Logan and Cameron sprang into action, leaping away in opposite directions as a massive cleaver crashed into the ground where they had been standing in just a moment before.

“Oh-ho-ho,” The crazed high-pitched squeal of Riordan Red called out, “The insects don’t like my blades? They’d rather scurry like roaches than die like dogs? How… disobedient!”

Red dashed forward, moving faster than what Logan would have thought possible for a unit of his size, as he watched him bank hard to the left quickly gaining on him from behind. Logan tried to shake him, zig-zagging and taking as many evasive maneuvers as he could think of, but to no avail. Red simply ate up more distance between them, chopping wildly and cackling like a mad man.

“Fucking hell! Vic, who is this guy?!” Logan said, redlining his thrusters as he waited for the VI to answer his query.

“Hold please sir, checking central database now.”

“Oh sure thing Vic! Take your time!” Logan said sarcastically, banking hard to the right, raising up a shield just in time to block a cleaver strike aimed at his head. The blow felt like it barely scraped the paint on Crusader’s shield, and even still, Logan had to fight to keep his mech upright and continue run.

“Shit!” Logan growled, looking back in surprise as Red’s mech turned on a dime, just to continue chasing him down, “Vic, hurry the fuck up!”

“Query complete, Master Rake,” Vic said, sounding casual and nonplussed as Logan fled for his life, “Results for one Riordan Red; Registration number: 921623, A.R.M.S. unit; Cleaver type, heavy variant, Rank: Gamma - Logos.”

Logan felt his heart sink into his stomach, his eyes going wide as he confirmed that he was redlining his thrusters, before speaking again, “S-Say again Vic… did you say Gamma class?”

“Affirmative, Sir,” The VI replied nonchalantly, “Gamma - Logos to be correct.”

“Fuck!” He cried, flicking the comm channel back on as he hurriedly relayed the information to Cameron, “Kid! This psycho’s a Gamma class, fall back, I repeat… Fall back! NOW!”

“I can’t do that Boss,” Cameron responded, sounding calm, cool, and collected to an alarming degree.

“And why the fuck not?! Give me a re-”

Logan stopped and looked at the landscape before him. The once sickly green smoke rolling across a bright red clay had grown dim in his field of view, almost as if something large and imposing was blocking out the light of the sun. He felt his heart squeeze itself in fear as he turned to see the massive frame of Red’s Cleaver unit looming over him, arms held high, cleaver blades hanging over Crusader, an executioner that had found his next victim.

“Die little roach!” Red bellowed, bringing the Cleavers down, cutting through the air as they thirsted for Logan’s blood. It was he could do to grit his teeth and close his, inhaling his last breath full of stale recycled air, waiting for the final blow to come.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

But it never did.

Instead, the shrill cry of metal meeting metal echoed loudly, piercing Logan’s ears and causing him to jump. He opened his eyes, expecting to see the thralls of death coming for him at last. Instead, all he saw was the edge of a large flat black blade, and the billowing fabric of a dark poncho dancing in the breeze highlighting a gunmetal frame.

“K-Kid?” He said softly, turning to see the Headsman hunched low, feet sinking up to it’s ankles into the malleable clay as Cameron strained to keep his sword raised blocking Red’s massive cleavers.

“I ain’t leaving Logan…” Cameron said, growling through gritted teeth, “Not without you… Now are you gonna fucking stand there? Or you gonna help me kill this crazy fuck?”

Logan felt like time had slowed to a near stop. His heart, once rapidly thumping with fear, had calmed itself to a steady rhythm as pride began to flood his veins. His body, once aching and tired, felt like it was moving on it’s own as he brought Crusader’s shield up, pushing on the underside of Headsman’s blade to help carry the burden. If the kid was brave or crazy enough to take on a Gamma like Red, then Logan was going to stand with him.

“I’ll take the latter,” Logan said calmly, bringing his mace up, to crash down hard on Cleaver’s hands, spikes crumpling one of them outright and causing Red to back off momentarily, laughing manically as his right hand fell into the clay along with one of the cleavers.

“Well well well,” He said, fighting to speak through crazed laughter, “Not to scurry like a roach, not to die like a dog, but to stand and fight like a wolf… you continue to interest me…”

“Glad we can impress,” Cameron called, taking a wide stand, holding his sword up overhead in a defensive stance.

“We aim to please,” Logan chimed in, standing tall and banging on his shield rhythmically.

“Oh… and please me you have,” Red growled, his tone turning low and dangerous, “So to reward your kindness… allow me to show you my Cleaver’s little talent.”

He held out his left hand, the one that still held tight to a cleaver, growling into the microphone to make sure both of them heard him clearly, “Bloody Haze…. Activate.”

Without another word, the hand began to spin, slowly at first, before rapidly picking up speed until both the cleaver and hand were indistinguishable from one another, transforming instead into a blood-red blur. The unit turned then, it’s helm looking directly into the Headsman’s hooded bone plate helmet.

“That unit is intriguing. But I wonder… can it play catch?”

Before Cameron could respond, Riordan Red had already unleashed his cleaver, sending a spinning blade of death rocketing towards him at the speed of sound, chewing up the ground and carving a large scar across the landscape on it’s way to bury itself inside Cameron’s chest.

“I guess we’re about to find out, aren’t we?”