EX Skill notice- Remember that attack where Omega slashes a fiery wave upwards? Although officially Ryuenjin, I'm going to call that Burning Sky Blade (which I'm actually sure is somewhat accurate? It roughly translates to Dragon Flame Blade, so I'm not too far off XD).
The light of morning was fresh and virgin. It cautiously crept forwards, forcing the night to back away. Somewhere in Legion, around a circular table, every single Mega Man still in existence sat, silent and solemn. Both Masters, The lion-like Thomas and he scholarly Mikhail, were also there. Siarnaq's tale had finished hours ago, the implications of it still heavy in the minds of all. Discussions of what should be done, however, raged on.
"I still say we should just grab the bastard while he's asleep and put him in a cell! If you're all so worried about him, then just lock him up!" Atlas fumed inwardly, tired of the banter.
"It wouldn't be that easy," Aeolus pointed out, his voice as haughty as ever, "or have you forgotten already? He ripped out and snapped a metal wall beam that Siarnaq could barely break! If there'seven a slight chance he could prove as strong as us Mega Men-"
Thetis cut in, "That's a load of bull and you know it, Aeolus! The whole building was old, the support beam was weakened from age! No one can be as strong as a Mega Man, and that's that! Only thing that can come remotely close are pseudoroids, and seeing as none of us has ever been bested by one, even they are no match. Mega men are-"
"Impervious? Undefeatable? Immortal? Good lord, you sound just like Albert." sneered Ashe. All of the arguers stopped immediately at the mention of the heretical name. Ashe, quiet until now because of her injury and general nonchalance for the situation, was done being only a witness. "Look, Thetis, all of you in fact, I learned my lesson not one week ago. We Mega Men are nowhere near being untouchable. I hate to be the one to say it, but I nearly died because I got cocky and thought the world couldn't lay a finger one me. Guess what? It did. What's to say that this guy isn't as powerful as us? He doesn't have biometal from what we know, but then again, what do we know? Masters, you haven't told us it yet, but I can tell from the look on your faces. You checked every database in existence for data on him and found nothing useful, didn't you?"
All of the Mega Men turned expectantly to the Masters. Nodding regrettably, Thomas confirmed her suspicions.
"Yes. Despite our searches, nothing has come up in any government databases, not even ours. The only information we have is intel gathered from the hunters around Hunter's Camp. Even then, the earliest anyone knows anything about him is from the day after the Ouroboros crashed. It's quite disturbing, to say the least," Mikhail explained.
"Yeah, not knowing where he's from, who built him, when he was built, hell, not knowing if he's even a reploid or not! And then he goes and decimates a building just because he got angry... it's a good thing we decided to survey him first," Vent put in.
"Speaking of which," Grey asked, "wasn't Pandora going to do some sort of surveillance with him tomorrow?"
Everyone looked at him for a second, unsure of what he meant. Then Pandora giggled.
"Oh, you're talking about our date, aren't you?"
"You got a date with him?" Aeolus asked, slightly shocked.
Prometheus scowled, "Yes, she did. But after hearing about what happened shortly after that to that old building, I'm not so sure you should go out on it any more, sis. He's way too dangerous!"
"I'll be alright, brother, I can take care of myself. Besides, if I tell him that I'm in a witness protection program, he won't be as willing to try anything. In case you haven't noticed, he likes to stay under the radar. I'm pretty sure that the thought of having the law out for his head because he killed the wrong person wouldn't be so appealing to him."
"But still-" her brother protested.
"Come on Prometheus, quit being such a worry wart. It's just a date!" Pandora smiled. Her brother grumbled under his breath, but remained largely silent. Aile laughed.
"My gosh, I never thought I'd see the day that rash ole' Prometheus could be called a worry wart! Ahahahaha!" She kept laughing, and it caught on. Soon all but two in the room were chortling. Everyone's worry seemed to lift away, and eventually, even Prometheus snickered a bit.
"'Tis a bit uncharacteristic of me, isn't it?" he joked. The group kept laughing for a while, until their jolly mood was interrupted by Siarnaq's emotionless voice.
"INQUIRY; WHAT IS RECOMMENDED SURVEILLANCE SCHEDULE FOR SUBJECT UNKNOWN?"
The happy mood left instantly. Even though his name wasn't yet known by the mega men, the mere mention of Omega sapped away all happiness. Mikhail coughed.
"Well, I think the best thing to do would be to work in shifts. Siarnaq, you're good at surveillance. Perhaps you wouldn't mind taking the night shifts? We could rotate the day ones amongst everyone else."
Siarnaq nodded immediately. He loved the night, when no one else was about (not that anyone else knew that). The others thought for varied periods of time, then agreed as well.
"Well then, it's settled. We'll begin organizing the shifts right now."
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
Birds twittered gaily as Omega awoke. Stiffly he moved his neck from its awkward position on the Harbinger's leg, blinking against the stale air in the dark hangar. Ever so slowly, he rose from his position, stretching his metallic frame to loosen his unyielding joints. He walked to the nearest window, grasping the tattered curtains. He opened them with a swish to let in the light of day.
The bright rays did more than let themselves in. They assaulted Omega promptly, forcing him to back off from their glare. He shut the curtains quickly. There was too much light outside for it to be early morning. Just how long had he slept?
Omega began pacing worriedly,hismind confounded by the issue of his upcoming 'date'. His internal clock said that it was sometime just before noon. Even if he managed to find a good-paying job before too long, how much time would it take to complete? Damn that White... His fists clenched in anger and worry. Wait a minute... Why didn't he just drop her flat? She'd forced him into this date, so why should he bother putting up with her? He grinned, but then the grin faded. She knew where he lived, and if he didn't show up to the date, no doubt she would cause living hell for him. After two hundred years of solitude, Omega had no clue how he would be able to deal with the complete opposite without going nuts. Which was always fun, he supposed, but the consequences after that probably wouldn't be.
He sighed heavily, growling to the heavens blocked from his view by the ceiling of the hangar. He paced some more, fully aware that every step he took was one step further away from reaching his goal. He grimaced, angry at himself for being so out of ideas. With a clunk, he fell against the side of his home, leaning to think more clearly. Not being one for thinking, however, he began fiddling around with things from the vaguely visible un-bloodstained parts of his shirt, to the various pockets on his slightly ripped pants. Nuts, he'd be needing more clothes soon... And what would that cost?
Omega's hands slipped inside of the two main pockets. It had cost him a fair bit for his last outfit, maybe if he had any money left after the datehe could get some new clothes again-
He leaped with surprise as if he'd been bit. Omega put his hand back into his pocket, trying to figure out what the strange object in it was. Bringing it out, he saw that it was, of all things, the card that Alfredo had given him.
Omega's mind was made up instantly as he read the information on the piece of plastic. Now all he needed was to contact the raider without alerting any authorities. No doubt the market would be a great place for that! Too many people for any of them to be worried about what he was doing, all he had to do was "borrow" a communicator for a couple of minutes and Alfredo would be over to pick him up.
Putting the card back into his pocket, Omega double checked that all of the hangar's windows were locked before he left. As he closed the door behind him, he resolved o get a proper padlock for it. When he turned to head, he saw a glimpse of something on the rooftop opposite his hangar.
Omega's instincts went into alert mode immediately. He stared at the roof for a minute, then resolved to let whatever it was there be. It could've been a bird, but if it wasn't, he was fully ready for it. As he trotted down the dusty road towards the market, he looked at whatever reflective surface he could find in hopes that it would reveal his stalker. Only once did it work. It was enough for him, though, and he increased his speed.
Once the stalls of the market began to come into view, Omega immersed himself into the crowd around them as fast as possible. Then the game began. Whoever was watching him had to have been on the one building nearest the market, in which case they only had one viewpoint. And if they hadn't lost sight of him already, would be hard pressed to keep track of him. Cautiously making his way closer and closer to the center of the market, the Devil Reploid watched for any big crowds in which to immerse himself.
It didn't take long for Omega to find one. As he played around with the contents of a hat store, a group of giggling teenagers headed his way. Omega looked at the hats, noticing their low price. He picked up a black one, then paid the clerk just as the girls were coming near them. Just as they arrived he kicked a rock discreetly into the stall beside him. The clang distracted the clerk. Omega swiftly switched the black hat for, of all colours, a pink one, put it on, bent his knees, and slipped unnoticed into a small space in the group of teenagers. The exchange took about three seconds total, and the stupid girls clamoring with each other hadn't noticed. Perhaps it wasa school group;most seemed content to keep to little cliquesanyways. For several minutes he walked with them, keeping his height shortened the whole time. Another opportunity suddenly presented itself. He rolled, taking off the hat and arriving behind an unattended stall at the same time. Glancing around for any witnesses, of which there were none, he sat and began looking at the goods hidden in the stall.
Omega's eyes scanned the various goods, none of which were very interesting. Rifling through the items in case he missed anything, he spotted the corner of a communicator peeking out from under a garment of some sort. In only a few seconds, Omega had grabbed it, dialed Alfredo's number, and was talking to him.
"Hello, this is Alfredo. Who is-"
"It's me, Alfredo, so let's cut the niceties and get to the missions," Omega snapped.
Alfredo blinked, confused, before he realized what was happening. "Oh, it's you! Well, I wasn't expecting you to call us for a job so quickly! Is something the matter?" he asked.
"You could say that. But like I said, let's get to the missions. Got any that will pay well and be relatively quick?"
"Well, for you, anything can pay well. And quick, well, let's see..." Alfredo muttered. He went off screen for a moment, then reappeared with Scimitar right beside him.
"Hey, look who it is!" Scimitar roared happily, "My favorite mercenary! You've got good timing, mate!"
"Yeah yeah, long time no see and all that shit. You look great and all, but I'd really like to quit the chit-chat and get a mission, alright?" Omega complained.
"All business, eh? That's what makes you so great. Tell you what, one of our new rival raider bands has got a weapons factory under their control, and, well, we'd like to be the ones controlling it instead. It's in a remote location, so we'll fly your squad and you to it. You can't use the teleporter systems or they'll know you're there, but that's shouldn't be much of a hitch. Think you're up to it?"
"Tell me how much you're willing to pay me and where you want to pick me up at, and I'll see if I feel like it," he answered. Scimitar nodded thoughtfully.
"Fair enough. We can pay you $1000 if you pull this off properly, and we could pick you up right where you are. Just give us a sec and we'll transport a team over to pick you and your squad up."
"Uh..." Omega stuttered. What would happen once they found out he didn't have a squad? "Uhm, sorry, they're a bit busy with another mission right now. Sorry, but you'll have to be alright with just me. It won't do anything to hamper the mission though, I'm as good on my own as I am with others. Mission accepted." Omega finished.
"No problem. Just keep whatever communicator you're using on, we'll come and get you in fifteen minutes."
"Alright. I'll be waiting," Omega said. He tucked the communicator back on one of the shelves, watching as a screen-saver appeared. The fifteen minutes passed with no incident, except for the occasional time when Omega looked around for anyone watching him. Soon enough, a large group of raider soldiers in casual attire appeared. To the regular eyes, they were civilians, but Omega could see that each of them was too well toned and militaristic to be so. They came to Omega's stall then stopped. Looking around, they were unable to see him, despite him being so close.
"Darn it, the signal's coming from around here, where is he?" asked one of the raiders to no one in particular. The others continued to search in vain.
"Are we being watched?" Omega asked lowly. The raider nearest the stall leaped away in fright as the others looked at him questioningly. After a moment to collect his thought, the raider went back to the stall, leaning over the counter to look down at Omega, who was sitting in as leisurely a position as possible.
"Oi, guys, I found 'im... Hey, anyone see if we're being spied on?"
"Not that I can tell. Why's 'e ask?"
"Because I was being tailed earlier. I'm pretty sure I lost them, but I just wanted to double-check first," Omega answered airily. He got up from behind the stall, causing some of the others to start, "You know how it is sometimes." A few of the raiders nodded sympathetically. After taking a moment to assess his escort, Omega decided to move along with the operation. "So, anyways, now that we're all here, how are we going to get to wherever we need to go?"
"Like the boss said, straight to the point, this guy is," one of the raiders smiled. She stepped forward, offering her hand in greeting. Omega ignored it. After realizing that the mercenary wasn't one for treating others as equals, the female raider retracted her hand and began her explanation, "Oh. We'll be using a long range transporter for that. The others are going to be getting supplies and whatnot, so we won't be traveling with them. Just keep in contact with me when they start up the transport sequence at home, alright? I'll call them right now."
"Sure," Omega waved. He watched as she input codes into a wrist-communicator, his eyes straying to the raiders arranged in a conveniently concealing formation around him. Suddenly, he was brought back by the raider tapping his shoulder.
"They're ready any time, grab my arm, they're gonna start soon."
Omega complied. Seconds passed, drawn out by the wait. Then, instantly, Omega felt the transportation sequence commence.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
Deep in a strange land, a shadowed figure's eyes opened instantly. It lurched from its chair, suddenly interested in the data that had disappeared off of the screen in front of it. Scrolling back through the files that passed by swiftly, it searched for the odd information that was missing. But when the figure got to where the data was...
Nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
The figure blinked, shaking its head. Maybe it'd been watching for too long... Getting up, the figure left the room to have a break. It sent a replacement to watch the screen as it was gone. But still, something about the data that it had yet hadn't seen was confusing. The figure, unsure, mused about the implications of what just happened. Either it was something as simple as having been focused on the one thing too much and seeing an illusion, or the data that was there had ceased to exist of its own accord. Putting the thought out of its mind, the figure resigned itself to the fact that it probably just needed a rest from all its work. It left to have a proper break.
Sucked from its proper place, the data floated in nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
Once at the Raider's Headquarters, events progressed rapidly. Omega was briefed about his mission objectives, given armor, and loaded onto a stealth plane within the space of a few minutes. All in all, it was a very exciting undertaking. One fit for him for sure, thought Omega, as he mentally went over his orders again.
Primary objective: take control of the factory. Secondary objective, his favorite: destroy all opposition. The means to which he was getting there was pretty fun, too. Because of the need for stealth, the raiders couldn't afford to risk alerting the factory by using the teleporter circuit to get in close, and the terrain was too remote for then to know any safe places where they could drop off their task force farther away. So, a new approach had to be used.
Omega would be sky diving.
An alert sounded over the PA system of the plane. Everyone but him left the hold of the stealth bomber, not as eager as he was to be dropped from such a height. Grinning maniacally, Omega moved to the center of the room as the last crewman left the hold. The thick bolts that would keep the hold shut off from the rest of the ship clunked heavily. More locks chinked and clanged together. It was the hold doors below him beginning to open. The static of the radio he had received shortly before alerted him that someone wanted his attention.
"Hey bomb-boy, ready to be deployed? Over." Scimitar's voice inquired jokingly.
"Been ready for a while, over." Omega replied.
"Great. Now remember, be careful when it's time to deploy your parachute. They're likely to have turrets around, whether or not they're auto-aim or not is unknown. Hope like hell they're not, or otherwise they'll be on you as soon as possible."
"If turrets could stop me I'd have been dead long ago. Now open this damn door already, would you?" Omega playfully growled, itching to feel his enemies' blood on his fingers. Warm, wet, intoxicating blood...
"As you say so. Mission commencing! Blow 'em all away!"
With a lurch, the doors opened, leaving Omega standing for the briefest second on air. Soon he fell into the sky below, wind rushing past his body and whipping his hair into a myriad of shapes. He folded his arms at his side and his legs straight out behind him, facing down towards the earth below him. Now streamlined, he plummeted rapidly towards an ever-growing gray box on the ground below him, the weapons factory. Lush green trees and rocky crags jutted out slightly and carpeted the area around the warehouse. Omega was thoroughly enjoying the sensation. The only thing that made the moment strange was that he was descended from the heavens above him, instead of ascending from hell below. But, oh well, it would be hell down there soon enough.
"Hey, whoa, you're descending faster than we thought you would! Are you listening? HEY!"
Omega sneered at the air, unhappy to have been interrupted, "Yeah yeah, what do you want?"
"It's gonna be what you want too, mate. You're going to need to open your parachute in about ten seconds, unless you want to be a pancake when you get down there!"
"Understood, start countdown!" Omega yelled.
"Alright, got it. We're at five... four... three... two... one..."
Omega's hand jerked to the parachute's release cord.
"NOW!"
With a sound like the sail of a ship, his parachute cracked open in milliseconds. The straps around his arms and midsection seemed to stop instantly, his body being forced to stop as well with a gut-wrenching lurch. After a moment to regain his breath, he began to tack and steer towards the factory. Now, thought Omega, it's just getting boring. The scenery grew marginally bigger as he slowly but surely descended towards his target. Omega yawned, then decided to take a closer look at the factory.
At first, everything was calm, as if the factory had been abandoned for years. That certainly seemed to be what the raiders were aiming for when they designed it. But then, just barely, Omega saw a small, blinking red light. Using his keen eyes, he peered as closely as he could at the building. What was that...?
Without warning, a small red dot appeared on Omega's armor. He remembered, with a sickening sensation, the warning about turrets. With every second counting, he did the only thing he could.
The purple zephyr of his sword cut through the cords. With at least another two hundred feet left to go, Omega went into a free-fall. And just in time; the parachute, still open, was suddenly ripped apart and riddled with holes. The pack on Omega's back was flung into the air as another distraction for the turret. It worked, and as it was torn to pieces, Omega prepared for what would be a very hard landing. He spread his body out to create drag, his feet towards an earth that was rapidly approaching.
With a huge crash, he hit the ground hard. Tree trunks shattered as a huge plume of dust rose from where Omega had landed. As the dust slowly cleared, Omega was able to get to his knees. The fall did damage, but not enough to impede him for long.
"Are you alright? Do you copy? Come in, are you alright? Do you copy?"
Omega, rubbed his head, trying to understand what was going on after the shock. A quick shake brought him back to his senses.
"Are you alright, do you-!"
"I don't copy, I kill, now can you shut the hell up? I just fell who knows how many feet, give me a break!"
The radio fizzed out into silence. Despite his legs feeling like jelly after the crash, he managed to get up, walking slowly towards his target. Every step he took was labored and heavy. Eventually though, his pace returned to normal. He opened up communications again.
"Alright, I'm heading towards the target. Requesting to maintain radio silence."
Scimitar answered from the other side of the line, "Permission granted. No doubt they think that they've destroyed whatever we sent at them, proceed with stealth. Cutting communications now."
The line went dead. Omega kept going on, fixated on the target, his bloodlust slowly growing every step he took.
God damn, he hated being shot at.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
Scimitar leaned back from the console, turning to look out the window behind him. Alfredo watched him, confused.
"What's the matter, Scimitar? Is something bothering you?"
Scimitar continued to stare at the clouds outside of the ship. He sighed, "Yes, there is. Alfredo. Remember how you said that you thought he was lying about having a squad? I think I believe you now. No ordinary reploid could have survived a fall like that without at least some damage. Even the Mega Men might not have been able to."
Alfredo coughed nervously, adjusting his glasses, "To tell you the truth, I was half joking that time. I'm not now, though. I mean, convincing all the other raiders that we had a super-strong reploid working for us was one thing, I didn't think it'd actually be a possibility!"
"Yeah, it's a good thing he took the job when he did. That band he's attacking right now was about to call our bluff," Scimitar said in an odd tone, "Alfredo... you don't think..."
"Think what?"
"That this reploid... that he's as strong as a Mega Man, do you? Maybe even stronger?" Scimitar asked.
His first mate took a while to respond, thinking carefully about his answer, "Well, sir, I can honestly say that I wouldn't be surprised if he was."
"Same here, Alfredo, same here..."
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
The great gray walls rose up from the soil forebodingly. Sounds of numerous machine clanking and scratching away almost completely drowned out the songs of the animals surrounding the factory's barbed wire fence, the wind brought with it the harsh smells of various chemicals customary to construction sites, and the shouts of unaware factory workers scurrying around inside.
Omega stomped up to the door, his thirst for murder only barely held in check. A factory worker from beside the front door came towards him, gun aimed.
"Hey, who the hell are y-!"
His life ended abruptly as Omega grabbed his chest with one hand, his waist with the other, and ripped him in two. Blood splashed liberally over him as he continued his furious march. Another worker understood the message immediately, dashing for his life to the illusion of safety inside the factory and shutting the door loudly behind him. Even before he got inside, he screamed for help from the raiders inside.
Bolts were hastily slid to prevent Omega from entering. It was a futile attempt. As the red demon arrived at the door, he let fly a mighty punch that nearly penetrated the steel portal.
"KNOCK...!"
His fist retracted, allowing him to swing the other with just as much power as the first. It left an identical dent next to the first.
"KNOCK!"
Terrified voices rang out from inside, "What the hell! Who are you? What do you want with us?"
"You shot me, you bastards! You SHOT ME! And now you have ten seconds to surrender or open this door so that I can KILL YOU ALL!" He roared, shaking the rafters with the rage in his voice.
"Wait, what? What makes you think you can just barge in here and take control on a whim? We're not some bunch of pushovers, we are a sophisticated crime gang with a weapons factory under our complete control! And we'll be damned if we're going to let you just-"
"TIME'S UP!" Omega screamed demonically. He brought both of his fists back, pounding them simultaneously into the two dents. The dents gave way as his hands went through. Bringing his fingers back, he dug into the door, nearly making ten more holes as their clawed ends dented the metal. Then, using all of his strength, he ripped each door from its hinges. The bolts went flying along with the doors behind him. Red eyes glowing brightly, the God of Destruction looked up at several squads of fully armed, armored, petrified raiders watching him helplessly from within. The one at the front, apparently the leader, raised a machine gun at him.
And was promptly gutted with it.
Dropping the weapon among the spilled entrails, Omega dashed forwards and wreaked his unholy wrath among the remaining raiders. He grabbed a skull here, smashed it on another there, grabbed both of the bodies and used them as projectile weapons on yet another, then punched through a chest at his left. He brought out the reddened fist, elbowing the face of the raider behind him, crushing it, all while his right hand was preoccupied ripping the throat out of a raider with a grenade launcher. His next victim had his spine crushed by a hand through their stomach before they too were used as a projectile weapon against another. And so the carnage continued, until all nearby surfaces were drenched with steaming carmine liquid, brutally torn bodies littering the hall.
Omega really, really hated being shot at.
His way cleared of opposition, Omega continued on his way through the factory. He explored every possible hall and room that he could, destroying anyone who got in his way and disabling all defensive machinery. It was only a few minutes since he had first "knocked" on the front door of the weapons factory, but Omega's ruthless efficiency was making the mission progress smoothly.
The first few floor of the factory was captured only moments later. Omega looked around, waiting anxiously for more raiders to appear for him to slaughter. A small movement caught his attention. His hair moving almost unnaturally, he ran after it. Soon he found himself at another door, presumably leading to the last room on the floor. One raider stood struggling with it, attempting to open it before they were the next to die. Omega grinned maliciously, walking slowly forward. The raider heard his footsteps, then glanced behind herself in terror. She began screaming but to no avail. Her life ended with a sound somewhere between a splat and a crunch.
Blood spread out slowly on the floor, slipping under the door and dripping down something. Omega, curious, began fiddling with the door. For about three seconds. Tiring of playing around with it, he began punching it to force it to either open or be destroyed.
However, this door was both thicker and stronger than the front one. In order to pass it, the red demon realized that he would have to bring out his weapon. A pity, he was having fun bare-handed, but oh well. His hands slick from the gore on them, he grabbed his trusty sword and began pitting it against the thick obstacle.
It worked. Scars appeared and rapidly grew large on the door until it was no longer a door but a pile of rubble. Behind the wreckage, barely lit by the emergency light among it, was a staircase with a small waterfall of blood forming on it from the nearby carcass.
Omega descended down the stairs, his footsteps echoing throughout the thinning hall. The lights slowly became dimmer and dimmer as he went. More blood dripped down the stairs, but even that sound all but faded as the light eventually disappeared altogether.
The stairs suddenly stopped. Omega took his last step off of them and onto the basement level of the factory. Pitch black to all but him, Omega took a step forward, then slipped slightly. Looking down to see what caused it, Omega saw that it was the combination of a dirt floor as well as the blood soaked into his clothes. It wasn't a threat, so he continued. Another door was in front of him, so he dealt with it the same way he did the others. Stepping into the new room, Omega peered around to see what was in it. A soft humming sound reverberated around the room, he must be near the factory's generator.
Without warning, Omega felt a stabbing pain below his arm. His legs gave way and he ended up on his knees before he even realized what was happening..
"Who are you to intrude in my factory?" hissed a voice to his side. Omega struggled to turn his head to face his new opponent.
"Guhrrrr... what? Who are you?" he demanded, annoyed. Unseen claws tapped against the floor as his assailant trotted into view.
"Impudent one, aren't you? But you will die here for disturbing my peace, so I suppose I can humor you for now. My name is Scorzon, the poison arachroid of the Nightcrawler syndicate," grated a harsh voice.
"Oh, I get it, you're an overgrown spider. Coward, you poisoned me, didn't you? Come out of the shadows and show your ugly hide!" Omega growled. He was swiftly regaining proper control of his body, but he kept pretending to be weak, just in case. The hidden foe hissed angrily.
"I am no spider, how dare you mock me so! I am a scorpion! Not some lowly spider! And besides, I did not poison you, I paralyzed you. You were closer than others though, I suppose. Humph, why am I bothering with a lowlife like you? You obviously sneaked in here without anyone knowing... tch. I'll have to reprimand my troops about letting in vermin after they deal with you." he walked away, but Omega wasn't finished with him yet.
"Oh, troops? What troops?" he taunted. The claw scraping stopped immediately.
"What do you mean, what troops? The trained soldiers in the factory outside, of course! What a fool you are, to have ignored them on your way in. Perhaps they should use you as target practice for new weapons..." the voice muttered.
Omega chuckled evilly, "Now who's the fool? Of course I didn't ignore them."
"You are talking nonsensically agai-" the voice began to scold, but then stopped itself. Something twitched in the darkness, as if unsure of something, "Wait... what is that smell? What do you mean, you didn'ti gnore them? I will get to the bottom of this right now!" it screeched. It ran to some corner of the room, stopping with a skidding sound.
The lights were suddenly turned on. Omega blinked once, then looked to where the mysterious voice had gone. As it had said, it was a scorpion themed psuedoroid. Purple tints shone off its plated armor, all the way from the back of its head to the bulb on the end of its tail. The oval bulb on the tail sported something akin to an energy dagger, no doubt the mutos reploid's main weapon. Scorzon's legs were thin and weak-looking at the bottom but thick and rounded at the top, similar to the plates that served as his shoulders. Instead of arms, tentacles tipped with pincer claws sprouted from his arm sockets. He had mandibles that clacked together in its mouth as well as a pair of thick antennae. Omega smiled now that he knew what his opponent looked like, and its obvious weaknesses. The psuedaroid, on the other hand, looked shocked.
"You... you're covered in blood! What is the meaning of this! What happened to my soldiers?" raged Scorzon.
"What do you think I did? I killed them. Every last one. They did make a glorious mess in the meantime though. But, that's the past, isn't it? I say we forget about your troops and worry about you." Omega sneered. He leaped up from the floor, bringing out his gun. Plasma blasts flew from his gun as Scorzon jumped out of the way to avoid them. Scorzon countered with shots of his own, which Omega was careful to dodge. They continued to exchange blasts until it became clear that nothing would be accomplished that way. Omega, ever the attacker, took the initiative. He swung his gun, transforming it back into a sword, then charged. Scorzon blocked with the dagger on his tail, grabbing Omega with one of his claws.
"You monster! Those were my faithful soldiers! You... you'll pay for each and every one of their lives tenfold! As their commander, that is my duty! What did you think you would be able to accomplish by coming down here, now that you've slaughtered my minions? Why did you do it? WHY!?"
His answer was a rough kick to the face. Scorzon dropped Omega, lashing at him with his tail as he retreated from the blow. Omega received a thin slice on his forearm, causing him to stumble drunkenly away as well. Both fighters shook off their maladies at the same time, squaring off and circling their respective prey.
"Why? Why not!" Omega laughed. He feinted a right thrust with his sword. Scorzon made to grab him, but was thrown off by the maneuver, allowing Omega to close in and slice at the thin tentacle. It cut away easily. Scorzon yelled with pain, grasping Omega unexpectedly with his remaining claw. Now with the red demon caught in his grasp, Scorzon attempted to crush him, as well as bash his mechanical brains out by smashing him into walls. Omega took the blows in stride, charging up power in his feet. Realizing that his tactic wasn't working, Scorzon prepared to impale Omega with his tail blade.
Now it was Omega's turn to be unexpected. He twisted towards the psuedaroid's head, kicking it at the same time he released his Heat Launch. Scorzon was forced to either release him or lose his remaining arm, so he chose the former. Omega rammed heartily into the wall, causing him to brain himself. He dragged himself out of the wall's new crater as Scorzon wailed, his visual sensors decimated by Omega's EX Skill.
The red demon jumped into the air, using Static to cling to the ceiling. He crawled along it until he was above the Arachroid. Scorzon's antennae twitched, and he swiftly turned and fired at Omega. Taken aback by the maneuver, he was forced to land roughly and settle for a quick Burning Sky Blade to send his opponent into the air. Scorzon landed with a crash several feet away. Omega ran forwards, jumping upwards and preparing a final downward stab to finish him off.
Scorzon, despite his disorientation, managed a charge, catching Omega off guard. The crimson destroyer was forced to land on Scorzon's shoulder plates and move his arms frantically to keep his balance. Now that he knew exactly where his enemy was, Scorzon leaned forwards, jabbing with his dagger to try and hit Omega directly.
Omega took his chance. He grabbed the bulb of the tail, changing its course by stabbing downward. The blade went straight through Scorzon's head and out the other side. Sparks flew from the hole and the now lifeless eyes. His internal systems overloaded, Scorzon's body exploded.
The blast launched Omega into the wall. Dust and smoke floated leisurely in the air, slowly drifting downwards. Dragging himself from another crater, Omega put his hand on his newly acquired head wound. Red slowly trickled from it, coating the right side of his face. He grimaced as it began to heal more painfully than it should have.
"I really need my old helmet back..." he groaned. Eventually the tear healed, giving Omega the chance to survey his surroundings. Despite the battle, most of the machinery in the room was in pristine condition. But, well, with a weapons factory under your control, why not take care of it? As he looked around the room, Omega noticed another door, hidden behind a large console. Smirking, Omega headed towards it, eager to see what was on the other side.
The moment he opened the door, he noticed the pitch-black lighting and the silence. "It seemed as though Scorzon had a bit of an affinity for darkness," Omega whispered to himself. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard a response.
"Scorzon... I already... fixed the console once today..." The voice was feminine and weak. Almost as if the speaker was severely ill. "Please... Scorzon, can't you spare me today? I've already done the work today... No more..."
Omega's eyes adjusted to the gloom. He peered around the room, noticing a hunched figure in the corner. "Scorzon is dead. I don't know who you are, but I personally made sure that he and his troops were spread all over the base. Quite frankly, you're probably going to be joining them in hell soon."
"Scorzon... dead? Heh... that's good. You know what? Maybe I will go to hell... but I got to know that the bastard got what he deserved before I went." she said. The silhouette of the hidden figure slowly became separate from the shadows surrounding it. As Omega approached her, he was also able to make out the image of a light switch not far away from him. He turned it on.
The iguana reploid looked at him in slight surprise. Omega returned the gesture, uncertain about how he should receive the information his eyes were giving him. She had a powerful fram, and would be slightly taller than Omega if she were standing. Her segmented underside and sharp, striped spines betrayed her defensive capabilities. Large, strong jaws were slightly open in exhaustion, and her menacing claws scraped feebly at the ground. Thick limbs were shackled to the wall, numerous injuries covered her body from her snout to the tip of her powerful tail. Chains draped all over her and the ground, weighing down with indifferent brutality. Sprawled out on the floor, she was assessing him at the same time he was her, noticing with interest the amount of blood on Omega's garments.
"Looks like you... guh, took out more than just Scorzon on your way down here, hmm?" she observed mildly, "Hah hah, oh well, at least the guy... who's going to kill me... at least he's a cutie..." she taunted. With that, her head fell with a clunk. She breathed out, as if she were finally relaxing after a long war.
Omega brought out his sword, the blade glowing in the sparse light. Staring down at his final victim for the day, he raised the weapon above her head... And stopped.
Was it the fact that she was peacefully resigned to her fate? Or was it because of how the chains reminded him of his own bondage to Weil? He could easily see that she had been tortured in some way... the gashes and bullet wounds were undeniable. Maybe it was the fact that she was unconscious. Killing a sleeping victim was never as fun as an alert one...
He lowered his sword. For whatever reason he came up with, Omega couldn't deny the facts; he, for once in his life, was hesitating to kill someone.
He hissed at himself for his incompetence. What the hell was wrong with him? Was he getting soft? No, he must just be tired from his earlier fight. And besides, she posed no threat to him. So why not kill her anyways? Why not?
He raised his sword again, determined to undo his mistake. Mercy was his enemy; he would destroy it like everything else in his path. Unfortunately, his path was about to become even more crowded. The communicator in his pocket rang.
"Commander to bomb-buy, how are things down there? It's been a good amount of time, are you done yet? We'd like to move in as soon as possible."
"Commander, I was just about to kill the last one right now, actually. A pretty banged-up Psuedoroid slave, I think. Not that it's going to matter in ten seconds," Omega replied.
"A psuedoroid? If you haven't killed it already, then capture it for us, would you? They're useful things to have."
"But-"
"No buts, I'm your commander for this mission and I'm adding it to your list of objectives."
Omega snarled at the order, "No way! I-"
"I'll pay you extra," Scimitar said almost tauntingly.
Faced with the new dilemma, money and the loss of principle or principle and a lot of suspicion, Omega was forced to make a tough decision. He unwillingly settled on letting the psuedoroid live. But he'd be damned if he went with it calmly!
"It better not be some measly amount, got that? 500 at least! And it won't be my fault if it dies in the meantime!" he grimaced.
"Hmm... I suppose that's only fair. I mean, I did give you the objective at the last second. Very well, you'll receive it along with the rest of your money later. Speaking of which, I know your methods are a bit messier than most people's, so would you mind cleaning up before we get there?"
"How long until you get here?"
"Around fifteen minutes."
"I'll try. Just don't expect the blood to be gone. I can only do so much, you know."
"That's fine, just burn the bodies so that we don't have to worry about smell. We'll handle the blood, it's not like we haven't dealt with that sort of thing before."
"Got it."
Omega turned off the communicator, staring down at the psuedaroid with disgust, "You're lucky, pathetic scum. You get the chance to live another day. But don't think I won't take that away if I get the chance," he finalized. With an impatient grunt he left the room, taking to the task of cleaning up. After finding an incinerator room (which he guessed doubled as the factory's heating), he gathered the mauled bodies of his victims to fling into it. His assumption was right; the temperature of the building rose as he worked in the gruesome mess. After the last body in the factory was turned to ash, Omega, even though the heat didn't bother him at all, decided to go find a way to let some of the heat out. The last thing he needed was his employer roasting to death the moment he stepped inside the factory.
As he stepped out into the blood drenched front of the factory, he remembered that there weren't any windows, or doors for that matter, to open. The heat permeated up from the factory's ruined front orifice in waves, the door far from where it should be. Omega blinked, a little farther than he thought it'd be, actually.
Not that it was of any concern. The red demon walked leisurely forward, enjoying the gentle plop of blood hitting the ground. And until he washed his clothes, the relaxing sound would continue.
The body of the first guard was suddenly in view, the ground soaked in an incriminating fashion. Looking down at it, Omega admired his handiwork. Damn, he could do some damage when he was angry. The raiders would arrive in about five minutes, which was plenty of time in the God of Destruction's opinion. He grabbed the two pieces of the carcass and dragged them slowly into the incinerator room, not at all worried that there were small bits coming off of it. They just fit in with the others.
Hidden behind the trees, the raiders, who had arrived early, were holding their breaths. Scimitar and Alfredo, despite being seasoned law-breakers, were pale.
"That... that was a person, wasn't it?" asked one of the rookies. Scimitar spared him glance, stared, and nodded solemnly. The rookie gagged, his hand in front of his mouth. He dashed off into the foliage and was sick. Grimacing, Scimitar turned back to the blood stained scene near the factory.
"Just what the hell kind of a monster is he? What have we gotten ourselves into here?" Alfredo muttered, loud enough for all to hear.
"I think we've gotten ourselves into a good situation, actually," Scimitar pointed out. Everyone looked at him in surprise.
"Uh, sir," stuttered a soldier, "how exactly is associating with that... thing, if you'll permit me to call it that, a good situation? It could kill us all on a whim, for all we know!"
Scimitar pointed to the bloodstains on the ground, "Well, look at it this way; at least he's on our side."
Murmurs of agreement followed the statement. They settled into silence soon after, like an unspoken order for quiet had been called. When the five minutes passed, Scimitar gulped, then stepped out into the barren land around the factory. His raiders followed.
Omega stood waiting for them at the entrance. He seemed pleased with himself, humming a little tune and squeezing out excess blood from his garments. The nigh-forgotten armor given to him by the raiders was in a neatly folded pile on the ground nearby. Scimitar coughed, acquiring Omega's attention.
"Well well, it certainly seems like you were triumphant. We'll begin moving our forces in immediately."
"That I was. Do what you like with it, this place is yours now. Just pay up and get me back to camp, I really need a bath."
Scimitar put on a grin, "It sure looks like it. Now, let Jerry here take you home in the fighter we have set up, he'll drop you off on the outskirts of hunters camp." The raider in question cringed, wilting visibly under the Dark Messiah's glare.
"Whatever. Let's get this over with."
Scimitar handed Omega his money, then directed him and the much subdued pilot to their destination. The sun was beginning to fall in the sky, painting the air a glorious myriad of fiery colours.
x-x-x-x-x
The moment the raider flew off, Omega dropped to the ground. He writhed and tore at the earth, covering himself with a liberal amount of dust. It took many layers of grit for the deep red of the blood to be hidden. After that, sneaking back into the camp was easy. He trotted back to his hangar, avoiding the main roads and alleys. Inside his primitive home, he searched for something to clean himself off with. The only thing that was there was a small tap in the corner, hell knew if it worked. Omega went to it, testing it. Cold water gushed from it onto his hand, blasting away both the dirt and the blood. He frowned. If only he had a bucket... oh well, he'd make do.
Cupping his hands, Omega splashed water over the parts of his body that he couldn't put under the tap. The grit sloshed onto the floor, forming a puddle with the diluted blood that slowly moved towards a drain in the concrete ground. He scrubbed away what didn't come out easily, eventually taking his clothes off in disgust. They soaked up a lot more body fluids than he thought was reasonable.
When he was done, he hung the clothes to dry, noting again that he should probably get some new ones soon. Bloodstains were a bitch to get out. A great yawn unexpectedly escaped his maw. Squeezing out his hair, Omega went over to the driest part of the hangar, laid his head against the floor, and slept.
x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x
Aeolus scowled down from the top of the neighboring building. He, for his failure to keep his eye on the unknown reploid, had been severely reprimanded. It was rare for the wind Mega Man to be cross, but this was one such occasion.
"I don't know how you managed it, but I won't forgive it! No one sneaks past me and plays me for a fool! No one!" he raged.
Ignorant people walked the streets below. Not one looked up to the tops of the hangars. Had they done so, they would have seen one of the most murderous looking Mega Man in history glaring down at a curtained window.