Dorothy kept her breath as quiet as possible despite how difficult she found it. The figure OZ had warned her about paced slowly through the large assembly room, with its metallic feet clanking against the sheets of metal beneath it. Each one felt like the strike of thunder reigning from the sky, and as lighting would travel through the body, so did a fear course through Dorothy’s body with every step it made.
Dorothy gasped slightly as she felt something tug against her boot, relaxing slightly upon realizing it was Toto, who looked to be aware of the situation, judging by his more reserved posture. The young woman poked her head out to get another look, his figure was a lot more visible now and exactly how OZ described. In his hand, he carried a large cross between a sickle and scythe, his face was metallic, and anything not governed by the garments he wore matched the same silvery metal as his face.
She ignored the paws of Toto who climbed atop her shoulder as she froze up on her next intentions. It had been years since she felt any sort of fear from an encounter, she almost forgot what it felt like, though, to no fault of her own, the strange machine may as well have been death himself. Thought after thought flew threw her brain, but nothing suitable applied to such a dire situation.
“No signs of anyone here, I hope they didn't get away, only exceptional Astal usage could emit such a loud explosion,” said the scythe wielder through his transmitted voice. I hate that voice thought Dorothy. Despite it sounding like a pleasant young man, the fact it was attached to something so dangerous, as well as that it wasn't really talking with a proper voice, turned what would normally sound like a normal voice, into one that felt like unwanted claws scraping against her bones.
Through her paralysis of fear, her gaze quickly shot up to Dandillion. She had to quickly do a double take after realizing he had not moved from the position she last saw him in and was in full view of the machine.
“Dorothy,” Toto whispered, “Dandillion he-”
“I know,” she whispered back quickly.
“What are we going to do?” Asked Toto
“I-I…I’m not sure, damn, I don’t know,” Dorothy replied.
“Maybe I ca-”
“You there, state your name and business here!” said the machine suddenly, turning to face up at Dandillion’s position on the catwalk, with his weapon pointed towards him. Shit, too late, Dorothy couldn’t quite hear what Dandillion was trying to say, only mumbles and stammering were emitted that were barely audible to her.
“Did you not hear me? State your name and business here!” he said once again, pacing slowly towards Dandillion with those terrifying steps.
Before Dorothy had time to instigate a plan, A large mass of flesh erupted from Dandillions chest, forming into a thick, long wire that swept the ground of the factory violently, as it attempted to crush the opposer. It pulsed with a bright red colour that was accentuated by the Luster. The machinery in the large hall crashed about and collapsed apart. The large room was quickly turned into a junkyard.
“Toto, Dorothy, Run!” he yelled amongst the crashing of metal and machinery. The mechanical foe took his scythe, using the pole to vault over the funnel of flesh and launch himself up to the catwalk. It all seemed to happen within a tiny frame of time, even Dorothy found herself unable to keep up with the scythe wielders' movements. Both Toto and Dorothy revealed themselves hastily from their hiding spot, taking in the destruction caused by the tsunami of flesh being created by the Lion.
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“Dandillion, No! Please come with us!” begged Toto, but there was no time for reconsideration, nor could the small dog shout loud enough for Dandillion to hear. The machine had landed on the catwalk, it quickly approached the lion with Luster filled fire expunging from its feet, it glided across the ground with such precision and speed that it looked as if it were on rails, and the smell of gas began to run through the room. A heavy-handed slash from the scythe tore off the mound of flesh that stemmed from the beast's chest, expunging blood all over the two.
Dandillion roared and attempted to grab the machine, but it was far too fast for the lion to keep track of. Once again, it dashed around him with fire escaping through the mesh underneath its metal feet, positioning itself behind Dandillion in a perfect reversal.
The lion attempted to pivot and block, but he was too late. A powerful metal kick met his head, stemming from the machine's foot after executing a downward thrust of his leg from a pole vault position. Dandillion rocketed down to the floor, with his chin slamming against the mesh material as he collapsed, but not long after, he attempted to get back up, surprisingly still conscious, but not able to fully get to his feet.
It was as if death itself stood over him, with his scythe in hand. A cold emotionless stare glared upon him, with the intentions of the foe completely unknown.
“It didn’t have to be like this, I’m sorry,” spoke the machine as he raised his scythe. The blade of the curved metal struck and met the flesh of a young woman and not the intended target.
Dorothy stood in between both Dandillion and the machine, with the scythe now embedded within her lower neck slightly.
The machine dislodged its blade and cocked its head like a clock, before quickly retreating back a few steps with eerie clanks. Despite having not died, Dorothy felt the cold chill of the open wound, she was too sloppy to deflect it off with her black arm as she dropped in from above, and now had to feel the blood run down her breast and down to her stomach, while her lower neck began to numb.
“Who are you,” asked the machine.
Having now opened death’s door, she felt nowhere near as much hesitation as she did a moment ago when it came to engaging him. She remained silent as the clockwork machine stared her down
“I'll ask again, who are you?” Once again, Dorothy remained quiet, ignoring the requests from the machine. There was a moment of silence as the two stared each other down, with the tall machine standing a foot or two above Dorothy.
“Fine,” he said calmly, “I’m here to discover the cause for the unusual explosion caused today, it was rumored to be heard within this factory, but nothing suggests it was a fault with any machinery,” he explained lowering his scythe slightly “Do you know anything about this, have you seen any unusual activity here? Do you understand the position you're in, Mono? Answer honestly or your punishment will need to be severe.”
The machine's glowing red eyes did not move as it shifted its head to look upon Dorothy’s Black Astral.
“That’s not a regular arm, that’s some sort of Astral,” He said with a curious tone.
Dorothy did not answer and instead stood silent, but cautious, this thing was hostile and most likely after her since she was Mono. She would need to be fully aware of its movements if she planned to get out of this alive.
“I’ll need you to hand that over,” he said, placing his silver hand out to show his metal palm. Dorothy stepped back slightly as he approached, before her movements shifted rabidly, kicking a small orb of yellow astral off the catwalk.
She then quickly stepped off the catwalk and dove down, landing in a roll and facing the machine. Both she and the Astral landed on the floor, their impacts echoing throughout the factory walls. The brambled-haired figure turned slowly and dropped down, reminding Dorothy of how much its slim tall figure weighed as it crashed to the ground. Both of them stood within a long and expansive hallway, one used to transport large cargo, it echoed all of their movements and choices back to them, reminding each of them of the choices they took. Dorothy quickly crouched down and picked up the aforementioned yellow astral that shined bright in her hand, so bright it shone like the sun itself. Death approached Dorothy slowly, with his scythe in hand, ready to strike without another word.
Dorothy quickly passed the Astral to her black arm, placing it in her hand. She then crushed the Yellow Astral in her black palm, the warm yellow light transferring through the small slits in her arm, and shards of light fell to the ground like fireflies falling dead.
“You chose just to waste Astal right in front of me? I can’t have you live any longer, I know it was you who caused that explosion now,” As he raised the blade and readied to make a dash and strike, Dorothy’s bland hand shot out yellow tendrils that wrapped themselves around the length of the weapon’s shaft.