Darkness of the Soul

NEST vs MECH

A thick blanket of darkness had descended over the forest. It was a new moon tonight, and a blanket of clouds had rolled in. Sometimes the rustling of leave and the creaking of wood if there was a strong enough wind.

The agent was grateful he didn't spook easily, or else he would have disliked being sent out here. Or rather, dislike it even more. He hated sentry duty.

This far from civilization, they hardly had to worry about visitors, save for the occasional camper or hunter. They usually were easily turned away, and if they weren't gullible, money or a gun to the face always did the trick. The agent doubted there would be visitors tonight, and it made him all the more bored. Not even his fellow sentry seemed to offer much company.

The man paced back and forth, trying to fight off the unconscious tugging at his mind. He remembered what happened to the last poor sod that fell asleep on the job. He didn't want the same happening to him. So caught up in his struggle, he almost didn't hear it. And when he did, he thought he was imagining it.

It was a distant, buzzing noise, that became louder and louder until a steady purr came from the forest. He squinted in confusion and exchanged uncertain glances with his partner, who just shifted his weight. The agent blinked, and then he saw it.

A white, fluorescent light shone forth from the dirt road like a shining beacon. Coming closer, along with the purring sound. Squinting through the darkness and the glare of the light, he realized what it was. A motorcycle, with a slender rider in leather in the saddle. The sight made him all the more confused.

What was a bike like that doing all the way out here? It was probably some kid joyriding in the backwoods. He raised his voice over the purr of the engine. The driver did not respond. He shouted again. The flashy motorcycle continued to speed forward.

The agent gritted his teeth and reached for the pistol strapped to his side. They had orders not to use force unless absolutely necessary, but maybe a more distinct sound would get the driver's attention. He raised the gun and his finger slipped to the trigger, braced to squeeze.

Then the driver vanished.

The agent flinched back, his eyebrows meeting his hairline. What the—

Suddenly the motorcycle changed shape. There was a distinct sound of shifting gears as plating moved aside and wires rearranged. Limbs shot out and bright headlights were replaced by brilliant blue eyes. The pair of sentries only stared at the robot, jaws dropped open, stood frozen as it lunged towards them. Suddenly razor-sharp blades ejected from its arms, coming inches from the agent's face. He yelped and stumbled back so rapidly he tripped on his own feet, falling onto his back.

"Stay down!" the robot barked, its low voice owning a metallic twang.

The men didn't have to be told twice, raising their hands above their heads as the former motorcycle glared down at them. They were so distracted by its menacing shadow, they hardly heard another sound, this one a monstrous roar of a truck.

A bright red and blue semi pulled up behind the robot, coming to a halt with a high-pitched squeal of tires. Behind it was a bright yellow Camaro with an army-green Humvee by its side. Then there was a line of more Humvees just like it, except each one had a turret. Manned by a stern-faced soldier in fatigues and body armor. The military convoy came to a pause behind the semi truck.

The passenger door swung open, revealing another soldier climbing out. The agent could automatically tell this was the commander, simply how he held his head high and crossed over to them in a controlled stride.