It was one of those weird moments where the whole world seemed to freeze, giving the ability to observe every single detail of the scene but instead leaving no possibility to change anything. It seemed like a huge joke, even mockery – to see how the situation was deteriorating in real slow-mo, but to have no saying in any regard, presenting a single option – to brace yourself before meeting the outcome head-on. In Robert’s case, it was a quite literal comparison as multiple projectiles were in the midst of flight, aiming to turn him into a colander.
Still, there was no fear or even worry in his mind. Just regret about the whole messed-up situation. Rob felt that he was a hamster in the wheel, running in the same spot despite all his efforts. From the moment he died in the bunker and was brought back to life by Wepwakor, Robert was always pulled by the stream of events. Even a few times when he actually made a choice didn’t change anything dramatically, switching from one flow to another. And each of them always revolved around death, blood, and gore, normalizing them to the point of becoming a thing not worth mentioning. The several situations where he got a break couldn’t be named like one as being stuck in a motionless statute for months or even years didn’t make any good to his broken mind.
And now, just another group of humans wanted to put him into a new cage. Robert knew that they might have their own reasons to do it. He did kill a guard, still carrying the droplets of blood on his body. He did appear inside a potentially restricted area during an outer attack, being not registered and looking like a real villain with his huge frame and questionable appearance. He did overreact with killing hits to even the smallest signs of danger. He did threaten to make his way no matter the cost of such an action. Still, he tried to address his unwillingness to do it, to avoid the violence, to avoid more deaths. However, their fear of his capabilities together with his own inability to tolerate any threat couldn’t end well, resulting in an inevitable attack. Especially after mentioning the prison.
Therefore, watching how hundreds of bullets and a dozen grenades were flying toward his body, Robert mentally sighed. The fact of acknowledging the situation surprisingly calmed him. After so many years on the different battlefields, just another life-threatening situation brought clarity to his mind. The need to focus on the fighting threw all problems, worries, and unwanted thoughts away, bringing an odd tranquility. Maybe this was what was called a state of being an adrenaline maniac. But this simplicity in solving the situation had its own attractiveness. No need to worry about other's reactions, no need to stop yourself, no need to think about consequences. Just a single goal – to kill everyone, who threatens him. Then Robert blinked, pushing the world back in motion.
The non-stop wave of explosions and hits attempted to crush him, falling onto Rob like a powerful hail during the storm. The heat, the strikes of multiple fragments, the shockwave from blasts, and obviously direct strikes – everything tried to tear him apart, destroying the parts of his metallic body, while throwing the remnants back through the broken door. At least it tried, as Robert was ready for it. Setting the reactor core on the maximum output he could handle, he returned his weight, turning himself into an unmovable mountain. His body was already recreating any damage he got, easily outperforming the enemy’s effort with ease. A moment later Rob made a first step forward. Heavy, slow, it sounded like a drop of something huge onto the concrete floor. The next one followed in a second, while the third came even faster. Accelerating, Robert charged forward with a primal roar, shortening the distance in no time.
His hand was already holding a mace, making a swing. This time the weapon had quite a few adjustments to its form, having a tiny, spiked ball on the top, and a long handle, which increased reach by a noticeable margin. Moreover, Rob pushed an additional weight directly on the end of the weapon, turning it into quite a deadly killing instrument. An instant later it started to fulfill its purpose, reaping the lives of the agents. Cutting through the air, it smashed the nearest body, sending it flying. Barely decreasing its speed, the mace continued its way before shattering the head of the next agent.
There was no pause in Robert’s actions. His mind was perceiving everything, tracking multiple targets at once. And not just that, but control over the reactor or the conjured weapon, the sensation of being hit by bullets with further repairing his body, and many more. Rob’s brain was working like a supercomputer, operating with hundreds of operations in time just to turn him into a killing machine. The absence of pain when another projectile crumbled against his tough skin only added the feeling of controlling a mech, and not his own fleshy shell. Considering his years of experience, it only raised his battle efficiency.
Ducking under the flying explosive projectile, shot from the hand-handled grenade launcher, despite the closeness to other agents, Robert made a step to the side. Stretching his hand with lightning speed, he gripped the neck of the nearest enemy. Clenching his palm and feeling how something was breaking underneath, Rob threw the opponent onto others, preventing him from keeping the fire rate. Turning in the opposite direction, he watched how his arm was already dropping down. The armed agent tried to dodge the strike but was too slow to avoid it completely. The sharp spikes cut through his face, leaving deep marks and blinding him in one eye. Falling on the floor from the sudden pain, the man tried to roll out of the danger, but Robert’s foot was already in motion, crushing the ribs under an enormous weight. Rob himself was already pushing forward, copying the heavy tank that was breaking through the trench line.
Launching into another group, he halved their number in just two swings and a few kicks, leaving broken and mutilated bodies behind. Pausing for a moment in an attempt to pick a rifle, Rob felt a strong push from behind that attempted to knock him down. The direct hit of the grenade created a deep wound on his back, while tens of fragments pierced his body. Still, there was barely any pain. Only an uncomfortable feeling of foreign objects, nothing else. The thought brought an odd wave of anger on his current condition, resulting in a hast response. Turning around, Robert threw the rifle. Surprisingly, its trajectory coincided with another flying grenade, causing another explosion in mid-air. Such a high position covered the whole area with metal projectiles, leading to devastating effects. Not that it mattered by this point.
Acting because of fear, the group of agents underestimated Robert’s capabilities to withstand the concentrated rain of bullets, which led to more casualties from the friendly fire than from his mace. The whole confrontation barely lasted for a dozen seconds but the ruined hall with tens of dead and wounded was looking like a battlefield. Torn limbs, bloodied clothes, gruesome injuries – everything looked like a horrible massacre. Glancing around one more time, Rob started to recreate his metallic flash with a mental command. The fragments of the grenade began to fall on the floor, being pushed out from his body together with dust that had filled his lungs all this time. Rotating his shoulders to check if everything was good, Robert walked toward the exit of the building.
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That bitch got away… To hide after sending her group to the death – it’s beyond my comprehension. Did she know the future result? Or was she scared? Previously, she didn’t seem to ponder before attacking me personally… Oh, I see what she was doing.
Stepping outside, Robert found himself on the wide street of what seemed to be an ordinary megapolis. Multiple skyscrapers, tens of cars, huge signs with flashy advertisements, not a single tree – everything screamed about the business center. However, currently, it was almost empty, carrying clear traces of a hasty retreat. Why almost? Because instead of the crowd, dressed in formal suits and immersed in discussions about stock prices or rumors about another CEO, there were two armored 8-wheel vehicles with high-caliber machine guns on top.
The surroundings only added final touches to the scene directly from the movie - wide open doors of cars that stopped in the middle of the street; personal belongings, scattered around; a few bodies of dead that were left behind; and remnants of the van that seemed to be blown up from inside. Behind the armored machines, on the opposite side of the street, the police were hastily finishing putting the barriers, preventing the onlookers from getting into a danger zone. The resounding alarms from everywhere were clear indicators that they were just in the process of setting the things. Not that it mattered to Robert as all his attention was aimed at what seemed to be APCs.
The huge war machines that first and foremost were meant for carrying the soldiers, they clearly weren’t as dangerous as they could be in terms fire firepower. However, that lackluster weaponry was only in comparison to other types of battle vehicles as the double-barreled gun didn’t seem to be anything weak. Even the small amount of explosives in grenades managed to damage Rob’s body, so the proper gun would easily pierce his metallic flesh. And that didn't take into account the possibility of unknown adjustments, which could easily exist after experiencing the force shield. These thoughts took merely an instant but pushed Robert into another attempt to stop the possible escalation.
“Look, let’s stop it! I overreacted I admit, but we don’t need…”.
The heavy knocking sound came together with a feeling of being penetrated by the projectiles. Piercing his body, they were like angry little predators who tried to devour his flesh but failed. However, their continuous efforts were enough to blast through him, creating horrible huge holes, while exiting his body from the opposite side. At least that happened when Robert tried to cover his face, putting a palm against incoming bullets.
Flashing in surroundings to mark its trajectory, the heavy projectile pierced his hand, before losing most of the force. Still, even the remnants were enough to hit him in the eye, momentarily blinding him. Rob immediately recreated the lost body part, but even more bullets were hitting him. Roaring with anger and annoyance like a wild beast, Robert charged forward. The constant hits made him feel that he was shredded under the fire, splashing the droplets of his vicious blood all over the place. His regeneration barely kept up with the pace of destruction. Seeing the ineffectiveness of the shooting, both double-barrel guns redirected the aim toward his legs, trying to stop Rob’s advance. The engines were already running, ready to take the machines away. This was the moment when Robert finally finished conjuring a shield.
Not even a millimeter thin, this black construct had no chance of handling the fire. However, Rob wasn’t relying on a metal itself, but a destructive layer from the Energy Blast ability. He still felt the pushes from each hit, when the bullet tried to penetrate the defense as he couldn't envelop the whole surface of his shield with this layer. The process of disintegration wasn’t fast enough to stop it completely, but losing the shape, weight, and part of the force decreased the threat by a lot, giving a short frame of time before the enemies would come up with the counteraction. Still, no matter how brief it was, the inhuman physique of Rob allowed him to reach the targets that were barely in dozen meters away from him.
Putting his shoulder forward, he simply crashed into the APC, making it tremble from the hit. Not stopping on it, Robert caught the arcs around the wheel before gripping the metal. In the next moment, he pushed using all his strength and full power of the reactor core. The heavy armored machine tried to resist, relying on gravity and weight but the struggles ended in a few seconds when half of the wheels were raised above the ground. Continuing the motion with the help of his legs, Robert pushed again, finally turning over the APC and dropping onto the side. Conjuring the blade and coating it with energy, Rob cut the wheel before pulling it out.
This was the moment when the second APC moved, trying to take aim again. Both barrels were already looking at Rob, but the latter was calm as ever. Rotating on the spot as if he were an Olympic athlete, he threw his improvised disk at the machine gun. The first portion of the bullets only started to fly out when the projectile had the weapon. The force behind appeared to be too huge for barrels to handle, instantly bending the metal. However, the shooting didn’t stop, which led to an obvious outcome – the explosion inside the gun that finally stopped the rain of fire.
As if predicting such a result, the driver immediately sprinted away, leaving Robert near the first APC. Turning his attention back to the immobilized machine, Rob quickly found the hatch. Maybe the crew tried to stop it from opening, but the contest of strength against a two-with-half-meter metallic human was a futile act. Maybe worth of respect, but nevertheless futile. Opening the hatch and getting a full burst into the face, Robert made an instinctive swing with his arm. Blindly hitting something, he caused a scream of pain, before another strike ended it, following the source of the sound. Still, Robert calmly found a hand grenade on the nearest body when his eyesight was restored, pulled the ring, and threw it inside, not changing his expression. Only after that he stepped back and looked around, trying to gauge the situation.
The explosion from behind brought a burst of air, pieces of clothes, and odd trash from the hatch, but Robert didn’t care. All his attention was focused on a newly emerged figure, dressed like an unknown superhero’s sidekick on Halloween, using a fist junk found in the closet. Appearing out from nowhere right behind his back, he had quite a look. A tight leather suit, colored in a bright green with black lines that resembled the well-known sports costume. A mask that covered half of the clearly young face with no signs of facial hair. A wide overconfident smile that showed unnaturally white teeth that shined like after the huge paycheck to the dentist. And with the same overly enthusiastic voice that fit the appearance, the man declared.
“Surrender, villain, or else I will make you do it! You stand no chance against the justice!”
How I am tired of this shit…