8. What sits beyond the skies?

How messy the ancient grounds would have been if it were a human who met the end of Dynamo's bite. The outcome would've been the same. Gaped from the head with no chance to survive unless they had a wireless backup. He kept the momentum with the steam venting from every inch of his body; the absolute range of motion made an eighty-pound leg sway like a feather. The bladed ends like razors across paper, just as quick and deep into the other robot's chassis. Dynamo's same leg tripped the unit when he swung back, locking the unit with both arms that gripped their head. Soon blinded by a foreign finger in the eye. In not even ten seconds the room went from shock to silence. The trapped robot rose both arms, a canon in both elbows. "Move an inch and I'll wipe you clean."

Lena huffed like the entrapped machine, the surviving eye of the bot stared into the palm of Dynamo's hand. Whatever it was, it struck fear into a cold heart, "Hey wait!" she called out in a charge, "How did you guess that someone was all the way in here?" as she drew closer the unit became more recognizable. Her lips were left open. A model such as this needed no introduction, "A B3 droid?" the model belonged to the ferrous holm. Brecknock. A country whose history is known to all and taught to all for the celestial origins, a matter that needn't be discussed. These robots, in particular, B3 was released several years ago to nobility and governments officials. Inspired by the ideals of fantasy they adapt faster than any other unit with systematic intelligence. Perfect stealth tools to protect high-end patrons from a killing blow; not to say that they couldn't be used for the inverse as well. Two together in one location wasn't a good sign either for the supposed 'New age Knights'. "God, this is some political scheme, isn't it?"

The poor B3 didn't get a break with another weapon aimed at his cranium. Its artificial mouth clamped before Dynamo's hand swayed closer to it. It bit the bullet, "Alright you got me!" it screamed out; a voice like a broken speaker, "We're visitors from Brecknock...all we wanted to see was where the ancestors slept and the ones who made them…" static escaped his chest with every word. Such innocent reasoning."It took almost a month for us to get the documents to enter this deep in the test chambers."

Lena lowered her bow from the one close to tears. But something wasn't right. Besides the static, something else was there. The records of who had access to the Destria labs, he saw it before. Both eyes widened. A whiz near his back. His palm made contact with the floored B3 allowing him to pivot; the switch in hand left within the entrance near its eye. Bangs erupted from both sides of the ventilation within the walls.

His body became a shield once more to the rounds that wouldn't pierce. A robot standing on both ends with turret attachments. One from the ceiling that hid in the shadow of rust. Number three crashed down with an edge to Dynamo. A slash dragged from the peak of his back all the way down; Dynamo held his neck. Something rare to his body of Kosmik, gaps left in his back like a gaping hole with fragments of broken blade lodged within. His legs spun above them. All back away before the hits connected. Three more B3 units showed up, all shifting between the same razor-edged limbs and turrets in seconds. Dynamo was locked on his toes, "Well then, now I see why the machina was running late," number two spoke up whilst trying to circle them. However, the pace was kept by the twin targets. "You're that Legbuster that the new guy mentioned, aren't you? An old idiot coming to make this place his grave-"

"Cut the shit," the fast-paced bolts kept assaulting one after the next, littering the feet of the B3 bots. None being particularly substantial spots, but the precision was there. Arrows poking the innermost ridges of their legs. Millimetres to the delicate hardware through the openings; the same slim vents spanned their entire bodies. The red of their hulls reverted white, "If I wanted a lecture then I'd take another uni course," the amount of courage she had amplified over a hundred times being protected behind a living shield. Dynamo's back faced her, hand on his neck with hope in his nanomachines.

"You can back up if you need to," when Dynamo shifted his limbs the glow from his core escaped his back, "Don't worry, I got banged up worse than what these kids could ever do," he spoke with the biggest smile a man could have. His eyes locked on their features that were clearly modified. He saw what only eyes like his could, those Kosmik weapons weren't as fearful now.

"I mean I'd probably do that to avoid radiation poisoning," Lena stepped back to a safe distance, "But that paycheck is the only thing keeping me in this heat!" Bolts flew as fast as bullets. The B3 droids made the best of their situation, all prepared for the worse with the nanomachines on their fingers forming shields against the storm; none had DDD installation. Shields big enough to hide their bodies, but why was concern the only emotion on their face?

"Hey, where's 0224 and 7781?" number three, their shielder queried. Dynamo's ears reflected and stored the mutterings of the machines in their native binary tongue. Something translated by anyone, but impossible for a regular man to convert several dozen numbers into letters without a few mishaps; nothing stopped intentional errors either. Calamity existed among them far more than what Dynamo could feel with his injuries.

"You, hired help," he leaned his head back, "When I say run, run for dear life…" his voice monotonous like the gulp. Knowledge of what came after, Dynamo's engine roared and forced him forward. His entire body kept looping around in the air with his bladed heels extended. Seemingly mad, all of his actions were living hell. Fast was the clang of iron and sparks birthed. His heel lodged in the shield. His other leg had no issue in going over the shield. In a single swing, it hooked the shielding arm and hacked it off the same. All of the B3's wouldn't wait for him. Before the new amputee lost another limb the razor-bladed fingers of both crept to Dynamo with turrets and fresh ammo. Pelted with bullets at that range would be a death wish to the smiling bot, but backup came through, "A little help?" more flames bulleted from behind him. Four shots and four targets. Each reached the internal chambers. All weapons failed. "Well, now I see why the Dysons were fighting over you, miss academy archer."

Lena had been trained to keep her cool in moments like this. Yet her heart raced with breath lost, "How do you even know that?" she shared a similar smile against her will. As eyes fell on her, she backed away with a roll. Fingers like knives warped into poles with tips as sharp as they were long. Two thrown and one aimed at another. The hunter froze with an attack from creatures gifted with pinpoint accuracy, enough to hit a fly's wings from a kilometre away.

Walls rattled with the smell of rust, it slithered between the gaps where the unforeseen stared. Death's arms came closer to a hug, a giant of bones wrapped in shadows. Engines roared and it hissed louder.

Spears made their mark, but with the wrong target. Dynamo had one in each arm whilst his teeth entertained the third who tried to wrestle deeper into him. He crouched. Impossible to be pushed by almost anyone, "I'm glad that you're covering for me but cover your ass too!" he was loud. Why? An aftereffect being where everything was alerted even once he threw the spears back. Obviously, they were easily stopped with the third losing the tip within his mouth. Spat back, he darted closer to Lena. Steam sizzled the air; the sound came from the ceiling too, "The hall! Now!" through the ports along his feet he jetted back, pushing both away. There was something else there. It crept in the walls. It sounded like a bone rattle. An ambush apex hunter struck.

Behind wearing the eyes of ghosts with a body like snow coated in red. Long bodies with hundreds of segments coagulated into one within an oval, a tortoise's body. Stout legs thicker than the rogue unit that was all legs. Barbs like teeth pointed to the sky with similar growths covering its armour...but those were the least of concerns. A snake's head, five to be exact stemmed from the same neck. Like a tree's branch, they acted in sync with each other. Growls while they prowled. Eyes locked on every possible angle relaying information to each other. A monster with eyes like the sun. No blindspots existed with the tail, a sixth head. Devious was the event that came after.

Three robots that couldn't pierce the scales of the devil. Torn asunder by heads that swung them madly. Oil and gears, nanomachines, and neon painted the walls like they were for eons. Moments passed and three who stood were no more. Well, except one for a single droid. Legs reduced to scrap and a head hanging by the threads with the tail losing interest, "Wh-what the hell is that?" Lena's yell whispered."How could that thing hide in the walls?"

Dynamo couldn't look anywhere besides the beast and its beauty. He opened his mouth, "Scuta," he identified the monster; not a rare sight globally, but surely in Gottenfall. Creatures like this were older than the new age of gods. Most descendants of the old, others being but humble animals that ran rampant and survived the extreme industrialization, to the ones of that age that live now a special name was reserved. A name for monsters, "A Daimon," an umbrella term. Dynamo stepped closer to the hydra. It hissed a chorus, "These used to live in the undersea caverns and fished at night.." he spoke to nobody, "But you were always too lazy to fish, Scuta," the eyes of the snakes dulled to his approach. Still weary they hissed, stomping what lied underfoot. Evert step he was in more danger, but the daimon struck nought. Malintent was absent. The beast was at peace with the individual that he even allowed Dynamo to pet him. "Hey there, been a while."

Dynamo had his eyes locked on the writing one near Scuta's tail. His hands made rounds with all the heads that demanded before arriving at the tail, "You," he crouched to the unit. It vented air through its mouth in an attempt to cool down, "We'll have a good talk with you later," one analysis determined the B3's model. In an instant Dynamo's hand dug into the neck where the power source, a battery existed. No remorse in his eyes while he ripped out the heart of another looking them dead in the eyes. The last eyes they'd ever see.

"Oh?" escaped from the B3's speaker system, "You're the one Zaltras spoke of aren't you? The man lost in time?" it was most likely on a backup power grid, but with the damage it would fail soon, "It's nice to meet you, ancestor, truly. But you are the enemy to the next generation- to the progression of our mechanical sons and daughters," a wavering finger aimed towards the heavens. "I know what sits there too. The throne beyond the clouds. The throne in an eternal paradise awaits for the right frame. The frame of Zenith."

Dynamo had no patience, he stomped away where a secondary power system would be. However his enemy refused to go dark, in fact the opposite occurred. An influx of power into what was left of the frame. Red hot, but he persisted. They couldn't afford to have this unit die yet, this thing parading as another machine. It smiled. Scuta hissed. Their six head pulled Dynamo and itself away from the cascade of orange and radiation that came. The B3 self-destructed with the force of an earthquake, "Hey! Are you okay-?" Lena froze after her charge. Her legs wouldn't allow her to get any closer to that friendly rogue unit. What was the expression on his face? Why was it so creepily human? He had no facial muscles and was smooth, so how could a smile bend so much that the corners of his cheeks warped? How was his forehead etched with stress in such a manner? Eyes not like the blinding white or false orbs of glass they were, but dots an eccentric brown.

Once they met hers, she trembled.

His mind explored everything he heard. Zenith. The throne beyond the sky. His eye twitched. Something was missing in the back of his mind. He remembered everything but the final piece. Zenith and the key to the throne of thrones. Blue Eden. "Hmm, here help me out,"

Taking the spoils of war, he kicked up what was left of the B3 machines in hope. From his hands to Lena's from afar, but the fear was still there, "Hmm? Oh don't worry about Scuta here, he won't bite," Dynamo laughed it off with the dragon, "He used to be the Destria's pet, this whole lab is built over an underground cavern and one day a few hydras decided to pop up," it was hard to take him seriously when he petted Scuta like the overgrown puppy they were. "Now come on, at least one processor needs to be intact that the PD could use."

"Y-yeah" she couldn't let it get to her. All she had to do was get the job done, get out and get paid. Scrap was collected and Scuta parted, however, any attempt to get deeper in the lap was halted. It didn't matter if it was Lena or Dynamo fangs were bared, "So what did that B3 talk about?"

"We'll talk when it's safe," Dynamo was blunt. Memories of Days long gone flashed across his mind; he couldn't get the laboratory depths out of his mind. The thing outside didn't leave his head either. Though none of the processors was in good condition, they'd do, "Let's go, before things get messy-" the ground rumbled. Not an earthquake but a group of miniature quakes merging into a single cataclysm. Closer it came. "Ah nevermind…"

"Huh? What do you mean by that-" Lena reached for her weapon. Glances she received from Dynamo told her it was better not to. Bang. The tip of her bow was forced to the side with a bullet lodged within. Stomps of boots and armed black and yellow armour segmented with nanomachines in the seams. Scuta disliked large crowds, before anyone else arrived the hydra shuffled back to where it lurked; in the gaps in the walls hidden by debris, "Wait where did it g-ah! I see what's going on…" PD surrounded them.

At least a small platoon with weapons drawn, it didn't help that they were surrounded by bodies.

"Remember the Mound outside? Yeah...that's a privately owned one….by a Dragnok," Dyanamo whistled away the death glares. Forced to the ground and submitted into cuffs.

"You have violated the security treaty of his excellency, Rote-Gigante, under the order of Tome Dragnok you are under arrest, do not resist."