Just as Spawn's team pressed the mercenaries into a full retreat, scattering them and breaking their ranks, an eerie, mechanical rumble resonated through the battlefield. From the shadows beyond the retreating mercenaries, the machines emerged, marching in lockstep with precise, calculated movements. Their red eyes glowed ominously, cutting through the smoke and dust, and their armor gleamed under the dim, hellish glow of the city.
Spawn paused, his gaze narrowing as he took in the sight. These weren't just standard machines-they were built for war. Thick plating, reinforced limbs, and a disturbing assortment of weaponry from mounted cannons to razor-sharp claws and energy blasters. They were crafted to endure, designed to kill, and programmed for one purpose: destruction.
Cherri's eyes widened. "What the hell are those things?"
Vaggie gritted her teeth, gripping her spear tighter. "Looks like Vox had a backup plan."
The machines didn't hesitate. They immediately opened fire, unleashing a barrage of bullets, lasers, and explosives. The first wave hit the makeshift barriers, tearing through concrete and scattering debris like paper. Mercenaries who were unlucky enough to be caught in the line of fire screamed as they were cut down, and the battlefield instantly shifted from controlled chaos to total mayhem.
Spawn motioned for the others to take cover, his own stance unwavering as he observed the machines' calculated assault. "Everyone, stay low and stay sharp," he growled, taking aim with his rifle. "We're not getting out of this easy. These things are built to last."
Niffty, undeterred and grinning wildly, zipped around with her blade ready, even as explosions rocked the ground around her. Cherri loaded up a few extra bombs, narrowing her gaze in determination. And Blitzo, catching his breath beside a smoking barrier, muttered under his breath, "Guess it's one helluva night for revenge."
Spawn shot at the mechs, probing got any form of weakness, yet it seemed that Vox had learned from what happened to Fleshrend, and these monstrosities were built to last. One got close to Spawn, engaging in hand to hand combat with its massive claws. Barely dodging, Spawn summoned his axe, realizing he was going to have to do this the old fashion way.
Spawn swung his axe with a powerful arc, the blade crackling with hellish energy as it collided with the machine's reinforced arm. Sparks flew, and the force of the blow knocked the mech back, but the armor barely dented. Vox had definitely upgraded these machines, layering them with plating thick enough to withstand even Spawn's hell-forged arsenal.
The machine retaliated, slashing with its massive claws. Spawn ducked under the swipe and countered with a savage swing of his axe, aiming for the joint in the mech's arm. This time, the axe bit deeper, severing a few wires and causing the limb to twitch. But it wasn't enough. The machine advanced again, swinging with calculated, brutal force, almost as if it could read his moves.
In the midst of his clash, Spawn glanced around, catching sight of his allies engaging in their own battles with the machines. Cherri was tossing bombs with pinpoint accuracy, the explosions rattling the mechs but barely slowing them down. Blitzo and the IMP team were taking cover, firing strategically to aim for any vulnerable spots they could see, while Vaggie, with her spear at the ready, jabbed at the mechs' joints, using every bit of her speed and agility to dodge their heavy attacks.
But these things were relentless.
Spawn gritted his teeth, realizing the only way through was sheer force. With a fierce snarl, he threw his full weight into the fight, his axe cleaving again and again into the machine's joints and power core. Finally, after a barrage of powerful strikes, he drove the blade into its chest, severing the core with a fiery burst. The machine sparked, convulsed, then collapsed in a smoking heap.
Breathing heavily, Spawn scanned the battlefield. "These things don't go down easy," he muttered. "If we want to survive, we're going to have to dismantle every last one."
Vox leaned back, a smug grin spreading across his face as he watched Spawn's struggle on the monitors. Every blow, every desperate maneuver from Spawn and his allies felt like a twisted sort of validation. After all the setbacks and the destruction of Fleshrend, Vox finally had them in a position where they weren't charging forward with ease but instead were digging in just to survive.
He adjusted his glasses, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes as he glanced over at Valentino and Velvette. "See that? All it takes is a bit of good, old-fashioned innovation," he said, tapping the screen where Spawn and his allies fought against the metal behemoths. "You throw a problem at me, and I don't just solve it. I perfect it."
Valentino nodded slowly, though he seemed more intrigued than impressed, as if gauging whether these machines were enough to actually turn the tide.
Meanwhile, Velvette couldn't tear her eyes away from the carnage. "They're putting up one hell of a fight, though," she murmured, watching as Spawn split a mech in half, only for another to take its place. "Think we've got enough of these tin cans to keep them down?"
Vox's grin widened. "I didn't just make them tougher; I made them smarter. They'll adapt. And every move Spawn and his little friends make, the system's learning. So let them wear themselves out." He folded his hands, feeling entirely in control as the mechs began to close in on the remaining defenders, pressing them harder with each passing minute.
"Let's see how long they can keep this up."
Spawn quickly realized the grim reality—while he could handle these mechs, the others were struggling. For every mech he dismantled, another closed in on his allies, forcing them into defensive positions. Vaggie and Charlie moved together, using coordinated attacks to fend off the machines, but their strikes barely left a mark on the heavily armored constructs. Blitzo and his crew fired wildly, aiming for joints and exposed wires, but even they were being worn down.
Husk tossed an explosive card that detonated against a mech's chest plate, but the machine barely staggered, advancing relentlessly with sparks dancing across its metal form. "You've gotta be fuckin' kidding me!" Husk growled, gripping his remaining cards tightly as he looked for cover. Niffty, though still grinning, was forced back repeatedly, unable to get in close without risking serious injury.
Seeing this, Spawn gritted his teeth, anger flaring as he realized Vox's trap was working—these machines weren't just built to fight him; they were designed to overwhelm his allies. He was left with no choice but to adapt.
With a growl, he called to his allies. "Everyone, stick together! We need to focus our attacks; aim for the same mech until it's down!"
Charlie rallied the others, trying to keep morale high. "Let's make it count! We're not going down without a fight!"
The group huddled, fending off mechs as best they could while focusing their combined firepower on one at a time. Though it was still a tough battle, they began to find a rhythm. Even so, Spawn knew it wouldn't last forever. If they didn't find an opening soon, they'd all be ground down.
Spawn watched as several people from Cannibal Town fell to the machines, as did several of Carmilla's soldiers. He didn't want to do what he was about to do next, as it would leave him feeling drained, even with all the sin saturating the air around them. But he had no choice.
Focusing his energy, he released a beam of pure necroplasm from the palm of his hand at the nearest machine, making it drop instantly.
He took a deep breath as the massive mech hit the ground in a sparking, twisted heap. The green energy still shimmered faintly around him, but he could feel the drain it had taken on him. Releasing that much power at once, even here, had its cost. His body was rigid, trying to steady itself after the burst, though he forced himself to stand tall.
Around him, silence fell as others stopped, stunned by the raw, destructive display. For a moment, the entire battlefield seemed to pause, with mercenaries and allies alike taking in what they'd just seen. Charlie, Vaggie, and several others glanced at him with awe and relief in their eyes.
Spawn exhaled sharply, shaking off the momentary weakness. "Keep pushing," he commanded, trying to sound stronger than he felt. He knew they couldn't afford to let up, even if that blast had managed to bring down one of the mechanical behemoths. The remaining mechs were still advancing, and he could already see more mercenaries rushing to close the gaps in their defenses.
Vaggie, sensing the strain, rushed to his side. "Are you okay?" she asked, concern clear in her voice.
"Yeah," he grunted. "Just needed to make a statement." His gaze was fierce as he scanned the battlefield, hoping his show of strength would inspire the others to fight even harder.
But deep down, Spawn knew he had to be careful. Each blast drained his energy reserves further, and there was still a long road to the tower. If he wasn't cautious, he'd be spent before they even reached the Vee's, leaving the others to fend for themselves. For now, though, he'd keep fighting, pushing through the fatigue—for them and for the goal they all shared.
While the concentrated sin of Hell did work to replenish his necroplasm reserves, Spawn knew that using an attack like that more than once in rapid succession would slow him down. The power it took was immense, and even in this place, the time it would take to fully recover wasn't instant.
And he couldn't afford that right now.
Spawn gripped his axe, gritting his teeth as he surveyed the battlefield. The mechs still loomed, their metal frames gleaming with reinforced armor, built to withstand the brunt of attacks from even Hell's fiercest. He could already see a few targeting him, calculating his next move as their gears whirred in unison.
Around him, his allies continued to push forward, but the toll was evident. Many were slowing, worn down by the unrelenting swarm of mercenaries and machines alike. They needed him to keep pressing, to lead the charge.
He adjusted his stance, mentally pacing himself. Charging up another blast was out of the question, not until he could afford the downtime that would come with it. Instead, he'd have to take them down bit by bit, wearing through the metal behemoths piece by piece.
He looked toward his allies with renewed determination, signaling for them to push onward. They needed him at his best, and he would do everything in his power to see them through this, no matter the cost.
Blitzo's usual bravado wavered as he took in the chaos around them. The mechs were far tougher than he'd expected, and the mercenaries kept closing in, undeterred by his team's attacks. They wanted revenge on the Vee's, but he hadn't anticipated how well-armed or prepared their enemy would be.
Looking over, he spotted Loona nearby, wrestling her way through the melee. She caught his eye, hesitation flashing on her face as they both realized how out of their depth they might be.
"Loona!" he barked, urgency clear in his voice. "Get up high and give us cover. Now!"
Loona began to protest, wanting to stick close, but Blitzo cut her off with a shake of his head. "No time for that," he said, his voice uncharacteristically serious. "We need you up there, watching our backs."
A second's pause passed, then Loona nodded, determination settling in her eyes. With a swift glance back at Blitzo, she bolted, scrambling up a nearby structure for a vantage point.
Loona made her way to one of the roof tops, hoping that Blitzo and the others could hold out long enough. Once there, she immediately got her rifle set up, ready to provide cover from high.
Loona quickly adjusted her scope, scanning the battlefield below. She could see Blitzo, Moxxie, and Millie fending off waves of mercenaries and narrowly avoiding the mechs' crushing blows. It was chaos down there, with explosions and gunfire filling the air, and she knew every second counted.
Settling into her position, Loona took a deep breath to steady herself, then zeroed in on her first target—a mech closing in on Millie from behind. With precise aim, she squeezed the trigger, and a well-placed shot rang out, puncturing a vulnerable spot just behind its shoulder joint. The mech jerked, momentarily distracted, giving Millie a chance to dodge and retaliate.
Loona allowed herself a small grin as she scanned for her next target, picking off enemies wherever they threatened her teammates. She kept her focus sharp, knowing she was the thin line between them and the mercenaries' onslaught.
While Carmilla's soldiers felt the strain of the relentless fight, they remained vigilant, determined to let nothing—no machine or mercenary—get anywhere near her or Zestial. Each of her troops fought with razor-sharp precision, their blades flashing under the dim hellish light, matching the mechanical hulks blow for blow. Their discipline and skill held the line, but the tension was palpable, and their movements showed just how deeply they were pushed.
In the midst of this chaos, Zestial watched Spawn work his way through the battlefield, nodding with a knowing grin. He stood steady amidst the din of battle, his posture calm as he took in Spawn's form, cutting down foes with brutal efficiency.
Carmilla, noticing his expression, couldn't help but ask, "What's caught your eye?"
Zestial's gaze remained fixed on Spawn as he replied, his voice carrying its blend of old-world gravitas and modern slang, "I knew it—this one, he holds within him the unbreakable spirit of a warrior. Few walk among us with such fire in their soul, nor wield it like he does."
Carmilla's eyes narrowed thoughtfully as she followed Zestial's gaze, watching Spawn as he dismantled another towering mech. He tore through it with raw power and calculated skill, his every movement precise and deadly. She could see the energy crackling around him, an almost primal force that made each of his strikes feel like an unstoppable surge.
She realized, with a new depth of understanding, just how fortunate she was to have listened to Zestial's counsel and avoided any confrontation with Spawn. Witnessing him at his most powerful on the battlefield, she couldn't deny the grim truth: facing him as an ally was one thing—but as an enemy, he could have brought ruin unlike anything she had ever encountered.
One of the mechs, lurking just outside of Spawn's line of sight, seized its chance as he turned his attention to dismantling another nearby. The metallic beast surged forward, catching him off guard, and in a flash, it had him pinned to the ground. Its massive, clawed fist loomed above his head, gears grinding as it wound up for the lethal blow.
For a split second, Spawn's eyes narrowed, his gaze fixed on the fist descending toward him. But in that moment, his chains reacted with lethal precision, springing to life like serpents. They shot out, wrapping around the mech's arm and tightening with a bone-crushing grip. With a swift, powerful motion, the chains yanked and twisted, severing the arm cleanly from its joint.
The mech froze, a dull whir of machinery stuttering as it tried to process the sudden dismemberment. Spawn's chains didn't give it a second chance, coiling around its neck and torso like a web of iron tendrils. With one final, brutal pull, the chains tore the machine apart, scattering pieces across the battlefield. Spawn rose from the wreckage, his eyes gleaming as his chains recoiled back into place, ready for whatever came next.
From her vantage point above the fray, Loona scanned the chaotic battlefield through her scope, watching as more and more of the mechs advanced with relentless force. Her bullets barely slowed them down, and though she managed to pick off a few weaker mercenaries, the machines were proving tougher than anticipated. But Loona's sharp gaze didn't miss a beat, and soon she noticed something — the mechs were moving in formation, converging toward a single point on the battlefield below.
A sly grin tugged at her lips as her eyes darted upward, catching sight of a massive, rusted water tower perched on precarious beams not far from where the mechs gathered. An idea took shape instantly, and Loona whistled sharply down to Spawn, catching his attention. She pointed up at the water tower, signaling her plan with a nod and a quick, confident gesture.
Spawn looked up, eyes narrowing in focus. Immediately, he understood her intention. Giving her a brief, approving nod, he dashed toward the tower's base, his chains whipping out to catch its supports. In perfect sync, Loona readied her rifle, covering him as he began to work.
Spawn gritted his teeth, muscles straining as he wrapped his chains around the base of the old water tower, digging deep for the strength to pull it loose. Every tug sent vibrations through his body, and he could feel the tower's weight resisting, the rusted metal groaning in protest. Up on her perch, Loona kept a sharp eye on the battlefield, her rifle trained on any mech or mercenary who dared to get too close to Spawn.
With a final heave, Spawn pulled, and the weakened supports gave way with a resounding crack. The massive water tank tipped, teetering precariously for a split second before it finally toppled forward, crashing down like a steel tidal wave.
The impact was explosive. The force of the tower's descent crushed dozens of mechs beneath its weight, the metal caving under pressure as water surged out, sweeping over the remaining machines. Sparks erupted where circuits were exposed to water, and the few mechs still standing sparked and sputtered, their movements slowed or stopped entirely.
Spawn stepped back, breathing hard but with a grim satisfaction behind his masked face, nodding up to Loona in acknowledgment of her quick thinking. The battlefield was momentarily still, his allies regaining ground as they realized just how devastatingly effective the move had been.
Cheers erupted across the battlefield as Spawn's allies witnessed the crushing fall of the water tower, a decisive blow to the Vee's relentless machines. Cherri pumped her fist in the air, Husk gave a rough laugh, and even Blitzo cracked a wide, wild grin. The Cannibal Town volunteers howled, newfound energy igniting their bloodlust, while Carmilla's soldiers nodded with respect, some exchanging glances at this dark ally who had taken down more machines in a moment than most could in an hour.
Spawn's eyes narrowed as he raised a hand, his voice cutting through the rising cheers. "Enough celebrating! We're not done here." The stern tone settled over them like a chill, the focus and grit returning to every fighter's face.
"You think that's all they've got?" Spawn continued, his gaze sharp and unwavering. "Stay sharp. There's plenty more where those came from."
His words struck a chord. Weapons were readied, grips tightened, and in the stillness that followed, every ally remembered just how dangerous this fight still was.
Inside the Vee's tower, the air had grown still, all the casual arrogance evaporated as Valentino, Vox, and Velvette stared at the screens in stunned silence. They watched the chaos unfold, the last of Vox's highly prized mechs crushed beneath the weight of the water tower. What was once a coordinated line of mechanical power was now a jumbled wreckage, sparks flashing, metal twisted, and all signs of their lethal intimidation erased in moments.
Valentino leaned forward, blinking as though the act might somehow make sense of what he'd just seen. "Did… did he just bring down a whole damn water tower? By himself?" The disbelief in his voice was clear, even as he tried to regain his usual nonchalance, but the shock made his words falter.
Velvette, her fingers anxiously curling and uncurling, looked to Vox, her usual playful tone replaced by something far sharper. "Well? What now, Vox? Please tell me you didn't blow our entire defense budget on those tin cans."
Vox's gaze stayed fixed on the screens, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then, a slight smirk flickered at the corners of his mouth. He wasn't shaken—if anything, he looked oddly pleased. "Oh, don't worry," he replied coolly. "I've got something a bit more… classic in mind."
Without another word, Vox's hand hovered over a red button on the console. His eyes gleamed as he pressed it, his voice dropping into a steely command. "Send out the armor. Let's make this interesting."
The screens flickered to a view of the city's edge, where, in response to his order, massive bay doors opened. From the shadows, the hulking forms of armored tanks began to roll out, their turrets swiveling, heavy with ammunition. The ground itself seemed to shake with the roar of engines as armored vehicles trailed in behind, each outfitted with reinforced steel and weaponry designed to withstand anything Hell might throw at them.
With a grim look, Valentino crossed his arms, nodding approvingly. "Alright, now that's more like it. Let's see if he can handle a taste of real firepower."
