II. Gods and Monsters

Regroup

A great form crashed through the trees before being halted by the ground beneath it. Its sudden escape had not left time for a smooth landing. The ground in which it now lay simmered with the heat emanating from its occupant, the metal plates ground against each other as it attempted to lift itself out of the pit it had created.

"Dude! That was awesome!"

A young man with long, scraggly hair ran out into the newly made clearing. His clothes hung off his lanky frame and his eyes showed that he had definitely taken something recently. He tried to focus on the glowing metal standing in front of him.

"Cool armour bro, where did you get that? Did you make it yourself or..."

"SILENCE!" came a growling voice.

"Hey, no need to be so rude bro!"

A low, animalistic growling, like that of an aggravated tiger, emanated from the towering figure stood before him.

"Dude, that doesn't look healthy, your complexion's really bright. And you're a bit hot!"

His eyes widened in shock as something was raised towards him and a burst of blue light turned his body to ash.

"Filth, guilty of poisoning the body which the lord so lovingly crafted for you. You humans don't deserve to live."

Metatron rose from the crater he had made, his right arm clicking, whirring and folding in on itself until it returned to its normal arm shape. He reached up, crushed his damaged faceplate and threw it aside. Twin, glowing eyes scanned his surroundings, trying to find some sign of where he could be. He raised his palm till it faced vertically upward, splaying his hand at elbow height and spoke:

"Lilian, where am I?"

A holographic projection of a bald woman's head appeared in Metatron's palm. The face was very plain, with a pale blue colour to it. The eyes had no detail at all. The face gave an attempt at a smile.

"You're in the South Florida Rocklands. You've travelled a fair distance Metatron," a synthesised, female voice spoke from his palm. Again, nothing extravagant, just slightly tinny.

A low rumble emitted from Metatron as he processed this information.

"Update the link with on-high. Inform them that I have identified the two targets and shall gather as much information as possible before engaging."

"Of course. Anything else?"

"Yes, search for an adequate area for synchronisation."

"At once Metatron."

The blue form faded away as Metatron raised his hand to his right eye. Those explosive devices had come a long way since Metatron had last encountered them, a problem which he would now need to tackle. The only way to do that would be to find every drop of information he could on this world's current weapon capabilities. To synchronise.

But before any of that could be accomplished, repairs would have to be made. He had noticed a degradation in the image from his right eye and a new visor was essential.

After checking all his motor functions were still fully operational (a simple set of movements for each limb sufficed in this situation), Metatron advanced in the direction he assumed the human had come from. He had observed that those primitive automobiles that had surfaced during the 1900s had improved by a long way, judging those used by the authorities he had encountered. Their numbers seemed to have increased also. His assumption that the human would also own such a vehicle proved correct. It was orange, streamlined, and nothing like the clattering boxes from the previous century. Further observation showed its shell was manufactured from a fibrous, carbon-based material. Impressive as this may have been, the shell was of no use to him. Metatron reached out to the front of the car and tried to pry off the cover which he assumed hid the engine. A high pitched squealing noise erupted from the car, surprising him. He clenched, then reopened his left hand, electromagnetic energy now running through his fingers. Placing them on the vehicle once more, the current discharged throughout its circuitry, de-powering the alarm, as well as the rest of the vehicle. His hands made short work of the shell, tearing it apart as if it was paper to reveal the metal beneath. Metatron surveyed this skeleton for a long time, eventually coming to the conclusion that the electrics and metal would suffice to manufacture his new parts. He raised both hands towards the metal and circuitry, muttering in a language long forgotten and making intricate gestures in the air. The framework levitated upwards, slowly disassembling itself. The metal components started to run, taking on a liquid form as Metatron altered its molecular structure. Only the metal of Heaven itself would suffice, and since there was none on Earth, he would create his own. This process carried on for minutes as the metal began to shine like Metatron's armour. Suddenly, he abandoned the complicated patterns and clapped his hands together. The new metal and wiring wove around each other, before separating into two distinct clumps. One clump became a thin sheet of metal, while the other formed part of a cranial unit, with matching eye-piece. Once fully assembled, these two components floated gently into Metatron's waiting hands.

Now came the difficult part.

Metatron knelt down, placing his new components at his feet. He closed his cybernetic eyes and raised a compact device from his belt. Seconds later, a small flame was sitting nicely at the muzzle of this box. Metatron braced himself, then pointed the flame at his own head. The electronic screaming could be heard echoing through the forest as Metatron cut through his cranial unit, tearing out the damaged electronics before dropping onto all fours. The pain was excruciating, such repairs were not done willingly. Metatron finally placed the new section of the cranial unit into place, the residual magic weaving the fresher components with the older ones. Mere seconds later, you couldn't discern the old from the new.
After taking the time to recover from the ordeal, Metatron retrieved his new faceplate and slotted it into place. A hiss and a click confirmed it was integrated with the rest of the armour. The HUD hummed into life and beeped as it ran its first diagnostics. A small icon in the bottom left indicated that Lilian had located his next target. A mental command from Metatron located this on a map, causing him to frown at the distance he would need to travel.

"Lilian, prepare the gateway," Metatron commanded, "I want to be right next to the target when I arrive,"

The air began to hum with electricity. It crackled over Metatron's outer shell, lighting up the area around him as it arced outwards. Then WHUMP, Metatron vanished.