LOG-009.
Before his current manifestation, he had been Zorgon.
And upon the end of it, he would likely be Zorgon again, until he found another name to make his own, in some other realm. Though part of him honestly pondered whether it would ever be as impressive as his current one.
Armageddon had not earned his material designation lightly, after all.
Of course, things were far more complicated, back then. And leading the mass manifestation of Legion Gamma's vanguard right into the deployment of a primitive human superweapon was just something that happened, sometimes.
It had certainly been a novel experience at least, feeling the volatile energies suffusing and interacting with his assembling form, until he'd taken root in the mangled remnants of the bomb that had released those energies in the first place.
Humanity had forever banned the use of those weapons after the three eyed steel demon had emerged infinitely stronger from the attempt, proclaiming himself Armageddon and laying waste to three separate armies over three days, before they'd finally managed to force him into a retreat…ah, but those were old glories.
Times were infinitely simpler now…and yet somehow so much more complex.
"A rescue mission is impossible, you know this my dear."
Staring down at Lovelace's trembling form, Armageddon carefully noted the General's clenched fists, talons digging ever so slightly into the pseudo-carapace that made up her palms.
Zenata had always been…passionate, even before she had become Lovelace. It was the way of Chaos, of course, but the former assassin had always taken it a step further, something that was reflected in the variety of names she'd chosen throughout her life.
"I already miss him…"
The General…was a frankly obsessive romantic, to the point that most of her conquests simply couldn't handle the pressure, and inevitably broke down in the face of her endless passion. In the face of that, Armageddon hadn't expected a human to last all that long, honestly.
"I know."
But Knightmare's method of countering it had been…fascinating. Enough that even the Lord of the Legion had been convinced to place down a small bet into the ever growing pool of skullcoins, if only because he didn't really have the time to indulge in other hobbies, busy as he was running his merry band of survivors.
"And his big manly muscles…"
"I'm sure Knightmare and his big manly muscles are doing just fine, Lovelace."
"Myeah…"
It was the barest hint of a dream that he entertained every now and again. Beaches. Coconuts. Custom triple-eye sunglasses. One of those funny patterned shirts from Iawah.
He'd had plans in regards to his latest General possibly stepping in to finally give him a break, but with the man imprisoned…well, that dream seemed further away than ever now. Unfortunate. Just another thing to be annoyed at those damnable Wardens for. Many puppies and kittens would pay for this, oh yes.
But first, comforting his overly emotional subordinate.
"Well…let's just hope the jailers aren't being too rough with him, he's only human after all."
"OH NO! THEY'RE PROBABLY BEING MEAN TO HIM FOR TURNING TRAITOR!"
…Oh right, he was bad at comforting people. Damn.
—
"Why are you doing this!? Who are you!?"
I'd be a liar if I said I wasn't having some amount of fun in my stolen suit. Mostly because good heavens, it felt great to be enclosed in armour again, even if it wasn't painted in Gamma colours just yet.
"If you had all just surrendered when I'd told you to, this wouldn't be happening. Just keep that in mind."
Even if the people here weren't the faceless goons I'd initially expected.
"Meera, you go left! I'll head right! Everyone else scatter! Only one of us needs to get past him to hit the alarm!"
Not at all like the Guards outside, really. Though that made sense, everyone wearing combat gear was kind of pointless if you weren't going to see combat. A logical decision that I was certain the people here were currently regretting immensely.
"Help will not be coming."
Oh, they had the uniforms, sure. But not the cuirasses, nor the batons, or even the visored helmets. These were likely noncombatants, in truth. Technical support, perhaps, given the location we were in.
"No, no wait PLEA-"
The spectacle wearing man could do little but desperately scream as I grabbed hold of his ankle, the wiry fellow's grip on the nearby monitor he'd been trying to reach past to get at a prominent red button failing instantly in the face of my technologically enhanced strength.
"I told you not to run, boy."
With an almost idle twist, I sent him flying into a woman that had been trying to creep towards the exit of the communications and control center I'd forced my way inside, sending both sprawling to the ground.
Around me, the groans and cries for help from various other figures currently writhing on the ground in pain served as excellent accompaniment to my words, even as I extended an awaiting hand.
"There is no escape. Only defeat. Combat stance: Dark Dampener."
With a flash of darkness, my lance manifested within my grip, before a quick pair of blasts impacted the duo, sapping their strength and leaving them both alive, but unconscious. A convenience that I found myself smiling at.
Sure, my original suit was trashed, but at least the trans-dimensional summoning implant the Legion had gifted me still worked for my other equipment. I'd need to make sure to thank the one who had installed it for me, once I broke him out at least.
"You face a superior foe, jailers. It is not cowardice to know when you have lost. Kneel, and accept a peaceful rest. You need not experience the sight of your failure."
For the next few moments, more blasts flew through the room as I went over those I had downed. To their credit, very few of them went out willingly, even if their resistance amounted to very little, in the end.
"Take this you bastaaard-!"
It was in the midst of knocking out another woman that I extended my free hand, fingers locking around the throat of a particularly brave idiot who had been rushing me with a keyboard of all things.
"Go to sleep. I'll handle things from here."
His choking gasps lasted long enough for me to flood his coworker's system with null energy, before tapping the tip of my lance against his thigh, sending a similar burst through him as well.
Tossing the now limp obstacle aside, I turned to take one final glance at my handiwork.
A dozen men and women, blissfully unconscious. Something I knew would last for at least the next two hours, if not longer depending on their health. And more importantly, a completely unsecured CnC center with no one left to run it.
Of course there were a few battered Guards in the hallway leading to the place as well. My flight from the armoury hadn't gone unnoticed, clanking footsteps leading to me running into four of the unlucky officers hanging around a water cooler of all things, and I simply hadn't been in the mood for explaining just why I was walking around in riot gear when there were no alarms ringing.
Or my identity, for that matter.
Knocking them out had been fun, but it meant I'd been on a time limit until someone found them. One I was still on now, albeit slightly alleviated by the fact that calls for help wouldn't be getting answered anytime soon…
Chuckling to myself at the thought, I turned my lance to begin indiscriminately blasting apart the various computers around me, before pausing, a contemplative hum escaping the confines of my golden helmet.
"Hm...sure, why not?"
Seemed like it was finally time to see if that IT course I'd taken in my past life was actually worth doing...