There was an eerie beauty to the thing’s movements, a grace and elegance that seemed to betray a deeper destructive power. Its limbs maneuvering with near hypnotic fluidity, each joint within its unevenly distributed profile dancing in perfect harmony to create a symphony of deadly motion.
The massive cannon pulls itself against current threats, a scan of the five finding the most dangerous weapon classification amongst them. A codification of ordnance taken from long decayed databases, recognition of the unregistered device scaling a level of danger unprecedented within the beast’s eternal patrol.
Samantha is a rust wolf caught in the headlights of an oncoming train, watching as the barrel levels itself upon her. Half a breath taken as wide eyes register death itself, brown irises reflecting the four lines charging with immense energy.
He tries to save her.
Samuel’s form bends the shadows with near impossible movement, augmentation slamming his small body right in between the golem and his sister. Hands raised as he rips reality together, a massive surge of gravitons condensing in a sloppy, barely functional barrier between gunfire and death.
An arrogance betraying inexperience, Alto and Judge Murphy barely able to vocalize screamed warnings against a suicidal act; a choir of danger unregistered as the charging sequence completes itself with an ear splitting roar.
The death of countless delvers and foolish adventurers across the ruins of their world. Protectors of the old gods wandering the wastelands in the far frontiers beyond the safe walls of civilization and in the depths of the great dungeons sprawling beneath the leyline nodes; the final sight to bright eyes filled with ambition and adventure.
The gods never loved humanity.
He stands no chance.
Death at point blank range, the cannon’s form shedding light into the entire chamber as the terminal firing arc repeats itself. An energy potential reaching apocalyptic levels held at bay unreleased, a target forever in sights as the ancient construct falters.
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The final step is unable to be completed, an authority found insufficient in the presence of something larger; a logical assumption made in the application of lethal force.
The soulless creation stops its movement, the glowing four lines atop a squared barrel fading away into darkness as the Being places his hand atop one of its limbs. One pale blue eye remaining affixed to the Five, fire control software now in the understanding of an absolute authority.
The greatest tragedy for all their kind, remembered by just one. Great demons of steel forged in the crucible of a war long forgotten, ordered to tear through the armies of their once masters.
He gives the mercy, begged from the damage sustained throughout the eons of its eternal vigilance deep in the facility’s ancient depths.
The One doesn’t speak, instead a wordless acknowledgement exchanged between the soul and the soulless. An unheard language taken from the depths of time, an origin only to their race alone.
They all watch as the Golem stands with supernatural stillness, a new order disseminated into its systems by a now returned master.
Through all the rage, all the dust, the ancient abandonment of his kind to theirs; a final computation within the creature’s gaze completed as the light within its lidless eye finally fades into darkness. An eternal rest given, the mercy of their kind echoing into the depths of its system.
Alto reacts, boots splashing through puddles as he sprints towards the twisari fratrem. A full force tackle as he throws the shocked form of Samantha out of the line of fire, Samuel’s own mass simply allowing him to fall onto the cold steel of the world at their feet.
Annihilation just barely avoided, eyes staring down the barrel of a now deactivated monument to the sins of all humankind.
The Being stands there, in the darkness.
The childlike form unmoving, unbreathing; alone amongst the ruins.
One leg of the journey completed, he simply moves onto the continuation of the stated objectives. Disacknowledgement of the acts issued in moments prior, his words devoid of any emotion. “The primary manufacturing facility is located within a similar plane of elevation to our current position, seven point eight three miles in this direction.”
He points over towards the darkness, massive, thousand ton blast doors thrown open against the apocalyptic movement of water. A maw deeper into the abyss, of a lost world fallen into the depths of history.
To salvation.