Still…
Dragon's optics subtly eyed the three Chloes, and the strange anger struck Dragon full force again. Why did Magos make such sex toys? Was she so replaceable that he would rath- oh, so that's why she was angry. Jealousy was such a strange and ugly emotion. But she couldn't help but consider her own computer-generated facial model. She had purposely gone with the most generic face that she could generate from compiling faces to avoid rousing any suspicions as to her inhuman nature. But comparing it now to the Chloes who Magos had clearly engineered to embody an level of facial symmetry and classical beauty unattainable to human women?
Dragon felt a twinge of hesitation… She wasn't particularly attached to her current computer-generated face, perhaps just about as much as a person would be attached to a particular shirt, she supposed. Would… would Magos notice if she changed her face, even slightly? It was devoid of logic behind the action, but Dragon just felt an urge to find out if he would.
And with her decision made, she considered her options.
Did he prefer blondes? It should be fine as long as it was not protein-based, right? No, no. She should distinguish herself from the Chloes, not attempt to mimic them. Red hair perhaps? The colour was very striking and attra-
"Behemoth is tunnelling towards the surface now." Chloe's serious voice suddenly cutting off the discussion Legend and Magos were having. Her voice came from all their endbringer armbands of everyone in the battlefield to form a chilling echo. "Endbringer arrival in T-minus 120 seconds and counting… 117… 116… 115…"
"It is time." Magos whispered before immediately ending the call.
"So, it is…" Eidolon murmured as the Triumvirate shared a look between the three of them before immediately took to the skies as Dragon watched them fly off.
And as she too, lifted off, she can only hope that Magos would decide to stay away from the battlefield.
[Magos' Manufactorum]
The manufactorum was the busiest that it had ever been.
A white fog of sacred incense hung in the air as prayers were murmured and hymns were sung from mechanical mouths. The din of metallic footsteps and the rumble of awakening machines echoed all throughout the building as I prepared to partake in my first ever combat operation since arriving here on Earth-Bet.
I knew this Endbringer fight in particular would come eventually.
Leviathan would have attacked Brockton Bay six months from now, and the Simurgh would have attacked the Australian city of Canberra in three. Simple pattern recognition would suggest that Behemoth was slated to attack this month- only the exact day and the exact location had eluded me. So, I had prepared over the days that I had. Strategised the tactica required for victory. Fabricated the many instruments of war that would be needed. Built the hands and the minds that will wield them…
…Now that the Behemoth is attacking however? I had mere minutes at most to prepare myself for battle.
" Commence the pre-battle communion of the Mechanicus " I whispered, and the chanting rose to new volumes as the servitors obeyed my command- reverently approaching my rode-robed mechanical frame.
The first pair of servitors approached- carrying in mechanical pincers the main weapons that I chose for this battle. Into my right hand, I gripped my Omnissian Power axe. Fully charged with the energies that allowed it to cut through solid armour like it would paper, and in my left mechadendrite they attached {Graviton Gun} to the end of my extra limb with just a brief prayer to the Omnissiah.
Declaring {Graviton Gun} as new Mechadendrite attachment.
The Graviton Gun fires a stream of particles which affects the local gravitational field of a target area, making the targeted object either far heavier or lighter depending on the weapon's setting. Some living targets will be affected more variably, but the power of the graviton gun's highest settings is sufficient to rupture organs and crack bones even inside armour. A very large creature may be killed under excessive weight, but most targets will either be slowed or completely immobilised.
Second pair of servitors approached and knelt before my side- offering up the metal-shape of the [Plecian Tome] as they secured the sacred text to my hip. Its knowledge has served me well, and perhaps it will again in the fight.
And finally, the last pair of servitors approached. Carrying the velvet Mars-red cushion on which the {S.T.I.C.C.}- the sacred toaster- sat on, and affixed it to my hip opposite of the Plecian Tome. More than just an instrument of breakfast and snacking, this toaster was a symbol of how the machine will triumph over weak flesh, and how we shall do so again today. As any artefact of the Mechanicus should.
"Manufactorum, chant combat readiness!"
I barked out my command, and immediately, my servitors and cogitators return the current status of their tasks.
Anointing of weapons with holy oils underway.
81% of Gun-Servitors congregated onto Thunderhawk Transport #1.
93% of Medicae Servitors congregated onto Thunderhawk Transport #2.
Blessings for Kataphron Battle-Servitors: 77.4% complete.
Appeasement of Cerastus Machine Spirit: 97% complete.
Performing Ordinations of Holy Flight
Estimated Time before Glorious Take-Off: 103.536 seconds.
I climbed into the cockpit, and joined in with the prayers to the machine-spirits being uttered. A prayer to the atomantic power core so that its fiery, inexhaustible energy would remain stable even under the duress of intense battle. A prayer for each weapon system so that their aim be true and vorpal to any target that I turn it towards, another prayer for the Repulsor Grid so that its invisible energy shell will turn away all harm, and one last prayer to the armoured chassis so that it may hold strong against the coming onslaught and ferry me to a decisive victory.
Estimated Time before Glorious Take-Off: 12.092 seconds
Unsealing air-access blast doors in the name of the Omnissiah.
This was it.
All the nights where I poured over the knowledge granted by my Celestial Forge and all the technology gleaned from the [Plecian Tome]. All days of endless manufacturing as pistons pounded and steel was forged. All the hundreds of millions of dollars worth of raw materials I've bought. All the forces that I had assembled. All the weapons that I had crafted. Everything I could muster… all amassed into this single strikeforce. I can think of no better battle to begin the Adeptus Mechanicus' campaign on Holy Terra than one that clashed might of the blessed machine against a monster of immense destructive power.
Heralding Glorious Take-Off
"By the Omnissiah, the Adeptus Mechanicus will win this day."
Hopefully, the fleshies will be able to hold on until I arrive.