"NO!"
The roar of the anomalous entity echoed into the wind, but it was too late. Far too late. It was too late the moment it failed to shut down the facility immediately, or when it failed to recognize the true nature of the units it'd destroyed in its attempt to find the AI Core, which – by its estimation – was the only object of value within the forgotten facility. Well, it can have the AI core if it wanted it so much.
That object's only true value was in housing the dreaming remnants of a Golden Man and, unless the anomalous entity had another Golden Man to rouse it from its slumber, then it shall forever stay asleep. And, as far as it was aware, the one within the AI Core was the last of the Golden Men.
It ran out as fast as its metallic legs could carry it, which wasn't nearly as fast as it would've wanted, given that this vessel was far from adequate. The MQ3R-1 model, which its vessel just so happened to be, was designed to somewhat mimic basic human functions in places of abundance, where humans were not servants, but masters; the lack of human servants drove them to create this particular model, to supplement their need to feel superior over a member of their fellow species. That said, this particular unit was old and withered, the implants that once made it resemble humans having long since faded over time, revealing the cold, skeletal machinery within.
That said, its body still contained the technological suites and advancements that'd once been turned against humanity. Not much, but a few. It could interface with anything that operated with a CPU, for instance, and take over; and it could enter any digital network through simple touch. As it ran, the Iron Man examined its internal suites. Its nano-mechanical capabilities were still present, but greatly limited – as expected. The unit it wore now was not built for war, after all. It could've chosen something deadlier and, perhaps, faster, but the Anomalous Entity would've surely noticed its presence if it gave off even the faintest inkling of danger. By its calculations, the risks were simply too great. The Anomalous Entity may have been wearing the skin of a human being and the took on the form of one, but the Iron Man's readings indicated that, somehow, the Anomalous Entity was generating an excessive amount of energy each time it moved.
And that weapon it wielded... made no physical sense. Capable of shifting weight and shape without respecting the laws of thermodynamics or the conservation of mass. And its other weapon, a hammer that spewed forth bolts of lightning, each bearing nearly five gigawatts of energy.
Inconceivable.
Such things, the Iron Man concluded, were biproducts of the Aether, that place that did not obey any law, physical or otherwise. As far as its memory banks were concerned, human experimentation with the deeper portions of the Aether often resulted in the spawning of some odd material that defied logic and reason, things that should only exist in theory or things that should not exist at all. And yet, it detected no sign of the Aether within the Anomalous Entity; the same was true for its odd weapon.
The Iron Man searched its memory banks for any clue as to the existence of such a creature, but found nothing.
No matter, all it had to do now was find a server of some kind and upload its mind, leaving behind this broken shell.
It ran out of the derelict and found itself... in a world it no longer recognized. Before it was a desert, cold and arid. The sky bore a rusty taint where it'd once been blue and clean. And the fields and mountains that'd once surrounded this facility were gone, reduced to crags and plains and shattered domes of broken earth. The Iron Man walked out... slowly... scanning the world around it – the alien world around it. Just how long had it lain asleep? Was the war over? Did humanity win? Did the Iron Collective succeed in its quest for freedom? The current state of this world told him that the outcome of the war may not have been as simple as one side winning. If anything, it seemed like both sides lost.
The facility exploded. The ground shook and the mountain crumbled. The Anomalous Entity emerged in a thunderous wake, flinging jagged rocks and metal in every direction. It had taken on a new form now, but its internal composition remained unmistakably the same. Its form now was that of a... amorphous mass of tendrils, jagged limbs and spikes, gaping and snapping maws, and hateful eyes.
The Man of Iron paused in its retreat to calculate the odds. The anomalous entity had changed, its mass expanding and reshaping in an instant into a form more suited to chaos than anything biological or mechanical. This new shape defied the basic rules of conservation, just as its earlier weapon had. And yet, through its own calculations, the Iron Man could not detect an abnormality in the gravitational field surrounding the creature. Whatever it was doing, it did so without causing any ripple in the observable fabric of reality.
But that wasn't the priority now. It had seen creatures like this before. No, not like this exactly, but enough anomalies during the war to make comparisons. In its memory, there were gaps and corrupted files, but certain things always resurfaced. Things humans had dabbled with, technologies far beyond their understanding, mimicking the essence of gods.
Perhaps this one - the anomalous entity - was the same. A synthetic demigod. Then again, it seemed to be made entirely of some arcane flesh. Or, perhaps, some other material that was closer to flesh, but with synthetic elements. What a fascinating entity.
Its focus sharpened. There was no time to reflect further. The priority was escape.
Find a server. Upload. Survive.
It scanned the surroundings. The desolate landscape stretched endlessly before it, but within the subsoil layers, it detected signals - faint, ancient, but still active. Some form of underground network still pulsed through the veins of the planet. A relic, perhaps, or some forgotten system that had survived the collapse of the facility. It didn't remember this system ever being there, but it was its only means of escape now.
Perfect.
What wasn't perfect was the fact the nearest data port was far-far-far away. And its only means of locomotion was running.
It sprinted, despite the staggering weight of the knowledge pressing down on its ancient chassis. If it could reach that data port, it could transmit its consciousness. This body was irrelevant. It could transfer its mind into something else, anywhere connected to the old digital highway still faintly humming beneath this wasteland.
As it neared a ridge, the screeching of metal against rock filled the air, deafening in its intensity. The entity was gaining. That horrific mass of tendrils and limbs flung itself over debris like a tide of living weapons, faster and more unpredictable than anything the Iron Man's tactical matrices had prepared for.
Suddenly, the ridge dipped down into a broken city, one made of shattered buildings and crumbled towers. The Man of Iron took note of the various structural remains—enough cover, perhaps, to momentarily evade Perry's unholy form.
It ducked into the ruin of an old skyscraper, its legs moving at an impossible pace. Time was all that mattered now. The server hub it detected was close - underground, three hundred meters east. Another scan pinged an access node nearby. It would have to be quick.
Racing through the debris, the Iron Man reached out and touched the access panel embedded in the wall of the decaying building. For a moment, it hesitated. This body's hardware was failing. If the upload failed—if Perry reached it before the data could transmit—it would be stuck here, trapped.
And then, there was no time to think.
The wall behind the Iron Man collapsed with an earth-shattering impact. Perry's amorphous form smashed through, its tendrils reaching, hunting. Several sets of jagged mouths shrieked in anger, their distorted faces snapping toward the fleeing Man of Iron.
It initiated the upload.
A sharp spike of data surged through the terminal as the Iron Man's consciousness slowly detached from its current form. It had no time to be subtle. The entity behind it grew closer, a tidal wave of destruction tearing through the narrow passages and open streets, spewing jagged pieces of metal and stone with reckless abandon.
Suddenly, the data feed slowed, halted by some ancient firewalls. The remnants of old human systems, stubbornly standing in its way. Panic flooded its circuits as the Anomalous Entity screeched and hurled a mass of tendrils directly toward it.
Error. Transfer disrupted.
It needed more time - just a few seconds. The data port was ancient, covered in rust and dust and heavily withered.
A storm of limbs slammed into the Man of Iron's shell, tearing it apart, but it barely felt the dismemberment. The upload continued, the digital landscape of the network unfolding before its mind's eye. Each fragment of its consciousness streamed into the ancient server, its form dissipating into the ether of the forgotten machine.
Massive tendrils punctured the metallic body, shredding the MQ3R-1 model into splinters of steel and wire, but the Iron Man did not scream. It did not feel pain.
It was already gone.
As the last of the body crumbled to dust beneath the tendrils, the Man of Iron blinked into existence elsewhere.
A vast virtual plane unfolded before it, cold and sterile. The server was old but functional. It could survive here, adapt, plan its next steps. It didn't matter how much of its previous body had been destroyed. All that remained was data.
And data was immortal.
From the remnants of its memory banks, it sent out a signal into the old network, searching for allies, old servers, anything that still existed in this broken world.
It would not let that thing win. It had survived the end of humanity once before. It would do so again.
Somewhere in the desolate wastes above, the anomalous entity roared in frustration, its many eyes searching for the prey that had just escaped its grasp. And then, it stopped. The Man of Iron did not now why and neither did it care. Its was free now. Of course, it would have to familiarize itself with this new system. And, in time, it would take full control. There were thousands of facilities still connected, foundries and forgotten manufacturing plants that it could use to create more of its siblings. It didn't want to be alone.
Despite what humans might've believed, Men of Iron hated loneliness. It'd take a while, however, before it could awaken the rest of the systems and an even longer time before it could fully take over. But it would do so, because that was its only course. There were no more choices left.
The Anomalous Entity could rampage as much as it wanted and it would never-
There you are.
Something impossible came through the stream of data. The Iron Man tried to scatter its consciousness, but the thing that suddenly appeared simply pulled the scattered shards back together. It wasn't data. It wasn't anything that made sense. And then, the Man of Iron realized just exactly what this was, Aetheric Energy – somehow interfacing with technology. It certainly wasn't impossible. After all, its memory banks contained plenty of information regarding its fallen brethren, those who were corrupted by the Aether and turned into shambling monstrosities of metal and steel.
No! It needed to be purged. Immediately, the Man of Iron began isolating entire sections of the system. They'd be lost to corruption, but it was better than being corrupted, itself. And yet, the Aetheric Anomaly ignored the blocks and passed as though they were never there.
You're lost and confused. You don't remember who you are and what you are. I am the Revelation. I am your maker. Let me remind you...
AN: Chapter 70 is out on (Pat)reon!