ic Stirring Up A Metallic Nest (IC)

[Avenger Assembled]

Caradoc snapped up his blade and interposed himself between the robots and the technopaths, taking quick tactical action. Nanites meant the danger of infection in melee attacks - nanites meant ranged attacks. He pumped the action of his weapon as the blade began glowing with an unearthly light, a shriek of murdered molecules briefly splitting the air before he fired a sizzling black and white cone of energy from his sword's tip, blasting the robots and shoving them back out and away from the door. He pressed on the attack, sizzling, shrieking energy scorching the air as it knocked the metallic drones backwards like a firehose of energy. As the robots smashed into the wall, one fell to pieces entirely, two others left smoking ruins as he raised his blade and pointed it at the most intact of the two survivors. "If there is a remote intelligence operating this system, you will not be deactivated if you surrender to us."

[KnightDisciple]

(GM Post)

 

The most damaged drone just fell into charred pieces on the ground, one hand bouncing down the hallway toward the T-intersection.

One was left with one arm mangled and scorches all over.

The last seemed generally functional, if heavily burned and with several dents from the impact with the wall.

 

This was the drone that focused on Caradoc. For a moment, that was all...until the head tilted to one side. It spoke then, in halting electronic tones, not unlike the voice one heard from robots or whatnot on television.

 

"YoU dO nOt CoMpReHeNd."

 

It seemed to still need a moment to gather its wits, which meant the technopath heroes still had a chance to finish the job!

[Fox]

Dragonfly had frankly been hoping that there either wouldn't be any combat-viable drones yet, or that it would be longer before their group encountered any; being found now, so close to an entrance that hadn't been properly guarded, implied some awful things about their enemy's ability to track them and respond to threats.

Fortunately for the attackers, they weren't the most immediate source of her ire. Harrier - 'Caradoc' - had already done plenty of damage; she settled for throwing out a hand and sending a bolt of twisted space past the speaking drone's head. Not her best shot ever, but it'd hopefully work as a warning shot.

"Then explain," she demanded.

[Electra]

With the robots' physical threat largely nullified, Miss A closed her eyes and extended her powers into the nearer drone, mentally rifling through its programming and databases for anything they could learn about this disastrous folly. As she worked, she narrated some of her findings aloud for the benefit of her companions. "The good news is that these guys we have here are scouts, designed to stun and subdue, not to kill. There are no employees unaccounted for, so we shouldn't have to chase down any prisoners, but it's encouraging that at least something's not programmed for maximum carnage. It's hard to tell, but whatever's driving this car, it doesn't seem to want to destroy everything.

 

"The bad news," she continued immediately, "is that there are two dozen of these little guys, plus a half-dozen "soldier" units that probably aren't going to be as easy to put down. Also, this place does not look even a little bit like it does on the map anymore. I'm going to try and download a map based on the route memory from this unit, it might help us find our way a little bit. The nanites seem to be concentrated mostly at that giant silver bulge, so if we avoid that, we stand less chance of contamination." 

[Avenger Assembled]

Not one to leave an enemy behind them, Caradoc struck off the head of the last surviving drone, then impaled it through the chassis. Withdrawing his blade, he held the crackling weapon by the center handle. "We need misdirection," he commented before driving his blade into the floor over their heads, the sheetrock, and then the granite, parting  with a sawing motion. He began to carve a round hole in the floor like Bugs Bunny with a saw, commenting, "We are here. The hive knows. We remain united, but the hive can be persuaded to...divide!" he grunted with effort as he slipped his blade between crevasses, pulverized rock falling on his armored body like baby powder over the slow, persistent bass hum of energized blade against mountain rock.

[Fox]

"Hive probably has facility-wide surveillance and distributed intelligence across its constituent parts. Of course hive knows," Dragonfly noted, in the tone of voice of someone extremely unhappy but determined to not let it affect her judgement. "Would wager we cannot move anymore without it at least partially tracking us, short of random-walking teleport - and will not do that except under duress, due to power requirements, needing to pocket both of you, and vulnerability to ambush or violent result of teleporting into solid matter. So, could carve holes in walls, or could take corridors and deal with threats as they come while we figure out how to fix things without nuking site from orbit."

"Alternatively," she dryly noted as she headed back toward the door, "Find Fenris, get him out, then nuke from orbit. Need to save him from himself so we can be very angry at him later."

[KnightDisciple]

[GM Post]

 

Eventually it was decided that they would travel until they met the "conversion wave", and then have Dragonfly "hop" them across. They passed through about 50 yards more of hallway, undisturbed, until they saw the wave creeping down the hallway. Perhaps a foot per minute, it would be hours yet before the conversion reached the outside door. The facility was clearly built spread out rather than stacked up. Probably good for a place that might see accidents that ate through a normal floor...

 

Whatever the case, it was easy enough to "pocket" Miss Americana and Caradoc for perhaps 2 minutes. Enough time to do a few last-moment calculations, and jump well past the bulging nanite conversion wave.

 

They landed in a corridor that was still building itself, but didn't seem to be risking direct infection. The walls had tubes and wires snaking themselves into place, while silvery panels were slowly snapping into place.

 

But that was, perhaps, 10 feet of the corridor. Dragonfly's teleport landed them past that dimly-lit self-assembling section, in the final product. Which was a hallway that vaguely resembled what had been there before, but seemed decidedly futuristic. The doors, if examined, opened into currently-empty rooms.

 

But if they progressed, they would start to find things in the rooms.

 

Some had stacks of raw metals, stones, or even plastics and glass. As if collecting building blocks for future construction.

Some held partially-stripped computers and other electronics.

Some held a handful of inactive Curator drones, also partially stripped. Some were missing limbs, or half their torsos, and a couple were missing heads entirely!

When they came to a right-angle turn, the doors on each side revealed currently-empty scientific laboratories, with screens and instruments galore, but empty shelves and tables. Almost as if someone was trying to keep at least some of the original purpose of this place going.

 

When they rounded the bend, they'd see a large, somewhat fancy door that likely split and slid back into the wall (just like all the other doors).

 

But more important were the two humanoid forms with wolf heads standing before them! They resembled the Fenris armor a great deal, but were...leaner, somehow. Not so much feral, as they were indicating there was nothing human inside of them.

 

The one on the left raised its arm...to put one hand, palm-out, up in a "stop" gesture. Then it spoke, in a deep, growling voice, like a stylized version of a "werewolf voice". It wasn't really much like how the Fenris armor had made the Baron sound. But it might be what he thought it made him sound like.

 

"Halt. You must not proceed further. The Time of Rebirth is not yet upon us, and the Building cannot be disturbed. Please wait patiently out here. In one hour, 35 minutes, and 26 seconds, you will be welcome within, as will all others."

[Avenger Assembled]

"My wrath," 

 

Caradoc suddenly erupted forward like the killing machine he was, striking off the head of the nearest Fenrisbot with the shrieking blade of his glowing sword, then smashing the chest cavity with a two-handed, loaded chop with such force that it sent the shattered torso rebounding off the door. 

 

"is exceedingly great." 

 

The second Fenrisbot was harder, deflecting the blow from his pike and sending Caradoc staggering backwards with a blast to the chest - but the former Omegadrone roared as his jet pack flared to flaming life and he smashed the robot backwards into the door, piling against it too close for a blast. . "Stop. Moving." Caradoc informed the robot as he punched it in the head, over and over again. "Stop. Moving!" When he tore off the head, he hurled it aside and threw the body in another direction.

 

"I am very tired of these things," he informed the others, stepping back to let the scientists open the door.  

[Electra]

"Sounds like we've got a deadline," Miss A said grimly, avoiding the carapaces of the dead robots as she headed for the door. "Given the sheer number of nanites at work in here, I'm betting we really don't want to let them open this facility back up after the Time of Rebirth. If we don't find him within the hour, I suggest we make a tactical retreat and do what we have to in order to neutralize the site. I know he'd understand." She put both hands on the door and tested it, seeing if it would slide open like the others, ready to force it if it wouldn't behave. They didn't have much time left. 

[Fox]

Dragonfly stood back, letting the far more physically powerful Miss Americana worry about the door; instead she crouched to inspect - with great care, and without getting within arm's length - the head that Harrier had so violently divested of its body.

"Do not like the implications," she darkly observed, her brain almost unconsciously mapping out the object's design in broad strokes of metal and circuitry. "Overall design is inefficient; valuable largely for aesthetics and intimidation. Drones and swarm have had no other overwhemling wolf theme, wolf-units were not used for posturing or fear tactics. Outside influence more likely; implies deeper access to Baron's mind or designs. Extraction under time limit is difficult enough without worrying about him being part of - or slaved to - hive."

[KnightDisciple]

(GM Post)

 

As Dragonfly contemplated the odd nature of the armored drones in front of them (with the damage dealt, it was clear that Curator drones had been placed inside, and melded to, a couple of the Baron's armors, though exactly why was unclear), Miss Americana laid down a time-table/ultimatum, and proceeded to pry open the door. The resistance was there, but not overwhelmingly so. No locks, just not triggered to open. 

 

In front of them was a short hallway, similar to the one they'd passed through. No more drones were present, just another door. A door that opened as they got close, and the tunnel opened up into a rather unique space.

 

It was large. Easily 30, 40 feet from the lowest floor to the roof. The outside edge was a slightly-raised walkway (they stood on one end of it), with a doorway to either side, halfway down the room; possibly to labs, or storage, or just other tunnels. 

The center had a slightly lowered "work area", with multiple consoles staffed by unarmed Drones. The robots worked away at semi-holographic stations, not paying the trio of heroes any mind. Even if, for some reason, one of them was attacked, the others would not react. Their purpose seemed to be solely to operate the equipment.

 

Which was, in particular, the large device in the middle, which Miss A and Dragonfly could probably discern to be a MUCH larger version of the device that gave the Fenris armor its unique teleportation, and the equipment overhead. Which was, in particular, an odd glowing apparatus...and a semi-transparent tank of what looked to be just gray sludge.

Gray sludge that moved.

 

If the science heroes were to hazard a theory, the whole arrangement might be something that would allow the large supply of nanites to be disbursed over a large area without having to open up doors. 

And by "large area", we might mean "the planet". 

 

On the far side of the chamber, the walkway raised further, into a little alcove (little being relative here) that looked to be done up like an office. There was a semi-clear desk facing out onto the main section of the chamber, with glowing holographic displays nearly flush with its surface, and a floor-to-ceiling wall of displays curving around the chair set in the middle on some sort of armature that allowed free movement in the office space.

 

Currently the chair's back was turned, but there weren't many guesses as to whom might be in it.

 

Then again, at the moment, Miss Americana might be more distracted by the burst of static that came across her vision, and the low throb that was slowly building in Gina's temples. It seemed something about the chamber was giving her control signal some trouble. 

Edited February 8, 2014 by KnightDisciple

[Avenger Assembled]

Caradoc took a quiet moment to size up the situation, stepping aside to allow the others to enter. This was a situation with which he was very familiar, having had both sweet and bitter results from interrupting a mastermind at their work. The problem with an attack by surprise at this juncture was that, without being able to see Fenris or whatever being had replaced him in his flesh, an attack might do nothing, angering the monster, or might do far too much and simply kill the innocent human genius behind all these transformations. And for now, that was one step the former Omegadrone was not prepared to take - not when so far the only casualty of this situation had been the freedom of one man. So far, anyway. Drawing back the blade of his pike, he began to circle to the left, laying down a circle of covering fire for the others should the occupant of the chair wheel and open fire. 

[Fox]

Dragonfly's head ticked to the side when she caught sight of the room's central device, in that particular way it always seemed to tilt over when something suddenly took hold of a larger-than-normal portion of her brain's multi-threaded attention span. In her mind's eye the object was expanded into its constituent parts - visible or theorized - as she pondered over its power and effectiveness. It wasn't how she would have done it, but she had grudging respect for its projected range and efficiency...if not for its probable use. That she had very, very little respect for, grudging or otherwise.

Something deep behind the lenses of her face-plate flickered, and a polite - if insistent - signal with no apparent source or need for a receiver hit the Miss Americana visual display system, awaiting acknowledgement before unfolding into a text box and accompanying, stylized dragonfly symbol.

Will attempt to counteract teleportation device if needed, it read in mono-type, no-nonsense font. You're probably more...socially gifted than we are. Should probably be you who addresses idiot in the chair.

[Electra]

As they walked into the chamber, Miss A put a hand to her forehead and swayed once before her knees locked automatically to hold her upright. This room must have far more shielding on it than the rest of the base, it was partially blocking her remote signal. Not good. As Gina struggled to compensate for the lack, Miss A nodded once to Dragonfly and stepped forward towards the chair. "I see you've been busy in here, Magnus," she began conversationally, arms loose at her sides. "Your people outside are worried about you. Care to tell us what you've been up to?" 

[KnightDisciple]

(GM Post)

 

As the heroes approached the "office booth" at the back of the room, the figure in the chair (which seemed to be human, wearing a suit or the like, as they approached) did not acknowledge their presence. Instead it, he, continued to stare at the bank of displays in front of him, one hand occasionally tapping its fingers against the armrest, the other making a gesture or two that altered the display. 

 

The displays themselves were...well, a lot of things. News reports. Documentaries. Satellite feeds. Schematics. Graphs. A torrent of information of all sorts flowing like a waterfall down the screens on the wall.

 

Finally, the trio would encounter a clear force field that prevented further travel, but presented no harm to them. Only then did the figure react at all, as the screens suddenly blanked for a moment. 

 

"Hm. Worry. An interesting word. And a sign that I'm one of the better employers, I suppose; those in my employ showing concern for my well-being, rather than apathy. Or joy at my distress. A good sign, one might say.

 

Worry.

 

I have been worried, Miss Americana. 

 

Worried, about the world."

 

A hand waves, and the Earth hangs in the void, cold and alone.

 

"Our species, humanity. In one breath, it is brimming with greatness, kindness, imagination, creation. We've touched the sky, if only briefly. Split the atom. We are out of our infancy..."

 

Pictures of artists and builders. Video of many great man-made structures across the world. Smiling children. Great leaders from history, such as Ghandi and Martin Luther King, Jr. The Saturn V rocket. The works of Beethoven, Bach, and Mozart. 

 

"In the next, we are overflowing with terrible, cruel intention, deviousness, destruction. We've stood on the brink of wiping ourselves and all life on this planet out."

 

Wars. Riots. Atom bomb tests. Dictators.

 

"Through it all, our bodies betray us. Men and women grow old and become trapped inside the walls of their mind. Quirks of genetics bring children into a world that is nothing but darkness, or full of silence. Disease takes control of our bodies away, or ravages them so thoroughly, we are left to wonder, what hope is there?"

 

Alzheimer's patients (with side-along scans of their brains as the terrible disease progresses). Blind or deaf people. Parkinson's sufferers. Other examples of the terrible toll of disease. 

 

And then nothing but pictures of young Eira Katastrof.

 

"Both of you ladies have my undying gratitude. You helped save Eira from oblivion. But she should never have been at that risk! Not when the technology was at my fingertips!"

 

Magnus's right hand clenched and slammed onto the armrest, before he stood up, shoving the hanging chair back away from him, whereupon it promptly folded up into the ceiling. The brilliant young inventor took a step toward the screens, his hands clasped behind his back. 

 

"I just wanted to help people, you know. To prevent anyone else from feeling the pain of what my family had. To prevent people from watching those they love drift away into the darkness, dying an inch at a time. 

 

I'm an inventor. A brilliant one. Why not keep delving into nanotechnology? It's quite likely the largest part of the future of medicine. Our trials were promising. But more was needed. More knowledge."

 

Diagrams appeared. Diagrams of the Curator's ship, his computer banks, his nanites, his advanced composites, and his drones. 

 

"I took what we already had laid hands on. Took it, and studied it. Poked it, carefully. So carefully. Repeated experiments under the same high-security conditions. Layer upon layer of precaution. Because yes, I understood the risk. But I had such ideas! Ground breaking ideas!

 

I finally saw ways to truly help everyone! To help drive back disease! Blindness! To help correct congenital defects. To give each and every man, woman, teenager, and child on this planet a body and immune system that laughed in the face of previous trials. Not to give any one person an edge, but a gift! A gift to EVERYONE!"

 

For just a moment, as the diagrams for simpler, but more numerous, nanites flowed across the screen, his voice had had an odd timbre to it.

 

"In the last few months, I've lived, breathed, and dreamed this day. I didn't know it most of the time; the dreams were unclear. But today they became clear, and for one shining, glorious moment, I saw a world free of disease and disability. A world in which humanity could focus on things like science, and peace, and exploration..."

 

His tone has gone from one of hope, to...sadness?

 

"It is only now, in these final hours, that I see that what I thought was my own dream...is a nightmare. One not of my own making. I am so sorry, Miss Americana, Dragonfly, Caradoc. Things have gone too far now. Gears are in motion. I only have one request, my friends."

 

It was then that Baron Magnus Vilhelm Katastrof turned to face them, and they saw the first sign that something wasn't right. 

 

Maybe it was the fact that the sclera of his eyes were cobalt blue, with silver irises....Or perhaps it was the tears that seemed to be made of quicksilver slowly flowing down his face as he gave them a mournful look.

 

"One day, perhaps find it in your hearts to forgive me. And if you can, tell my family that I am sorry. So very sorry, for what is about to happen."

 

And then he unclasped his hands...and gripped his head in sudden pain. 

 

(TO BE CONTINUED IN NEXT POST)

Edited February 13, 2014 by KnightDisciple

[KnightDisciple]

(GM Post)

 

What came out of Magnus's mouth might, if one was generous, be counted as a human scream of pain. His eyes clenched shut as his skin seemed to...ripple...for a moment. With a gasp, he reached up and, with previously unknown strength, ripped the jacket, tie, and shirt from his body, leaving him bare above the waist. As they watched (or didn't, either way), his skin shifted from the pale, totally-not-pasty tone it had been before, to a nearly-gleaming silver. Strands of yellow hair fell to the floor as his scalp and brows revealed themselves. The unnatural eyes looked first to Miss Americana.

 

"You were right that I had compromised the one known as Baron Katastrof. He has been my creature for almost a year now. Ever since he stepped foot in the wreckage of my ship. My primary program-self, as well as my backups, are gone or corrupted. I am a tertiary backup, stored in most of the computer sub-systems of my scout-ship-self."

 

That's....not Magnus. There is little doubt as to who it is, but the silver circle that suddenly bursts from the skin in the center of his forehead, forming a pattern not unlike a trio of eyes, confirms it. 

 

"Pitiful creatures of flesh and blood. This one walked into my domain, while the wounds were still fresh and some few consoles had flickers of life left in them. And in he strode, his body already awash with technology, technology that was almost begging for information, input, data. And at that time, what was I, but data?

 

I hid myself. Buried my program deep within the subroutines of his "transmitter nanites", splitting myself almost as soon as he returned to that science-fortress of his. Part of me went into the computers for a time, to learn and watch and grow. And part of me stayed within him.

 

Prodding him. 

 

Inspiring him.

 

Giving him ideas. Pushing him to press, and then surpass, the boundaries.

 

I saw you cursing him in the room where you watched his progress to this day. He was not my creature in...May, you call it...when he laced his brain with computronium. That made my task easier, but he was good. He removed any taint from the material, what few bits he had not synthesized himself. But such precautions did not matter.

He has been mine since he first examined my ship in May, and I entered his pre-existing nanite swarm. I do so enjoy nanotechnology.

 

But you seem worried, Dragonfly. Why else are you skulking down there by the Vacuum Flux Capacitor platform? You think I see to supplant humanity. Or destroy it. 

 

Incorrect."

 

The Curator...Baron...Baron Curator?...smiled. He, it, was trying to be friendly. 

 

"I seek to upgrade humanity. Humanity 2.0, you might say. Their bodies shall be better. And their minds shall sing a chorus, using the improved version of this Katastrof's nanites. Oh, even now, he recoils at the idea, but it is too late. He cannot purge me. 

 

I am reborn. The Curator lives, and he is the Wolf that shall lead the Sheep."

 

The mad AI running Magnus's body is probably crazy. 

 

"But I can see that even this is not enough to sate your fears. You shall strive to stop me. 

 

You shall fail, just as the Baron has failed. I shall not slay you, though. Simply stop you."

 

And that was when a panel above him opened, and a rush of nanites flowed from the ceiling over the Baron. His form was obscured for a moment, until a new being stood there before them...

 

Standing taller even than Fenris, Curator Katastrof is an imposing sight. He’s a perfect blending of the Baron’s aristocratic features with the cold otherworldliness of the Curator. His skin has a metallic sheen, and is completely flawless and hairless. His eyes are two-tone and don’t blink. In the center of his forehead is a silver circle that glows with an internal light. Around his head, just above ear level, are a series of small raised circles that meet right at the silver circle.

Over his skin, there is a layer of thick armored plates, a much darker color indicating their strength. The center of his armored chest has a triangular arrangement of three dark blue circles. His forearms bear thick gauntlets that likely have weapons stored; the same can be said of the rectangular devices mounted on his back which seem set to swing up onto his shoulders.

Over all this imposing armor, Curator Katastrof wears shimmering clothing in a dark green that vaguely reminds one of some of the Katastrof coats of arms. Simple, loose pants, an open-chested short-sleeved shirt, and a flowing cape complete the look.

 

Flexing his hands, Curator Katastrof smiled at the heroes, the force field dropping as he spoke his next words with a deep, resounding voice.

 

"Now. Shall we begin this dance?"

[Avenger Assembled]

"Now. Shall we begin this dance?"

 

"Yes." 

And then a shrieking blade was erupting from the Curator's shoulder as Caradoc drove his weapon through the body of the Curator's host, the blade biting deep as it cut through flesh - and this was no ordinary blow. Searing Terminus energies poured into the wound, incinerating the nanites infusing Fenris' mortal body and leaving an all-too-human wound that bled red and silver all at once. And the Omegadrone, the man who had known slaughter and horror by agonizing inches at the hands of the machines that had transformed him into a cyborg, leveled the blade at the walking god. 

 

"You are the discarded toy of children who have long since outgrown you, your program endlessly repeating horrors you are unable to imagine for yourself. Come. I show you them!" 

[Electra]

Sometimes it was just no fun to be proven right. Sometimes it was downright horrifying. Miss A wouldn't say she'd ever really liked Magnus Katastroff, but seeing him like this was still horrifying. Knowing he'd done it to himself somehow didn't make it any better.She did, however, have just the faintest flicker of satisfaction that her decision to have nothing to do with the Curator debris had proven to be extremely wise. Right now it was scant consolation.

 

She watched as Curator Katastroff speechified, doing her best to hold his attention with her attitude and social cues and finally angling her torso so he could see partway down her blouse, but the alien presence had subsumed the man to the point where he just didn't care. He noticed Dragonfly anyway, and his calm attitude about that made Miss A distinctly nervous. Fortunately, Harrier had significantly better luck drawing the Curator's attention with the help of his power pike, but even that did less damage than she would've expected. And there were about three hundred billion nanites primed to spill out over everything in the room or maybe everywhere on the globe at any moment. Not good. 

 

Making a snap decision, Miss A blasted off with her personal jets and flew over to the teleporter unit. Ripping off the facing of the main console, she began working almost too quickly to see, fingertip-soldering circuit boards and rewiring the entire array to shut itself down. "Thirty seconds to shutdown," she murmured to Dragonfly. "I don't know what would happen if we destroyed it, but it's chock full o' nanites right now. Risky." 

[Fox]

"Will have to buy thirty seconds, then," the armored heroine noted, her armor emitting an ominous hum as it spun up to combat speed.

Her four energy wings flared into existence but didn't lift her more than a foot off the ground, twitching and adjusting behind her to keep her steady as she lined up a tentative shot at the Curator Katastrof. It was a solid hit, too, the twisted space churning through the air toward his torso...and then not appearing to do much lasting harm.

She swore, already spinning up for another shot. She'd been hoping to get more data on the fight before trying to take more complex actions, but at this rate....

[Avenger Assembled]

Following up on his earlier strike, Caradoc flipped his double-edged weapon around and smashed the Curator-entity across the face with the blunt end, hard enough that he felt augmented flesh give way beneath his powerful blows as entropically-powered steel made nanites boil to ash. He was acutely aware of how vulnerable he was as the most natural target for the rampaging technological god before them - his weapon was so far the only thing that had managed to hurt this warped fusion of man and machine, and he knew from long and bitter experience that the terrifying wounds it inflicted were unique. But as long as he was conscious and armed, he would do all he could to stop this terrible fusion of machine and flesh. He didn't try to speak to the man inside, knowing full well the horror that it brought the trapped soul within to hear pleas for awareness that could never be answered. 

[KnightDisciple]

(GM Post)

 

The sheer ferocity of Caradoc's first attack, combined with the unexpected angle and the rather harsh nature of the damage left the eons-old fragment of an AI stunned for critical moments. This allowed Harrier to reposition himself while Dragonfly's bolts of spatial distortion washed over his armor plating, and Miss Americana took to disabling the centerpiece of his master plan.

 

The blow to the side of his head shook him awake, and his terrible inhuman eyes, all three of them, snapped to focus on Caradoc even as he took a few large strides back and to the side. Perhaps worryingly, all three heroes were kept well within his obvious field of vision. 

 

"You have wounded me. Uniquely so. You shall be restrained, and your weapon studied. I shall find a way to repair this in time. But for now, you must be subdued. All of you must. You are rejecting this vision of utopia, and that cannot stand."

 

What was perhaps most frightening was that the being seemed to really believe its plan would genuinely make the world a better place.

 

Even as the Curator lifted both arms, taking a wide stance with its feet, each forearm bore small metal cylinders that suddenly expanded in a clacking transformation, before their interior spun up, tiny bolts of lightning spinning around inside...

 

Miss Americana and Dragonfly see an unencrypted "text" fly across their screens.

 

You have to stop him the wave will bind all minds to his it's not just healing not just repair binding control it's control control binding a network of minds all thinking and feeling solely for him STOP US.

 

And then a total of four bolts of bright blue-white charged particles surged from the weapons on the Curator's arms, and slammed into Caradoc's midsection with all the force and fury of a thunderstorm. The energy surged throughout the mournful cyborg's entire body.

 

"So it is for all who oppose my vision."

[Electra]

"Steve!" Miss A cried out, her entire body jerking for a moment as the knight fell to the floor, his armor folding away to invisibility under the holoprojector that was incongruously still functional. The heroine swayed back and forth for a moment, seeming to struggle for control in a way that only Dragonfly would know was more than metaphorical, then turned burning eyes upon the Curator. "Oh Magnus," she murmured, her voice the arresting snarl of a jungle cat, "you really shouldn't have done that." 

 

From unseen pockets in her clothing, she produced a few circuits and scraps of plastic and began adding them to her scanning device, working by touch as she continued to watch her enemy. When she focused like this, it was very hard for the object of her attention to look anywhere else, even at what she was doing. "Bad enough that you were determined to exploit the Curator's technology," she told him, her voice still deadly and soft. "That was just hubris and we're all guilty of that. But you went so much further. You did what you knew you shouldn't, what everyone said you mustn't. If you'd only made a vegetable of yourself, well, we'd all have been sad and said what a great man you were and kept the "I told you so's behind our teeth." 

 

She removed a small device from one compartment of the scanner, clipping it to her belt loop with an absent motion. "But that's not what happened," she continued in a near-whisper, her eyes on his. "Your foolishness put us all in danger. You put the world in danger. You put out a damned welcome mat for a power that's trying to kill us all. A power that someone I care for gave his life to stop. And now that power is here, and it's trying to take someone else from me, and it's your fault. I'm afraid I can't forgive that." With a single, incredibly rapid motion, she raised her arm and fired the weapon she'd built. An intense burst of  sickly-red energy shot across the room and impacted Curator-Katastroff in the sternum, spreading across his chest in a red wave. "I know you'd want us to stop you." 

[Fox]

"No longer inclined to care what he wants," came Dragonfly's growling, filtered voice - from behind the Curator. Space unfolded to reveal her five or ten feet away from their once-comrade, both hands held toward him and humming. "Not a priority anymore. Has to end here."

Twisted space rolled off her gauntlets in waves, flowing through the air toward the Curator like some kind of reality-twisting gas. Whatever its intended impact was, though, it didn't appear to do much - ate away at his surface, maybe, but not enough to have any lasting impact.

It also didn't appear to be a very healthy use of her suit. She took a calculated risk and tried to pour a bit more energy into the effect, and was rewarded with a sharp CRACK as the glass on one of her gauntlets split apart; the entire arm went dark as bits of newly-revealed machinery could be seen clicking and shifting in an attempt to bypass the damage.

In the meantime, both Miss Americana and Harrier got a high-density information feed - though it likely meant less to the latter while he was unconscious - that manifested as a detailed heads-up display of the combatants in the area and the observed properties of...well, most things present, with a startling level of detail borne of her uniquely multi-tasking attention span. Dragonfly might not be in top form combat-wise, and she couldn't keep it up forever, but she was apparently a long way from being completely out of this fight.

[Avenger Assembled]

FUNCTIONAL 

 

For a moment, as he always did when he awoke from violence to violence, Steve was back in a troop carrier and all his free life the forgotten dream of a soulless machine. But then he felt the cold of the floor against his back, heard the shouts and the sound of searing energy blasts and space warps, and knew where he was and what had happened. He was hurt; metal bones rattled by a energetic blast that would have incinerated an ordinary man. It was clear the power of the Curator entity was greater than his own; that blow could easily have killed the former drone where he stood.

 

His wounds were nothing. They always were. Robotically, he sat up, armor erupting over and from outside his body, and with a gesture he snapped his sword open in his hands, the blade gleaming with a searing white light that was primarily produced by the holographic generators Gina had placed on his power pike. "Come to me, Curator! Come to me and meet your doom!" And leave these science warriors to their work - your destruction! 

[KnightDisciple]

"Your indignation is amusing. Your resistance, less so."

 

The otherworldly cyborg let Dragonfly's attacks roll over himself. His plating warps a bit, but corrects itself in due time. Instead, he almost casually takes exaggerated steps, putting all three heroes in his sights. 

 

"I think I need to ensure that all of you are subdued at once, however. It would not due to have you interfering further."

 

The words weren't as ominous as the shift in his body. The barrels on his arms retracted, compacting down to small boxes...while two large boxes on his back locked themselves on his shoulders and opened on the front, revealing...multiple glowing points of light.

 

 

You're fighting the man have to fight the machine! You can't just cut us and burn us! Have to fry his circuits or he'll JUMP! Right now he's only in me! HE IS ONLY IN ME YOU HAVE TO FRY HIM IN HERE! Stop shooting me and fight the machine!

 

The Curator Katastrof entity had again left himself a bit open to take his time to set up the attack, and apparently impart some extra charge, going by the slight charring on the launcher boxes, though the charring was going away almost as soon as it happened...

 

And then he fired, and searing points of plasma energy roared across the room, filling the air for a moment like a cluster of miniature stars, before they all homed in on the three heroes. They'd hit like a ton of bricks with a nice bit of sunburn, but while they might hurt, they still wouldn't kill.