Great is Our Sin

Series 4: Beyond the Haven

6 months have passed since the 80th annual fight night across the ATLAS Havens. In those 6 months however, concerning reports of a terrorist organisation called "Hades" has arisen, led by disgraced Site Control member Jackie Lorenzo who stands accused of murdering four Jackboots in cold blood. Now to uproot this organisation before it can even become a threat, two of ATLAS' controversial Synthetics are dispatched to assassinate the organisations leader, but the new Synthetic Bolt, begins to have his doubts.

1: Dispatch

Despite the deafening roar of engines that could be heard for miles out, inside the Charon, the monstrous quad engines were but a soft hum inside of its dimly lit hull. With no human occupants inside of the compartment, all that was needed to illuminate it was a single red light. Despite this however, the hull was still occupied by two Synthetics, V1's to be specific. These hulking behemoths stood at just over eight foot tall, their bodies seemingly made of woven steel cables that made up their armoured husks hiding their vital insides. The steel itself was still its typically grey but the elbows, knees and fingertips appeared black by the under carapace being visible. Their faces were a failed attempt to make them appear human, eyes made of camera lenses to allow for night vision, infra-red and Apex Sight whilst in place of a mouth was a thick box used to communicate the words of the behemoths out, two tubes following into their throats presumably filled with cables. The two that sat in the Charon wore separate clothing each other. One was fully clad in jungle camo, if it weren't for their height and visible face they could be mistaken for a human, indicating this beast belonged to the Jungle Recon Division whilst the other simply wore an open vest of sorts, tanned and tattered, a marking on its right chest indicating who it belonged to. It belonged to the Jungle Recons Sharpshooter Division but more specifically as its chest told, its puppeteers was truly the Intelligence Agency. They both sat in complete silent, staring into each other's eyes as though they were puppets waiting for strings to be pulled.
"Good afternoon Bolt and Smudge."
"Afternoon ma'am" both of them responded in their own voices, despite being the same design each had their own distinctive voice.
"Your objective is to locate and eliminate Hades terrorist organisation leader Jackie Lorenzo. You'll be dropped five miles from her suspected location in order to not arouse any suspicion. Eliminate and exfil, simple." The handlers voice strangely enough felt colder and more monotone than the machines that resided inside of the Charon.
"Question Handler" Bolt, the one clad in the open vest, sat upright, metal joints creaking as the newly constructed Synthetic was on his first deployment
"We don't do questions Bolt, all the data will be streamed to you."
"Alright I just wanted to ask how many there will be"
"As I just told you, all the data will be streamed to you"
"Understood" he leant back again, Smudge giving him a wide eyed glare, clearly meant to suggest that he should remain quiet, being far more experienced than Bolt he knew that it was considered ill manners to question the handlers. Mere moments after the Handler began to speak a shout came from the cockpit, telling the Synthetics to ready as they both rose from their seat, a bay door opening beneath them as a green light replaced the old red one, doing little to illuminate the dense jungle abyss beneath them as the thunderous footsteps brought both the monsters to the edge of the newly formed gate to the nightly forest below.
"Happy hunting."
With a single step, the two descended right into the jungle below, their metallic bodies pulling them down through the dense foliage, tree branches being pushed apart for them before a loud thud echoed throughout the forest, imprints left in the dirt as servos and mechanical components whined and strained as the behemoths stood upright in the forest, Bolt holding a large rifle whilst Smudge carried with him what appeared to be a machine gun of sorts, one featuring a long barrel and revolving ammo chamber.
"Intel reports a Hades camp not far from here. We interrogate and eliminate, understood?" Smudge quickly took charge of the duo, being the senior in this situation it was only understandable. He didn't wait for a reply from Bolt as he began to thunder off in what was considered a light jog but for many was more akin to a sprint.
"Could of at least waited" and with that, Bolt slung his rifle over his back and began to catch up to Smudge, footstep after footstep thundering through the forest and the chirping and shrieking of beasts echoed all around them. It was only a few minutes until they arrived near the camp, taking very little time to navigate through the dense foliage and forest as a built in GPS allowed them to navigate using the very few satellites still in space. With the camp in sight, Smudge extends his arm to keep Bolt back, the cold steel firmly holding back the far more eager machine. In front of the two, peering through the black void of the night and shrouded by dense overgrown foliage was a small camp, lit only by a handful of lanterns and a campfire. Roughly four tents formed a half crescent around the only source of warmth.
"You'd expect them to have more defences considering how hellish it is outside of the Havens"
Smudge didn't entertain the useless chatter of Bolt and kept his eyes front, the optical lenses expanding as his sight changed. With a mix of Night Vision and Apex Vision, the entire night became far more clear as trees, tents and people became visible, a green line highlighting their figure to make it far easier to perceive them.
"Six visible, may be more in the tents."
"So what's the plan then Sergeant?"
"Terrorise, eliminate, interrogate."
Bolt slowly began to shuffle down onto his torso, his dense metallic body displacing the dirt beneath him as the barrel of his rifle began to find itself aiming towards the unknowing souls of the camp. Three words was all Synthetics needed to know their directive. Terrorise, strike hard and fast, instil fear and unnerve the enemy. Eliminate, usually this command is simple. Kill everyone who poses a threat but interrogate meant this directive was different. Leave a handful alive, three usually being ideal especially if a Synthetic of the Intelligence Agency was doing the interrogation. With a crack of a branch, Smudge was off. Despite the wide arsenal of weaponry accessible, Smudge carried with him two more simple weapons. Strapped to his thigh was a large revolver of sorts, featuring three magazines that revolve with each shot, the magazines combining together to offer nine shots of high calibre ammunition. In his hand however was a far more simple device, a large sledge hammer, one side of the head flat and the other studded with spikes. Like a phantom in the night, Smudges' hammer found itself colliding into the skull of the first man he saw. In a violent and gory display, the skull was shattered and seemingly exploded into a sludge that coated the clothing of Smudge as in a bid to stop his momentum, he found himself sliding across the fire pit, snuffing the main source of light. Panic set amongst the camp as three others emerged from tents, creating a combined total of nine terrorists, all bearing the mark of Hades. Two shots rang out, one a shotgun shell fired from a primitive pipe barrel that harmlessly sent pellets bouncing off the chest of the mechanised nightmare whilst the second came from within the foliage, a bullet that could punch through armour finding itself tearing apart the heart of an unlucky soul before leaving a gaping maw for a heart. The following few seconds were a blood bath, bullets ringing out, either failing to scratch their mark or turning it into a bloody mess whilst people were reduced to puddles of broken bones and gore, leaving behind two, one who's legs had been crushed under the weight of the gore soaked hammer whilst the second found themselves cupping a wound that had pierced their legs artery. Slowly from the foliage, Bolt emerged. With the shadows behind him it appeared as though death itself had emerged, iron feet trading along misplaced organs and pools of blood whilst Smudge stood there silent. Despite doing most of the hard work and being covered in organs and blood, he remained a silent pillar of violence, letting the member of the Intelligence Agency get what they needed. Bolt threw aside his rifle for a moment in favour for an ice pickaxe, slowly crouching down to the first damned soul who gripped at their bleeding leg. The poor man could do nothing but stare as Bolt crouched down next to him, staring with soulless eyes and speaking with a crackling voice box.
"Where is Jackie Lorenzo?"
"I-I don't know where she is!"
Bolt looked up to Smudge for a second as the veteran spoke "Voice analysis says he's telling the truth" and with those simple words, the sharp end of the ice pickaxe found itself deep within the eye socket of the man, ending his existence before Bolt rose again, striding over to the remaining man and crouching down next to him. This one despite his missing legs, had significantly more resolve in his face, staring at the machine with grit.
"Where is Jackie Lorenzo."
The man slowly leaned up, opening his mouth to speak before spitting at the machine "fuck you."
Bolt didn't even wipe the saliva from his face before grabbing the man by the throat and throwing his head down into the bloody quagmire of mud and gore. "Tell me where she is."
"Fuck you!"
With a crack in the air, the hammer was brought down again, smashing into the mans hand and reducing it to a hand shaped imprint of blood. Cries of agony fell on deaf, unliving ears.
"Where is she."
The man remained silent, holding back tears of pain that were let loose as his elbow and below was struck again by the hammer of agony.
"Where is she."
"O-old mall... by the old Disciple Colony in t-the City Wasteland."
"Thank you for your co-operation" before Bolt went to stand he struck the man once with his fist, the strike being firm enough to cave in the front of his face, leaving him but minutes away from death. Slowly the monster rose, joints creaking as he picked up his rifle. "We got a location."
Smudge, being his usual talkative self, simply began to walk off in the direction to the mall, leaving Bolt behind to stare at the camp and carnage. Something about it all felt familiar and if his creators gave him a mouth, a crooked smile would form over it. He knew this was his life of immense violence and he couldn't help but feel pity for the useless pieces of meat that stood in his way.