This Robot{Closed}
ultronprime
This proceeding taking place was nothing but an inconvenience to Nanaya. While others were dealing with their opposites, Nanaya had no such issue. His opposite already existed. Opposites of opposites seemed rather redundant. In any case, what bothered him more than anything was the constant fighting taking place near his place of residence. Every time without fail, there would be some sort of catastrophic event or scientific experiment in his sector. His mansion, now surrounded by corpses, fire, and what seemed to be robots was one of few pristine structures. People had sought shelter under his roof, but he did not open his gates.
Behind his gates lay his equally pristine lawn. Grass soft as a feather. The blades carried so much volume as if it were a bed born from the life blood of the earth itself. And yet, there was a dirty, loud, obnoxious, mouthy tin-can that aimed to ruin it. One patch. A single flaming piece of debris had fallen onto his beloved lawn and left its mark. One singular scar that would not heal...without proper botanical tending. But it was the act in of itself that annoyed Nanaya. For this singular act had sparked hatred within his heart.
This Robot. This Robot. This Robot. This Robot. This Robot. This Robot. This Robot. This Robot. This Robot. This Robot. This Robot. This Robot. This Robot. This Robot. This Robot. This Robot. This Robot. This Robot. This Robot. This Robot. This Robot. This Robot. This Robot. This Robot. This Robot. This Robot. This Robot. This Robot. This Robot. This Robot. This Robot. This Robot.
Gates sealed shut opened and for a split second, combat ceased. The mansion’s owner took a deep breath before unveiling his only weapon. His eyes would usually reflect the calm demeanor of a cold blooded killer, but Nanaya wasn’t about to “calmly” address this situation. Disappearing from the open gates, anything in his path that even seemed alive would seem to burst. Nothing would be left behind. Humans took slightly longer to fade from existence, but machines that were born so quickly held very little value in the eyes of the universe.
One tin-can stood out from the rest of the trash behind him. An entity that he had heard was addressed as “Ultron”. Brushing off the left over dust from his easily dispatched foes, Nanaya would press forward. He could by no means level an entire army with a single attack, but his belligerence was fueled by his rage. Plowing through the flesh and metal like an unstoppable plague, he would finally reach his goal.
“Ultron, right? I assume the army was yours? Or was that your alternates? Either way, your petty fighting marred my lawn. So. I’m here to kill you.”