Image of Enevelen having her head shoved into the ground by a large black metal arm, her visor shattering upon impact. [https://i.vgy.me/yiQNww.png]
Enevelen's head was slammed into the dirt by the firm grip of her rival, her neck straining to remain attached to the rest of her metal body. She clawed at the massive angular black armor surrounding his arm, attempting to pry him from her face. She felt the ground leave her as he lifted her head into the air, her body wriggling violently and pointlessly before he again slammed her down into the desert's inner flooring. From the second impact, a large crack appeared along her visor, a sight that made Enny's eyes widen in fear. She was not worried so much about what harm may befall her if her protective visor were to shatter, but rather the exorbitant cost that replacing or repairing such a thing would require. The idea frightened and infuriated her, and the resulting adrenaline rush gave her the strength needed to break free of the monster's grasp. Her lanky body collapsed into the sand, allowing her an opportunity to jump for her pistol, which had been tossed a few meters away. It wouldn't be enough to kill the antique black monolith super soldier outright, but perhaps a well-placed shot could slow him down.
Now a good distance away, she was able to turn and face him. She flinched as she did, expecting him to be inches from her face. To her surprise, the large rival hunter had not moved and was instead standing quietly, observing her. He seemed to be clutching something, and she realized, patting at her unprotected face with her free hand, that the monolith had gotten ahold of her visor.
With little effort, he crushed the black reinforced glass shield into particles with his massive clawed hands. It shattered like a priceless porcelain vase in a seismic press. Enevelen gritted her teeth in frustration.
"You absolute cunt," she growled.
Enny fired off several shots at the hunter's head. She hadn't had time to remove her silencer, so the bullets rang out across the empty desert as a soft pap! papapap! She hadn't expected to be using this gun during the mission, as the monster's arrival had been a surprise, and thus no prep work had been done on it beforehand. Her rifle had been jettisoned several miles away after having been snatched from her hands, and then tossed violently into the stratosphere. She'd be able to find it and repair it later, of course, but first she would have to take care of this beast.
The imposing figure began to stomp towards her, and she continued to fire, though the bullets ricocheted off of his polished black chassis without so much as a dent. They ripped a hole or two in his wide-stretched poncho, though the damage only added to the damage left by his previous victims. She pictured them grabbing wildly at it while he tied their frail bodies into humanoid pretzels.
Montagne Noire was a bounty hunter hailing from the infamous prison-like island in the former French-Canadian territory of Quebec, a gloomy and frightening place surrounded on all sides by oceans of acid. The island sat atop several nation-states that had not been as lucky in avoiding the great floods, and thus the area had become isolated from most other landmasses. It was rumored that never-ending storms of acid rain were a regular occurrence on the island, keeping it bathed in a perpetual state of wet, burning darkness. Those few who still occupied former Quebec had developed a reputation for having highly-developed survival instincts, an uncompromisingly violent demeanor, and for being especially introverted when it came to social situations. Noire, or "Monty," as Enevelen affectionately called him, was no exception. He would often visit the mainland of the former United States-Canadian western deserts, usually on a job, and she'd end up encountering him in a ramshackle bar or a hotel or something, often strangling another patron to death in a heated rage. He could never be reasoned with, being that most of his human consciousness had evaporated from excessive reliance on augmentations to complete his work. The cyborg was a killing machine, a relic from the military period that had birthed the augmented era. Had they been under the rule of the same authoritarian power at the time, Monty would have been included among the ranks of Black Monolith soldiers that had preceded and inspired her own induction into the Formation's super soldier program.
It was strange, looking at him now, among the dry and expansive dunes, that for someone even older than she, his chassis was so well-polished and without damage. The rumors about this line of soldiers being incredibly durable were obviously true. Even under full blast of the Hourglass Desert's blazing sun, he did not look a day older or more worn than he would've if they had met in the mid-twenty-first century. His continued existence was a true feat of human engineering, she admitted, though still a very threatening one.
In a moment, Monty was on her in a bulldozer-like tackle. Similar to what he had done with her rifle, Enny had thrown his electronically enhanced, break-action shotgun, far into the distance, partly because she dreaded the idea of spending another afternoon picking buckshot out of her chest, but also because she erroneously assumed it would make the hunter less of a threat. She hadn't considered that perhaps him crumpling her up like a piece of paper would be a much more painful fate.
The bright sun burned her eyes, her destroyed visor no longer able to protect her from the elements. She was unable to stop him from pummeling her into the sand yet again, a big cloud of dust and dirt floating up into her eyes and throat. She coughed violently as she pulled her body away from the cyborg's grip, taking the opportunity to grab and wrap her shawl up and around her head to protect her face. In doing this however, it gave Noire another opportunity to take ahold of her leg, catapulting her up into the air and sending her careening across the sky.
She screamed, her body tumbling through the wind, flailing wildly as the distant ground ran circles around her vision. Blue, yellow. Blue, yellow. The blue sky and its accompanying spotlight sun came from below, racing to the top of her view before being followed by the massive yellow dunes of the ground. After that, she was met with the sky yet again, and then again the ground. The spinning of her body as it careened through the air, coupled with her screams, almost made her want to laugh. She'd tumbled out of open airlocks a few times during military airlifts, a novelty blooper or two from her otherwise spotless record of merciless killing and excessive violence during that otherwise frightening era. It was a silly memory, almost nostalgic.
The impact of the ground was sudden and fierce, her body leaving a trail of dirt behind as it dug itself into the sand. Spitting the ground from her silicon mouth and nose, she lifted herself from the impact crater and brushed her chassis of debris.
Her eyes caught the sight of a figure standing a handful of meters ahead of her, a meek thing in ragged clothes, clutching a rotten leather satchel. She recognized him almost immediately.
"Ah, hello there," she called out. The figure squeaked in fear, having just observed her surprising entrance from above, and standing with metaphorical jaw dropped in complete shock. She decided to continue. "You're the bounty head I've been looking for, yes? Your former employer asked me to kill you and retrieve the materials you'd stolen. I assume those are them in the bag?"
The figure shook himself from the state of surprise, attempting to issue a response.
"S-Stay away! You crazy bitch!"
Enny shook her body free of debris and cracked her bionic knuckles. She lifted herself from the ground and began to approach him. He tumbled back onto the ground in fright, screaming incoherent thoughts of confusion and terror.
"I need to feed myself, honey, you understand," she mumbled in reply, her casual walk transforming into a sprint. The bounty head shrieked as he struggled to escape his fate.
In her tunnel of vision, a predator chasing prey, she neglected to observe Monty's massive fist careening into her frame of view from behind, feeling as it connected with the plates on her back. It snapped their durable metal frame slightly as she was thrown to the ground. While on her chest, attempting to lift herself back to her feet after the sudden attack, she felt his massive mechanical feet stomp down on her damaged spine, crushing her yet again into the dirt. She was not seriously injured of course, as cyborgs had an incredible super-human tolerance for bodily harm, though her vision had begun to blur from damaged data receptors in her whiplashed inner neck. She could not move, struggling against the weight of her rival as he gripped one of her writhing arms. Enny watched as the bounty head rounded the corner of a sandstone cliff, escaping her grasp yet again as she felt her left arm leave its socket.
She did not feel pain from the dislocation, though as she grasped at the wound with her other hand, she realized past her shoulder there was nothing. The arm had been completely removed, though she could still feel it being grasped by the monster standing atop her. Realizing an opportunity to escape his clutch, she mentally ordered her disembodied arm to begin slapping at Monty's face, which it did. She felt around with it, grasping at his ocular region, using her immense bionic strength to jab a finger or two into his electric eye socket. She heard him give an electric, guttural scream of rage as his weight lifted from her body. Collapsing back onto the sand, she watched as Noire grasped fruitlessly at the arm, attempting to pull it off of his face. It was like yanking a leech off of flesh, her finger pulling and squeezing at whatever wiring it could manage to get to behind his ocular plate. She could feel it pinching the wiring and flesh that remained behind, and laughed at having reduced the frightening beast to the position of a raging child.
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Having obtained a firm grip of Enevelen's arm, she watched as the cyborg violently pulled the appendage from his head, taking a frightening string of optical and mechanical gunk with it. A hole sat where his left eye previously did, though Monty did not seem to notice this. He tossed the arm into the distance, and Enny felt its connection fail as it disappeared over the horizon of the yellow dunes. She would attempt to find it again after the fight had concluded, similar to her rifle. It could be easily reattached at least, though at a rather steep price no doubt. This was not the first time another hunter had torn off one of her limbs, though it had never been an ideal injury to repair.
As a damaged Monty began stomping towards her, with her remaining arm she retrieved her knife from a pocket in her baggy pants. Flicking it out, she analyzed possible options of what she could feasibly accomplish with the weapon. It was dull, but it was small. Perhaps it could cause injury if introduced between the hunter's plating... Though unfortunately, it would not be an easy task to obtain the ideal proximity for such an attack without getting another limb ripped off... and even then, with her vision obscured by her shawl and her face open to the inhospitable elements of the desert, there was no telling if she'd be able to even see an ideal opening in his body, aside from his exposed cornea, wherein she'd be able to pick at anything seriously damaging with the blunt knife. Monty would not likely allow her even a chance to get near his face with anything sharp after the previous injury. Unfortunately, the weapon wouldn't be much use against him anyway. It was a nice knife, and very pretty to observe in the desert sun... but totally useless in any situation of combat.
Perhaps she could use it to nick a tendon in his foot or leg? It would be a sensitive enough area to cause major distress, even if it wouldn't be enough to cause any significant damage. From a brief scan of her memory, she couldn't remember Noire's model being too well reinforced in that area. She pondered the option. Enny didn't want to give him another opportunity to stomp on her back again. Getting near one leg would inevitably leave another three limbs free to do whatever he wanted with her. This was not an ideal situation for her to be in.
As he approached her, he stared her down with an intense glare from his remaining red, laser-like eye. Out of desperation, she considered a very stupid idea. The hunter at this point in his life was likely almost entirely dependent on automation in his mind, being that he had devoted almost the entirety of his being to killing and efficiency. A cyber soldier in his early years, and an inhuman machine in his old age, perhaps she could attempt a classic psychological trick?
"Th... um...," she struggled to find the words. "Everything I say is false!"
Monty paused in his tracks. Had it worked?
In a low, guttural, monotone voice typical of cyborgs of his pedigree, he replied with a slow, menacing intensity.
"Quoi... T'es sérieuse?"
Enny cursed to herself. She did not know French. A paradox wouldn't work on him unless she was familiar with his language.
"Uhm, uhh," she continued, invested in milking the strategy and totally out of options. "C'est... uh... se la vee.... erm..."
"Vouliez-vous dire : « Cette phrase est fausse? »," the beast replied.
"Y-yes! Yeah.. that sounds right uh... setty... phrase est... fauss..."
Monty shook his head in disappointment, before continuing his approach. Enny, out of options, decided to make a run for it. Rounding the corner of the sandstone cliff behind her, she did her best with her limited eyesight to navigate the maze of walls and same-colored desert cliff faces that made up the tightly packed area. Breathing heavily, she struck an unseen rock in her path, collapsing onto the ground and screaming in fear that would be immediately beaten to a pulp by the brutish cyborg that was inevitably chasing seconds behind.
However, looking up towards her would-be killer, she found nothing but sandstone walls looming over her collapsed, damaged body. Using her remaining arm, she picked herself up from the ground and stood silently. She listened in the echoing space for Monty's aggressive footsteps, careening after her to presumably rip out her cybernetic spine, but surprisingly, there was nothing but the rustling of the wind between the cliffs. Her heavy, frightened breathing was the only thing audible beyond the slow, cautious steps of her bare metal feet on the cavernous path's soft sanded ground. This was very strange.
Retracing her steps with the shaking tension of a small frightened animal, she quietly poked her head back around the other side of one of the walls she had passed, careful not to make her presence too audible if Monty were to suddenly appear.
Surprisingly, she observed him in a similar position to where he had begun to approach, frozen in place. His leg was outstretched as if to begin the chase, but otherwise he was completely still. Amazingly, she observed, the paradox had worked.
She approached his statue-like body, seeming stuck in a logic loop. Enny circled him, observing his body up close in a state of fascination. A muscular beast of cybernetic pistons and silicon, he was a clear early progenitor of augmented military applications. Enny's proximity to him was an equivocal experience to encountering an original nineteen-oh-eight Ford Model T, or maybe something of a unique rareness and aesthetically menacing like a nineteen-thirty-eight prototype Phantom Corsair, as the ancient vehicle and Monty's sleek reflective armor shared a somewhat alien, dated aura. Ancient automobiles were all Enny could think to compare him to at the moment, as in his trapped, mentally stuttering state, he resembled the image of a machine rather than an artificially augmented man. She had been correct in her prediction, she realized. His humanity had mostly eroded, like so many other cyborgs in the current era who had completely devoted themselves to their work and their augmentations. There was not much left of him otherwise, besides the machine.
In his weak, struggling form, Enny observed that he looked much more like a damaged station wagon than an actual person. The thought made her somewhat nauseous. Circling to his front, she observed a frightening and unpleasant view of his torn face, his eye socket rippling and boiling with blood and oils. The wiring inside his head sizzled and popped like firecrackers as his internal mechanics struggled to rectify the logic of her paradox. They'd likely be stuck in a state of internal maintenance for several hours, she rationalized, but the sight of him exposed and corrupted like this caused her to upchuck a small amount of sizzling bile from her stomach. The burning in her throat forced her to keel over as she struggled to remove herself from the sight. It was awful to look at, she couldn't bring herself to think that that monster had at one point been a person. She clutched at her exposed mouth, the rebreather failing to catch a majority of the acidic puke that had begun crawling out from her mouth and onto her uncovered face. It stung her skin, and once she had made her way back behind the wall, she let the sauce fall to the ground as she groaned in pain. The boiling puss-filled liquid ate away at the sand, leaving behind a terrible stench as she struggled to remove her shawl from her face. It had been stained by the smell, and she found herself tempted to vomit yet again just from its exposure.
She could not see as well due to the sun stabbing into her electric green corneas, but she was able to recollect herself somewhat and relocate to a slightly darker, shadowed area of the sandstone underpass. The crack of the sky above her burned at her vision, and without her visor, she could not see beyond a few meters of the cavern ahead of her. She was in poor condition. Finding the bounty head would be an impossibility in this state, let alone killing him with no useful weapons and a missing arm. She'd have to come back later once she had undergone emergency maintenance to retrieve her things, if the scavengers didn't find them first...
Then again, how would she be able to afford the maintenance without completing the hit? If he got away, her wallet would end up with a monetary dent the size of a lunar crater from the cost of reattaching the arm alone. Even worse, walking back to town with her face uncovered in the desert sun would quickly dry up the organic parts of her face again, and possibly leave her requiring even more expensive repairs... she was beginning to panic. What could she do? The bills would be enormous, she would have to take six times as many jobs as usual to even consider beginning to pay their steep cost... she couldn't screw up this hit at a time like this... it would ruin her life...
"Stupid hunter!" a voice yelled from behind her, as she felt a tiny foot connect with her lower back, pushing her onto the ground. Oh thank goodness, it's him.
Looking up behind her, with squinting eyes, she saw the bounty head laughing down at her, clutching his satchel. He had discovered her among the tunnels, covered in her own burning vomit, a puddle of which she had just now been pushed down into.
"You tried to kill me, everyone keeps trying to kill me... what's wrong with you people? Damn machines, you're all obsessed with your 'commissions' and your 'maintenance,' Do you realize these are real, human lives you're dealing with here? You're killing people!"
A ringing in Enevelen's ears had manifested from her unprotected head hitting the ground with such force. She could not hear what the man was saying to her, but he sounded angry. She lifted her head slightly, feeling a cool dribble of something crawling out her nose. Lifting a finger to her face to inspect it, she observed her hand and discovered an oily bloodstain on it. The push had given her a bloody nose. Great, she thought to herself, another bill.
In a moment of white-hot fury, ignorant of her inability to see, Enevelen pushed herself up from the ground, her muscles flexing from pure rage. Blind to her power, she grabbed at the man's neck, clutching his throat with a grip equivalent in force to that of an industrial trash compactor. He screeched in pain, which was followed by the sickening crunch of his larynx collapsing between her tight metal hands. Blood crawled out of his open, humanoid mouth as he gasped for air like a dying fish, his hands pathetically clawing at her artificial, mechanized wrists. His eyes bugged like inflating balloons, and Enevelen dismissively dropped his limp body to the ground as she seethed in unbridled anger. Her eyes stung red, her breath hoarse and panting in animalistic rage as she stared down at his crawling body, grasping at his destroyed neck, which was struggling to maintain a weak hold on his wobbling head. With a single stomp of her puke-stained feet, the being stopped its writhing.
Enny stared down at the mess with her chest rising and falling, her heart beating fast. She took a deep breath and tried her best to recollect herself after the wild tantrum. Another deep breath followed that, as she closed her eyes.
A notification appeared on her internal HUD, several thousand credits had been added to her account for her collection of the bounty.