fist cracked him right in the forehead of his helmet.
PNK!
-It was a loud slap of metal to metal- it made Sanford's ears ring, his neck jerk.
If he hadn't been wearing the headgear, the synth actually could've killed him with the amount of force its limbs were designed to cause when used for blunt force trauma- but Sanford was still able, and he had his OWN strength enhancements.
He wrapped an arm over the synth's scrawny hips- brought it in a heave to the left, and body-slammed the robotic warrior onto the pavement below him.
CLK-clkc-lck -The body didn't even sound like a real BODY had fallen- it was like if someone dashed a car-door on the street.
The synth made to stand, but Sanford raised his boot and brought it down on its chest- CRRKK! -the heel and toe penetrated all the way to the victim's back plating- sparks flew everywhere, and gears whined and screamed as the synthetic's limbs convulsed.
The head rose and fell repeatedly, bucking its cranium against the pavement- the whole time as the machine lost its ability to function- the expressionless, skeletal face remained upturned and locked on Sanford- still trying to process how to kill him even though it had already lost.
BM -Sanford spun around- and saw ANOTHER synth had landed from the window above- it stood in the center of the concrete a foot away from him- a holographic blade flickering at its left.
The synth's bare hand was clenched in a fist on the opposite side- the fingers flexed once, and it sounded like leather scrunching.
Sanford didn't even get to raise his weapon-
whm-whm-whm-
-The synthetic bolted at him in a full-on sprint.
Sanford switched hands with his rifle, holding it in the left- he yanked free his found cutlass from the other hip, pressed the rune on the hilt and heard the snapping whip of carbon energy coursing throughout the blade.
He hadn't locked melee weapons with someone in a while.
He hoped he still knew this good.
CSHK!
-Sanford brought the cutlass in a horizontal still before his face- and the synth's downward's chop was blocked- the holographic length bouncing off the red-tinted steel with a flash of light, and droplets of raw electricity flying about.
The synthetic paused for a moment, as if impressed- and then it rushed forwards again-
CHSKK!
CHSK-CHKK
CMM!
-Sanford was on the defensive here- he angled his sword left and right, slapped down a slash in either direction respectively.
ccCHSM!
-He caught the synth's blade as it arced in an uppercut- and then, the robotic man tore away, spun left- and Sanford was forced to take a step to the right- he angled his head back to distance himself as the holographic blade swiped parallel to the chin of his helmet.
"-WOAH-!" Sanford barked, stumbling back from the close call.
The synthetic warrior was coming at him again- when, perhaps with a little help from luck- Sanford saw movement in the window above that this robotic maniac's friends had jumped through earlier.
There was ANOTHER one up there- and this one just aimed a rifle down at him, not even risking getting close.
Sanford chose that brief interval of freedom he had with his gun- to raise his left arm and spray the window sill with fire instead of the charging melee combatant.
The synth in the window was tossed back with a vertically hacked chunk of its head burnt off.
CHHSM! -Sanford parried the first swing- that sent the synth angling down to the left-
wwhm-WHM-CLAK!
"-AUGH!"
The synth's entire torso rotated on the gyro pivot built into each of its thigh bases- used its one grounded foot for support, and brought its bunched heel in a long arc, so that it could, bluntly, kick Sanford in the face.
Again, the force that these machines were able to implement with physical hits was appalling- Sanford reeled off to the side, and the synth regained its footing.
"-GOD-DAMNIT-FUCK YOU!"
cccHHHRSKKK! zzzzzzzzzz...
-The synth lunged at him, and literally ran itself through on his sword.
Sanford had the weapon brandished two-handed from the hip- he snarled underneath his helmet at the expressionless mug of the synthetic as its arms and legs splayed on either side of himself- and all started twitching and writhing.
The sword was jutting out the synth's back- all the way through- a tower of crimson metal breaking from a blackened, sparking fissure in the white metals making its torso.
Sanford brought the connection to the side- swinging the corpse off the weapon, where it rolled on the ground, twitched, and then stilled- the holographic blade flickering away on its left arm.
Sanford examined the inhuman body for a brief moment.
-Then he looked up, and sprayed two more synths that jumped out with weapons primed.
PMPMPMPMPMPMPMPM
-The two bodies crumpled, steaming, ragged.
Lowering his gun, he rolled his shoulders and stomped back towards where the pod was.
He was DONE, with this shit today. Institute or not.
-0-0-0-0-0-
All the talk Sanford had made on synthetics was very short, and it wasn't frequent- and even the rumors and stories she had been exposed to, were very short, and not frequent too- seeing as she didn't exactly have the options to talk to lot of people.
But everything she had heard, all pointed to synthetics being- 'Misunderstood' -and becoming generalized as child-killing monsters based on the actions of the mythical 'Institute'- an organization of pre-War science and technology that created them for its own use.
In comparison to the amount of time she had spent by D.C., her life in the Commonwealth wasn't very illustrious- it was a lot of walking, relocating, dreadfully boring days and sleepless nights- not once throughout the whole thing had she heard or seen anything from the Institute.
She'd bypassed militiamen, she'd bypassed travelers and merchants, she'd even bypassed small groups of Brotherhood that had entered Boston in sporadic scouting missions- but never, had she seen a group of synthetic soldiers.
Today was different, today, was A LOT, different.
Not only had she seen them, and them her- but the synths were trying to kill her.
The first one that stepped out of the pod had been her trepidation of simply slicing through all of them- she'd stood there in awe before the skull-like face of the synth, and she'd wondered if there actually was another possibility besides yet another fight.
Those hopes were stepped on in the following tustle.
Five or six of its fellows were stepping down from the ajar containment cells hanging from the ceiling- they all were pristine in their physical look- they had synthetic metal carved to look like curving human flesh- bugging electronic eyes.
They thudded onto the metal flooring and they all similarly started to throw themselves at her.
She backed off, raising her arms up to avoid the grappling fingers of one of the androids as it hurled straight past her, rolled on the decking in an expertly timed recovery- it skidded on its heels and both hands, clambered about, and was coming at her again.
They obviously weren't friendly, time to fight. AGAIN.
Was this all Sanford the connard', and that screaming machine did? Was fight? Kill? This was insane.
Splaying her clawed fingers- she swept left in a blindingly fast slash- and a synthetic clambered onto the floor with its mechanical chest torn open in five trenches that sparked and belched black trails of soot.
She brought her head back- a mechanical fist formed a tiny breeze past the tip of her nose- she lashed out with a backhand, caught the synth in the ribs, saw the body tumble before her- she finished it by bringing down her right claw and impaling it through the back, her nails reaching the floor beneath.
She tore away- slashed left, then right- SWK! ssshHSK! -The Deathclaw looped around, felt the ambience of another fly over her head as it attempted to grapple over her neck- she spun over and ran the synth through the base of its waist with her right fingers.
CLLKC! ccskskc...zzzz..
The android convulsed and made mechanical screams of malfunctioning cogs- she sneered, and flicked the body off of her hand, where it face-planted on the floor.
"-AGH-! GET- OFF OF ME-!" -A synth landed right over her back- and, given their size as normal humans- the strength of the arms that wrapped over her neck was immense, it was shocking.
The synthetic squeezed over her throat- she felt her mouth contract, and suddenly, she couldn't get air into her windpipe- pain overrode her gullet's senses.
She went bug-eyed- coughed, and brought her claws over her shoulders- she grabbed up the synth's head- and she tugged, hard.
CRSK-!
-She opened her palm and tossed the torn-off noggin like it was a sports ball- it bounced off the wall nearby and rolled away.
-But she was still unable to breathe.
The headless body- it's legs now flailing behind her as she shook her shoulders like a dog- was STILL holding onto her.
She got angry- reached up again, gripped the arms over her throat, working her nails under them- and she tugged forwards.
-CLK! whm-whm...
-The mechanical limbs severed at the elbows and clattered past her knees in several pieces- the body slid off of her and slouched onto the floor.
She gasped, the oxygen dazing her for a second- she blocked the doorway out of the chamber with her girth, blinking a few times to clear her hazy vision- she looked up at the casks now violently swaying back and forth up at the roof of the cell.
To her shock, they were all open- steaming, and unused.
She looked down at the floor.
-It was carpeted with the discarded lids, and a dozen shredded remains of Institute synthetics.
She had slaughtered them.
Taking a moment to compose herself- she kept her mouth open as she breathed, because of the soreness from getting strangled- she cuffed a knuckle to rub about her neck.
...If these synths had been activated by what that freak had done- and, she couldn't even see his body anywhere in there, as it was buried -what was to say that the men Sanford was going after weren't getting help of their own from this mysterious Institute?
...A sudden pit of dread formed in her gut, and it fell to her heels and stayed there.
Sanford may have made her angry- but she didn't want him to die. Not at all- in fact...
-She needed to find him.
Something wasn't right about this.
Something hadn't been right before, and something wasn't right now. Sanford was in trouble, she just knew it.
It took the Deathclaw all but fifteen seconds to dash out into the tunnelways, reach the concrete flight of steps, swing through the entrance wing, right past the Triceratops skeleton- and then-
clk-CRSSHHHH-!
-She shoulder-slammed right through the front doors of the establishment, into the garden sections outside.
The reptile practically flew down the stairs on all fours- glass flittering all over the place, several feet where she had put a brand new hole in the old metal frames of the doors.
She skidded right- and she aimed for the bridge, into the deeper portions of Boston.
Pre-War, she would've never have reached Fenway in time for what she feared.
But in the world that man had depopulated and ruined- she scythed through Boston City like a cleaver through custard. Sanford had always said it.
She was God-damn fast.
-0-0-0-0-0-
"-AHAHAHHAHAHAHA! YYYYARRGG-!"
bbbbbbzzzZZZZMMM- CLK clcklckclkc
"-TASTE THE FURY OF MY BUZZSAW, BITCH!"
-Hancock drew the blade in a spark-vomiting drag right down the synth's waist- and the two halves hurled away to the side, clattering onto the ground.
CLAKCLAK
-Two bolts of plasma whacked into the chest of another synth, and that one fell back with its rifle spattering the air with red bolts.
"I'M UNSTOPPABLE! AH-HA! HA-HA! C'MON, WHERE'S THE SURVIVORS?! I'LL EAT THEM!"
The robot excitedly flew over the quad of wrecked Institute soldiers he had butchered- he had scans running, and the scans were showing the numbers of their attackers gradually diminishing as the fight drew on.
A bolt of crimson smacked dead center his chassis-
CRRK!
-it left a burnt dent, and magma-colored sparks kicked off at an angle.
"-You sister-slappin' son of a bitch! SAY HELLO TO CLARICE!"
SSHHM-
-BMMMMMM!
-A blast of smoke, falling bricks, and collapsing concrete vomited from the side of a building nearby as Hancock obliterated the window sill his attackers had shot at him from.
The Mr. Gutsy cackled maniacally.
"WOOOOOO! Oooooohhh-yyyYYYEEAAHHH, BABY! HA-HA! This is the life, right here! RIGHT HERE!"
-Hancock didn't have to go far in his hovering travels ahead- he heard gunfire, Laser fire specifically- the shrieks of broken metals- and right as he went to round a corner, a synth with a pair of holes bigger than a man's fist blown in its chest, toppled onto the street with soot trailing from its wounds.
The robot stopped short, looked down at the body as it stilled- and then glanced up as Sanford stormed over, stood before the casualty, and switched the coils on his gun's battery.
Sanford was sneering down at the wrecked android- practically growling -he noticed Hancock floating there, and nodded.
"-I'm runnin' out of targets here, Han'."
"That's the spirit! EXTERMINATION!"
"You see a leader synth around?"
"By the pod, yes sir!"
"After that?"
"Negatory!"
"Ugh."
"We're unstoppable! We're like the ultimate team of Democracy! We're like if Captain America boinked Uncle Sam and they somehow transmuted their combined genes into a bald eagle and then the kid shot out and screamed- 'FOR LIBERTY!' -THAT'S US! U.S.A! U.S.A! U.S...A... U.S.A... Why the fuck are you looking at me like that?"
"...No reason," Sanford blinked, looking around again. "-I really want to put a cap in that sucker from before, you sure your scans aren't-?"
"-WHAT IS IT WITH YOU, AND QUESTIONING MY SCANS?! YOU INSOLENT ASSCLOWN!"
"-Damn it, man! Quit yelling! They already know we're-"
PMK-!
-All at once, something practically flicked Hancock away like a fly.
The robot flailed down onto the street- clattered around, and rose all three ocu-lenses upwards- calling out-
"-MAN DOWN!"
-And came face-to-face, with a six-foot tall, armored, bulky, synthetic squad commander.
The larger android did not pay any heed to Sanford in the split second it had appeared- it raised its holographic blade, and brought it down towards Hancock on the ground, at its feet.
Sanford saw this unfolding- and without really thinking it, he realized his greatest friend was about to be hacked in half right in front of him.
Sanford was wordless- he surged forwards.
CLK!- His armored arms hooked over the synthetic's waist- and the two of them tumbled to the street.
CLM-CLmclmclmc...
-Sanford tried to pin the flailing android underneath the weight of his armor's legs- he had his rifle in his left gauntlet- the right, he focused on pinning the synth's blade arm with at the elbow joint.
clm! clm! clm! -The android's other fist slapped repeatedly into Sanford's pauldron in a futile attempt to gain traction in the deathly fight- but the enraged human kept his stance over his enemy- he shoved the Laser rifle's butt right underneath the chin of the machine's head-
clk
-And then he held down the trigger.
PMPMPMPM-CLLAAKAKK! ZZZ-zzzzzzz-ZZ-zzzzzz...
-The big synthetic twitched, and writhed- the limbs went limp, the feet stopped kicking, the cogs and gears went silent.
Sanford sat on the chest of a 'Corpse' of sorts- its head blown open like a blackened, metallic melon, that disgorged ruin across the pavement ahead and all over.
"...Agh," Sanford sighed, leaning back, the suit, and the dead synth- creaking as he did so. "...God damn it, I need a holiday."
"That was horribly anti-climactic!" Hancock commented from over his shoulder. "These Institute jerk-offs SUCK! What a bunch of Commie' supported noobs!"
"...Yeah, you're welcome." Sanford chuckled.
CLK
-clcmlcmlcmclmcm...
...Was that another synth?
Sanford winced when indeed, another synth- tossed out from an alleyway a few feet ahead- the only problem was, it didn't land oh-so-gracefully on its feet, and it was torn clean in half.
The machine kicked across the street, settled in the middle of it, and sparked quietly, the arms twitching.
The two heroes watched this transpire without a comment to it- Sanford stood off of the wrecked squad leader, the body jerking, and grinding against the pavement as it shifted from his weight.
He took up his rifle two-handed, and glanced at Hancock.
"...What the hell did THAT?"
"Maybe it's-" PM-pmpm... Clk- "-LIZARD GIRL! There she is! She followed us like the turd she is, sir!"
"Ms. Angrypants? What are you doing here!" Sanford chuckled, and turned around back to the wrecked synth halves ahead.
-A great mass of dark scaled, prehensile and bulky figure, had zipped out from the alley it had mauled the synth in- a tall, imposing, growling reptile of bioengineered perfection for killing and hunting.
The Deathclaw bent over on its leathery legs and prodded at the corpse of the android- making a tiny, deep moan in seeming disappointment to the lack of blood, and spilled innards.
Sanford would've continued to call out to it, to HER, but... Something seemed... Not right.
He watched the creature with a sort of horrified fascination, of half-realization.
...Had her scales always been THAT dark?
Had her horns always been that big, that ram-like?
And the spines running down her back looked a whole lot bigger than usual... When did she start growling like that?
"...H-Hey, tootse'?" Sanford mumbled.
"...Uhhhhhhh, sir? Perhaps we should oh, maybe... BACK UP?!" Hancock barked.
The creature stood not nearly seven feet tall, but a complete, whopping EIGHT feet tall- it tossed away the legs and pelvis of the synth with a dismissive casting of its claw- and then, it turned its head over its calloused shoulder, and glared right at Sanford.
...Those eyes were crimson. Not yellow.
And that face... That face was hideous. It had a huge underbite, scars all over, callouses and patches of roughly regrown out-of-place scales- a mesh of tiny thorns growing in a pattern over its temples and across its cranium.
The Deathclaw's nostrils flared, and he heard the snarling breath kick out from where he stood.
Its feet thudded against the concrete as it turned completely around- exposing an alien blend of human musculature, mixed with the sinewy sleekness of a reptile, to create a built torso that supported a thin waist, vein-riddled, scaly thighs- and a pair of arms that grew thicker at the fore from the elbow.
ssSHK -The reptile's nails grew larger as the muscles in its fingers relaxed.
"...Oh shit..." Sanford swallowed, suddenly taking a step back. "...Oh SHIT..."
"YEP! Called it! WRONG DEATHCLAW! TIME TO RUN!" Hancock panicked. "EVERYBODY STAY CALM, AND RUN IN CIRCLES!"
The Deathclaw's chops curled back in a canine-like sneer- it exposed a row of sharp teeth that were thicker, and yellower than the ones he had come to know over the last few weeks.
-And frighteningly, Sanford even knew what KIND he was looking at as he realized more and more, that he had grown too complacent with his companion of late.
It was a male, a really big, ANGRY, male.
This boy knew his shit too- all the scars, some of them looked like bullet wounds, the calloused hide that had developed over a lifetime of hardships and brutally won triumphs- an alpha bull.
This was a set back.
Sanford thought about never being able to apologize to her for their stupid little argument earlier.
-But his sentimental nonsense was gone from his mind the second the Deathclaw opened its maw, and HOWLED at him raggedly.
The beast surged forwards.
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