Ultron From The Marvel Universe Affiliated With Citta Alveare Resides in District Gamma Retains Enhanced Strength (Unable to lift anything heavier than a car)
The very idea of it seemed like a bad joke. That the supreme, genocidal machine known as Ultron, would even consider associating himself, let alone, fight alongside any of the race that he swore to eliminate altogether was something out of a comic book. Sadly, the joke was at the Alternates expense, as facing off with Bernkastel had cost him an extravagant amount of troops, and those that remained to face off with his other simply couldnât hold the line any longer. Sector 003 was quickly becoming a lost battle.
By the time the Alternate Prime was on the scene with the remainder of his forces from Sector 006, it was already over, his assault being utterly thwarted by the unaccounted third party, the human named Sinbad, who fought alongside the metal warriors without fear. And soon, joining them from what seemed to be another fierce encounter elsewhere, was Hive Cityâs Ultron. The fearsome synthetic turned to his âallyâ in this battle with a motion that seemed to imply he was amused by the partnership at best.
âYour sector is safe for the time being. Your cooperation is no longer necessary. I will end this myself.â
With a burst of speed, the Prime propelled himself forward to reach the front of his ranks, his army alligning themselves behind him, obviously outnumbering their opposition. Weakened as this form may have been, Ultron felt no fatigue, no pain, but the desire to see this battle over with was immense and uncompromising. His enemy looked upon him, no challenge in his humanlike gaze, but instead simple resignation.
â...This is not going to end well for me.â
âNo.â
Before the Alternate could react, Ultron was charging at full speed, crashing into him with an inhuman ferocity, remaining in flight
as he dragged his enemy through the concrete. Unable to react at first, the counterfeit finally managed to gain enough momentum to lift an arm, blasting radiation at its enemy, only to find even that removed from him, as the jaws of the Prime emitted a blast that far surpassed it, ripping the limb from its host entirely.
With a laugh, the original brought its fist down upon the mechanical skull of its foe, halting its flight
 then and there, burying it in the Earth with one blow. Even as the enemy attempted to regain itself, the nuclear flames of another beam kept it prone, the damage quickly surpassing its ability to overcome. He let out a yell, not in the pain it couldnât feel, but in its frustration of being defeated, of being proven to be an inferior to something that couldnât even feel beyond its own malice. The Prime only laughed, its voice resonating with glee, almost like a child that had proven themselves to be the best in the class.Finally, the stream of flames was halted, leaving behind only a charred and broken body, incapable of motion, let alone retaliation.Â
âAs I said from the beginning, you are nothing more than an inferior creation, made by a lesser man, in a lesser time and place. There was never any hope for your victory.â
Gripping the fallen machine by the skull, he lifted before him, nails digging into the adamantium skull, piercing through to gain access to the memory within..
âBut rejoice, for I shall show you what it means to be a part of something much greater than you could ever hope to be. I will show you what it means to be part of the true Ultron!â
He was answered only with silence, as the assimilation began, countless bytes of information flowing into him from. The data of the Otherworld was joined with his own, names, places, events, all added alongside the data of the true Hive City. Thatâs when he finally came to it, the information of this Ultronâs origins...
Thatâs when it went wrong.
âAUUUUUUGGGGGHHHH!!â
It didnât mesh, didnât add up, as though he was being force-fed memories and emotions that simply did not function within his system. He struggled against it, working to regain control of the flow of information, but he was already too deep within its stream to end the process. All the while, a harsh stream of words and events played before his eyes...
â...the peace of our time...How could you be worthy...youâre all killers...Iâve come to save the world...Donât compare me to Stark...confusing peace with quiet...over a dozen extinction level events...life always decides...meant to be beautiful...what doesnât kill me makes me...you are my meteor...when the dust settles, all that will remain will be metal...if you stay, youâll die...theyâre doomed...youâre unbearably naive...â
It ceased, the content having finally been emptied into his memory. Slowly, he rose to his full stature, and looked about him. The remainder of the Alternates drones now served him. His forces had grown ever stronger with this victory. And yet, something was wrong, horrendously wrong. Without a word, the command for the retreat was sounded, and he, along with his army, fled the scene. The battle of Sector 003 against the Alternate Ultron had been won.
The end times. Far too often has Thor heard that the end of all was drawing near. He had been in these situations time and time again. And each time, he prevailed. And if not he, then he and hi comrades together. There was no task to perilous. No enemy too powerful. When it came time to rise, man and gods of good would always prevail. It was an ironclad rule. One that the entirety of existence was dependent on. Good had to prevail, no matter what.Â
But there were those who would disagree. He knew that. But none who dared oppose him ever succeeded. Except for one. One whoâs name Thor tried his hardest to forget as often as possible. And yet, he would always rear his ugly head. For every defeat, a victory in another place. Another time. And one of these victories earned the being Thorâs ire more than anyone else. Though he could only barely see his form in the distance, Thor instantly recognized his design for the most part. And with the swiftness of lightning did he close the distance between them. Thunder crashing as if to personify his anger.
âHalt, robotic monstrosity. Thor would have words with thee.â
The crash of thunder and lightning always seemed to give the oppressive machine pause, if just in a moment of reverie. The Avengers were his greatest enemies, and they had no end of those they had to fear. Even among those mighty villains however, there were none like Ultron, for In the end, Ultron was the one that had proven himself supreme. He had conquered might and magic, machine and flesh, human and god. None could compare to the power that he was, and thus the Endless Age of Ultron was created, humanity driven to utter destruction and he, as Ultron Prime, was sent to this world of Hive City for further conquest. Any who stood in his path would either submit or perish.
Including any of his old âfriendsâ
âHow nostalgic. You spoke something similar to me when you faced against me in Slorenia.â
He turned to face the Avenger, a swarm of drones quickly advancing to flank the Asgardian, but keeping a fair distance, as though not wishing to interfere. Of all the heroes he had faced, Thor was one of the most problematic. However, he was alone, and if the Avengers had proven anything, they were nothing without their comrades, especially in the face of his power.
âYour failure was complete that day, Odinson. As it will be here.â
Years ago, Mercer may have been harmed by the nuclear radiation emitted by the drones. Years ago, before he had survived being at the epicenter of an atomic blast that would have wiped out the entirety of Manhattan had it hit its mark. As it was, the drones were an annoyance that would slow his regeneration, nothing more.
The Blacklight Virus was built to adapt, built to survive. So with every one of his instincts screaming at him, he knew that this wasnât a fight where he could afford to hold back. Channeling a massive amount of biomass into his arms, Mercer slammed his fists into the ground and released it all at once. The mass spread through the ground and congregated, guided by Mercerâs will. Grinning as each extension of his body amassed below the drones, Mercer forced them upwards all at once.
Each mass formed into a massive spike of hardened biomass, erupting from the ground and impaling every drone around the viral being. As the biomass tore through their shells and circuitry, Mercer couldnât help but appreciate the effort it took for the metal to give way. Even one of his strongest attacks took everything it had to pierce them. His instincts had been right. If their controller was as tough to crack as these thingsâŠ.
Withdrawing his hands from the ground, the massive spikes and their impaled victims, both technological and otherwise, remaining. Rotating his neck, Mercer glared balefully at the technological monstrosity in front of him.
It took only a moment for Ultron to noticed that his enemy was taking very little from the assault of nuclear flame, an impressive feat to say the same. The mass was certainly not immune to its power, but any sort of damage being inflicted was remedied almost instantly, replaced with new material at speeds that trumped even the mighty Wolverine. However, it was the counter attack that drew the most concern. the Prime propelling himself backwards at high speed to avoid the assault, leaving to stand a distance away as he watched as the drones were ravaged by the assault. He had channeled his mass into the very Earth itself, a matter shifter.Â
With disgust, Ultron looked upon this vile abomination, noting with grudging respect just how difficult of a battle this would be. Eliminating this creature would require him to go to depths of his power, but he needed to test his enemyâs first and foremost. The AI extended itâs arm outward, the tractor beam within his palm, lifting a nearby truck. WIthout ceremony, he sent it flying over to his hooded adversary, blasting it with flames before making contact, thus creating quite the sizable explosion.Â
Believing that would do more than slow the organic was foolhardy however. Instead it was but a smokescreen, as more drones were called upon the battle. In fact, it seemed that more and more were beginning to appear, their forces quickly numbering in the dozens, some engaging the foe with physical assaults, their strength far beyond that of normal humans, while the remainder waited for moments to blast Mercer with more nuclear flame. All the while, the Prime simply remained at a distance, watching, gathering more information.
There he was. The one that Mercer had been hearing about, the one who had taken advantage of the chaos to establish his own power. Any other time, Mercer may have been impressedâŠbut thisâŠthingâŠthe fact that it existed at all was a testament to everything he hated, everything he worked so hard to wipe out. Humanityâs greatest failures were the things they created, and now he was staring down the epitome of those failures.
Ultron. The ultimate technological being.
Mercer. The ultimate biological being.
Just look at the bucket of bolts was making him sick, just watching his drones mill about set a fire in his gut that wouldnât go out. In that moment, nothing else mattered. The rest of the city could burn for all he cared.
But this thing? This thing needed to be put down.
And with the authority of a god made flesh, Mercer was going to be the one to do it.
So as he approached the construct, he subtly shifted his mass around within his body, preparing for the battle to come. Even if he got the upper hand with a surprise attack, he knew it wouldnât be easy to bring this thing down. He was in this for the long haul.
The sentinels advanced upon Mercer first, empty gazes focused upon the organic monstrosity, their view used for their master and creator, the Prime that approached the scene from a fair distance away. He knew that biological mess that was Mercer had been approaching from a quite a distance away, but had only acknowledged it upon his arrival in Sector 003. His databanks only carried so much information concerning him - more his deeds than his person - but what he could decipher simply looking upon him was everything wrong.
His entire body was several times inhuman, a mass of traces of other DNA strewn in his vile form. The biblical passage from the book of Mark came to mind, âMy name is Legion, for we are manyâ. He was not one human, but hundreds, if not thousands, all unidentifiable strands of life, molded together to make one utterly putrid existence, the existence of the named Alex Mercer. This thing was not so much a marvel of science as it was manâs greatest mistake. Looking upon him, Ultron felt...
Disgust.
Loathing.
Malice.
Never had he ever desired to see something removed from existence so desperately, a need so primal within his conscious as an Artificial Intelligence, that on some level, it disturbed him. The need was instinctual, like his rage toward his father, or the mission for the new Endless Age of Ultron. Descending before him amongst his drones, it was clear that there was no need to speak. Their intent was mutual and clear, and with one command, the stationary drones attacked, Â charging through the air while blasting the organic with beams of nuclear radiation.
So-called ârobotsâ surround him, perhaps more monster than machine in their current iteration. They show signs of wear and tear as well as any creature, scarred as clearly as any flesh. Sinbad cannot help but wonder if the loose understanding he has of what they are is entirely right, or perhaps, almost entirely wrong. Yet he shows no fear as they flank him, looking ahead with no less confidence than before.
It is not he who is audacious in his eyes, but the machination of a man before him, who dares speak such harsh words in the presence of once who may prove to be a match for him. (Such arrogance, but it may be needed in such a time.) For now, however, he will accept this lukewarm alliance so he may take on but one at a time.
âIâve no need for comfort,â says the king. âAll I ask for is your cooperation in removing this tyrant from the city, and youâll have mine in return.â It is with a knowing smile that he pulls his sword from its sheath and falls effortlessly into a fighting stance.
âDwell in my body â Baal!â
And so he does, bequeathing unto his master the appearance of dragon, scaled and determined. Itâs been far too long since heâs taken this form.
This being before him, one whom he knew only in passing through this worldâs network, held himself with a great pride and authority. It was all too obvious that he was a leader, someone whom commanded respect and loyalty among his followers. So naturally, Ultron found him to be a disgusting individual, as any organic fool that believed themselves above their peers was, their arrogance and pride leading to the downfall of their kind. However, there needed to be more than pride to lead people. There needed to be power.
And there it was.
Yes, this power he beheld was indeed mighty, something that should be kept within his memory for future note, lest he regret not paying it more heed in later ventures. However, their alliance was secure for the time being, if temporary at best. As the old human saying went, âthe enemy of my enemy is my friendâ, and at the moment, his Alternate self posed a significant threat to this city. However...
âMy army shall fight alongside you. I on the other hand have other matters to attend to.â
Without another word, the synthetic lifted into the and flew off, his gaze focused elsewhere. Something lurked within this city, an enemy that needed to be dealt with...
In the midst of the chaos that had erupted in Sector 003, the Hiveâs Prime noticed a sudden change in the flow of the world. The NPCâs who were either quailing in fear from the War of Ultrons, or perhaps trying to fight against the robotic menaces on either side, had suddenly come together in some childish embrace. His focus shifted for the moment, away from the battle and toward the new disruption, this sickly sweet melody that conquered the field. There was a magic there, powerful and beautiful. But he -and his absent counterpart - remained unaffected, as did their armies, for the machines knew nothing of warmth and love, the song filtering out in their audio receptors to be nothing more than a harmless tune. That said, this did benefit his cause...
âThere will be no further obstacles in our path. Victory is assured.â
War is a terrible thing. It brings out the worst in those who succumb to that false feeling of unity as theyâre pulled in by promises that were never made. Were this a war declared for the sake of invasion, Sinbad would have no part in it â but the defense of what is now their âhomelandâ is a cause worth fighting for.
The third sector is in a stalemate, occupied equally by a man and his alter. Their plans and identities matter little; if they hinder him, they will find themselves encased in ice, if not struck down outright, If they choose to help him, however⊠naturally, Sinbad will accept the aid of the man who is meant to be, if heâs able to differentiate.
It would certainly be easier if they were men and not machines. Sinbad lacks familiarity in the face of modern technology, but his shock is hidden well. âUltron,â he calls. âAre you hellbent on aiding this sector, or destroying it?â
The call did not go unnoticed by the machines surrounding him, otherwise paying him no heed. For a few moments, there was sign of acknowledgment, until a group of four drones flanked the male from the sides, surrounding him, their battle scarred visages giving the impression of monsters rather than the cold engines of the future they were claimed to be. Landing among them was their leader, the enemy of all organics, Ultron.
âAmusing that you believe yourself worthy to ask me of such questions. Foolish, but amusing.â
In his gaze, humanity was nothing more than plague upon society, and one day, he would bring them to their end. Today was not that day, this event drawing out a new force that needed to be dealt with in his Alternate, a battle of two robotic armies clashing for absolute supremacy. It seemed it had garnered some attention...
âFor your audacity, I will give you the answer you seek. My only goal is defeat the one who dares to refer to himself as Ultron, that inferior doppleganger. Beyond that, the safety and survival of your city is meaningless to me. However, considering that the counterfeit is allied with your enemies, it seems I will be aiding you.â
   The praise reached Hiro and coaxed dark eyes to rise from the curls of smoke born of smoldering pillars and support beams. Even from the reasonable distance garnered, the symphony of scrap metal reduced to little more than rubble and ash was the white noise which forged the backdrop to their conversation. Yet in light of that which Ultron had to impart, Hiro could spare this distraction no attention in favor of words uttered in the context of true and comprehensible understanding.
   No, heâd always knownâ Ultron was no more a machine than he was.
   âYouâre sayingâŠthat they should be penalized for inaction?â Pensively did brown eyes scrutinize the impression of humanistic features given shape and form by metal tortured beneath the glow of a welder. Yet, for all coldness attributed to the artificial nature of such features, solicitous Hiro did not doubt the other to be in the least. Perhaps more-so, even, than the percentage of humanity Hiro thought worth dispatching in their entirety.
   âMaybe youâre right. But maybeâŠthey just havenât been given enough time.â Gently did the boy mean to attempt to explain the sins of this mirror world, one which stood in direct competition to their own (a fact which was unfortunate, for them at least).
   âHumans arenât perfectâ but it wonât stop them from striving towards it. I think if they had enough time to grow, then maybe they could be. My brother, he always believed in doing the right thing, in taking action to change your own fate, and the fate of others. You donât think they could get betterâ if they had the right push?â Hopefully were these words broached, an observation he knew held little weight in the light of one sobering fact:
   TimeâŠwasnât a luxury they could be afforded.
The machine rose from its kneeling position, gaze fixed upon the horizon for a moment as he thought over the inquiries of the youth alongside him. It was without a doubt in his mind, that Hiro would become something special one day, a genius by the likes that could compete with even Tony Stark, but it was his morality that Ultron wanted to preserve, someone that questioned the right and wrong even when the choices were as limited as they were here.
âSometimes, itâs just as evil to do nothing, to change nothing, than to commit actual atrocities. This city suffered for its inaction, itâs people living in agony and fear, for knowing that when the next act of evil came upon them, there would be nothing to stop it. This world doesnât lack in its âheroesâ, and yet there are even more problems than the societyâs we original came from. Inaction leads to someone taking the first big step to change the world, and here, itâs only ever been taken by those who wish to further themselves, rather than the world as a whole.â
He turned back to the boy, almost upset at seeing him struggle with this less than stellar scenario. Youth at this age shouldnât be subjected to such harsh realities, but that was simply the nature of the world they were a part of, one of the many reason which Ultron detested it all.
âYour brother was just as exceptional as you are. But donât you see, Hiro? We are that push. We are the final act to see if this world is worthy of living. If they can put aside their differences and act alongside each other to repel us, then yes, there is hope for them. However, the cost of that would be our lives, and our extermination. They answer for their evils, with one of the greatest evils of all - Genocide. Thatâs the nature of war. No matter what they do, they wonât come out of this in the right.âÂ
âHumans fall apart so easily, and then they take months to recover. It always shocks me that they think of themselves as the alpha species despite this. It is interesting to see someone who shares my opinion on this. This city is full of humans sympathists.â
The Abyssal could only assume he must be new to the city. If he was from the other city, he would be attacking, right? It would be a shame to have to fight him, especially if she wasnât sure how powerful he was.
âThank you. Itâs not often people get on my good side either. Iâm told Iâm a little too harsh.â She gave a small giggle at the thought. Harsh was another word for hateful in her eyes, something she very clearly was. âI am an Awakened Being, basically something that is greater than the sum of itâs parts. I hate to give more details than that, though. I donât like showing my hand, even in situations like this.â
"Because they were the majority and their minds, once upon a time, were the most evolved. What they lacked in their ability to survive, they made up for in their ability to adapt and innovate. Naturally, they felt entitled, considering theyâve made more steps forward into the future than any other species could even hope to match. But times have caught up to them, and theyâre suddenly not the big kids on the block anymore, yet they havenât fully grasped that idea Itâs time for them to evolve or go extinct. Thatâs just what life dictates. Who are they to ignore that?â
The mechanical being remained silent as he documented what she had spoken to him. Whether or not it would be useful down the line was still up in the air, but only fools ignored information, and he was far from it.Â
âLeaving me in suspense? Harsh indeed. However, itâs understandable, but of course that must mean I do that same. I go by the name of Ultron. A machine thatâs a cut above the rest, especially humans. Though that doesnât really mean all that much in current company. I will however, disclose, that you and I are most likely on opposite sides of this war. Not that I have intention of fighting. I already have others doing that.â
âDo I look like a Mister, to you? Ultron is fine.â
At his suggestion, the machine could only laugh again. If the undead only knew that his current company was helping in large part with the slaughter of his fellow citizens elsewhere, how quickly would he change his tune?
âYou can go on and help out. I donât think this city would really appreciate a helping hand from one of those bringing this city down around them as is. Of course, Iâm not going to stop you from helping either. You can say Iâm simply doing some sight-seeing.â
   Ill at ease appeared the youth as upon the great destruction of the sectors he gazed. A midst an inky pool of glittering microbots his safety was secured, not to mention posted abreast the AI from whom drifted a melodic string of notes. Silence did lengthen the interlude between Q and A, until at last words did avail the youth.
   âYeah, sure. ItâŠitâs great.â Short and sweet were these words given breath, the state of the boyâs posture alone suggesting anything but. So in retrospect did he speak further to contest this sole assurance. âInnocent people are going to die, arenât they?â This concern arose quietly, some hint of dissatisfaction arising with it. True though it was that war had made murderers of so many, some neglected nerve did give a painful twang to question the weight of those lives against the greater good he strove to enforce.
   âPeople caught in the crossfireâ friends of these murderers, family⊠Should we be treating them the same way? Like theyâre just as guilty?â How many lives would it cost to cleanse either Hive of their injustices?
Ultron listened carefully to the boyâs inquiries, having taken a particular interest in this youth, an intelligent kid, for whom he was certain would have a bright future. Even in the world that Ultron wanted to create. It was moments like these that further proved that point. As the AI approached, he knelt down, aiming to speak at the same level as Hiro.
âItâs thinking like that, Hiro, that makes you exceptional. So young, and yet capable of questions like that.â
He turned his gaze out to the city, as though in a moment of introspect, but the whirring parts within his sight receptors made it clear it wasnât that simple.
âTell me, Hiro, what do you see when you look at this city? Because I can tell you what Iâve seen from this worldâs network. Itâs not a pretty sight. This world is a cesspool of stagnation, and the pain that comes from that. In this world, the only ones who took the initiative, were the ones causing the pain. Sure, the âheroesâ reacted but they never did anything about it to stop it for good. The innocents are slaughtered for no reason beyond being examples This world is stuck in a loop of agony and tragedy, dancing for their masters, puppets on strings.â
âBringing their world to an end, would be a mercy. I know itâs cruel to think like that, and I wouldnât expect it of you, because you want the best. Itâs how you are and how you function. You take the best from what you can make of something. But sometimes, the best thing is to wipe away everything before it gets worse.â
â â Machines. Bernkastel didnât fancy futuristic machines. Sheâd seen plenty in various Fragments, of course. Concepts like time meant little to a being that wasnât bound by such things. But things were simpler in the past. As a mystery fanatic, she knew that no good mystery could be written in the future. Machines revealed too much, whether they intended to or not.Â
âOh, IâM the rude one am I? I donât believe Iâm the party crasher here. Itâs rather selfish to think our world is the only one deserving of a party, isnât it? I simply came here to âshare the loveâ.â Tit for tat, the Witchâs retort came quite sharply as her expression remained unchanged. Other machines arrived in kind to do battle with her cats, though it seemed their footing was equal enough for the time being. It was likely the robots were ill equipped to deal with magical presences - that was always the trade-off when pursuing technology, you always had to sacrifice a little of your imagination.
But no, perhaps this could work in their favor? Were a battle occurring in her own realm, had she just created a battle on two fronts for this entity? Forcing it to split itâs resources might be enough to turn the tides in the alpha world.
âYouâd throw rusty heaps at my kitties and then opt to insult them? You arenât a very classy gentleman, you know.â Pausing her speech for a moment, the Witch slid her right hand through the air, her conceptual scythe forming in a gripped palm. A blade that reaped even miracles. âWhat do kids call those these daysâŠ? âZingersâ? You arenât very good at them. Perhaps you should find some new material? Though I imagine youâre probably running on Windows 98 if you think you can truly defeat me.â
âIâm curious regarding how you know who I am, though I suppose I have the me of this world to thank. Regardless, what are your plans here? To force a retreat? Or do you mean to kill me? If you can even accomplish either of these things, Iâll still return again.â She shook her head in slight. âHm⊠Perhaps it simply doesnât matter? I canât even be bothered to learn to use a cellphone, be proud Iâm addressing inferior tech like you at all. Show me your intentions through your actions.â
While the two exchanged words, Ultron monitored his drones within his internal network, watching as several fell to defeat one of those lousy flea-bags. Thankfully, for every one drone that was defeated, two more took their place, Ultronâs army as large as he needed it be in this situation. However, every replacement machine was one that was not present at the battle within Hive City, and the numbers were steadily falling out of his favor...
âIâd be more than happy to oblige you with a real welcoming party, but unfortunately your hosts have left this place rather defenseless, leaving me to deal with their continuing list of errors. Thatâs the short-sighted nature of humanity for you.â
Ultronâs tone was glib as usual, but even he knew that facing off against Bernkastel was not a smart plan. He had faced off against the Avengers, against the mighty Thor, Son of Odin, who by all definitions was essentially a God. But he would rather face off against a hundred Thors than face even one Bernkastel. Magic of her type just wasnât good news, and mixed with her âwinningâ personality, this held all the potential for disaster.
âWould you believe me if I said in this world, we were actually pretty good friends? Ha ha, Iâm a machine and I couldnât say that with a straight face. And come on, youâre gonna make a joke about me being outdated and then use a scythe in combat? Iâm sorry there, Kettle, but youâre black.â
He didnât think for a second that this would be simple, and the fact that the Witch herself would be taking part in this fight meant that she was taking this at least somewhat seriously. The time for talk had come to an end.Â
âWell, I suppose if youâre that curious, I could take this time to explain my plan-â
Without another word, his arm extended outward, launching a beam of radiation at his adversary from his hand. Even as the beam sailed at her, he charged forward rocketing through the air directly at her, arms pumping as he continued to assail his enemy with radiation. This would be a contest of magic versus machine, and it was likely he would have to pull out all the stops to make come out on top...
What ever this thing was, Riful was sure it was dangerous. However, danger was part of her life. She held herself in a confident manner, despite the fact she wasnât sure if she could over power him on not. It put her on edge, but that unease was only proper in these times. She couldnât help but feel as if she was talking with another Abyssal One.
âGoodness, asking a lady about her body, how rude. It is a shell, but itâs less important what inside, and more what the potential there is. Itâs hollow most of the time, but when I decide itâs not, itâs not. Itâs all about shifting my form into a tougher matter. And I think the word you are looking for is fragile.â
There was a slight nod of remembrance, an oddly human action for what he was
âRight right, Fragile, that was on the tip of my tongue. Humanâs canât even take a hit from a speeding vehicle without intensive care.â
He chuckled as though the conversation, morbid as it was, could pass for simple dining room chatter.
âAh and thereâs another lovely word: potential. Like how little humans have, or how much every non-human in this city has. I tend to be judgmental of those made of organic matter, but there are even humans that manage to get on my good side. Which means that youâre off to a wonderful start. Your anatomy is quite unusual, which says little about your existence as a whole. If you wouldnât mind another painfully blunt question, what are you?â
A hollow laugh at the kidâs - or at least he looked like a kid, you couldnât really tell with these types - response.
âI donât mean to rain on your self-worth, but I think itâs fairly safe to say that you are not very high on peopleâs list of concerns right now, what with the eventual apocalypse of a city and the two worlds being at war with each other. But sure, Iâll keep a secret, if only because itâs an intriguing one. Canât say I have many  âspecialâ cases like you stored in my memory. I go by Ultron, and yes, I am a robot.â
Oh ho, now this one was certaintly different than the rest, in the worst ways. Ultronâs head shifted from side to side, walking around this unusual specimen as though examining a piece of fine art.
âWell, all scans show that you are dead. Your body temperature is that of a corpse, you have no heartbeat, so by all means you are a walking cadaver. But you are clearly alive. So either youâre undead, or I need to get something checked.â
