Layon was grumpily machining a small metal part when the Geno Saurers in the adjacent hangar started to fuss.
Most people viewed the rare beasts as imposing machines - which they were - but if you hung around hangars a lot, you'd notice they acted less like stately, centuries-old Zoids and more like large, gossip-prone hens. At least that was the case when it came to the sole company of one-another. The species divide between the three and every other Zoid seemed particularly steep, as they became stoic and contemptuous in the company of 'lessers.'
Layon didn't blame them. As some of the oldest Zoids in the hangar, they certainly seemed more astute than many of the mass-produced modern Zoids. Layon wished he could see the facilities in which Zoids used to be built.
The man lifted his safety glasses and glanced around as the Saurers' hissing intensified. They seemed excited. Or upset. Or both.
A second later, he knew why: the distinct shriek of the Berserk Fury echoed throughout the base. The Berserk Fury was supposedly an evolved Geno Saurer. So of course they'd be interested.
Layon put his glasses back down and started to work again. He finished the part, hummed to himself, brought it over to a scanner.
There was a lot of noise elsewhere in the base. Of the variety that didn't seem good for the various walls and doors.
Layon again paused, making sure the sounds weren't coming too close. They weren't.
The ruckus periodically caused by the Fury had simply become a ghoulish mainstay of the base. Almost everyone knew what was going on… they just preferred to ignore it, largely for fear of being conscripted into piloting the damn thing themselves. Hope remained that it would eventually removed from the place, just as abruptly and unexpectedly as it'd shown up.
After a few moments, Layon pulled the piece out of the scanning unit and walked over to the Shadow Fox.
The dark Zoid was quietly, loosely crouched, face pointing at the wall. It had lift chains under one haunch, and another set of chains from the ceiling suspended its flexible mount so as to reveal the many components beneath. This was clearly not restraint - this was repair.
The Fox was warily side-eyeing the direction of the Geno Saurers.
Layon carefully removed a component with a wrench and replaced it with the new one, leaning into bodily into a compartment for better reach. The Shadow Fox softly chirped and chuffed, barely perceptible were it not for the man's intimate proximity.
"Oh, hush. They're not gonna hurt you."
Louder chuff.
"There. This should be more durable. That other one fatigued real fast. Cheap Helcat part." Layon backed out and looked up at the Fox's underbelly thoughtfully. He tapped it with the wrench. "You've actually been causing a lot of weird wear with that damn gait of yours. Maybe..." Layon meandered back to the tool bench, thoughtful.
The Shadow Fox watched him silently. It visibly flinched at the sound of the Berserk Fury's renewed shrieking.
"Party out there," Layon mumbled, vaguely aware of but none-too-interested in what was going on.
It was a nice, coincidental bonus that Backdraft had happened to go after the very particular asshole who'd stolen his Fox. Because yes, Layon did want it back, but had given up any consideration of such that involved going up against the Blitz Team.
Now, though…
The Fox cocked its head and belted its full-on digital howl. It was ear-splittingly loud in the tiny space.
"Stoppp. You don't get to join in. You wouldn't want to anyways."
The Fox shifted uncomfortably but returned to its loose crouch. It softly keened instead.
"Don't worry. You'll be good as new in no time. Even better!" He tapped the wrench on the table, and rolled out several messy bits of paper. "So. I've been thinking…"
Brad didn't want to get out of the Fury: they pulled him out.
They slammed him down. He tried to fight, it was no use. Too weak, too hungry, too many people, too much force. To make matters worse, after being removed from the Zoid he felt pained, strangely spaced-out and tired. Like he'd left something behind and desperately needed to return for it.
He was on his back, on a gurney, his wrists and ankles bound with foam-lined restraints while forms and figures wearing surgical masks moved about him. Details were lost: people were mere shadows against bright lights from the ceiling. Someone took blood, yet another set up an IV line. Not one of them would look him in the eyes.
He incorrectly assumed that they'd at least let him rest.
Even a few seconds of sleep would've been a delight, but anytime Brad felt his eyelids droop they'd go out of their way to inject something that made sleep impossible. Adrenaline? Certainly felt like it. His heart raced with pointless panic.
He squinted his eyes shut, trying to block out the light. The longing for sleep intensified. It just wasn't available.
He realized with some consternation that the overwhelming need for sleep didn't feel much different than the now-constant pull towards the Fury itself. Tantalizing, irresistible, necessary. He could actually now faintly detect what he recognized as the Fury's touch in his mind. Cold, curious. Not unlike how he perceived the Fox - just far sharper, and with much more depth.
For lack of any other ally in this excruciating situation, he reached out to it.
I'm so tired.
What he'd felt was only a sliver of its attention. When more of its awareness shifted toward him, he found himself drowning in the beast's unending mire. That was fine.
~It is better this way. There will be rest when we are done.~
It sounded perfectly reasonable, but wasn't… similar to him having a casual mental conversation with a Zoid, distant or not.
But that water had gone under and far past the bridge at this point.
When are we done?
~When we destroy the Liger Zero and its pilot.~
Blue eyes opened slightly.
What?
~We cannot rest until they are no more.~
That seemed… outlandish. And unfortunate. And a lot of other descriptors Brad was too tired to articulate.
How 'bout... we just go wreck the Liger and call it good.
~No.~ Was the monosyllabic response.
Brad had lines, and drew them.
I'm not killing anyone.
The Zoid quirked a mental brow at him, pushing the memory of Brad shouting at Vega not long prior.
~You will. Not Vega, of course. But you will. It is the way of things.~
The statement was so plain, and so final, it held no room for argument. Brad's defiance flared, but was crushed by the Fury's indifference. There simply was no fighting its presence: a dark, cold, perpetual torrent across every thought he tried to have.
He felt the Fury be distracted for a few moments. Listening, it seemed, to something Brad couldn't hear. Then:
~They want us to practice. Because we cannot fail.~
Was that a statement of confidence or concern?
Brad honestly had little idea how much time did or didn't pass. He almost fell asleep, perhaps dozed… but that came to an end as someone jabbed something into his arm again. Awake! Painfully awake!
Once fully cognizant he found himself in the Fury's cockpit once more, being side-eyed by it from every mental angle.
He shivered - with cold, with adrenaline, with nervousness - as he blearily surveyed their surroundings. A small indoor arena. Clearly underground, as the height and breadth wasn't vast like a skydome's. No opponent yet. Just silence, the soft rumble of the Fury, and rhythmic, wavering whirr of servos in the Zoid's massive tail.
The man started to drift off again. He hated that this thing could be so comfortable.
He was snapped to attention by the Fury as a silver Command Wolf staggered into view. The smaller Zoid had been forced into the arena through a door that'd closed behind it. It was very obviously not interested in being there.
~We are to destroy them.~ The Fury stated, idly. ~There is doubt you will comply.~
Brad's throat worked uneasily as he watched the other Zoid. It was clear that the Wolf had a pilot.
"Who's the pilot?"
~It does not matter.~
The Fury surged forward. Brad's hesitation lessened as he went with it, his exhaustion wiped away and replaced with intense elation. Little shreds of intact thought were quite horrified by this, but he couldn't help it. He wanted- he needed to be this unstoppable force, not a defeated, exhausted heap.
Teeth, jaws, haunches - one quick motion. The Fury seized the middle of the Command Wolf while crushing its hindquarters downwards with its rear talons. Like a ravenous animal ripping into prey, the Berserk Fury shook its head and absolutely shredded the middle of the smaller Zoid. Harsher snaps and pops - armor and structure - gave way to the smoother grating of more delicate internal components. The slaughter culminated in the relative butter that was Zoid's middle drive components and Core. Everything was simply torn apart.
Within a minute the Wolf was unquestionably dead, and the Fury shook its carcass until the cockpit glass opened and the terrified pilot burst from within, trying to flee the unfair disaster.
The pilot wore a ZBGF uniform. In conjunction with the silver Wolf, it was easy to guess: some low-ranking patrol who'd run afoul of Backdraft in the forest. Wrong place, wrong time.
The Berserk Fury's dark snout traced the pilot's progress coldly, its intentions clear.
It was unfathomably barbaric to send a Zoid after anyone on the ground. It was one of the most taboo things on the planet, one of very few things subject to capital punishment on Zi, and a straight-up war crime, in the past.
~Let us kill him.~
"Uh- no. You're insane."
~We must.~
Painful to resist. That velvet depth and darkness just wanted to envelop every last sensation, the mental purr giving him both a gentle request and an unquestionable command. It was like fighting gravity - he eventually, simply wore out and had to give in.
Brad didn't remember the motion, just the result. He actually couldn't see it from the cockpit, and was distantly glad for that. But the Berserk Fury savored the crunch of sinew and bone and made sure Brad did as well.
Silence hung for a few seconds. Brad reeled with shock - disgusted, elated, panicked.
Only a few moments later, another small Zoid was thrust into view.
The same hesitation. The same terror.
The same fate.
It'd been a few hours.
A number of Zoids, a number of pilots. Thoroughly disposable units and individuals.
This was a test. One that only one other potential Fury pilot who'd survived to this point had gone through - and miserably failed. But not Brad. He'd 'succeeded.' If this could be considered success.
The man simply sat in the cockpit, stare distant and empty, shoulders and chest heaving with the passing exertion. The arena floor gleamed in places with both silver Zoid fluids and relatively small amounts of human blood. A ghastly but mesmerizing mix. Yet another Zoid clattered onto the arena floor, larger than most of the others. It rumbled and trilled, clearly acting under duress.
The Shadow Fox. It lifted its snout sharply, focused on the Berserk Fury's face, and tilted its head.
It knew. It tossed back its head with a howl.
The sound brought fleeting focus to Brad's eyes, and he blinked.
"...Fox? Fuck!"
He ripped his hands from the controls and tried to unbuckle his harness. "I'm not- I'm not -"
~We will destroy this Zoid as any other.~
"No."
Brad's disconnect and distraction irritated the Fury.
The Fox wasn't piloted. It'd been tossed in as an afterthought, mainly because Alteil was tired of having Layon try to convince him of the thing's merits. He'd heard that Layon was in possession of it once more, and not only that - wanted to 'improve' the damn thing. The Shadow Fox had plenty of time to prove itself in the Backdraft, and never really had. Alteil wasn't going to listen to that nonsense again.
Now the Zoid could at least be a little useful. As personal entertainment.
Alteil sat in a low armchair, sipping a scotch while dispassionately regarding the events below.
Above and to the rear of the indoor arena, shielded with thick glass, was what could only be described as a lounge - a viewing suite of sorts. It featured finely upholstered seating, pristine glass tables, and at the back were wall-length, plush sofas and a full bar. The lighting was low and soft, mainly provided by the softly shielded glow of LED bars. A bizarre nest of luxury, juxtaposed against the violence below.
Layon was present, but certainly hadn't been made aware of the Fox-related turn of events. When he heard it, he bolted to the window and gawked.
"What?! No! I just- it's not- it's worth more than this!"
Alteil didn't even spare Layon a glance. "Shut up."
"I put that thing together myself! You can't just- you can't just throw it into a goddamn meat grinder!"
"Or, you know. I can." Alteil motioned with his glass, and mildly shrugged.
Sara and Polta sat across the way on the wall-sofa, looking grim. Vega lay uneasily asleep beside Sara, his head on her lap.
The woman raised a critical brow at Layon. "You're more upset about a Zoid than you are people."
"It's my Zoid," Layon snapped, as if that was sufficient explanation.
The armorless Fury and the Shadow Fox studied each other for a long, tense moment. The Berserk Fury found deep gratification in watching Zoids shrink away in terror, which they typically did upon understanding what they faced. But the Fox just stared, gold eyeglass ablaze.
In that same moment, they mutually understood that they were not facing off against the usual. The Fury perceived the bizarre mental coil of the Fox's young AI, which effectively superseded the personality of the Zoid's natural Core. And the Fox perceived the dark Organoid rooted within the Berserk Fury itself.
The Berserk Fury craned its neck slightly. ~You are… unnatural. A freak.~
[Berserk Fury: Incomplete_ ] it replied.
~Not anymore.~
[Not. Yours._ ]
~You think you are an Evechild, freak?~
[Not. Understand._ ]
~Of course you don't.~
Brad made the effort to resist the Berserk Fury, but simply couldn't break away. The Fury charged forward and slammed into the Fox, the smaller Zoid managing to roll with the blow and bounce a few paces away. It shrilled angrily and flared its claws in threat, though it crouched - no, hunkered. A submissive action.
The Fox chuffed and chopped air with its teeth. [Not. Fight. No. Purpose. Give: Pilot._ ]
~There is always a purpose to fighting. That purpose is survival.~
The Fury charged again and snapped at one of the Fox's forelegs, but the Fox avoided the bite, bunched its body, and went bounding.
[Shadow Fox: does not: threaten Berserk Fury: survival!_ ]
~Of course not, freak. It is I that will end yours.~
The Fury spun and plowed into the Fox's path; the smaller Zoid tried to zig-zag around, but the Fury caught its underside with a lash of its tail. Struck armor splintered, but components weren't hit - the Shadow Fox squealed and rolled to a halt across the floor.
Layon had been watching, but he pointedly looked away. He was relatively fine with someone stealing his Zoid and actually using it. He was much less fine with countless hours of work being shredded for no goddamn reason.
But the scrappy Zoid didn't simply give up. It and the Fury's struggles were those of actual combat, not the one-sided symphonies of destruction that'd been going on before. It wasn't over in seconds; it wasn't over in minutes. Additional personnel of sufficient rank had gathered to watch also, curious.
They started making bets on how long it would take, as folks higher up in Backdraft were wont to do.
The Fox's weapon systems were disabled - as had unfairly been every other Zoid's previously in this situation. Likewise, the naked Fury had no functioning ranged weapons. This was pure, raw-metal melee combat - claws, teeth, and agility.
Vega became restless and awoke, looking pissed. He shot up from Sara's lap and stormed across the room, shoving past several people to stare down into the arena. "What's wrong with that Zoid?" He yelled, at no-one in particular. His face became grotesque, much less childlike and far more monstrous. "DIE ALREADY!"
Alteil eyed the child and downed the rest of his scotch.
Layon had resigned himself to a seat at the bar and was already a few drinks in. He glanced dully at Vega, then looked at Sara.
"What poor bastard's piloting the Shadow Fox?"
Sara was staring at Vega and only shook her head slightly.
"Nobody," Alteil grunted, sounding inconvenienced. "I have no ide-"
"What?!" Layon shot up and back to the window, suddenly frantic. " You've got to be- " He'd worked for ages trying to get a fully autonomous drive system set up on a Zoid, nevermind one that had the intelligence to fight, nevermind one that could fight well. He clutched his head and wailed.
His stupid magnum opus was in a Zoid that was currently about to be slaughtered by the resident murder machine.
"Vega, call it off!" He howled.
The child's bony fingers were taloned against the glass, his face trembling between discomfort and elation. He glanced at Layon with animal eyes, but they became slightly more human when his name was spoken. "Why?"
"Layon," Alteil warned.
Layon didn't possess the presence of mind to package an explanation, so he just blurted "PLEASE!"
Everyone in the room seemed equal parts baffled and uncomfortable. Which said something odd about them: a number of them had just watched several people die brutal deaths without qualm, but Layon's outburst over a doomed Zoid was somehow more disturbing. Possibly because he was so large, loud, and in the actual room.
Vega seemed to consider the request, but after a moment shook his head. He turned back to the arena, when the whole suite suddenly, briefly flickered with red.
It took several seconds for everyone to register: what appeared to be an Organoid stood there. It was also by the windows, a few yards from Vega, hunched and looking around with bright green optics.
Its body was a dingy crimson, webbed with cracks and damage. Its draconic, crested head sported similar damage - so severe, that what could've once been a noble visage lacked symmetry. The creature's head tilted back and forth as it took in the room.
No one did anything for several seconds more, shocked silent.
Everyone had only begun to register their alarm when they realized the Fury had stopped too: it was looking up at the suite, unable to see in from below but obviously sensing the commotion.
At the sudden sight of the Organoid, Vega's vicious demeanor was quickly replaced by that of a frightened child. The Fury's touch drained straight out of him, as did all color from his face. He staggered to retreat, but tripped backwards over his own gangly legs and plunked against the thick window.
The Berserk Fury shrieked up at the glass, rattling everything in the room.
People started to run. And scream.
The Organoid's head listed towards the Fury below. It stared at the angry Zoid, letting its spiked tail tap-and-scrape thoughtfully along the carpet. Vega distinctly heard the thing mutter to itself, though its words were in a thick, indecipherable language. The derogatory tone was universal, however.
It noticed Vega's notice and snapped green optics back to him.
Their gazes locked. Time stopped.
Something was profoundly wrong.
Vega couldn't place it, but this thing-
"An- an Organoid!" Layon stammered out, the first to find his voice. He glanced around, briefly convinced he'd gone insane. But the stunned stares of the remaining people in the room assuaged his fears. Well, that one anyways. "What- what happened to it?!"
A single gunshot rang out, deafeningly loud in the room's confines. Alteil had pulled a sleek, long-barreled revolver from his coat, and fired a clean shot at the unsuspecting creature. He was an alarmingly good shot, and the bullet went straight into the Organoid's thick upper torso.
It would've easily felled any human or animal. Even a very small Zoid might have faltered in the face of such a caliber and precision. But the Organoid just glanced at the bullethole and then Alteil, unfazed.
Alteil recoiled with dismay at the complete lack of effect, lifting the gun to fire again-
He didn't get the chance. The Organoid was across the room in an instant, slamming Alteil aside with a powerful, twisting sweep of its tail. The man didn't have time to register that this had completely broken his arm, before the Organoid slammed its full weight into him, shoving both into the glass-
-which fractured at length, the involved pane exploding outward with a horrifying screech and another bright flicker of red.
Alteil was probably dead on the first impact, but he was certainly dead after striking the ground below.
The Organoid had vanished.
Vega peered through the shattered glass, and Sara ran to his side, looking down.
She scowled at Alteil's body, ears ringing from his idiotic gunshot, mind refusing to process what she'd just seen, what'd just happened.
The Berserk Fury's blocky snout appeared and loomed below, taking up the two's entire field of view. Its massive fangs gleamed in a displaced, hanging beam of the arena's bright lighting - the Zoid strained to stretch its neck up towards the child, its head tilting.
"I'm fine," Vega said quietly. "I'm fine…"
The Fury had a strangely-concerned hiss emanating from it, and the sound disturbed Sara very much. Despite herself, she stepped back from the window and out of view. At least that was one problem taken care of. Potentially two.