THIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THE SAVY AU. THIS IS A FOSSIL ONESHOT I DUG UP AND IT FIT THIS THEME FROM THE LIST.
Yikes this is old. I think this is still posted on my old account. xP (so if you see it further in the section, it's mine i just edited a few things. I posted it on the NOS board in 2010, so I can prove it lol.) I've edited it up a bit, but it's still..bleh. I APOLOGIZE I AM TRYING TO GET BACK INTO WRITING WITH THESE CHARS OUTSIDE OF TUMBLR RPING.
As to this, eh, I felt like it? I still don't like the fact there's this huge 'wait a minute what happened' between the Slayer and the next Nos episode, so I like to write stuff about it I guess? ONE OF THE MANY THINGS. I will admit here I like nos vs savy and nos vs ty and all of them I like writing the most lol. ...yes though run away from this chapter.
Time to power down Nos-4-a2- permanently!
He remembered feeding. He remembered Buzz Lightyear. He remembered… little one, beside him now. And he remembered an annoying little girl.
A girl that was standing over the ship, staring down at him.
A girl that was driving something into his randometer; a weapon that broke straight through into his power grid.
He became aware of an intense pain ripping through his chest as a blunt object smashed through the first layer of alloy; feel it burst through his randometer, and an immense surge of power flee his body amidst the severe pangs. A hundred warning signs went off at once, messages blaring obnoxiously through his motherboard that only served to make the pain worse.
He could hear the cries of pain escape him- his feral shriek echoing throughout the sewers, before fading to silence as his strength left him.
Nos-4-a2's optics sprung open, burning redder now than they ever had. The girl was driving the stake deeper with every passing second- the grim expression on her face evidence she would not stop. She was the cause of his pain, she would kill him if he did not stop her first, she had to be destroyed!
The vampire hissed at her image, clawed fingers poised to rip into her throat to make his pain stop.
He lunged with surprising strength, given how little he had left.
His entire frame jolted, and his wings even popped themselves out of his back. He would soar out of the coffin, sink his claws into her delicate little neck, and crush her against the nearest wall. Yes, that would stop her and the pain. That was what instinct told him.
It was wrong.
Instead of colliding with his adversary he fell to the floor, pitifully. His wings refused to fully open, not enough power in his systems for them to prove useful. His claws gripped at the dirty concrete, digging harshly into it as his wound cried out excruciatingly.
Another hiss escaped him, his mind still inclined toward a more feral nature as his systems struggled to reboot. His logic was restoring itself bit by bit, though he regretted that fact as his mind found it appropriate to chide him for such a foolish action before bothering to test how deeply the wounds ran.
As the pain diluted briefly he pulled himself up as best he could, taking in his surroundings. His larger optic ran a diagnostic scan of the area, and came to a single conclusion:
He was alone.
Little one and Lightyear were gone. So was that girl.
Pity.
He very much wanted to get his hands on the lot of them, to teach those wretches a painful lesson. Especially when the diagnostics on the level of his wounds came back.
He had died. Not for a moment before coming back online, he had truly gone offline. She had killed him.
How he had returned was thanks to Zurg. An emergency power grid had been installed elsewhere within his body- one that was weaker than his normal. It got the job done however, geared to activate only if he had been terminated. Presumably as a last ditch effort to give him enough power for one final strike against Lightyear.
That it was on now told him enough. It was his only source of power; the weapon had drained his others completely dry.
His optics whirred as his gaze drifted to his chest, observing the wound for himself. The energy absorption stake was still stuck in his chest, while a blue liquid trickled out of the damaged wires and onto the floor.
Nos-4-a2 snarled at the thought of her. That little brat! That she, a mere child should have killed him-it was unacceptable! He was one of the most respected villains in the universe! To think he had met any end by a street punk… It was sickening, and excessively painful to his pride.
Revenge would come later. For now, he would have to satisfy himself with simply surviving. He would feed, and little by little he could restore his power. Providing he removed the nuisance, first.
Gingerly, he clutched the stake- first with one hand, then the other. He considered the pain this would bring for a moment, and only a moment, before he pulled it out with one swift lurch.
The vampire screamed again, the pain absolutely unbearable as more fluid leaked from the wound. The removal of the object made the sensation worse- as he had anticipated it would- but to leave it in would've been a bigger mistake.
His optics burned again, diagnostics running to find prey. He needed to feed. Anger still burned over what had happened here, he wanted his revenge, he would have it someday...But he would wait. Feeding was more important now. If he didn't, he would die once more. Then they would win again.
He could not allow that.
He would survive. He had to.
Defeat was unacceptable.