Android 13
Bridgetown had been a moderately sized, ultimately unimportant city that didn't get a real description by Gero's scout robots till Number 17 and Number 18 had wiped most of it out in their big fight with… Trunks.
[Trunks Briefs: Saiyan]
[Family: Bulma Briefs (Mother), Vegeta (Father)]
[Threat Level: C]
[Location: Unknown]
[Techniques: Unknown]
[Equipment: Sword]
[Notes: Mentored by Son Gohan]
[…]
Everything he knew about Trunks told him that the boy wasn't a threat. 13 had nothing against collateral damage, hell, he'd love to let loose when he got the chance, but this was just more evidence of the teenage traitors lacking discipline.
Playing with their food was apparently all 17 and 18 had done for the last 20 years. From giving Gohan chance after chance till they finally got bored with him, to whipping Trunks up and down a whole city instead of just punching through his fragile human chest. They had wiped out Goku's friends quickly and efficiently, so whatever defect had been introduced had come later.
Lack of maintenance, had to be. Or maybe it was their human half. It would explain why they were so damn lazy about wiping out humanity as well.
Their instructions were clear – Kill Son Goku, kill his friends if they interfered, and when the job was done return to the lab. Maintenance, hibernation and the satisfaction of killing the most powerful fighter on Earth, the man who took everything from Dr Gero, that was the reward. 13 was a killing machine, and proud of it.
Android 17 and 18's actions made no sense. They had killed Dr Gero! How could they have killed their creator?
Why leave Gohan alive for so long when he was their only remaining target? And a high priority one at that since his death would hurt Son Goku.
Why waste so much time when it came to the mission that they had given themselves, eradicating humans? They devastated cities but let them be rebuilt. They went on sprees of senseless violence that barely put a dent in the population, then turned around and erased whole towns at random.
They had to be malfunctioning.
13's opinion of the cyborgs dropped the more he studied their files. No wonder he was being sent to bring them in; the real question was why they hadn't been activated sooner!
So here he was, looking down on Bridgetown with 14 and 15 flying alongside him, staring at evidence that the failures who had betrayed the Red Ribbon Army were also failures when it came to destroying cities.
It only took a moment to realise that something was very wrong here.
Bridgetown should have been a flat, empty crater. Yet he saw evidence of rebuilding. Rubble was cleared, roads were repaired, wrecked cars were piled up in makeshift junkyards and prefabricated homes were sprouting in the less destroyed neighbourhoods.
He was nearly annoyed enough by the cyborg's lack of follow-through that he was tempted to go down there and kill them all himself.
But he didn't have to. The strange thing was, while all the evidence of people rebuilding was here, the people weren't.
"Now this is downright peculiar," 13 said, uncrossing his arms from his chest as he descended from the air to the streets. His partners followed silently. The three of them scanned the city, first with general optics then with energy scanners. The results were the same.
The city was completely empty.
It didn't fit. What, they'd spent all this time fixing things, then just left? The cyborgs had come back to finish the job, and been extra careful about it? No.
The three androids landing on the cracked pavement was the only sound on the street. He hadn't paid much attention to it in the sky due to the wind, but down on the ground the silence was deafening. It didn't bother him, he wasn't human, but it was… anomalous.
"Well boys, what're we thinking? Gas leak?" 13 joked, smile plastered on as he looked around the area. Data scrolled through his vision as his eyes flicked over the locale. This had been part of the shopping district and had been spared the worst damage. Could've been using it for anything now – but judging from the empty display windows no one was setting up shop anytime soon.
'Food on table. Two dishes. Spoiled. Jackets left on chairs.'
'Truck. Tank 70% full. Key in ignition. Uniforms left in back.'
"Look," Android 14 grunted, pointing down the street. It took only a moment to identify what had caught his attention.
Spent shell casings, scorched concrete, blood trails. Evidence of violence that he'd missed from above, with the much greater damage on display.
"Good work 14," 13 smiled, rolling his shoulders as he followed the blood splatters. There were three distinct tracks, all going the same way, down the street and around the corner.
MISSION: CAPTURE #17 & #18!
His optics flashed red as his internal display was dominated by the message, "Yeah, yeah, keep yer shirt on, I'm just – "
13's processor froze as it was faced with an unpredictable scene.
The street ahead was covered in clothes.
Shirts, pants, hats, all sorts of clothing just lay there, clinging to overturned cars, piled around a makeshift barricade, impaled on the broken glass of a storefront.
A strong gust of wind howled through the hollow streets, sending the empty garments into eerie spirals, drifting toward the androids like fallen leaves.
13 just stared, not quite computing what he was seeing.
He snapped out of his frozen state when he felt something flutter against his leg. He looked down. A small yellow hoodie, child-sized, caught on the tip of his boot.
He reached down and picked it up.
"Now this," he muttered, his Southern drawl quieter than usual, "ain't natural."
The blood trail had gone cold just around the edge of the building, and there weren't any bodies. There was just this… absence.
Android 15 hovered closer to what had been a restaurant and picked a watch and necklace from the ground, "This is just creepy as hell."
Android 14 passed by 13 to rip the door from one of the cars and fling it away. He reached into the car and pulled out a crumpled business suit. The giant examined the suit jacket intensely before letting it go, "Puncture detected. The damage matches the other clothes."
13's HUD pinpointed the hole in the front of the jacket splayed at 14's feet, then cross-referenced that with the other items visible across the street. That confirmed the analysis for him: all the clothing that covered the upper body had identical punctures.
'Probability of #17 or #18 being involved: 15% and dropping'
"Good news is, this wasn't the doing of our fine rogue downgrades, which means this ain't our problem." 13 drawled, taking another glance around the area. "Might even say whoever did it done us a favour after all."
"That right," 15 muttered, bringing his flask to his lips. "How'd ya figure?"
"17 and 18 sure as hell ain't here, that's how." 13 shrugged, glancing over at 14. "So, I say we wipe this dump off the map, make sure it stays wiped out, and move on. 14, reckon you can do the honours?"
"Understood," Android 14 said, his voice as flat and cold as ever. He raised his arms above his head, fingers locking together. A searing blue glow ignited between his palms, swelling into a sphere of condensed destruction. With a low grunt, he hurled it downward.
In an instant, the three androids relocated, vanishing into the sky just as the blast hit.
The explosion erupted with a deafening roar, an all-consuming violent tide of energy swallowing the city's core. It surged upward in a crimson column, a burning spear splitting the heavens. The ground convulsed, the air trembled, and the force of the blast sent shockwaves screaming through the sky.
Buildings ceased to exist, reduced to ash, then nothing. The inferno raged, devouring everything until only a gaping crater remained, its edges melted into smooth, glassy earth.
'Good riddance. The place was giving me the creeps.'
"Nice shootin' 14!" 13 laughed, pressing his fingers to the front of his hat to keep it from blowing away in the surging wind. Android 14 merely folded his arms over his muscular chest, expression unreadable as he watched the dust settle.
"Now," 13 continued, readjusting his hat, "accordin' to the database, next best spots for findin' our targets are West City, Ginger Town, and Parsley City. That's three spots… and lucky us, there's three of us."
15 frowned slightly, lowering his flask, "Splittin' up don't sit right with me, boss."
13 gave him a sideways glance, then grinned, "Ain't askin' ya to like it, 15 - just to do it. If one of us finds 'em, make a real big mess. That'll bring the rest runnin'. Simple enough?"
No objections. There wouldn't be. They didn't argue. Didn't second-guess. That was the difference between them and those arrogant cyborg brats.
13 smirked, "Good. Let's get huntin', boys."