i’m fuckin’ invincible! - team 9 gold round
The cave crumbles, its rocky exterior giving way to the open air. Dust clouds whip up as the arena does away with its drab and dreary setting, but they do not last long, for a deluge of rainfall immediately snuffs them out. They are high in the clouds now, our heroes, situated atop a concrete plateau just barely beneath petering droplets. As Owain looks down, he can see roads and buildings, but not any kind of road or building from his world. No, this technology is foreign, almost alien. Were it not for his adventures in Eden, he wouldn’t have a name for his setting. A city is what he knows it as, despite it contrasting with the preestablished definition of the word. They are atop a skyscraper: another word he has come to know through that book. As his eyes scan the horizon he notices several more sprouting from the ground he can barely make out, though none are as tall as the one he fights on.
His head then snaps to his enemy, and his gear is exchanged for a new set. A pegasus’ wings lift him into the air, and all that heavy stuff from last round has disappeared to make room for a pair of gauntlets in his hands. He scoffs at his foe, for he knows it will be taken down in spite of its gargantuan size. It is a metal titan of near-unimaginable design, standing on two legs and sporting a pair of protrusions he can only guess are meant to be arms. But they connect into no sort of hand, and are positioned up and out of the way of the creature’s body--almost like a bird’s wingspan. Its giant metal face opens and lets loose a mechanical roar, shattering the glass on floors below, and causing a smaller triad of drones to cling to their stadium. It then goes silent, and a translucent veil envelops its body. It disappears, though perhaps blending in would be a better way of stating things. Its body is now the same color as they grey sky and falling rain--a target impossible to hit, again in spite of its gargantuan size.
“Hmph,” Dark smirks, pulling his weapons on tighter, “you dare make an enemy of me? You will meet your end, fiend, for I have been reborn as the Fist of the South Star! Watch as I unleash my fury!”
Owain uses Brave Knuckles! Roll 4d20+6 = 11, 9, 17, 17; hit, hit, hit, hit! -3 HP, -3 HP, -3 HP, -3 HP; Radio Scout: Scrap A 8/20 HP
Self-Repair activates! Roll 1d7 = 7, Alloy Arsenal: Revengeance consumes Radio Scout: Scrap A to heal +1 HP and gain a permanent +1 luck
“My first four forms collide against your tin-can flesh! URAAHH!”
“Fall to the might of my Blade of Light!”
“Garden of Gaiden will leave you reeling!”
“Taste my Mystery of the Emblem!”
“Genealogy of Infinite Pain! It hurts so bad, your grandchildren will be wincing for years after your death!”
Of note is the fact that robots do not have children. They do, however, get eaten. And this one, after taking a beating of four deadly punches from the Scion of Legend, does just that. The kill switch in its body detects that it has taken sufficient damage, and lights a siren to signal it is no longer of use. Instantly Owain’s foe is consumed by the bigger one. He recoils in disgust, flying back a few feet with his mount, but is ultimately undeterred. When another bot climbs up to replace the first, he is quick to strike it down just as he did its predecessor, spouting another quartet of special moves.
Summon Scouts activates! Radio Scout A is replaced!
Owain uses Brave Knuckles! Roll 4d20+6 = 7, 24, 15, 17; hit, hit, hit, hit! -3 HP, -3 HP, -3 HP, -3 HP; Radio Scout: Scrap A 8/20 HP
Self-Repair activates! Roll 1d7 = 3, Alloy Arsenal: Revengeance consumes Radio Scout: Scrap A to heal +1 HP and gain a permanent +0.5 base damage
“Had enough yet? You will after a Thracia Thrashing!”
“This move I know well, so cower in fear! Sacred Stones Strike!”
Any unfortunate enough to watch would have the misfortune of bearing witness to a near-identical fight. Each ramming of his fist puts another dent or break in the small scout’s hull, and after he shouts his last move, it gets repurposed like the first.
Again the roof of this building is shaken by the roaring of the machine. This time it feels stronger against Owain’s flesh, knocking him and his mount onto the ground. He holds on, just barely, but his effort is futile. Another scout comes to replace his second kill, creating a dip in his ego and a falter in his resolve. Is there even a point to fighting these things?
Dark backs off, deciding he’s had enough with mechanical gluttony for now. His plan is to wait for the big one’s cloak to wear off, and give it a taste of his next eight sacred forms.
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