He was prepared to see many faces when he ascended this tower. The meatfucker could've been any number of variations of worthless flesh and chrome, any potential combination of features from all across the globe, there was no real way to determine who they were besides the role they would fulfill.

They were here to kill him. Others too, but he didn't care about them, they probably deserved it for being weak enough to die to a single fucker.

Of all the faces, builds, or identities that he was prepared for, he was pleasantly surprised to see the face of the cheerleader staring back.

The fucking cheerleader, all on his lonesome, even in a new cybernetic body! This was his ultimate threat! The cheerleader!

It was hilarious. It was going to be incredibly fun scraping him a second time, and Adam intended to get his investment's worth. Half a year of frustration, bullshit, setbacks, misdirections, and all number of worthless interactions were piled at the feet of the meatfucker. The meatfucker that never showed up. Only the cheerleader was here.

Adam was looking forward to taking out his frustrations on him.

Their sandevistans were activated simultaneously. To Adam's delight, the cheerleader's had the same degree of acceleration that he did. This meant he might be fun.

Immediately, the cheerleader shot off three bullets from that Malorian of his. Adam grinned as he tossed his hellbringer up and began to vibrate his left hand.

Three bullets, each could put a hole through a truck, exploded out of the definitive hand-cannon. One aimed for his groin, one aimed for his heart, the last aimed for his face. He had to admit, those were decently accurate for how fast cheerleader had fired them.

Adam caught all three in his left hand, counter-vibrations filling his palm and cutting down the force of their impact enough for his inherent armor to ignore each.

Cheerleader's eyes widened as Adam dropped the flattened disks of metal and caught his hellbringer again in one smooth motion. Cheerleader jumped to the side just barely fast enough to avoid the massive .666 caliber bullet that screamed out of his own gun. The bullet continued on, hitting the building across from Arasaka Tower and cracking the window many hundreds of meters away. Teleoptics were useful like that.

"You were right, Johnny-boy. Nothing's changed in fifty years." Adam taunted as he tracked the running rockerboy with his aim. "Your gun still isn't doing anything."

The cheerleader snarled in fury and snapped off another shot. Adam took note of his aim, took note of his steady hand, did some quick estimations, and shot off another one of his own bullets.

The massive bullet of the hellbringer smashed right though the malorian's round, bouncing up and ricocheting off the roof to clatter uselessly on the ground some relative seconds later.

Adam's grin widened as the cheerleader's glare deepened. Their expressions remained as their sandevistans deactivated. All at once a rush of noise and wind filled the exposed chamber, but both were easy to ignore.

"How long have you been in that body?" Adam asked, a confident grin still on his face. "Three weeks? A month?"

"...Why the hell do you want to know?" Cheerleader growled out as he reloaded. Adam allowed this, he wasn't a threat here.

"Because you fight like you're still human. Like you're weak. You're a warmachine now, but you haven't been for long. A month at least." Adam asserted.

"Try two weeks, asshole." Cheerleader finished reloading and started stalking forwards. Their sandevistans activated again. Looks like the cheerleader's speedware was deliberately tuned to match his own, interesting…

"Two weeks?" Adam asked in confirmation, grin widening. "Well look at that, behind all that useless meat of yours was a real fighter all this time!" He spread his arms wide in mockery.

"And behind all of daddy corpo's chrome is a dead man!" Silverhand roared as he burst forwards. He raised his sword hilt, from which an inky black sword-thing emerged, ready to swing sideways.

"Johnny-boy… you couldn't fathom the amount of dead men behind me." Adam's grin shifted into a murderous glower. He raised his own sword, considered it for a moment, and rooted his stance before raising his sword even higher.

Silverhand swung.

Adam stopped the sword with a single finger. Cheerleader's optics widened.

Adam's sword came down, crashing like a falling star upon…

…The rockerboy's walkman, currently blasting music, and stopping just before crashing into the cheerleader's shoulder. The walkman exploded into innumerable shards around his neck, doing no damage to either of the heavily-armored cyborgs.

Cheerleader pulled away…

But not fast enough to avoid his foot, crashing into his chest and sending him smashing into the ceiling above.

Adam took a few steps forwards as gravity slowly reasserted itself on the rockerboy, causing him to fall from the roof. He spun and kicked again at the perfect moment to roundhouse-kick Cheerleader and send him crashing against the interior wall.

Did it do much damage? No not particularly, his frames weren't optimized for unarmed combat, they were optimized for general combat situations. Was it satisfying to punt the fucker twice for all the bullshit Adam had to go through in the past few months? Oh absolutely.

Their sandevistans deactivated as the rockerboy crashed against the wall, cratering it, sending spiderweb cracks throughout its frame, and denting it slightly. Almost slowly, the Cheerleader peeled off the wall to collapse to the ground, immediately attempting to push himself up again and take a stance.

Adam investigated his finger in the meanwhile. There, on the middle digit, was a rough cut perhaps a millimeter thick and deep. Perhaps one tenth of a second, and that fancy vibro-blade of his had sawn a cut that deeply. That was some real fancy tech.

The speedware, the frame, the sword… all of these indicated a rather wealthy and technologically-connected patron. Another fucker to murder after this then, Adam didn't enjoy leaving lose ends.

Cheerleader rose into a stance again, a stance Adam could recognize, one hand going to his neck to check the damages and finding only the broken walkman.

"That music of yours was getting annoying. Better than modern shit, but that's a low bar." Adam explained in the most infuriatingly condescending manner he could.

"ARE YOU EVEN TAKING THIS SERIOUSLY?!" The cheerleader roared out, waving an arm in furious proclamation.

Adam lost his cheer and replied in calm fury. "Of course not." He took a step forward and pointed an accusatory finger. "Look at yourself Silverhand! You were never a fighter, you were a fucking rockerboy with a hand cannon! Now you're in a body you barely have any experience fighting in, with a sword you're using a fucking skill chip for, and a gun that's fifty years out of date!"

His rant grew louder as it progressed. "I've been in better bodies than you for the better part of a fucking century! I've seen more action in a week than you have in your entire life! The only reason you got this far is your chrome and girlfriend putting in all the hard work!"

"YOU EXPECT ME TO TAKE YOU SERIOUSLY?!" Adam roared, his voice scattering to the winds outside. He took a moment to calm himself again, before continuing with a quiet, seething declaration. "You haven't earned the goddamn right."

There was a moment of silence, only the wind picking up outside filling the quiet with a dull howl.

The cheerleader growled. "Fucker… I'll make you take this seriously."

Adam glowered back. "I'll be disappointed if you don't."

Cheerleader rushed forwards again as their sandevistans cycled. Firing off a shot and starting to swing with that sword of his. Once again, Adam threw his hellbringer up and caught the bullet in a counter-vibrating hand. His other hand swung his sword to clash with the shadow-blade-thing, again making sure to counter-vibrate to prevent any potential damages.

The bullet flattened against his hand. His sword of void clashed against the sword of shadows. His glaring optics locked with the rockerboy's.

He raised his foot to kick. Cheerleader fired his gun again, but as it was pointed at the fucking ceiling, Adam ignored it. His foot crashed into the cheerleader's chest again, sending him flying back. His hand reached out to catch his gun.

…nothing but air…

He glanced over and up to see that his hellbringer had exploded into fragments of metal and ceramics, blooming into shape in slow motion in the air. He glared at it before turning his gaze to the cheerleader, still flying back.

The fucker had distracted him to destroy his only ranged weapon. Clever little bastard. He checked on his sword with a brief glance. He glared even harder when he saw that, even with the counter-vibration trick, the shadow-sword had cut halfway into his blade. It wasn't something he could afford to take head on with anything but the redirection trick then, how irritating.

Their sandevistans deactivated as cheerleader managed to flip around midair and land on his feet, skidding for a short distance in a crouch before righting himself.

"Well look at that, the closest thing you've done to damage since this scrap started." Adam taunted as he began to walk forwards. "You broke my gun, the least dangerous thing I have."

The cheerleader stayed completely silent as he rose and took another one-handed stance. His torso armor was looking rather rough overall at this point, from what little of it he could see underneath that tattered cloak of his.

Their speedware cycled again as he approached, and one more they burst into furious motion.

Cheerleader burst forwards, swinging the sword in a massive cross-chop. Adam rooted himself in turn.

He stopped the sword in his hand, letting the vibrations travel along his body. He swung upwards with his own sword, aimed at the cheerleader's head…

Cheerleader twisted, the blade passed him by millimeters. Their optics locked in a glare the whole while. Adam continued his swing, letting the tip of his sword tap the roof overhead.

The chamber was filled with light and rubble as the roof exploded outwards in a furious wave of kinetic energy.

He drew his sword back as the cheerleader shot at his midsection. His stance was still rooted, this was irrelevant. His sword came crashing down. Cheerleader raised his own sword in a block. Their swords clashed again.

Adam let the energy flow through his body. Both from the gunshot, and the clash of blades, to his left hand. Filled with energy enough to glow furious red to his thermographics, he stabbed the shadow-blade with his blade-like nails.

The shadow-blade exploded into millions of snake-like tendrils of tiny black strands.

The next instant they had reformed into a blade.

Adam's optics widened slightly. The blade cut into his arm, leaving a gash that split myomer and went straight to his titanium bones. He pulled his right arm back and punched the cheerleader in the face while his guard was down.

Their speedware cut out as they reeled back.

Adam growled as he took in the damages. The thing had cut through his armor and structure like fucking better. A better hit and he would've lost that arm entirely. Red armor, red structure, lower-arm actuator half-broken, two fingers non-responsive.

He growled, held his sword under one arm for a moment, reached up, and tore his left hand pinky and ring finger off. Shut up frame, it's just pain, deal with it. He had three fingers left on his left hand, more than enough.

He looked up to see the cheerleader rubbing at his face, working his now-broken jaw actuators. He didn't need that to talk anymore, so that was pointless damage. He was at a net loss for the last two clashes so far. Looks like the cheerleader was finally hitting a stride, which meant it was time to take things seriously.

He reached up to grab at his duster and shirt. Cheerleader glared at him just in time to see him rip it off entirely and throw it to the wind of the now very-exposed chamber. The cheerleader proved he was unoriginal by doing the same to his tattered cloak, ripping it off and throwing it to the air.

Alright cheerleader. You got his attention now.

He stomped forwards, not waiting for his sandevistan to cycle. Cheerleader fired off a few shots. He caught them as he approached, counter-vibrating to negate any non-superficial harm.

The rockerboy swung that bullshit regenerating sword of his. Adam rooted himself, and clashed with his own sword. The impact traveled to his fist. He stabbed at the cheerleader with his nails again.

Cheerleader twisted to dodge, but Adam's reach was longer. His middle-finger tapped against his side.

Cheerleader's side exploded as if hit by a railgun, a head-sized hole opening up in his lower torso. He staggered back for a moment.

A moment was all Adam needed. He unrooted himself and stomped forwards again, this time smashing his head against the cheerleader's, sending him crashing down into the floor.

The rockerboy tried to push himself up…

Only for his face to meet Adam's foot as he kicked him again. The cheerleader was sent flying, skidding to a halt just before the edge of the building and the hundred and twenty nine story fall.

"This is what I mean, Johnny-boy. You fight like pain matters. You fight like that much damage could still kill you. You're a fullborg now, nothing I've done so far should be slowing you down at all." He growled out as he stomped forwards. How to kill this pest? He was thinking he'd just let the fucker drop off, gravity could kill him for him.

This wasn't even worth his time.

The cheerleader picked himself, looking up to reveal a heavily cracked faceplate and nearly shattered armor. The hole in his side occasionally letting another loose scrap fall off and onto the floor below. He slammed his hand onto the ground in frustration, cracking the floor, before shoving himself up and swaying for a moment.

God it was embarrassing.

The rockerboy reached for his thigh, a compartment opened up there and he stuck his hand inside. He pulled out a… thing, that wrapped around his hand and molded into it, forming the vaguely familiar shape of a handgun.

Adam snorted, and activated his sandevistan.

The rockerboy aimed. He began to counter-vibrate, and punched where he knew the bullet was going to travel.

He couldn't even see the bullet move, even in sandy-time. His fist clashed against it.

His arm exploded into shrapnel and myomer. As did his shoulder. He staggered back as the wall behind him burst into rubble before finally the bullet stopped.

…that hurt…

Motherfucker that hurt.

He roared in fury and threw himself forwards. Silverhand raised his sword to block. Just before they clashed…

The black sword winked out of existence. Adam snarled in delight. Motherfucker had run out of power for his stupid sword. His own sword unimpeded, he cut off the fucker's arm at the shoulder.

The bullshit sword went flying, carried by the swing back into the chamber.

Adam threw his own sword back, reaching up to grab the fucker by the throat instead. Cheerleader struggled, clawing to remove the hand, but even his Gemini was strong enough to ignore this shit.

He pulled the rockerboy down to smash him against the floor once.

Then twice.

Then three times.

He lifted him into the air again, above his head, and glared at the shattered head, a third of it now completely gone. Cheerleader was still glaring at him though, which meant his brain was probably mounted in the torso instead of the skull.

That was fine though, the fall was going to turn him into splinters.

He walked over to the side of the building, speaking as he did. "Congratulations Johnny-boy. You made me take the fight seriously. Revel in that after you reach hell." He held the rockerborg over the ledge, gave a final glare, and let go…

…he let go…

…his hand wasn't responding to his orders. The rockerboy smirked.

Uriel's bodiless fire rushed back into his frame. He immediately attempted to flush out whatever was doing this to his systems, but was forced back and down.

…no…

…no no no…

…no no no no motherfucker!

Uriel's fire was grabbed by a massive hand made of starlight. As was Adam's frame. It squeezed hard enough for his mind to creak. He couldn't move.

The rockerborg smirked in tired victory. "Hey beautiful, what took you so long?"

Against his will, his frame moved. One step back, two steps back, three steps back, before dropping the rockerborg on the ground.

Gingerly, the rockerborg stood up, still having that infuriating sway, and glared at him for a few moments.

Adam was too furious to even think. All of his thoughts were replaced with a blinding white-hot rage. Uriel's fire was now practically incandescent with his fury.

Victory stolen by goddamn moments.

No.

Uriel strained as hard as he could…

But nothing was happening, he could barely move…

He had lost the moment he entered the tower, didn't he? The fucking net magic bullshit…

Uriel couldn't do a thing…

No.

Silverhand walked over to his sword, putting that gun-thing away again, and picking it up to sheath at his waist. Adam was forced to stomp after him, his and Uriel's resistance only amounting to constant jitters and shakes as he struggled to break free.

Silverhand turned to glare at him as he was forced down, the control on his frame forcing down like a hundred gravities.

They were trying to force him to kneel.

Force him on the ground.

No.

Absolutely fucking not. He propped his elbow on a half-bended knee, and strained for just a few moments more. Months of preparation leading to this fucking event? Months of his life wasted only to get the same fucking result!? All that time! All of it!

POINTLESS?!

…

They wanted him bowing as they killed him?

Fuck that.

If he was going to die, then he was going to drag them down to hell with him.

Adam activated his sandevistan.

Uriel slacked his resistance for a brief instant. Just long enough to make some space.

His fire burned red-black.

'Gridwave.' Uriel intoned, glaring at the leviathan of starlight he strained against.

The NET of Arasaka Tower was engulfed in an endless pillar of all-consuming flame.