Morning dawned brightly on the surface of the clouds, gentle yet fiery colours reflecting off of the pristine white vapour swirling in the winds. Cold, yet crisp, the sky was sharp against the skin of a single reploid on the deck of a mighty airship blasting its way through the air, the dark greys, blacks and purples of its hull reflecting orange in the morning light. Atop the ship the lone figure stood, platinum hair whipping in the gales and red eyes glowing with the rising sun. Slitted pupils glared at the scenery and the tainted mockery it made of the ground below. A landscape of clouds and a horizon of fire below a grey, pre-dawn sky. Calmly viewing the false topography of his surroundings, Omega, the God of Destruction, was as cold, harsh and unforgiving as the sky which he viewed.
As the sun rose Omega carefully shifted his grip on the airship's rail, using it to help him stretch, before once again lapsing into an immobile, watchful silence. Belowdeck, the majority of his new raider allies were likely just getting up and about. Preparations for the new day would be occurring soon. The hour was still early, however. Having not slept a moment since joining, the Red Demon had instead wandered around the ship until he'd found the decks and promptly decided to stay there. His reasoning was simple enough. He wanted some time to himself to think. But of what, he had yet to discover. The most he could do was reminisce and he did as such, thinking back on his recent escapades. His thoughts wandered to when he first escaped from his imprisonment in the enigmatic Area N, all the way up to his hectic meetings with the Mega Men, their reactions to him, and finally to his betrayal of Legion.
Well, one could only call it a betrayal if they squinted hard enough. After all he'd never willingly joined them in the first place. They had convinced themselves of his innocence; now they were enjoying the results. He smirked to himself, the gesture lasting only a moment. The fruits of their labours were no doubt rather rancid.
The main door to the decks opened. Footsteps clanged softly against the metal surface below, slowly coming up behind him. "I'd wondered where I was going to find you. Aren't you a bit chilly out here so early in the morning?"
Omega turned around to face the new arrival. It turned out to be leader of the raiders whom he now served. Scimitar stood solemnly, a curious expression upon his pointed features. His long black jacket cracked and swayed wildly in the breeze, its purple edges dancing through the air.
"Didn't notice it," Omega replied casually, leaning back against the rail. The two observed each other for a moment.
Scimitar broke the silence by tapping his sleek, dangerous looking helmet, a grin on his face. "Well, we're not really accomplishing anything out here. When you're ready, we can head on in and I'll show you around. I really do owe a lot of my success to you, so it's the least I can do."
Omega snorted, prying himself up, "Sure. I'm not doing much of anything out here."
"Straight to the point as always. Well then, welcome to my ship, the Blight Brouillard!" he crowed. He span around, his coat following his movements, and beckoned for Omega to follow him into the ship. And so, Omega did.
x-x-x-x-x
The tour of the Blight Brouillard started off rather smoothly. He was familiar with the top floor, the deck, so Scimitar barely paid any heed to it as they exited. They instead took an elevator located in the vessel's midriff down to the bottom of the ship, beginning from the first floor. The 'ground floor' as the crew affectionately called it, was the lowest floor of the base, and functioned as a secondary observation deck. The raider leader pointed at a few short halls leading away, mentioning that it was also the location of many of their manned turrets. Further along was the entrance to the engines, and Omega stiffened somewhat once he saw the generator.
"Never seen the C.I.E.L. system before? Apparently some genius of a scientist made it, but it's hard to copy. You have no idea what we had to go through to get some blueprints for it. Those Guardians and the power companies who make it are very sticky-fingered."
"Who gave it up in the end?" Omega asked instinctively, his mind pondering the connection between the Guardians and the 'Ciel' system. He supposed the resistance from his time would have had to go somewhere...
Scimitar huffed, "Power companies, of course. The Guardians are an organization notoriously stubborn about being a lot of goody two-shoes. Or they're just too dim-witted to recognize an opportunity. But I will give them credit for the 'airship-as-a-base' idea. I'll be blunt, we outright copied them."
"A good idea is a good idea, after all," Omega nodded in understanding.
"Would explain why no one can ever find the fuckers," the raider laughed.
The tour continued as once again they took the elevator up one level. The second floor turned out to be home to some residences and the storage bays. A few raiders working in one of the bays waved as they passed. The pair momentarily skipped the third floor in their tour, heading to the fourth. Scimitar chuckled as they exited the elevator again. "Welcome to the second-most popular part of the ship; the medical bays!"
The area, Omega noticed, was definitely populated, although a good number of the raiders there looked like they'd much prefer to be elsewhere. The God of Destruction didn't entirely blame them. But that factoid wasn't what caught his eye. Wherever he looked he saw the same metallic colours of the ship, evidence that the raiders preferred function over fashion, or even comfort for that matter. His gaze was attracted by an oddly thick door at the end of the hall. "Scimitar?" he started.
"Yes?" the raider leader answered.
"What's that door there for?" Omega finished, pointing at the door. It was the same colour as the others, a stainless steel grey, but it appeared more like a blast door than anything. Multiple security panels were located right beside it, showing that it was currently locked, and would likely need several codes to get in. As he noticed the door, the red reploid also saw how there were several oddly shaped panels along the halls, moreso than had been in other sections of the ship. Panels that, Omega knew due to experience, most likely contained defence turrets. A heavily guarded and locked door? He was instantly curious.
And Scimitar, much to his chagrin, was not about to sate that curiosity. "That's one of our research and development rooms. I'm glad you brought that up actually. Not to be rude, but I'm afraid you're not going to be allowed in there anytime soon. As much as we all like you here, you only just joined. Even though you're getting a larger run of the ship than most of our new recruits, that particular place is... well, off limits. Very off limits."
Omega kept staring at the door for a moment, his blank face hiding the concern underneath. He couldn't help but remember what the Iguana pseudoroid, Iggy, had told him just last night. How could he? It was what had kept him up last night.
Nonetheless, he turned to decorated man beside him, smiling as if he didn't have a care in the world, "Fair enough. I understand completely. I believe there was one more level for us to finish touring?"
"Oh right, yes! The best one!" Scimitar grinned. "Come on, this way." He walked off, Omega diligently following him. As the two headed towards the elevator once more, Scimitar struck up their conversation again, "Now, most of this level you've seen already. Remember from when you trained the kitsuroids? That's the floor! So, you've already seen the few residences and training rooms that were there already, as well as the transportation terminal close by, but I will admit, you missed my favourite room on the ship." The duo entered the elevator one more time, soon arriving on the third floor. Omega took in his surroundings once again, the usual steel walls, paneling, and sturdy doors of the ship greeting his gaze. A large crowd of raiders were milling around the deck too, including three kitsune-shaped pseudoroids. One of them, the red one, waved. Omega nodded back slightly. Scimitar grinned behind him, patiently waiting for Omega to give him his attention.
"There's the data room and general laboratory right there, they're in the same room for ease of use, and, here we go, the best view in the whole ship!"
Striding forward confidently, Scimitar boldly stepped towards a door at the very end of the hall. It opened for him swiftly, heavy gears grinding behind the walls. As Omega followed him into the room, he couldn't help but be impressed. Near the entrance to the room, another door, marked 'captain's quarters', was nestled securely in the wall. Numerous consoles dotted the area adjacent to an enormous window that viewed the sky outside. Operators were sat working diligently below a raised platform in the middle, the main console, where Scimitar had sat himself down. Alfredo, the first mate, was stood near his side, directing the operations in the bridge to cease momentarily at their leader's return. Everything went silent, every soul in the room watching the activity between the raider leader and the former mercenary, the red demon Omega.
"So, what do you think of our humble little ship, hmm?"
Omega drew himself up to his maximum height, observing everyone in the room with a cold glare. He gazed out the window at the clouds outside, no longer reflecting the fires of morning. Then he looked back to Scimitar, a bloodthirsty, malicious smile gracing his features.
"I think I like it very much."
x-x-x-x-x
Omega hadn't lied; he indeed liked the ship. It was easily and well defended, with little frivolity in its design. But what he really liked was how he now knew where everything was. The God of Destruction was no fool. A room he wasn't allowed in? Perhaps it was hypocritical, but he wasn't going to let them keep any secrets from him.
Later that evening, once the celebrations had wound down (apparently pulling a fast one on Legion had been a pretty Big Thing), the God of Destruction began his infiltration. Without knowledge of his transformation abilities, there was no way the Raiders could have expected him, in the form of the snake Ejen, to writhe his way through the pipes towards the laboratory. However, whomever had designed the ship wasn't stupid enough to allow the vents to be used to gain entrance to the labs; he was forced to divert and drop down into the hallway outside instead. Luckily, whatever defensive weaponry was hidden in the walls didn't react to his presence, any other raiders were absent from partying too hard.
The door was an obstacle, but not for long. A quick chat with Viral and an EX skill gained him easy entrance. Scorzon's paralyzing skill/Safari's controlling skill worked just as well on machinery as people, apparently.
The door closed behind Omega with a soft hiss, yet he could pay it no heed. What he'd thought might be a relatively uneventful trip to the lab had just turned his world upside down. Screens were filled with familiar data (oh so familiar, oh so horrifying), nearby tables were littered with tools for custom-building reploids, and weapons were scattered across various desks along with some incomplete robotic organs. However, it was what stood in the middle of the room that had grabbed his attention. Omega took a few tentative steps forwards as his eyes took in the sight of a large, round computer console with multiple monitors on it, all displaying statistics or vital signs. On top of this base, starting at about chest height, was a large vertical tube. It was reminiscent of the capsules Omega remembered from his time in the Mavericks wars, when he was little more than a basic core personality stifled under a fake AI made by the late Dr. Cain. It glowed a serene green-blue, a stark contrast to state of its contents.
Within its glass surface floated an incomplete reploid, male and lean in design. Despite the unfinished armour and a few vital missing organs yet to be added, it was clear to see that this was a fighting model. Lean muscles showed under thick, dark grey synthetic skin. Hands, ever so slightly tapered into claws, hung lifelessly at the sides of the incomplete creature, its face all too familiar. Long silvery hair rippled as bubbles rose from the bottom of the tank. Under its open, incomplete stomach, the light glow of a secondary core betrayed the inheritance meant for it.
It was him.
Omega stared at his copy for a long moment, frozen in place. Frozen in shock. Then he took a step forward and all hell was unleashed.
The reploid would have been strong, had it been given life, but a raging God of Destruction ensured that it would never open its eyes to see the light of day. The tank was smashed, the creature within utterly torn to pieces. He destroyed it, pounding its unformed vitals into a paste of metallic scrap and amniotic tank fluid. He shredded it until it was nothing more than some malformed limbs hanging despondently from the womb it never left.
His wrath fulfilled, Omega straightened. The door opened behind him, and he slowly turned to look.
Silence.
"Really now? What a waste of resources."
Scimitar ruthlessly gazed at the corpse, rubbing the bridge of his nose as glowing fluid seeped from where a tank once stood. Alfredo stood beside him, watching noiselessly as his leader groaned,"Beta wasn't a cheap reploid to make you know. He might have been a wonderful brother for you, too. How sad." The raider leader shook his head sadly at the carnage, but seemed surprisingly calm when faced with the angry, red-eyed demon staring at him.
"How." How, wondered Omega. How had he known how to make such a close copy. How!?
"All thanks to you, actually," Scimitar stated. Omega's eye narrowed at the incomplete answer, growling. Scimitar smirked at him, continuing, "Oh? Can't you figure it out?" He shrugged and laughed, pointing/gesturing grandly at the data rolling down the screens. "It just so happens that, one day, not too long ago, a small raider leader such as myself stumbled, very luckily, upon the location for a very ancient, old lab. It just so happens, my boy, that this small leader was wary enough of rivals that he hired a very powerful ally to guard his crew, and rightfully so. They attacked, but failed spectacularly! With his strongest rivals out of the way, this raider felt no worries about keeping the data from the lab for himself and his crew. And what wonderful data! So many details about creating reploids, how to write various programs and plan various schemes! Truly a wonderful find, one that would allow any man or woman with the right frame of mind to change, or destroy, the world at will."
He raised his hands imperiously, "How many men can you think of have hidden labs? How many are scheming, brutal, and brilliant enough for that level of paranoia? Who have the strength of mind and schadenfreude to design so many ruthless weapons and schemes? Take a guess, friend, at whose lab we found." And with that Omega knew, oh how he knew. And yet he found his tongue caught, unable to voice the answer. Scimitar sighed as the red reploid continued to stare him down, but this time with fear showing in his crimson eyes. "Think, boy. Who had that much power? Who could make the world bow to his whims? You should well know, Omega.
Even if the data was incomplete, just a fragment of Weil's knowledge can make this world writhe."
"Damn you," Omega gasped. Damn it. He'd been the one to help them unearth that lab. He'd been the one to hand them his greatest strengths, his weaknesses, his own designs to them on a silver platter. And now, they were copying him. How dare they!
"I'm willing to overlook this you know," Scimitar offered. "I am no cruel master like Weil. I am also not foolish enough to dampen your true strengths just so that I can feel a little more powerful. We could make a great team, you and I. Well then? Will you accept this offer?"
The raider offered his hand.
Omega slapped it away.
"I reject."
Never again. Never. He'd never be a tool again.
"Most regrettable. I had hoped you could see reason," Scimitar frowned. As he spoke, another figure appeared from behind him, stepping into the room. Long golden hair, golden eyes, and golden armour. "Alpha? Do what you must."
The door closed with a clunk, trapping Omega in the room with the carcass of his dead copy, the still oozing fluids, and a golden look-alike. The leader and his first mate left as the door closed. Raiders weren't as dumb as the Legionnaires, clearly. Cute.
Predatory eyes summed each other up, Omega's crimson orbs burning into the hungry gaze of his foe. Gold irises widened in glee as Alpha stalked the room. Things could never be as easy as Omega had hoped. Another clone, this time complete, barred his way. "So it's just you and me, old geezer," he mocked, bringing out his sword and twirling. Omega did the same, his saber flashing into existence at his commend. Alpha cackled as he prepared to strike, but Omega was surprisingly calm. Fighting another copy of himself should have had him enraged, but perhaps he'd spent all his anger murdering the thing in the tank. Now he felt nothing but cold certainty as he calculated his odds. His weapons would likely not hold up to Alpha's, but the younger reploid's stance screamed over-confidence, energy, and eagerness.
Youth versus experience, then. This would be a fight to remember.
Alpha leapt first, bounding over the scenery carelessly and slashing viciously at his opponent. Omega didn't even bat an eyelid. A console took the hit instead as the older fighter dodged easily. His opponent was a blur of gold, constantly aiming towards him with his sword, itching to maim and kill. Omega, for his part, was playing much more defensively than he normally would. It was him versus Zero all over again, but this time, it was as if the roles were reversed. The first time, he'd been the eager attacker. He'd been the stronger one, the faster one, the one with more attacks under his belt. And yet, Zero had won. This time, he was still the stronger; more techniques and much more strength. But he was also wiser. He led his enemy around the room in a merry game of cat and mouse, gauging the youngster's strength and taking only the occasional swipe when the opportunity presented itself.
To an outsider, it would look as if Omega were losing, the elder constantly having to give up ground. Truth be told, that might have even been the case. The original God of Destruction was fighting against a near-perfect copy in foreign territory. Perhaps he could have gone full-throttle and met the younger one blow-for-blow, but that would have ended up with the eventual winner, likely himself, battered and bruised and in no position to fight off any further attacks. For Alpha that wasn't an issue, but for him, he would still have to escape afterwards; no easy feat on a well-armed raider ship.
He'd been holding back his strength for so, so long. The red devil wondered if he still remembered how to go all out.
"What's the matter geezer, can't keep up? What a waste of a reputation!" spat Alpha merrily, grinning at a panting Omega. Omega merely threw a sword at him, the newly-materialized weapon barely leaving a scratch as Alpha deflected it with his bare arm. Cocky bastard, Omega snorted before dodging another attack. Alpha directed a flurry of blows at him with his gun. The plasma blasts barely missed him, grazing his hair and blowing up more of the delicate lab machinery nearby.
Alpha had little regard for the collateral damage he caused, even on an airship like the Blight Brouillard. That could be a fatal mistake.
Even though he'd only just recently had the tour, Omega knew the ship fairly well. Alpha probably knew it better, but still. The God of Destruction had made his plans, and all it took was a little more temper on his opponent's side. This would be easy. In the middle of a harsh, fast-paced fight, Omega did something ridiculous. He stopped, leaning back towards the smoking, dripping remains of the growth tank, and directed a nasty comment to the dead form of his second copy.
"Wow, Beta. You were a harder opponent than this guy ever was," he grinned, pointing his thumb towards the other fighter. Hey, that tank HAD been tough to break, hadn't it?
Alpha, who had been taken aback by Omega's surprisingly nonchalant gesture, screeched in rage. Omega's grin practically flew off his face as he was forced to launch himself out of Alpha's way. The golden reploid had intended to smash his fist into Omega, but instead hit the raised base of the tank. What little was left of it promptly exploded.
Omega took a hit from an energy ball radiating out from the area. Damn AOE effects. Oh wait, right, he used to do that a lot himself didn't he? His thoughts were forced to return to the fight as his foe attacked him with renewed vigor. Both the walls and floor were showing clear signs of the battle, the reinforced surfaces dented and sparking. One spot in particular was all but ready to collapse; the floor a few meters from the door where Omega's wrath had first radiated from. The God of Destruction stopped dodging and stood his ground on the spot, hoping his enemy would fall for the tactic.
He did, literally and figuratively. Alpha smashed downwards with a charged beam sabre attack, smashing through the floor. Omega fell with him, kicking Alpha away among the shouts of startled raiders. The pair fell with a thump into the hallway below. He ran towards the main elevator, one or two raiders leaping aside as he barreled past them. Alpha followed him as he tackled open the elevator door and dropped down the shaft. A quick look revealed that the elevator's car was at the bottom. This would be a hindrance, but not for long. The red reploid grabbed the side of the shaft for a moment, just long enough for Alpha to fall past him. He kicked off the side and downwards. Alpha landed on the top of the car and looked up just in time for Omega to punch him with a charged fist, the resulting force shattering the elevator's roof and causing the pair to fall through yet another surface. Omega leapt off of Alpha and ran down the hall, not wasting a moment as his golden foe quickly recovered. Alpha roared and peppered the hall with charged gunshots, hitting windows, floor panels, and even a fellow raider who didn't avoid the attack in time. Omega hopped down the hallway and off the walls, zigging and zagging away from the blasts as best he could. Some of the wall panels opened up to reveal turrets, the mechanized guns instantly targeting the red reploid.
Omega grinned, even though he knew that this was going to hurt.
The combination of Alpha's charged shots (fucker had finally managed to aim right, Omega thought cheekily) and the turrets blasted him through the door at the end of the hall. Omega didn't waste a moment, ducking out of sight of his assailant and charging his energy even as he hopped up the wall for a better angle. For good measure, he aimed at a small, inconsequential-looking console nearby.
An explosion sounded. Alpha, howling in anger, bowled into the room, dragging pieces of a turret with him. Clearly he'd been too furious to bother dodging around the turrets and had gone through one instead. Now really. How childish! Omega didn't care though. He'd bought himself enough time to charge his attack, and now leaped off the wall and into his target.
Alpha could only watch in dull shock as the God of Destruction struck the ship's energy source, the pirated C.I.E.L. System, with all his might.
There was an explosion of course. It wasn't a big one, because Ciel would been damned if she'd allowed her miracle energy source to be explosive enough to be weaponized. That didn't help anyone who was in the same room however. Omega and Alpha took the brunt of the explosion, the pair getting smashed into the walls. It was nothing compared to riding into a city on a missile, Omega thought dully. What was of even more concern for the pair was the sudden lack of propulsion for the entire ship. Gravity took hold, the pair almost floating into the air for a moment as the ever-present force did its work.
Alpha was too stunned by the risky move to properly react. Spread-eagled and midair, the golden reploid had just learned that even a potentially weak opponent could pull a strong move. He stared at Omega, his eyes wide, and little else running through his mind but the sight of his opponent's emotionless, yet intense, return gaze as it came towards him. Omega didn't care. If Alpha had more time, he might have been able to put his new lesson to good use.
With a flash of violet light, that time was denied. A body fell one way, a head the other. There wasn't any time to think. With the sound of sirens and the rush of his own blood in his ears, the God of Destruction didn't even hear the crash.
x-x-x-x-x
Omega awoke, his head pounding and his body strained and sore all over. He crawled out from under blackened metal and surveyed his accomplishment, feeling little else but nostalgia, of all things. He was damaged and weakened, but more than functional, much like the day he'd crawled out from under the falling Ouroboros not long ago. And yet, it felt like so much time had passed.
Time.
Alpha, a copy of what Omega was 200 years ago. A tyrant. A monster. Gone. He vaguely wondered if Zero had felt the things he did now.
Burning wreckage and twisted steel met his vision. They'd crashed onto land, somewhere, but the thick black smoke writhing from the wreckage blocked any view of the horizon. Red light from the burning ship behind him reflected off the clouds, the entire area bathed in a fiery glow. The sky was dark, perhaps evening or early night for all he knew. It was almost ethereal to watch. The roar of flames and the howling wind were all that seemed to move in that barren landscape, the dirt gouged flat from the wreckage having been scattered everywhere. The ship must have dug a furrow in the landscape as it crashed, Omega mused. It had been a hard hit however; apart from himself, who was badly damaged as it was, there was neither sight nor sound of another living soul. Every piece scattered around the new clearing was unidentifiable as originating from either a person or the ship. It was all too mangled to tell the difference. And yet, there Omega stood, strong, damaged, and alone.
He should have felt more pride. More power. But all he felt was empty. Just another enemy dead before his feet. So many centuries ago... Had he really been that weak?
Something clanged from above. Omega didn't even have time to react before a ride armour fell through the air, crashing into the ground behind him. He felt himself grabbed, and that was all he could comprehend before he was suddenly being smashed into the ground, up and down and again and again until he was crushed like an insect.
Whatever had grabbed him finally stopped, dangling the prone reploid in front itself. Omega opened his eyes, glaring weakly at the covered cockpit of the ride armour in front of him.
"Now look what you've done."
A terrible stabbing sensation shattered Omega's calm, the God of Destruction howling as the feeling of something being injected into his system blossomed from the new wound in his stomach. He felt himself flung away like a broken toy. Horror and pain swept through him as he seized, the foreign substance in his body shutting down many of his systems and blocking the function of others. His throat was to tight to even scream.
"This is a huge loss for me, you know. Really, you should have just come quietly like the good little minion Weil painted you to be. Bad dog, my boy." The ride armour grabbed Omega by his hair, but instead being lifted up Omega was merely tugged along the ground until he was more spread out. His prone form soon stopped seizing; instead he felt all his muscles relax against his will. His mind foggy and his body slack, it took everything he had just to focus on the meaning of Scimitar's words. "By the way, you're dealing with one thing I didn't copy from Weil. Not entirely, although that dark elf data helped a little. Viruses are a fun little thing to use on reploids, you know. Completely illegal, and utterly immoral. Why, if it wasn't tailored specifically for you and any of the copies of you I'd made, I dare say my own men would have mutinied against me for it."
Scimitar, safe in his ride armour, smiled down wickedly at Omega. Out of nowhere the armour kicked Omega away, the red reploid feeling all the pain but completely unable to defend himself. Blood seeped into his lungs, but he was unable to cough. It felt like he was drowning, but all anyone could see was his eyes shut tight and a trickle of blood from his mouth.
The ride armour's foot smashed into his side once again. He flew a few metres away, not even the smallest of whimpers betraying his pain. Only the crackling of flames revealed this to be anything more than a bad dream.
Scimitar started walking towards him, and Omega, for the first time in a long time, has no confidence in the ability to defend himself. He was the strongest reploid alive on the planet. He'd fought armies, murdered heroes, and proved again and again to the world that he'd never allow himself to fade. Scimitar knew this. He knew he couldn't win in a fight. So Scimitar had cheated. Omega felt a terror he'd thought he'd freed himself from long ago. His free will, his freedom, would be nothing more.
Scimitar would get his way, and he'd be a slave to a madman once more.
No.
Omega felt an unholy anger course through his system. No. He would not. He would not give in. He would not let this happen again.
No.
And neither would Viral, his newest, yet closest, unexpected ally.
The God of Destruction roared, the unholy echoing over the wasteland made by the Blight Brouillard. Scimitar stopped advancing towards him, cautiously watching the red demon pull itself to its feet. Omega screamed again, releasing his rage into the skies. Viral roared with him, and yet he heard the program's voice not as separate from his, but as simply another part of him.
"Tch. I should have known," Scimitar began. His voice had gone from barely concealed anger and confidence to resignation and some mix of fear and dark hope. "The Potential system. I knew your DNA and data had morphed since Weil last took stock of it. Hmph. Don't think I didn't see this coming though!"
Scimitar's machine took a defensive stance, the cockpit's inhabitant disappearing as energy shielding activated and obscured his visage. With a screech of metal and a cocking of guns and other weapons, the ride armour loomed over Omega in a standoff for the ages.
It was time to end this.