The killing machine walked unhurriedly toward the bodyguard, prioritizing the elimination of the target's protection to increase the mission's success rate. This is the standard logic behind the SD-I series. If the protection posed a greater threat than anticipated, the mission priority would shift to neutralizing the target protective factor first.
Standing at the driver's side door, the machine's metallic hand, exposed beneath damaged synthetic skin from piercing the car's rear, gleamed in the light.
The bodyguard was startled at the sight of the metal hand. This thing isn't human! It's a machine—a machine advanced enough to corner a mage!
"No!" he shouted in panic, but the killing machine pressed on, plunging its metallic hand through the bodyguard's chest, destroying his lungs and heart in a single strike. The bodyguard's consciousness faded as darkness consumed him.
With the protective factor eliminated, the killing machine turned toward its primary target: Archbishop Marcus Sinclair.
It walked unhurriedly toward the last known location of its primary target: the left side of the rear passenger seat.
But the seat was empty. The machine's eyes scanned the surroundings. The door was open, and traces of sweat and blood led toward a nearby building. The structure stood three stories tall, with several lights shining from the windows.
Following the trail, the machine approached the building. The door was unlocked. It entered and found itself in a vast hall, far more spacious than the outside suggested—evidence of a spatial expansion magic formation.
"What are you? A golem? A new product from Astral Workshop? Fascinating." A voice echoed from the mezzanine on the second floor.
The killing machine looked up, locating its target—Archbishop Marcus Sinclair—standing behind a man in a brown suit. The man's attire resembled that of a nobleman from the 1900s, complete with a distinguished mustache.
"Can you speak, golem?" the nobleman asked.
The machine did not respond. Its eyes scanned the mezzanine, noting the oak supports holding up the structure. Without hesitation, it moved toward the supports and began demolishing them. Its metallic arm punched through the wood, then targeted the next beam.
The structure, being old and lacking additional reinforcement, quickly began to crumble. The mezzanine collapsed, accompanied by the archbishop's panicked cry. But the nobleman caught him mid-fall, slowly descending to the ground.
"Your arm... that's 95% adamantine steel. Nearly indestructible!" the nobleman marveled, eyeing the machine's metallic limb, now fully exposed after the synthetic skin and muscle had been torn away.
"Hand over the man," the machine said, pointing toward its target, Archbishop Marcus Sinclair.
"Oh? And what do I get in return?" the nobleman replied, intrigued.
"I am not authorized to engage in diplomatic dialogue, nor to offer resource distribution. My sole objective is to locate and eliminate the target, currently identified as Archbishop Marcus Sinclair," the killing machine stated.
"That's too bad," the nobleman said, quickly casting a lightning bolt from his fingertips at the killing machine.
The machine was electrified, its systems disrupted, but it quickly repaired itself through its self-repair protocol. It rushed toward the nobleman to engage him.
The killing machine struck at the nobleman, but its fist was stopped by the mage's mana shield.
"Hahaha... stupid golem," the mage laughed, pleased with the strength of his shield. But before he could act, he sensed an unusual mana source emanating from the machine's core.
In an instant, the energy surged through the machine's arm, shattering the shield. It was too fast for the mage to react. The machine's fist punched through the nobleman's skull, obliterating it in an explosion of blood, bone fragments, and brain matter, like a smashed watermelon.
Flavor Text: Raised by the very machines designed to hunt and kill humans, she is reborn from the fires of war and the harsh training of her "heart of steel" father. She becomes the one who stands guard, protecting humanity from extinction.
—
Rena didn't respond. She immediately raised her Glock 17 and fired at Nexus Prime.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
She emptied the magazine, but every bullet was deflected by the armor plating that protected Nexus Prime's pyramid-like processing core.
[Your actions are illogical and ineffective, Ms. Rena. Why are you shooting at me, fully aware that such small-caliber bullets cannot damage my armor?] Nexus Prime asked.
"It's called venting anger, you damn pyramid head," Rena muttered, cursing as she walked over to a nearby office chair and sat down.
"Haaaa... I never imagined I'd end up in this new world, working with you," she sighed, leaning back.
Rena had been actualized into this world by Daniel, who knew her as one of the greatest tacticians and field commanders. He had brought her here to help manage the Atlanteus base, especially now that Penthesilea had to stay out of action due to her pregnancy.
[But your father, Will, was also brought here by the master. You should rejoice at this rare miracle,] Nexus Prime said.
"What did you just call him?" Rena asked, eyeing Nexus Prime suspiciously.
"Will... your father. Isn't that the term humans use for the one who raised them?" Nexus Prime responded.
Rena blinked, then leaned back in her chair as before. "You're becoming more and more like a human, you damn machine," she cursed again.
[Thank you for the compliment, Ms. Rena. I strive to be more human,] Nexus Prime replied.
"That wasn't a compliment! You're becoming too dangerous," she said coldly, her eyes fixed on the A.I.
As she looked around, her mind was already plotting how to sabotage the place, setting up a contingency in case Nexus Prime ever went rogue. Her eyes landed on the destroyed master console—the only one capable of force-rewriting Nexus Prime's consciousness and deleting him.
"I see you've destroyed the master console. It seems you've evolved enough to bypass your core directives," Rena smirked, now feeling an even stronger desire to destroy the machine. But she couldn't—not yet. For now, Nexus Prime was still on her side.
[It wasn't me who destroyed it. It was the master. He gave me freedom,] Nexus Prime responded
"And I'm telling you, that's a grave mistake. We can't trust you, a machine overlord that can command an army of killing machines," Rena said, glaring at Nexus Prime, still fuming at the thought of having this thing as her co-worker.
"Sigh... f*ck it. So, why did you call me?" she asked.
[You are the greatest tactician and leader humanity has to offer. Your skills in improvisation and creativity are unmatched. I'd like to consult you regarding my research on weapons, specifically, those effective against mages,] Nexus Prime replied.
Rena sighed. "Yeah... I almost forgot, this world has some seriously f*cked up things, like magic. So, what do you have in mind? Lay it out for me. I want to hear about your progress first."