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| [*] Congregation of Armies; Rise of the Badniks | |
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| Topic Started: Oct 19 2009, 12:09 AM (85 Views) | |
Fission 
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Oct 19 2009, 12:09 AM Post #1 |
Believe in me who believes in you!
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Ayreon trudged across the never-ending desert. It had been nearly twenty hours since he had been released from his watery prison, and the irony of the situation was not lost to him. Besides the quicksilver of the horizon, there was no moisture in sight. Something drew him this way, across the desert and into the badlands of the northern continent. He could see the large spires of Rail Canyon rise high into the air, several Extreme Gear junkies racing across. A buzzing in his brain pointed in that direction, like a compass; he turned his head, it swung over toward the canyons. The sun had set and risen, and he had continued to walk. This was his exodus; his ultimate purification before destiny. He had seen objects flying through the sky travel toward the deepest canyon, and the pounding in his head, brought on by the buzzing, increased with each step. His blue white shirt and green shorts offered little protection from the sun, and he was afraid he could soon fry within his own scales. He would molt soon, his first molt since his "birth"; he could already feel his skin loosen on him and his vision had clouded slightly. The sun rose high in the sky, and he slowly peeled the plated skin from his face, throwing it away. It fried in the blaring heat. It had cooled significantly, but the desert still pushed at his back toward the canyonlands. After tearing the semitransparent scales from his feet and hands, he maneuvered down a cliff face, falling part of the way down, afraid the seven ton boulder above would fall on him; to his surprising dismay, it did not. More and more objects--metallic objects in various shapes, colors, and sizes, Ayreon had seen--had appeared, and his head was engulfed in a full-out migraine. He could barely see, his vision blurred with pain, moving forward as his super-developed brain seemed to push against his skull. As he crossed a ridge and looked down into the deepest of the canyons, an egg-shaped imprint--he saw the armies that had collected. Egg Pawns, several lower versions of Metal Sonics, all the various, abandoned Badniks that Robotnik had created over the years but had left after his many defeats: all had gathered. His mind cleared as he saw a single figure standing atop a turtle-shaped robot. His spikes jutted back violently, the chrome reflected a garish light, and his red eyes peered and commanded. He was the first to notice Ayreon, and beckoned him. A bee-shaped Badnik wrapped around the back of Ayreon's head, wires forced into his small, biotech organs. So, Metal Sonic Mk VII thought through the drone, You have arrived. Ayreon continued on, unhindered by the accessory. So have you. Metal Sonic Mk VII, rampant Robotnik creation and possible conqueror of the free world. Please... "Call me Seven," he said. Ayreon reached the base of the turtle mech and was brought by the drone to the top, the Badnik painfully detaching itself. "I am Ayreon." "Organic Matrix #3. You should have driven the ARK into the atmosphere when you had the chance." "My goals were yet to be conceived at the time." "I'm sure. I have a proposition for you," Seven's LED-displayed eyes bored into the blue lizard. Ayreon was not affected. "A complex being such as yourself should appreciate that hard work that has gone into the planning and execution of the congregation of armies." "It is both above and beneath me." "Metaphors are cheap talk. Let's make a deal." Seven lurched forward, his metallic faceplate nearly touching Ayreon's still-molting skin. His voice erupted with vile tenacity. "I have an army that are worth little more than one hand's worth of dirt without someone to lead them. I was not designed for such things: I have little more processing power than to power my own complex brain. You, however, have the brain worth a thousand organics." "I would assume GUN is you target." Ayreon's teeth showed behind his lipless face, morphing into a sort of grimace. "Of course." "Then let's begin." The sun rose high overhead, and Metal and Ayreon had been at work since the wee hours of the morning. Their final preparations were taking shape; soon, they would attack. Their target, the GUN base on South Island, was far enough from any reinforcements to be an easy victory, especially after the destruction of the Prison Island base. They also had a Chaos Emerald; though Seven never mentioned this, Ayreon could feel it in the bits of energy that leaked from the robotic villain. With his black claws, Ayreon fitted the last panel onto his platform of attack. It was simply a loose association of parts salvaged from the Badnik army, but when he entered it it would become a powerful force. He would be almost as unstoppable as his partner in crime. He shifted from the shade to sun to keep his energy-filled body at the perfect temperature, warm blooded though he was. His mind--or, at least, one of his focal states--passed on to his short time on the ARK, but that shifted towards the coming battle. Their plan was simple, at least on the surface: attack from the sea with flying Badniks, then come from the south with their main forces. GUN would not be able to hold on for very long, not after the powerful EMP/virus combo Ayreon had concocted in his brain and placed within one of the old Metal Sonic models. The EMP was only powerful enough to turn out the lights and security systems; data would be spared, as would their armies. The thought of the look on the soldiers' faces almost made him smile. Almost. Seven, meanwhile quickly repaired and synchronized the Badniks at his disposal. Many had been damaged during their travels, or before, during their defense against Sonic the Hedgehog. Others were overgrown with vines and plant life and the occasional splatter of wildlife feces. Regardless, they had all fallen under Seven's control, even the Metal Sonic models. He formatted their memory quickly and reassigned them individually: air defense, ground support, and, of course, the all-important EMP delivery. The sun reached its precipice as they finalized their forces. Ayreon lowered himself into the large turtle mech, the storage compartments holding the pieces for his personal attack weaponry. The head and legs retracted as the shell spun around, jets and anti-gravity engines boosting it into the air. The flying Badniks rose with him, many grabbed the ground-based Egg Pawns. They organized themselves by Ayreon's command, acting in perfect unison. Seven floated in the air above Ayreon, his armored body gleaning in the daylight. In his AI core, he exhibited a rare ghost emotion: pride. And the armies went, off over the canyonlands and over the ocean. GUN satellites detected them--did nothing. Fishermen and cargo ships spotted them--did nothing. Finally, the GUN naval forces caught them on radar--alarms were not raised. They were coming, and the world would soon change. Ayreon grinned, teeth interlocked.. Edited by Fission, Nov 2 2009, 06:11 PM.
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9:56 AM Mar 20
