Double Or Nothing: A Coin Flip Away

Wrench Being a Goofball

Soldiers swarmed the emptied streets surrounding The Big House, guns raised and loaded for any traitors or enemies. As the red suited, rabbit-masked gangster guards filled the gold and green terrace in card-adorned reds and blacks, the sergeant of the group fastened a fresh magazine into their firearm, a behemoth of a silencer barrel strapped to his weapon. Removing the umbrella toothpick of a drink from his teeth, the sergeant lifted a radio to his goggled face. "Gunfire was sighted on this terrace, boys. Keep your eyes peeled for The Sin Hunter and his goons, Mammon's orders." The sergeant dropped his radio, raising his weapon to the streets.

The streets of Greed had seldom been so void of life. Shops and restaurants, once glowing with radiant light that bathed the streets in fluorescent color, now dark against the smoky green night sky. The only lights in all of the emerald sector of Hell pierced the night from The Big House. Amidst a terroristic apocalypse, the concept of capitalism and corruption held an ironically strong grip on Hell. With floodlights sweeping over the city streets for terrorists and threats from the outside world, Greed had warped from a shining beacon of flashy lights and stunning jewelry to a desolate fortress, a capital with no captain, a kingdom without a king.

A loud explosion echoed through the buildings. One guard at the terrace, positioned on a ledge of trimmed hedges, collapsed with their head popped open. The terrace erupted with gunfire and explosions as The Big House security popped like balloons of red food coloring. The sergeant threw himself down behind a ledge full of bushes and fountains, shouting into his radio for the remaining guards. "Somebody find that bastard and plug him NOW!!" Gunfire screamed over the terrace, targeting every building and window in range of The Big House plaza. Amid broken glass and stone, however, no one could locate the source of the shooting.

Down a street corner away from his mounted turrets, Wrench laughed and laughed to himself, using a rifle scope screwed into his palm to gun down any exposed security guards. In the time he had spent moving from building to building, the Nazi Engineer had jerry rigged mounted turrets in every high rise top floor, surrounding The Big House with cover fire. In truth, Wrench had no designated purpose for this cover fire; it was something to kill time with, and as long as The Sin Hunter had a clear entrance from the Living World back into Hell, he could do whatever it took to buy his allies time.

Wrench stepped off of the window sill, lowering the steaming red barrel of his rifle arm. Volts of electricity crackled through his fingertips, signaling for Wrench to inspect repairs. But the mechanical Sinner scoffed, disconnecting the rifle barrel to throw across the room. "Pah! Time for zhe next phase of zhis glorious siege." Wrench moved toward a large wooden crate in the corner of his perch, ripping open the box while gunfire and dying security guard's screams drifted through Greed's alleyways. Wrench tossed parts for rifles, shotguns and even a gatling cannon out behind him. "I'm not looking for size, I'm looking for obscurity."

Breaking the silence came the loading of a pistol in Wrench's organic hand. Wrench's pearly silver eye locked on the pistol, analyzing the components of the small firearm. "Jah, zhis vill do nicely," he sighed, removing the outer shell and magazine of the pistol. Strapping the outside of the shell not his arm for extra plating, Wrench's mechanical hand snapped open, rearranging itself to fit the barrel of the pistol in his open palm and the magazine in a glowing gold port on the side of his wrist. With his gun arm assembled, Wrench hefted his black steel joints, spinning his mechanical arm around. "My own genius scares me sometimes," he smirked.

Returning to the window, Wrench blinked through blinding spotlights, ducking back behind a curtain beside the window ledge. The Big House had directed their spotlights into searchlights, flooding the building interiors with exposure to their threats. Wrench snarled, loading a new magazine into a slot in his arm. Fastening the strap of a black bag over his arm, Wrench turned his attention to the sky above Greed. Dark, thunderous clouds rolled into view, resting on the horizon.

The searchlights of The Big House, through Wrench's turret's cover fire, became diffracted with piercing pelts of acidic rain. Wrench tilted his cap to the floor, his mechanical silver eye whirring with thousands of possibilities. "Zhis creates quite zhe opening for Shrap and zhe rest to break through Mammon's security. No guards in the terrace with the acid rain, everything is forced indoors," Wrench grinned, fashioning a large steel shield from a plate of scrap in the corner of the room, "leaving us free range of zhe great outdoors." Wrench snarled, twisting to face the window with his shield raised. Glass shattered against the steel shield.

Flinging out through the window, Wrench slammed on his shoulder, somersaulting off of his shield into a sprint. Acid rain hammered against his shield as the Nazi Engineer dashed for a closing door into The Big House. Before the door could close, Wrench slung the steel plate at the door, stopping it from closing with a click. As acid rain tore through his suit and burnt his flesh, Wrench bit his mechanical jaw with full force, throwing himself and his sparking circuitry through the door. Rolling into a stance with his pistol raised, Wrench capped three unsuspecting guards, sheathing his weapon.

As thunder shook the building, in the darkness of the casino loading bay, Wrench's welding arm clicked with a burst of golden light. In its flame, Wrench's silver eye shone bright. "I must return to Lucifer's. Zhe parts I require for my masterpiece vill be zhere. However," Wrench contemplated, glancing down the hallway with the whirring of his self repair protocols buzzing in his ear, "zhere must be a vay to zhe mansion from zhis establishment. I vill find it."