Golgar chewed with his chlorophyllide mastication on the M.U.S.C.L.E. Robot as Doctor-Commander Izo Cold Iron tinkered away with several salvaged materials the rest of his mechanical manservants labored to restore the Fort Bragg Underground Bunker Complexes that is his new home. The Mushroom Leshy had pestered the new master of these Myrmidons to test his and their mettle against each other in simulated combat. He wielded his Leaf-Blade Daggers on both of his hands whilst the tall and stoic robotic opponent held his steel riot shield at his left hand and a baton, no larger than 33 inches, on the other.
Whilst Golgar’s wild slashes would tear through flesh into ribbons, against armor, let alone against one that is incapable of feeling pain. The barbaric plant-person was only able to deal cosmetic scratches onto the M.U.S.C.L.E’s steel frame. An utter embarrassment for a battle-lusty Gorumite! In contrast, the M.U.S.C.L.E. robot firmly planted their feet onto the sparring ground’s rubber foam mat. Their riot shield easily deflecting the berserker’s reckless assault.
“No blood! No blood! Me no-no… grr…” his fungal friend grumbled. “Me cut… no blood guts fall! Golgar no like-y!” he tried to reach his blades into the abdomen of the M.U.S.C.L.E. Bot but all his efforts were met with mere cosmetic scratches upon its metallic surface.
“Robots don’t feel pain, can’t bleed and definitely will not yield to just… biting…” Izo cringed at the Leshy’s juvenile prowess. He was busy carefully packaging several boxes worth of scavenged useable materials that were to be destined for delivery to Mama Sopas and the Leshy’s of Crossfen village.
He had done a brisk inventory of the Fort Bragg Bunker Complex, or at least at the inventories he could physically access. Myrmidon’s inquiries were accurate to the letter, he has small arms of .45 Caliber, 9mm, 5.56 mm and 12-Gauge from highest to lowest quantity of ammunition available. They could be outfitted into Myrmidon’s M.U.S.C.L.E. Units seamlessly. In terms of spare parts, he could feasibly upkeep his new robot troopers for a long period of time without the need for scavenging but that is under ideal conditions.
In terms of living space, the areas that he could access for now outside of the Command Center, his Personal Quarters, and a small Engineering Bay, he could access a barracks meant to house twelve people that he repurposed into a spare storage room. Necessities were however of deep concern to him. Foodstuffs had mostly perished after over 200 years of storage and thus he has to resort to eating powdered soup and purified Blam for his three meals each day. Electricity had to be cycled amongst the areas that needed the power the most, from the machinery needed to clear the collapses to Izo’s Engineering Bay which he has established himself into a comfortable workshop in throwing together machine bits for himself or to pay off Mama Sopas for her hospitality (and her non-aggression). Honestly, he expected better from a former Old-World Bunker meant for their high nobles and families. It was hard to wrap around Myrmidon and H.E.N.R.I.’s explanations of ‘resultant violent tectonics’.
Nonetheless, at the end of the day, he is in a fragile position. Alone but persevering through sweat, tears and a shot of Epinephrine to buff his energy out to accelerated focus. It was all so easy to collapse, but Izo knew he could not rest now… not after imperium is just about to be in reach…
“No glory if they can’t scream-scream in pain-hurt!” Golgar “I demand, greater-more challenge stupid machine-thing!” he demanded.
“May I suggest I activate my Baton? It is equipped with Electronic Shock output capable of emitting nine-thousand voltage.” Myrmidon suggested, speaking through the M.U.S.C.L.E Unit. Their gestalt consciousness is capable of reaching upon all of their many vessels of its will within the Bunker Complex and of a greater radius beyond Fort Bragg from as far as beyond the god-forsaken lands of Lastwall north and Crossfen to the south.
“Y-Y-Yesss…” he grinned. Seeing his iron challenge now be met in equal measure to his rambunctious ego. “Strike me with all of your hatred!” he opened his body-wide, readying to embrace the blissful pain of battle once again.
“Aggression Protocols in-motion.” The M.U.S.C.L.E. unit thrust his leg forward and strikes Golgar dead center with their now electrical baton.
Sparks and volts pierced his body as the arrogant mushroom was sent flying across the room until he landed roughly on his back, whiplashed against a wall.
“Golgar!” Izo dropped several scraps of metal pipes and rushed towards his Leshy companion. “Speak to me please!” he knelt down to Golgar’s body.
“L-Le-Le…” Golgar twitched his tongue in a struggle to speak. “Le’ss do---da a-a-gain!” he cackled as he stood back up.
“A surprisingly resilient constitution.” Myrmidon acknowledged.
“Lose the shield Myr… Me? Eh… can I just call you ‘Mi-Mi’?” the Fungal Fighter stood back up and asked.
“Streamlined abbreviation of my designation? ‘Myr’ and ‘Mi’ of Myrmidon? I accept this compression.” Myrmidon nods. “I will integrate this onto my memory for authorized appellations.” The M.U.S.C.L.E Unit sheathed away
“Now-Now… fight me more with all of your fury! Engarde stupid-machine!” Golgar brandish his Leaf Blades and charges forth against
“Silly ole’shroom…” Izo snickered amusingly as he returned to his tinkering.
Progress on the rehabilitation of the facility had been slow but visibly bearing fruit. The collapsed ruins were still cutting off the bunker’s full facilities, having to on the main power in cyclical periods for the past days to be able for Izo to access his work yard and maintain the base’s defenses up above from threats all around. As of now, he has assigned his faithful mechanical manservant, H.E.N.R.I. to be on the lookout for all approaching happenings outside from the safety of the Bunker’s solitude.
But that tranquility was about to be disturbed once again, much to his charging. A loud ring disturbed the Doctor-Commander’s concentration. Dropping his work he turned to its source, a Telephone meant for base personnel to communicate with each other throughout the Facility.
“What’s going on?” Izo smirked annoyingly as he talked on the phone.
“Intrusion detected Northwest at one hundred meters. I have spotted seven-foot mobiles that have trespassed within the perimeter of Fort Bragg.” H.E.N.R.I’s voice spoke through the phone’s speakers.
“Why have you not activated the Automated Turrets? Blast them!” Izo roared.
He was rather hand’s off for trivial matters, regarding stray bands of strangers that dared entered his property.
“Master, have you not forgotten that power for the Automated Defenses has been rerouted for the Excavation Efforts?” H.E.N.R.I. recalled.
“Oh…” Izo in introspection, he was still rather new to this new rhythm living here in the Bunker right now.
“Belay, your next words…” H.E.N.R.I. advised him. “It looks like… looks like… a bunch of Ghouls. And they are pursuing a woman. A very distressed woman.” The robot reported.
“Why would I care of that?” Izo apathetically dismissed his Manservant. “I have more important matters to deal with down here.”
What was the worth of one life compared to his? One life who foolishly drew the ire of an entire horde of Ghouls alone without anything to defend themselves with? Darwinian’s Gospel being put into practice as demonstrated for all Izo’s ratiocination can attest. Sooner than later these tribal ignoramuses would thank him for this sacrifice as he rebuilds the Pioneers from the foundations of the Old World’s bones.
“Master, if you divert your attention to rescuing this woman, there is a Seventy-Three percent chance she may reward you for your aid.” H.E.N.R.I. prescribed Izo.
“Have you also forgotten that the expedience of your resources shall be used in the protection of all American citizens from harm is your prerogative Secretary Baird?” Myrmidon muscled in with one of their mechanical vessels. “You swore an oath to protect all lives of those that is left of our great nation? Do you dare go against that Oath? Do you dare not to at least… try?”
“Damnit!” Izo stood up from his workbench and grabbed hold of his weapon. His robot butler was correct, he has to start making some new friends if he is to ever revive the Pioneers once again. To rectify his predecessor's mistake and rebuild their power. That and he couldn’t bear to burn the bridge of his new accord with Myrmidon as ‘Gideon Baird’.
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By his side, he picked up his new weapon, a design he had made himself from what he scavenged from the ruins of the Bunker Complex. It was, rather uniquely for his needs of both a combat weapon and as a utility tool split into two parts. One part consisted of a tungsten axe that is capable of punching all but the toughest of materials with ease in one fell chop. The second part consisted of a heavy-duty sledgehammer if more brutal force is required. They were held together by a super-magnet into one large weapon with the axe part of the combination weapon protruding out. If he ever needed to use the hammer, it was quite handily just below its polearm for him to detach with a press of a button. This saves him space and hands whilst also giving him a means of self-defense. He calls this double-duty weapon of his: the Hammer-Gap.
Bullets were a precious commodity that is in short supply for the Doctor-Commander, or at least until he could get a proper Reloading Bench up and moving. He will have to get his hands dirty today. All in the hard life of a Pioneer for Izo Cold Iron, but he wasn’t born to have an easy life. All he could ask for was to be… a stronger man.
Izo dashed across the Bunker Complex in over sixty seconds from his Workshop to the entrance outside. The air of forest and dead matter still reeks across the immediate surface as he made his way towards where H.E.N.R.I. reported the intrusion.
“No! Stay back!” a raven-haired waif helplessly tried to push away her pursuers, using her hand-sized black scythe to swipe them away but to no avail. Her clothes were torn into unwholesome threads of blood and cloth of her plain white dress as she was surrounded by a half-a-dozen of ghoulish monstrosities readying to snuff her life away with their decayed claws.
Irradiated remains of humanity as the Doctor-Commander identified, known far and wide in the Wasteland as simply ‘Ghouls’. Necrotic-post living beings are driven mad by the embers of radiation that permeated the ruined world. These Ghouls, rather peculiarly were rather different than those back in Texas, however. Much more intact of flesh and of slightly skinnier if not emaciated built of wolverine-like aspect with their vampiric-like fangs and bestial claws. They slowly circled around her, like hungry wolves readying to deliver the coup-de-grace on their wounded prey as the destitute maiden crawled her arms and legs into a fetal position as she readies to accept her saporous fate.
“Hey uglies!” Izo waved Hammer-Gap threateningly at the Ghouls. “Get off of my property!”
He charges forth, his Axe at hand. Its tungsten blade met the flesh of one ghoul that in one fell chop, bisected the monster.
The rest of the Ghoul’s pack roared as they readied themselves into a rushing formation. Two of them approached into melee range with Cold Iron, their large fangs readying pierce human flesh. But their greed was only match by inane arrogance.
Izo reflexively shifted his body sideways as the Ghouls bit down on his arm but their teeth caught on to the protective plates of his Exo-Armor’s vambraces. Their teeth shattered upon their reckless assault. Izo threw them off with a mighty swing of his arms. One was sent flying away whilst the other fell down to the ground closer to him. He quickly finished the nearby Ghoul with a heavy chop of Hammer-Gap. But its Axe blade however, had plunged too deep into its chest in a mess of black blood and bones, forcibly embedding it in place.
“K-K-K—eeee---llll…” one of the Ghouls scantily spoke of what little use of its decayed tongue could speak next.
One Feral strafed with such blinking agility it pounced behind Izo. It grappled behind him as it attempted to bite down for his throat. Its remaining three companions meanwhile bent their legs as they assumed a defensive stance, observing eruditely that their opponent is much more tenacious than just a defenseless waif. Izo gasped for breath as he quickly scrambled his body back and forth in a bid to shake the Feral off.
Struggling amongst the Ghoul’s tyrannical grasp, Izo’s hands fumbled across the shaft of Hammer-Gap until he found the magnetic release controls of his weapon. Pressing the switch, he unleashed his dual-duty weapon’s attached hammed as it swung madly across against the Three Ghouls in front of him. They leaped away for distance between them and the Doctor-Commander.
Gaining some space, Izo grabbed the Feral Ghoul behind him and slammed the monster to the ground, its neck-snapping instantly upon the herculean strength granted to him by the Vulcan Exo-Armor. The mere shock of Izo’s intimidating display shaken the pack of Ferals, giving Izo a moment of respite to catch his breath and retrieve the Axe half of Hammer-Gap.
“Ye—Yer-You…” a Ghoul hissed angrily at Izo as he held the hammer in one hand, ax at the other.
The feral steeled its resolve as it dashed forward to attempt another attack on the Doctor-Commander’s jugular but if there was one thing Izo learned of feral mutants such as these peculiarly strange Ghouls, is that they are as smart as predatory animals. Only interested in their next meal above all else. Timing his slash, Izo cleaved both his dual-split Axe and Hammer at the last possible moment bisecting the fool-hardy ghoul just like the first of its brethren.
Izo, heart beating, and adrenaline pumping yelled mightily at the Ghouls to display his physical supremacy at these creatures. Such a display of strength disheartened the surviving two Ferals as they fled away with their tails between their legs. Leaving Izo, the shaken lady and four Ghoul Corpses.
“Filthy Mutes!” Izo spat at the last ghastly corpse before unleashing one final disgraceful stomp from the heavy boot heels of his Vulcan Exo-Armor suit.
He inhaled and exhaled heavily. The heat of battle had rushed his rather sheltered heart with an intensive work-out slaying these monsters. But he had ultimately triumphed, but damn he hopes the Bunker Excavations unearths a Gymnasium with a functioning treadmill. His cardio is found wanting and that was too close.
“You… you…” the raven-haired waif emerged from her fetal position gently and peeked at her ivory savior. Words, just now finally rising from the drowning depths of her anguish. Her meek voice slowly mended itself back together.
“You’re safe miss.” Izo turned his head to her.
Her mesmerizingly roseate eyes met his as she reached her hand out onto his blood-covered Exo-Armor greaves. Her antsy fingers traced the firmness of the armor for a fleeting second, hoping beyond hope this wasn’t just a figment of her imagination.
“You saved me! I… I… thank you.” She collapsed into to his arms and began to cry.
“Hey! Hey!” Izo nervously blushed. He was alien to such a sudden thrust “Your safe now… miss… uhm… what’s your name? What are you doing here?”
“Lysithea. My-my name is Lysithea.” The raven-haired waif introduced herself fastidiously. Her eyes averting his gaze. “I… I was…harvesting berries for my village when these monsters attacked me.” She explained herself.
“Izo, you can call me Izo.” He introduced himself. “You don’t look like you are from Crossfen though. Where are you from?” Izo asked her.
“North from here, a little town named Vellumis. Oh, my friends must be so worried about me…” Lysithea gulped worryingly. “Say, my Savior. I have heard from my fellow villagers about such a weary looking man traveling around the fords of the river as of late. You must be him.”
“I am no ‘savior’ just a man who was at the right place, at the right time.” Izo humbly scratched his left bicep. It was the first time he was given such flattery from anyone before. “Hold on, what do you mean your people had seen me before?”
“Yes, scouts had seen your arrival days ago. You must be very tired and likely haven’t seen a soul in days!” Lysithea nodded. “You must be very tired just sleeping beneath the trees. My village of Vellumis will treat you well, especially after they hear of you saving me.” She proposed.
“Well I am actually planning to settle down around here sooner than later…” Izo blushed further but quickly recomposed himself. Speaking with the opposite gender that wasn’t his mother or his teacher was still a new frontier for the Doctor-Commander. “I think its best I patch you up miss?”
“No, that wou--- Oh yes… please… I do require some aid.” Lysithea attempted to stand back up but she quickly collapsed back to the ground, shivering weakly at her wounds that still bled across her body.
“H.E.N.R.I. get me a first-aid kit.” Izo radioed his faithful companion.
Not a minute later, Izo’ mechanical man-servant arrived with the saving crimson cross upon a white box.
“Te-Te-Thank you kind sir…” Lysithea shivered as she greeted her secondary savior with a weak smile as the robot opened the First-Aid Kit.
“Trauma detected on subjects Legs. Engaging remedial protocols.” H.E.N.R.I. held bandage wraps and a bottle of cleansing disinfectant at hand.
Lysithea glossed her lips as the sting of the disinfectant caressed her wounds. The robot paid no empathic heed to the raven-haired lass as it traced the rest of her wounds and bruises around her battered body.
H.E.N.R.I.'s finger, however callously passed over one of Lysithea's wounds causing the cuts on her legs to bleed more profusely.
“Ahh~…” she moaned from a soft if almost tactile groan before her throat upheaved with a great ache that arose from her belly to her mouth. Her body throbbed and tingled as the wounds of her body were brought into a seal.
“Apologies madam.” H.E.N.R.I. profusely bowed as used a built-in Utility Knife on his wrist to slice off the excess wrappings off Lysithea’s body.
“You are a very brave and kind soul stranger.” The black-haired lady wobbled back up and shook the dust and muck off her virgin white dress. Having sheathed her pocket Scythe back onto its holster by her lithe waist. “You are not from here aren’t you? Especially with that… what did mother calls them? Automatas?” she pointed to H.E.N.R.I.
“Helpful Entity for Numerically Relevant Industries or H.E.N.R.I. I am what is called, a Robot that is programmed to serve the needs and whims of my Master, Izo Cold Iron. But ‘Automatas’ are an accepted apperception.” The mechanical manservant bowed.
“Yeah, I come from a place called Houston, Houston, Texas.” Izo answered.
“Hue…Stone?” Lysithea dumbfoundedly attempted to pronounce. Pursing her lips with her finger. “Forgive me but, I have never heard of such a land named Hue-Stone.”
“Of course, you don’t…” the Doctor Commander glowered his head ashamedly. “It was destroyed by savages’ barbarians many days ago. And I, and H.E.N.R.I. here is likely its only survivors.”
“How horrifying! I know what it is like to lose family to such evils too.” Lysithea gasped. “You must be very tired from your journey after running away for so long.”
“Well, not… THAT tired… I did meet some friendly folks over at Crossfen.”
“Oh, Mama Sopas and her ilk’s hospitality cannot compare to what MY town of Vellumis can do for you.” Lysithea proposed. “As a token of my gratitude I can escort you to Vellumis where everyone here about what you have done for me.”
“You see Master?” H.E.N.R.I enthusiastically turned to Izo. “Seventy-Three percent.”
“Well, I could use some more… friends, I guess… H.E.N.R.I. tell Myrmidon I am going to be personally ‘investigating a lead on neighboring settlements’ while we are gone?” Cold Iron shrugged.
“Affirmative, Master.” H.E.N.R.I. bowed.
“Do tell me more of this Hue-Stone, stranger, while we are there. You can dine forever with what choice selections I can provide you. You won’t ever have to be hungry again.~” she chuckled playfully.
AN: