//------------------------------// // At Odds // Story: A Cybernetic Life // by AxtontheMechanist //------------------------------// Gryffonian Holding Cell.... 9:30 AM, Zero's Cell Zero's Pov.... My systems came online to pitch-black darkness, the kind of darkness you could find in a blacked out solitary confinement cell, or the kind of darkness that happens in an over-the-top horror movie. Never liked horror movies; way too predictable (for once, it'd be nice to have a villain in a horror movie that likes the nice things. Like cups of tea, or flower arranging. Yet despite the fact that this place was pitch black, I could tell it was well kept from the fact that my base sensors couldn't pick up any dirt, feces or generally harmful bacteria (not that any of could harm me, me being a robot and all that. A really, really sexy- ahem. Moving on.) But the thing that disturbed me the most was the fact that I couldn't access any of my more advanced programs, like my Plasma Cannon or Traction Control and Speed Inhibitors on my feet.. or my home video collection! Those bastards stopped from seeing that smoking V-79! ...On to more important things. Not a word of this to anybody else. As I looked around my rather dank and rather smooth cell, I was interrupted by light suddenly flooding the area. Considering most my physical and technical capabilities, I was unable to break out sooner or reboot fast enough to gather up plan; blocking the light stood one of the black-cloaked baddies from earlier. More specifically, the same one that had attached the device to me that stopped me fighting. But that didn't make sense! They don't have that kind of technology here! The man in question strode up to me, a smug look on his ugly mug; he seemed to be aging, probably in his forties if my analysis that I took the second I saw him was correct. He grinned, leaning down to me with his garlic scented (by what my scent detectors could tell; any other things like advanced diagnostics and advanced scanning, as well as physical strength (to a certain point) were down) breath. " 'Ello there, tin can!" He chuckled a wheezy laugh "I'm Grubbly, your gaoler and the cause of your capture. Your dumb tin head got that? Good. I'm here to take you out into the arena, sharpish. But first, 'd boss wants t' parade ya out in front of the populace. Tell 'em that the great Metal Warrior's been done in. Defeated." He burst into a coughing fit, from laughing his tobacco smoke ridden lungs off. I kept my face neutral, not taking the bait as he undid my shackles from the walls, hoisting me up and forcing me to get out the cell; not having much strength meant that I had to stumble around on my sleek legs awkwardly as my systems try to route power to them. As soon as I am outside the cell, they placed what looked like some sort of stockade holding onto my shoulders, a metal bar that secured my chrome hands in an extremely uncomfortable position above my plated shoulders; the weight of the thing, considering that I had little to no strength in me at the moment, made me go onto one knee as I struggled to get back up. Two of the guardsmen (still hate guards, by the way. Most of them are assholes; at least the cliché ones are) hoisted me up as Grubbly shoved me forward to follow a shinier looking Gryfonnian, who nodded to me curtly. "This way, Zero." He stated to me imperiously as he marched off with me stumbling in tow, a platoon of inferior guards lumbering behind me, weapons ready at any time; the device that had sapped me earlier seemed to have a long lasting effect. Unless someone reversed those effects, I guessed that it would at least be a couple of hours before I could fight normally again, with limitations on speed. Hell, at least this guard had manners; at least more than the rest of the ones I've met so far. Black-Cloaked bastards. After leading me through a series of tunnels and up a ramp, sunlight greets me; the glaring brightness means that it took a few seconds for me to adjust my ocular sight lenses. This caused one of the guards to shove his hobnailed boots into my back, denting it (having no defenses online, like shields and impact protection measures meant that I was basically, at the time, a walking husk of myself in terms of abilities); stumbling forward slightly as I continued on following the brightly armored Gryphon guard in front of me, I could see the faces of those passing by, as well as those peering out of windows down at me. Multitudes of people were murmuring, parting before the small group of guards that were escorting me toward what looked like an arena; although many faces in the crowd looked like they had lost hope, they were crowding around me and the other guards, following us and looking over other crowd members to see what was going on. I was marched toward the arena, being given the occasional shove or push from one the the guards flanking me from behind and on my left and right. Said arena stood tall and proud, made of a variety of stone, looming over us like a stoic, stony face giant; it blocked out most the sunlight, creating a shadow that loomed even further than itself, casting a fair few houses into shadow. As the guards pushed through the clamoring crowd, with me and my quite dented and scratched silvery body in tow, we were led into the arena, guards unshackling me as they shoved me through a barred and into the harsh and boiling hot sands of the arena; people of all races (but mainly Gryphons) were beginning to file into the stands and seats that surrounded the main fighting zone. Seated in a rather lasciviously decorated, was the King of Gryphons, along with the Prince and a rather slimy looking associate; the Prince, despite being a seemingly good person, obviously wanted nothing to do with this; yet the King seemed to have some sort of emerald green amulet on, his eyes holding the same tint as his jewelry as his the slimy looking man with murky blue eyes and raven black hair, with scaled gauntlets on, walked forward. "I, Counselor Torindal, announce this... thing, a traitor to the mighty and illustrious empire of Gryffonia! He is hereby to blame for the war between the Gryphons and the Equestrians! For this, he is sentenced to death in the arena, against the might Gorundicus, king of the giants!!!" And with that, the Counselor gave me the darkest grin I had ever seen.... something told me this wasn't gonna be easy. My fears were confirmed when a heavy rumbling sound was heard, followed by a roar so loud it shook the very foundations of the arena itself.