AAGHHRK!! RAAGH AACK!!

A cacophony of whispers echoed near the race tracks Sparkbit was near. It sounded eerily familiar like Flash Vector, calling out for help as if to lure grab him and run away from a 'horde' of zombots. Sparkbit can come and help Flash Vector or run.

( - @f1-invisk8r // Zombie Apocalypse Event )

Flash?

he called out looking for his older brother but keeping a safe distance

It called out once more. Somewhere in the race tracks. You could see some sort of figure, but it looks... off? If you squint hard enough, It has an odd amount of arms, a larger framework, but still Flash Vector shaped from a distance.

He approached closer, a chitter chattering-like noise coming from his broke voicebox. It seems to translate to "B̵̤͈̟̤͍̼̥͈͈͖͔͙͚͓̰͇͖̄̓̔r̷̮̬̮̟̦̟̪̪͎͉͓̥̞̣̖̯̯̎̇̑̑̀̆͛̕͠͝ơ̶̟̺̭̬̅̿͒͒̽͒̕t̶̮̖͐͐̕h̷̢̳̖͂̆͒̔̿͑̓̋̆̏̍̈͊̎̚͠͝͝è̶͈͚̺̘̯̫͉̼͈̂̈́́͛̅̚͘͜r̶͉͚̉̀̊͘̚".

With every janky step, a new chattering sound attempts to voice out. Part of his faceplate was torn, the tips of his digits melted and welded into a sharp-like edge. It looks almost.. painful to watch the skater struggle.

His processor struggled to determine if Sparkbit was a threat or an ally, but one thing was for sure: To some parts of Flash Vector, Sparkbit looks just as good as a meal to recover the missing oil from the previous encounter. His other half however struggled and clashed with the thought of targeting his own brother.

He stalked closer.

and closer.

Finding Sparkbit's approximate location through the soundwaves, he started to run — no, sprint with all his stamina. Just like before, he was relatively quicker given that he used his skates mid-way to catch up.

" Ĉ̸̳̬͎̥̽̄̊͑̚o̶̢̨̡̰͍̝͖͖̻̹̞͋̓ḿ̸̧̛̤͙̜̫͈̞̹̱̖͆͛̅̒̕̕͝e̵̡̨͕͙̫͖̩̜̞̞͖͙̊̄͂͐̅̉̆̒̈̐̉̔͗̿͠ͅ ̴̛̟̙̥̫̤̐́̏͗͑̒̆͛̋̊̇͘͠b̸̢̧͕̜͇͔̩̘͚̠̽̍̀͑́̾̚͝a̸̞͙̹̩̘̮̮͊͒̍̏̈́̔̈͊͛͛̂͋͠͝ç̴̨̢͎͓̗̳̹͑̊̚ͅḵ̸̩̤͚̭̽͌̌͐̇̈́̓́̈́͋̓̏͝ͅ,̵̠͍͙͉̙̣̩̻̪͉̻̙̙̆̊̓̽͌̄̅͝ ̶̛̫́͑̽̓̈́͠Į̴̡͈̖̪̦͎͉̺̥̬̠̮̾̆̏̀ ̴̦̖̪͓̼͇̽͌̑̇͌̈̚͝j̷̧̢̛̯̳̘̲͍͉̰̩̼͕̫̖̼͋͌̓͆̍͝u̷͔̘͔̰̒ͅs̶̨̍̊͊ͅt̶̨̨̳̺̩̟̜̻̦͙̪̱͍͉̑̿͊͆̈́͑̋̆̊͌̍̈́̄͘͝ ̸̡͕̮͍͍͓̝̦͙́́̓͑̀̈́͐͊̒ͅw̵̡͕̦̘̞̪͚͕̜̘̥͕̪͕̾́̅͊̑̒́͐̽̾͠͝͝͝ȧ̸̧̺̺͉͓̝͙̮̪̝̞̙̣̀͋̏͒͜͝͠͝͝n̸̨̛͍̹̘̭̦̋͒͂̓̔̇̚͠͝ṱ̷̡̹̪̲̥̣̺̦͔̈͗̏̌͠͠ ̵̧̣̲̘̻̬̼̝̰̟̰͇̻̘͈͐̍t̷̢̧̨̡̧̛̘̖̻͍̻̖̥̯͕̮̔̿̐̈́̾͋̀̒̾̂̓͠ơ̶̢̲̠̬̟̖͍̯̗̟̼̺͎̹̋̃̿̎̕͜ ̸̜̈́̋̆̄̚t̸̡͕͎̃̂̑̅̄̈̂́̈́͘̚a̸̧̟͎͔̯̔̽̇̏̃̈́̈́͜͠ͅͅļ̴̛̞͉̣̺̍͐̌̎́͋̐̄k̵̢̫̗͗̋̈́̅̀͋̀̓̄͆́̾͊́͝.̵̛͔̰̻̖̱͒̔̿̅̈́̍͊̕͝! „

The oil oozed into his mouth, a rabid purr emitting from his own chassis as he licked the oil clean from the injury. The claws kept Sparkbit down, most likely paralyzed and unable to move until he drained every bit of oil from the bot.

"Excellent work. That pessssst was starting to annoy The Motherboard. Come, let us drag his lifeless body to her so he can become one with ussss."

It dug a claw into Sparkbit's leg and dragged his limp frame down the street.

His own.

Brother.

He just.

K

I

L

L

E

D

.

A dull part of his slowly rotting core ached dully at the thought, as if some parts of his cardbot-like mannerisms still remains. After a bit of struggling with the annoying static mixed with his voicebox, he made a chatter-like response in their native language. Ṅ̸͇̤͓͚͊̕à̴͈͉͇t̸̼̄ī̴̡̭̖̮̇̕v̵̠̈̇ę̵̳̩̗͒̽̄̀ͅ?̶̛̣̦͍̮̰̑̋̈͗̑

The Brawler gushed on an on about The Motherboard. The praise never seemed to cease.

He repeated. It has a slight twinge to it, a sweet, comforting thought. M̷͓͍̿̀̍̑̍ơ̶̩̻̬̟̻̮͐̂̐̎t̴̡͔͕͎̒̓h̷̭̩͖̪̲́͑e̷̟̼̞̯̝̱̊͒̋͘r̵̮̰̆́́̄̈́̚b̵͎̾̊̏̀̿̚ò̴̹̱̆̐̈̅ä̸̺̻̮͍̲̇̓̕r̵̳͇̭̜͈̈̍͗̀̀d̷̫̀̈́.̵̞̖͉̎ Becoming her vessel. Becoming someone else for her. Their savior.

H̵̦̊̃́̔i̷̡̜̟̲̪̮͉̳̬̹̱͕͇̤̾̏̄̎̍͆̐͝s̷͍͓͇͚̱͉͈̖̞̱̍̕ ̷̫̅͋͗̌̾̇̽̊̋̈͑̌s̴͖̰̯̲̘̘̻̤͔̟̎̈́̆̐ả̸̛̞͉͕̭̿̓̆͛͆̄v̸̢̘̘̠̻͇̙̳͎̗͖̘͇͋̓̚̚͠i̸̡͕̬̲͎̹̯̿̀̓̂͗̾̔̆͐̈̀͜ọ̷̡̨̨̡̧̢͇̰̤̯̤̲̱́̃̔̓̿͆͛̀̈́͆̋̆̉͌ͅr̸̮̰̥̥͕͍̤͔͓̿.

He chose to not speak, his voicebox aching and sparking horribly from the amount of power he has to use to lure in Sparkbit. Not to mention, what little remains of himself is still doubtful about the whole ordeal despite the fuzziness and the v̶̢̢̨̨͕̙̼͍̥͕̜͎̻̞̽́̆̃͑͘ổ̷͖̥͎́̔̃̕͝i̷̡̧̡̹̺̔̿̔͂̒̈͊̓͘͝ç̸̢̥̹̩̳̮̗͂͆̒̒̑̋̀͌̈́̎̀̊̚͝͝e̴̝̩͍̲͍̞͌̓͌̅̎̓͐̈́s̸̢̡̮̯͍͎̓͂̋̀̅̅̇̅͝͝͠ that comes with it.

Maybe if he just accepts his fate as a vessel to the M̷͓͍̿̀̍̑̍ơ̶̩̻̬̟̻̮͐̂̐̎t̴̡͔͕͎̒̓h̷̭̩͖̪̲́͑e̷̟̼̞̯̝̱̊͒̋͘r̵̮̰̆́́̄̈́̚b̵͎̾̊̏̀̿̚ò̴̹̱̆̐̈̅ä̸̺̻̮͍̲̇̓̕r̵̳͇̭̜͈̈̍͗̀̀d̷̫̀̈́, he could technically be 'free'.

Under her care.

Her Guidance.

Her orders.

Her word.

The Brawler led Flash Vector over to the location of The Motherboard. There, fresh and steaming hot fuel was delivered to each of the zombies via a tendril from The Motherboard's 'body'. It seemed there was extra portions given to freshly changed zombies in order to make up for any fuel they lost during being turned.

A cacophony of whispers echoed near the race tracks Sparkbit was near. It sounded eerily familiar like Flash Vector, calling out for help as if to lure grab him and run away from a 'horde' of zombots. Sparkbit can come and help Flash Vector or run.

( - @f1-invisk8r // Zombie Apocalypse Event )

Flash?

he called out looking for his older brother but keeping a safe distance

It called out once more. Somewhere in the race tracks. You could see some sort of figure, but it looks... off? If you squint hard enough, It has an odd amount of arms, a larger framework, but still Flash Vector shaped from a distance.

He approached closer, a chitter chattering-like noise coming from his broke voicebox. It seems to translate to "B̵̤͈̟̤͍̼̥͈͈͖͔͙͚͓̰͇͖̄̓̔r̷̮̬̮̟̦̟̪̪͎͉͓̥̞̣̖̯̯̎̇̑̑̀̆͛̕͠͝ơ̶̟̺̭̬̅̿͒͒̽͒̕t̶̮̖͐͐̕h̷̢̳̖͂̆͒̔̿͑̓̋̆̏̍̈͊̎̚͠͝͝è̶͈͚̺̘̯̫͉̼͈̂̈́́͛̅̚͘͜r̶͉͚̉̀̊͘̚".

With every janky step, a new chattering sound attempts to voice out. Part of his faceplate was torn, the tips of his digits melted and welded into a sharp-like edge. It looks almost.. painful to watch the skater struggle.

His processor struggled to determine if Sparkbit was a threat or an ally, but one thing was for sure: To some parts of Flash Vector, Sparkbit looks just as good as a meal to recover the missing oil from the previous encounter. His other half however struggled and clashed with the thought of targeting his own brother.

He stalked closer.

and closer.

Finding Sparkbit's approximate location through the soundwaves, he started to run — no, sprint with all his stamina. Just like before, he was relatively quicker given that he used his skates mid-way to catch up.

" Ĉ̸̳̬͎̥̽̄̊͑̚o̶̢̨̡̰͍̝͖͖̻̹̞͋̓ḿ̸̧̛̤͙̜̫͈̞̹̱̖͆͛̅̒̕̕͝e̵̡̨͕͙̫͖̩̜̞̞͖͙̊̄͂͐̅̉̆̒̈̐̉̔͗̿͠ͅ ̴̛̟̙̥̫̤̐́̏͗͑̒̆͛̋̊̇͘͠b̸̢̧͕̜͇͔̩̘͚̠̽̍̀͑́̾̚͝a̸̞͙̹̩̘̮̮͊͒̍̏̈́̔̈͊͛͛̂͋͠͝ç̴̨̢͎͓̗̳̹͑̊̚ͅḵ̸̩̤͚̭̽͌̌͐̇̈́̓́̈́͋̓̏͝ͅ,̵̠͍͙͉̙̣̩̻̪͉̻̙̙̆̊̓̽͌̄̅͝ ̶̛̫́͑̽̓̈́͠Į̴̡͈̖̪̦͎͉̺̥̬̠̮̾̆̏̀ ̴̦̖̪͓̼͇̽͌̑̇͌̈̚͝j̷̧̢̛̯̳̘̲͍͉̰̩̼͕̫̖̼͋͌̓͆̍͝u̷͔̘͔̰̒ͅs̶̨̍̊͊ͅt̶̨̨̳̺̩̟̜̻̦͙̪̱͍͉̑̿͊͆̈́͑̋̆̊͌̍̈́̄͘͝ ̸̡͕̮͍͍͓̝̦͙́́̓͑̀̈́͐͊̒ͅw̵̡͕̦̘̞̪͚͕̜̘̥͕̪͕̾́̅͊̑̒́͐̽̾͠͝͝͝ȧ̸̧̺̺͉͓̝͙̮̪̝̞̙̣̀͋̏͒͜͝͠͝͝n̸̨̛͍̹̘̭̦̋͒͂̓̔̇̚͠͝ṱ̷̡̹̪̲̥̣̺̦͔̈͗̏̌͠͠ ̵̧̣̲̘̻̬̼̝̰̟̰͇̻̘͈͐̍t̷̢̧̨̡̧̛̘̖̻͍̻̖̥̯͕̮̔̿̐̈́̾͋̀̒̾̂̓͠ơ̶̢̲̠̬̟̖͍̯̗̟̼̺͎̹̋̃̿̎̕͜ ̸̜̈́̋̆̄̚t̸̡͕͎̃̂̑̅̄̈̂́̈́͘̚a̸̧̟͎͔̯̔̽̇̏̃̈́̈́͜͠ͅͅļ̴̛̞͉̣̺̍͐̌̎́͋̐̄k̵̢̫̗͗̋̈́̅̀͋̀̓̄͆́̾͊́͝.̵̛͔̰̻̖̱͒̔̿̅̈́̍͊̕͝! „

The oil oozed into his mouth, a rabid purr emitting from his own chassis as he licked the oil clean from the injury. The claws kept Sparkbit down, most likely paralyzed and unable to move until he drained every bit of oil from the bot.

"Excellent work. That pessssst was starting to annoy The Motherboard. Come, let us drag his lifeless body to her so he can become one with ussss."

It dug a claw into Sparkbit's leg and dragged his limp frame down the street.

His own.

Brother.

He just.

K

I

L

L

E

D

.

A dull part of his slowly rotting core ached dully at the thought, as if some parts of his cardbot-like mannerisms still remains. After a bit of struggling with the annoying static mixed with his voicebox, he made a chatter-like response in their native language. Ṅ̸͇̤͓͚͊̕à̴͈͉͇t̸̼̄ī̴̡̭̖̮̇̕v̵̠̈̇ę̵̳̩̗͒̽̄̀ͅ?̶̛̣̦͍̮̰̑̋̈͗̑

The Brawler gushed on an on about The Motherboard. The praise never seemed to cease.

A cacophony of whispers echoed near the race tracks Sparkbit was near. It sounded eerily familiar like Flash Vector, calling out for help as if to lure grab him and run away from a 'horde' of zombots. Sparkbit can come and help Flash Vector or run.

( - @f1-invisk8r // Zombie Apocalypse Event )

Flash?

he called out looking for his older brother but keeping a safe distance

It called out once more. Somewhere in the race tracks. You could see some sort of figure, but it looks... off? If you squint hard enough, It has an odd amount of arms, a larger framework, but still Flash Vector shaped from a distance.

He approached closer, a chitter chattering-like noise coming from his broke voicebox. It seems to translate to "B̵̤͈̟̤͍̼̥͈͈͖͔͙͚͓̰͇͖̄̓̔r̷̮̬̮̟̦̟̪̪͎͉͓̥̞̣̖̯̯̎̇̑̑̀̆͛̕͠͝ơ̶̟̺̭̬̅̿͒͒̽͒̕t̶̮̖͐͐̕h̷̢̳̖͂̆͒̔̿͑̓̋̆̏̍̈͊̎̚͠͝͝è̶͈͚̺̘̯̫͉̼͈̂̈́́͛̅̚͘͜r̶͉͚̉̀̊͘̚".

With every janky step, a new chattering sound attempts to voice out. Part of his faceplate was torn, the tips of his digits melted and welded into a sharp-like edge. It looks almost.. painful to watch the skater struggle.

His processor struggled to determine if Sparkbit was a threat or an ally, but one thing was for sure: To some parts of Flash Vector, Sparkbit looks just as good as a meal to recover the missing oil from the previous encounter. His other half however struggled and clashed with the thought of targeting his own brother.

He stalked closer.

and closer.

Finding Sparkbit's approximate location through the soundwaves, he started to run — no, sprint with all his stamina. Just like before, he was relatively quicker given that he used his skates mid-way to catch up.

" Ĉ̸̳̬͎̥̽̄̊͑̚o̶̢̨̡̰͍̝͖͖̻̹̞͋̓ḿ̸̧̛̤͙̜̫͈̞̹̱̖͆͛̅̒̕̕͝e̵̡̨͕͙̫͖̩̜̞̞͖͙̊̄͂͐̅̉̆̒̈̐̉̔͗̿͠ͅ ̴̛̟̙̥̫̤̐́̏͗͑̒̆͛̋̊̇͘͠b̸̢̧͕̜͇͔̩̘͚̠̽̍̀͑́̾̚͝a̸̞͙̹̩̘̮̮͊͒̍̏̈́̔̈͊͛͛̂͋͠͝ç̴̨̢͎͓̗̳̹͑̊̚ͅḵ̸̩̤͚̭̽͌̌͐̇̈́̓́̈́͋̓̏͝ͅ,̵̠͍͙͉̙̣̩̻̪͉̻̙̙̆̊̓̽͌̄̅͝ ̶̛̫́͑̽̓̈́͠Į̴̡͈̖̪̦͎͉̺̥̬̠̮̾̆̏̀ ̴̦̖̪͓̼͇̽͌̑̇͌̈̚͝j̷̧̢̛̯̳̘̲͍͉̰̩̼͕̫̖̼͋͌̓͆̍͝u̷͔̘͔̰̒ͅs̶̨̍̊͊ͅt̶̨̨̳̺̩̟̜̻̦͙̪̱͍͉̑̿͊͆̈́͑̋̆̊͌̍̈́̄͘͝ ̸̡͕̮͍͍͓̝̦͙́́̓͑̀̈́͐͊̒ͅw̵̡͕̦̘̞̪͚͕̜̘̥͕̪͕̾́̅͊̑̒́͐̽̾͠͝͝͝ȧ̸̧̺̺͉͓̝͙̮̪̝̞̙̣̀͋̏͒͜͝͠͝͝n̸̨̛͍̹̘̭̦̋͒͂̓̔̇̚͠͝ṱ̷̡̹̪̲̥̣̺̦͔̈͗̏̌͠͠ ̵̧̣̲̘̻̬̼̝̰̟̰͇̻̘͈͐̍t̷̢̧̨̡̧̛̘̖̻͍̻̖̥̯͕̮̔̿̐̈́̾͋̀̒̾̂̓͠ơ̶̢̲̠̬̟̖͍̯̗̟̼̺͎̹̋̃̿̎̕͜ ̸̜̈́̋̆̄̚t̸̡͕͎̃̂̑̅̄̈̂́̈́͘̚a̸̧̟͎͔̯̔̽̇̏̃̈́̈́͜͠ͅͅļ̴̛̞͉̣̺̍͐̌̎́͋̐̄k̵̢̫̗͗̋̈́̅̀͋̀̓̄͆́̾͊́͝.̵̛͔̰̻̖̱͒̔̿̅̈́̍͊̕͝! „

The oil oozed into his mouth, a rabid purr emitting from his own chassis as he licked the oil clean from the injury. The claws kept Sparkbit down, most likely paralyzed and unable to move until he drained every bit of oil from the bot.

"Excellent work. That pessssst was starting to annoy The Motherboard. Come, let us drag his lifeless body to her so he can become one with ussss."

It dug a claw into Sparkbit's leg and dragged his limp frame down the street.

A cacophony of whispers echoed near the race tracks Sparkbit was near. It sounded eerily familiar like Flash Vector, calling out for help as if to lure grab him and run away from a 'horde' of zombots. Sparkbit can come and help Flash Vector or run.

( - @f1-invisk8r // Zombie Apocalypse Event )

Flash?

he called out looking for his older brother but keeping a safe distance

It called out once more. Somewhere in the race tracks. You could see some sort of figure, but it looks... off? If you squint hard enough, It has an odd amount of arms, a larger framework, but still Flash Vector shaped from a distance.

He approached closer, a chitter chattering-like noise coming from his broke voicebox. It seems to translate to "B̵̤͈̟̤͍̼̥͈͈͖͔͙͚͓̰͇͖̄̓̔r̷̮̬̮̟̦̟̪̪͎͉͓̥̞̣̖̯̯̎̇̑̑̀̆͛̕͠͝ơ̶̟̺̭̬̅̿͒͒̽͒̕t̶̮̖͐͐̕h̷̢̳̖͂̆͒̔̿͑̓̋̆̏̍̈͊̎̚͠͝͝è̶͈͚̺̘̯̫͉̼͈̂̈́́͛̅̚͘͜r̶͉͚̉̀̊͘̚".

With every janky step, a new chattering sound attempts to voice out. Part of his faceplate was torn, the tips of his digits melted and welded into a sharp-like edge. It looks almost.. painful to watch the skater struggle.

His processor struggled to determine if Sparkbit was a threat or an ally, but one thing was for sure: To some parts of Flash Vector, Sparkbit looks just as good as a meal to recover the missing oil from the previous encounter. His other half however struggled and clashed with the thought of targeting his own brother.

He stalked closer.

and closer.

Finding Sparkbit's approximate location through the soundwaves, he started to run — no, sprint with all his stamina. Just like before, he was relatively quicker given that he used his skates mid-way to catch up.

" Ĉ̸̳̬͎̥̽̄̊͑̚o̶̢̨̡̰͍̝͖͖̻̹̞͋̓ḿ̸̧̛̤͙̜̫͈̞̹̱̖͆͛̅̒̕̕͝e̵̡̨͕͙̫͖̩̜̞̞͖͙̊̄͂͐̅̉̆̒̈̐̉̔͗̿͠ͅ ̴̛̟̙̥̫̤̐́̏͗͑̒̆͛̋̊̇͘͠b̸̢̧͕̜͇͔̩̘͚̠̽̍̀͑́̾̚͝a̸̞͙̹̩̘̮̮͊͒̍̏̈́̔̈͊͛͛̂͋͠͝ç̴̨̢͎͓̗̳̹͑̊̚ͅḵ̸̩̤͚̭̽͌̌͐̇̈́̓́̈́͋̓̏͝ͅ,̵̠͍͙͉̙̣̩̻̪͉̻̙̙̆̊̓̽͌̄̅͝ ̶̛̫́͑̽̓̈́͠Į̴̡͈̖̪̦͎͉̺̥̬̠̮̾̆̏̀ ̴̦̖̪͓̼͇̽͌̑̇͌̈̚͝j̷̧̢̛̯̳̘̲͍͉̰̩̼͕̫̖̼͋͌̓͆̍͝u̷͔̘͔̰̒ͅs̶̨̍̊͊ͅt̶̨̨̳̺̩̟̜̻̦͙̪̱͍͉̑̿͊͆̈́͑̋̆̊͌̍̈́̄͘͝ ̸̡͕̮͍͍͓̝̦͙́́̓͑̀̈́͐͊̒ͅw̵̡͕̦̘̞̪͚͕̜̘̥͕̪͕̾́̅͊̑̒́͐̽̾͠͝͝͝ȧ̸̧̺̺͉͓̝͙̮̪̝̞̙̣̀͋̏͒͜͝͠͝͝n̸̨̛͍̹̘̭̦̋͒͂̓̔̇̚͠͝ṱ̷̡̹̪̲̥̣̺̦͔̈͗̏̌͠͠ ̵̧̣̲̘̻̬̼̝̰̟̰͇̻̘͈͐̍t̷̢̧̨̡̧̛̘̖̻͍̻̖̥̯͕̮̔̿̐̈́̾͋̀̒̾̂̓͠ơ̶̢̲̠̬̟̖͍̯̗̟̼̺͎̹̋̃̿̎̕͜ ̸̜̈́̋̆̄̚t̸̡͕͎̃̂̑̅̄̈̂́̈́͘̚a̸̧̟͎͔̯̔̽̇̏̃̈́̈́͜͠ͅͅļ̴̛̞͉̣̺̍͐̌̎́͋̐̄k̵̢̫̗͗̋̈́̅̀͋̀̓̄͆́̾͊́͝.̵̛͔̰̻̖̱͒̔̿̅̈́̍͊̕͝! „

The oil oozed into his mouth, a rabid purr emitting from his own chassis as he licked the oil clean from the injury. The claws kept Sparkbit down, most likely paralyzed and unable to move until he drained every bit of oil from the bot.

”Spaaaarrksss….”

Lavender Aegis: "PHOENIX..."

"ＨＯＷ ＩＮ ＴＨＥ ＦＲＡＧＧＩＮＧ ＷＯＲＬＤ ＤＩＤ ＹＯＵ ＬＥＴ ＹＯＵＲＳＥＬＦ ＧＥＴ ＢＩＴＴＥＮ ＢＹ Ａ ＺＯＭＢＩＥ ＣＡＲＤＢＯＴ!!!!!????? "

He looked at what was supposed to be his ally. But in his mind?…nothing more than a cardbot to infect. He snarled and chirped.

Which translated into “Bitten..”

*she grabs Phoenix Fire's arm*

He didn’t wanna infect her. He didn’t wanna make her like him.

He screamed. And kept pulling and pulling.

until…

!!!!!SHRRRRRIIIIIPPPPPP!!!!

Just like paper.

Arm off.

He stared at the arm, then at Lavender Aegis. He snarled. Showing her that he’s lost it. And he bolts off somewhere.

(Feel free to add or reblog to the angst!)

That interaction with the crawler, left him shook. Though..he couldn’t process it properly. He didn’t know how much he ran but definitely to the point where his own knees buckled at any attempt at more running ability.

He looked around, seeing the empty streets of MowTown. The apocalypse must’ve wiped out people..poor people. Well nothing he could do anyways..he’d need Jun’s command just to work properly.

He should’ve stayed in the metal breath. He should’ve. But deus Machina above let him stay outside for some peaceful day, only for everything to fall apart right before his own optics.

“Jun…I…gotta…bite/infect…find him..” He muttered while slowly slumping and buckling under the heaviness of his own body. “…Crap..what’s..goin on..” He asked himself, he looked at his own hands. His dizziness making it hard to even see. He could see his vision glitching on between if his own hands were rotting or..normal..

What was he supposed to feel in all this..? He should’ve been angry at himself, he should’ve been shocked at that crawler, he should’ve stayed BRAVE.

But he was empty.

Empty…..?..was it the word?

Empty. Numb. Etc.

He muttered under his breath, his knee joints buckled under his weight as he dragged the crawler with him.

“You…”

Why did he feel so numb…so empty?…so…….weak. He shouldn’t, he should’ve saved lives. But couldn’t. How..? Why? This wasn’t even supposed to happen.

He could’ve saved the others, or saved survivors. Yet…this….CRAWLER. Just had to bite him.

Well….nothing left to save. Might as well join’em…

"Rot? I merely made you better! You should be on your knees thanking The Motherboard for saving you. She's the only one who can give you everything you need!"

It held up Phoenix Fire's helm.

(Feel free to add or reblog to the angst!)

That interaction with the crawler, left him shook. Though..he couldn’t process it properly. He didn’t know how much he ran but definitely to the point where his own knees buckled at any attempt at more running ability.

He looked around, seeing the empty streets of MowTown. The apocalypse must’ve wiped out people..poor people. Well nothing he could do anyways..he’d need Jun’s command just to work properly.

He should’ve stayed in the metal breath. He should’ve. But deus Machina above let him stay outside for some peaceful day, only for everything to fall apart right before his own optics.

“Jun…I…gotta…bite/infect…find him..” He muttered while slowly slumping and buckling under the heaviness of his own body. “…Crap..what’s..goin on..” He asked himself, he looked at his own hands. His dizziness making it hard to even see. He could see his vision glitching on between if his own hands were rotting or..normal..

What was he supposed to feel in all this..? He should’ve been angry at himself, he should’ve been shocked at that crawler, he should’ve stayed BRAVE.

But he was empty.

Empty…..?..was it the word?

Empty. Numb. Etc.

A low sort of cackling came from the outside of Acid Base's lab. A Brawler had taken Lynn hostage and was now holding her in front of one of the security cameras.

"Help me!! Help me Acid Base!"

The Brawler mimicked before bursting into more laughter. It slobbered all over the camera before scampering off to another one.

-- @zombie-cardbot

"...of course"

He approached the door but wait, his subject would never speak like that! Heck she normally doesnt like calling him. Before he even opens the door he unfolds his plane wings and looks up, at the skylight, flying up with the thrusters in his heels he unengaged the skylight and ended up in the air.

Looking down upon the crawler stalking at the door he flew up again, readying his staff.

"Indeed something is horribly wrong."

His first instinct is to go down and observe it however- he needed to focus, mentally slapping himself to not start getting distracted with experiments.

His main one is missing and he planned to retrieve it.

Its voice however... imitation... pretending to be his... This thing is involved. And if it is, then how far does this go?

Why..?

No time to worry about that! Just means the sucker gave up! Time to grab his research subje-

A cacophony of whispering voices circled Peruru's home. Flash Vector was trapped inside with seemingly no escape. It was either fight or get ambushed. He had no other option.

While he was zoned out, a voice chittered outside. It sounded like Sparkbit amongst all the whispers.

"Brother! Brother come outside! It's so lovely out! Come outside. Come outside. Come outside. Come outside. Come outside.

Come outside."

-- @zombie-cardbot

Editing finished! Enjoy

The racer froze, expression changing as he heard the whispers of supposedly his 'brother'. Coming outside? He doubts he wants to do THAT after seeing some sort of broadcast a few days ago, then again..

/ " I thought Sparkbit was doing something.. its so odd to hear his voice outside. " /

Flash Vector's core was somewhat racing, torn between looking outside or staying inside. He looks around — no one else is inside the house. Oh by Deus.. He doubts the door (??) would last longer.

/ " Its fine.. Its fine! I just need to check the outside and just see if its actually Sparkbit.. good Deus, I hope he is alright "/

Coming to a decision, he ex-vented as he got his side blades ready and loaded with a last-minute smoke bomb assembled.

" Sparkbit? „

He opened the door, 'ready'.

Chomp.

" HHHHEEELPPP!!!!! PLEASE- ANYONE!!!! „

A scream finally tore from his vocalizer, unable to hold it back much longer. It came out broken, unstable, and very glitchy yet loud enough for hopefully anyone to hear. The bite reached a part of his vocalizer, oil oozing out as his vocalizer completely gave out.

As his consciousness flickered rapidly, his processor went back to that horrible, horrible time.

A cacophony of whispering voices circled Peruru's home. Flash Vector was trapped inside with seemingly no escape. It was either fight or get ambushed. He had no other option.

While he was zoned out, a voice chittered outside. It sounded like Sparkbit amongst all the whispers.

"Brother! Brother come outside! It's so lovely out! Come outside. Come outside. Come outside. Come outside. Come outside.

Come outside."

-- @zombie-cardbot

Editing finished! Enjoy

The racer froze, expression changing as he heard the whispers of supposedly his 'brother'. Coming outside? He doubts he wants to do THAT after seeing some sort of broadcast a few days ago, then again..

/ " I thought Sparkbit was doing something.. its so odd to hear his voice outside. " /

Flash Vector's core was somewhat racing, torn between looking outside or staying inside. He looks around — no one else is inside the house. Oh by Deus.. He doubts the door (??) would last longer.

/ " Its fine.. Its fine! I just need to check the outside and just see if its actually Sparkbit.. good Deus, I hope he is alright "/

Coming to a decision, he ex-vented as he got his side blades ready and loaded with a last-minute smoke bomb assembled.

" Sparkbit? „

He opened the door, 'ready'.

Chomp.