The machine is clinging for dear life, repeatedly getting launched off of the writhing tentacles and pulling itself back. The multitude of yelling barely gets through to it, practically fully running on autopilot. Its fuel is higher than it was before it even fell through the trees, drinking directly from the beast.
It wanted to say that maybe it felt good to fight like this again. Maybe it felt good to fulfill what it was meant to after so long in the barren Hell it was from. It did what it was supposed to, clearing out the entirety of Hell, killing everything in its path, destroying the Earthmover, destroying Hell itself with no reward. There was nothing to do and nothing to be other than a slowly dying, rotting corpse of a machine.
This was supposed to feel good.
It parries another shotgun shell directly into the beasts eye, unloading a barrage of overheat nail shrapnel next, burning and slicing into its retina. It does it as if its done it a hundred times before, and has.
This was what it was meant to do.
It catches the sight of Gabriel falling into the sand, the beast roaring in pain at the shot it puts through its skull and Kelp down below. It thinks shes about to deal the final blow while the machine is midair, only for her to suddenly be knocked backwards, skidding against the sand, too far to assess any sign of life from its point in the sky.
None of this is fulfilling anymore. The blood flooding its systems, the act of killingāits so used to it that it feels like nothing at all. It's purpose has become so bland. Repetitive, unfeeling, fueled by the hate and violence of its human predecessors.
It's not supposed to, but it cares so much. It was never embedded into its code to love like this, to be so scared of others being hurt. It was supposed to quickly help its swarm up and continue simply because it was quickest. If it was too damaged, it was supposed to use them as fuel.
It wasn't supposed to think this much. It wasn't supposed to love.
But what can it do if it does ?
Everything it had was gone before meeting these people. Heaven, Hell and Humanity.
V1 had no purpose anymore.
Bug would have to make its own.
16 seconds was all it needed. The railcannon recharges, the electrifying sound buzzing in the air, heavy and dangerous. The beast before them has fallen, laughing like it had won.
Bug tosses a coin in the air, launching it into orbit with the knuckleblaster, nearly out of sight. Quickly it tosses another, optic focused on the eye of the beast. The malicious railcannon in its arms buzzes and launches it back slightly as it fires, expertly hitting the fresh coin.
It launches into the stratosphere, chaining off of the one it punched, and blitzes back down towards the creature, straight into its eyeball with a fiery explosion before it can even try to laugh again.
The nearby plant life that remained catches fire, the gore of the monster raining down with the force of the explosion, the smell of smoke and ozone heavy in the air.
Bug lands back on the floor without a sound, light as a feather against the sand, soaked in blood...
