Orion was in the workshop tinkering with a new ingot of metal he was looking to shape into a tool of some sort when the alarm went off again. It had been a couple of days since the last visit from Nazis, which was another ground incursion in the Higher District, and he was looking forward to the excitement.
This time, the readout told him it was a single airship coming in from Europe to drop off some troops in the Commerce District. He looked over at the Clockwork and nodded.
The game was on. Quite literally a competition.
Orion had bet the Clockwork that he could get the same number of people downed as the metal protectorate, to which he had accepted. Or, at least, from what Orion could tell, seeing as the machine didn’t talk.
Yet. That was another planned modification that Orion hoped to see through at some point, but there was a lot of technology behind it he didn’t fully understand yet, and the Gearmaster had been of little help for the past two months. He had grown obsessed with trying to figure out where Syndra was, but other than that group of dead people on Blood Moon Island, there hadn’t been any leads since.
Orion hopped onto his partner’s back, as always, and they took off for the northern-most part of the Commerce District, where the airship had just landed to drop its people off. It was a quick five-minute flight at a high speed, and they smashed down in front of the dock with the group still unloading.
“Remember to count,” Orion said, revving up his rocket boots.
The crowd of Carmsborough civilians, who at this point had learned that when the two of them showed up, there would be a fun scene to watch, stayed a respectable distance away from the two vigilantes and the small army of Nazis that had just arrived in their country. They also watched as Orion got the first hit, driving his already weathered shield into the face of one of the fascist men.
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One for Orion.
Two for the Clockwork, as he smashed a duo together and threw them into the ocean.
The human vigilante pulled out his baton and began slashing and mashing people, defending himself from bullets with his shield as the need arrived. His number steadily ticked up—two, three, four, five.
Eight for the Clockwork as he smashed a man through the dock and into the torrent of water below.
The airship rose from its docked position, and a few guns aimed at the two of them. Orion stopped dead in his tracks and curled up into a ball again behind his shield, despite knowing the blast from even a bullet would send him home in a casket if it made contact. Airship rounds were far different from pistol bullets.
The Clockwork quickly rushed up to the airship and began driving holes into it. It threw its shield on a little too late, and in the span of fifteen seconds, it imploded, taking however many people were on board with it. The Clockwork emerged from the flames, standing in front of the small group of Nazis who were still left on the ground, and asserted his dominance.
And they gave up.
They dropped their weapons and put their hands in the air, and five minutes later, police and the military arrived to take them away. Orion wasn’t sure what was going to happen to the group, but he was sure that the Clockwork had undoubtedly won the bet. Five versus eight, plus however many were on the ship, plus all the rest of them who had immediately surrendered.
“Not fair,” Orion said, approaching his partner. “Rematch. Next time, no airship, and no surrendering.
The Clockwork’s eyes flickered.
As they were wrapping up to go back to the shop, Orion’s phone buzzed. Not his watch.
He forgot he even had the thing. It had come in the mail and only had one number on it. The one that was calling at that very moment.
“Agent Ike,” he said, confused. “Glad to hear from you, I hope.”
“Yeah,” a voice on the other end replied. “Been a while. Two years.”
“I’ll be honest. I’d expected you were going to call me at some point before now. Maybe even two months ago, when the Steam War restarted.”
“Well, it hadn’t really called for it yet. Hey, I’m in town right now, wrapping up one last little loose end here. I’m sure you heard about the incident with the museum a while back.”
“That was you?”
“Well, yes, and no. The point is, we’ll meet again here soon, but there’s something else I need you to do.”
“What’s that?”
“The Cogwheel Renegades are in the Housing District, and they need your help.”
Orion stared off into the distance. “That American group that killed Hitler? What are they doing here?”