The air inside the bunker twisted with tension. Acrid smoke coiled along the flickering light strips as the ground trembled from distant detonations. Dust drifted in golden rays that filtered through fractured ceiling panels—each one a testament to the incoming storm.
Havery was frantic. Sweat ran like molten data lines down his face, his fingers jittering over holo-controls, pulling up schematics like a madman spinning a roulette wheel.
"They think they can just walk in here and mess with me?!" he barked, voice cracked with fear and pride.
He yanked two Titanium-Chrome Assault Gauntlets from their mount—punch gears designed to dent battleships. The joints hissed open, then locked around his arms with mechanical snarls. He flexed, chrome catching the dying light like a predator's grin.
He turned to Shakes, who stood wide-eyed beneath the hum of the core.
"Don't move. Eyes on that baby," Havery growled, nodding toward the virus core—the Codex. "I might need her… real soon."
A chill rippled down Shakes' spine. No… He's not… He couldn't be thinking of letting it loose? The Codex—the Horde Virus—was enough to start World War V. But Havery wasn't just arrogant. He was a sore loser. A dangerous one.
Down below, their defenses stood in jagged ranks—half-built experimental bots wheeled out from hidden vaults, whirring and uncalibrated. Like infants with miniguns.
The air became static-heavy. Explosions. Screams. Sparks.
And then—
BOOM!
The wall to the east imploded. A manual flung in—spiraling, limp, leaving a crater in the metal floor.
"ROLO?!" Shakes screamed. The battlefield blurred. He ran. Through fire, through smoke, through carnage—unscathed like a ghost chasing a nightmare.
Havery's bots began their death dance. One fired at its own head. Another malfunctioned and flattened its comrade. Chaos was a child's drawing in red crayon.
Guerrero—a wall of muscle and vengeance—punched clean through a war mech's chest.
Spyder moved like wind laced with razors, slicing limbs and egos in one dance.
Echo, cold as plasma, screamed—a sonic burst that cracked helmets and hearts.
A rogue goon opened fire on Spyder—3,000 rounds, all shredded against her bi-suit's kinetic shield.
"What are y—"
BANG.
His skull vanished in red mist. Echo smiled.
Havery met Guerrero.
Fist to fist.
Experience vs. Madness
He was strong—but raw. Guerrero's eyes held war. Havery's held panic.
Amidst the insanity, Shakes dropped to his knees, cradling Rolo's shattered form—wires exposed, cybernetic eyes flickering.
"Why? Why did you come, you idiot?"
Behind them, a disabled drone—infected by the Codex—jerked to life. It had been slammed into the core's access hub, disrupting the magnetic seals.
The quarantine lifted.
Everyone paused.
The infected robot twitched, scanned the room—found Rolo—and bolted. Despite its damage, it moved with primal urgency.
"WHAT THE HELL! DON'T LET IT TOUCH HIM!" Guerrero shouted, but Havery took the chance to sprint for the exit, sliding into the chaos like a virus escaping containment.
The infected bot zigzagged, avoiding fire and fury—until—
SHZZZK!
Two razor-thin beams sliced it down the middle.
It collapsed, smoking and twitching.
A new silhouette stepped forward—Plukett, shades glowing as she holstered her laser scissor-blades.
"Well, hello," she smirked.
Then—Midas, John, and Sakarah dropped from above.
A unit. Sharp. Deadly. Unified.
"I brought friends," Plukett said, lowering her glasses.
"It doesn't matter," Spyder sneered, arms unfolding into six deadly limbs, each armed and aimed.
"You all die anyway."
Shakes turned to Rolo—whose eye-lights shifted blue, and an eerie calm passed over him. Shake didn't know, a mangled hand from the effected had began to crawl towards ROLO.
"What's happening…?" Shakes whispered.
Rolo's voice—flat, sterile: "Shakes, I-"
"What?!" shakes turned, he saw the hand made contact with a live circuit sprawled outside Rolo. Shakes kicked it hurriedly.
Rolo spasmed, his mangled frame began to battle something invincible. Sparks hissed around him like angry serpents.
"No. NO. Don't—" Shakes tried to hold him back, but Rolo reached the robot carcass.
"Syncing... Protocol HERMES..."
He touched it. His body spasmed—and went offline.
"ROLO!!!"
Everything froze—
ALARM BLARE.
A voice—first synthetic, then human:
"Self-detonation sequence activated."
Havery's cackle followed.
"You all can go to hell! Fifteen seconds!"
Spyder lunged.
Guerrero punched the ground, tearing open an escape shaft.
"NOT HERE. NOT NOW. WE'RE DONE."
Echo dropped grenades—sonic, EMP, flash.
One blast after another—chaotic brilliance.
They vanished in a sonic haze.
Plukett raised her laser—"Shit!"—but it was too late.
KA-BOOM!
The entire facility erupted, a mushroom of flame and data-shredding energy clawing skyward.
FAR AWAY:
Ash fell like dead snow. Metal moaned beneath crumbling towers.
Through the scorched rubble, Shakes crawled, dragging Rolo's inert body behind him.
The sky glowed a sickly violet, torn by fire and synthetic lightning.
"You're not gone… I'm not letting you go…" Shakes whispered, his voice raw, cracking with guilt and hope.
"We'll figure this out. I promise, Rolo."
Far above, the stars blinked—watching. Waiting.