Chapter 1

"Thank you for saving me Drake," Katy says gratefully. "I'm the Commander of the Humanity Resistance Front. You can call me Katy," she adds with a smile.

"Drake…is that my name?" he wonders aloud, staring down at the robotic parts strewn across the floor. "Why can't I remember that?"

"You don't remember?" she asks, walking up to him. He looks over at her, truly noticing the woman for the first time. Drake shakes his head in response.

"Well you have been in that tank for an awfully long time. Nobody knows what sort of effects Cholos has with such long exposure. Although -"

"How long?"

She blinks in surprise. "I honestly have no idea. Ah -" she walks back over to the terminal by the now broken tank that Drake had been held in. "But this terminal might be able to tell me." She types in a few commands. "Hm, says here you volunteered for the Cybertitration experiment in the year - 2037?!" She stares at the terminal in shock.

"…what year is it now?" he asks, walking up to look over her shoulder.

"The year is 3023. That - that's just not possible!"

"Wait…you're saying I've been in that tank for nearly a thousand years?"

"No human being could possibly survive that long, no matter how long they were floating in a Cholos tank!" Katy steps back from the terminal, rapid thoughts flicking through her mind. Was the Cybertitration experiment truly that successful? No way! Hell no! No matter the technology, the human body simply is not built to last for that long! They would have had to replace every single part of the body with robotic parts, even download the mind into a computer, for him to survive that long. Just like…

"You-you are human, aren't you?"

Drake stares at her incredulously, surprised by the question. "Of course I'm human. What else could I be?"

"You could be a robot, for one thing," she mutters almost inaudibly. "But no…not even the most advanced robots in this time period are able to simulate humans so flawlessly. But then…" she shakes her head in frustration. "How could you possibly be alive that long?!"

"…I don't know. I can't even remember my name right now, let alone anything else about my past." I'm the one who should be freaking out…so why am I so calm? Drake shakes his head, choosing not to worry about it.

"I've read about the Cybertitration experiment," she continues, not hearing him. "I've read about this experiment performed by the time period's most skilled scientists from around the world, seeking to create the perfect blend of human and machine. The perfect cybernetic organism. I'd thought maybe it was done ten or twenty years ago, in an attempt to seek an end to the war that had been going on for so long. If not that, I'd thought that it was before the war started, and the scientists had forseen the impending conflict. It seems I was way off."

Drake looks up suddenly towards the broken-in door. "This is something to figure out later. We'd better get out of here."

She sighs. "You're right. I'll have to think this through later. Besides, you're obviously what I've been searching for. How close are they?" she asks, stepping back up to the terminal.

"…it should take them about five minutes to get to this room." Wait-how do I know that? The words just came to my mind and I said them, but I don't even know if that's right. Drake hopes that his mind isn't just making stuff up.

"That's some hearing you have…I'll have to trust it. Five minutes is just enough time."

"What for?"

"I'm going to download the experiment data. I don't know what those scientists did to you, but I may be able to use their research to recreate whatever technology makes you so capable a fighter against the machines. I may even discover what has allowed you to survive for so long." She begins typing away at the terminal. Information scrolls rapidly across her head-mounted computer as it begins to record the data.

Drake crouches down and looks over the remains of a nearby robot. "So what are these?"

"They're Fletcher units."

"Fletcher units?" he asks, not comprehending.

"It's the class of robot you just saved me from. Dammit, I just realized. You know absolutely nothing about this war. In your time, self-thinking robots were only just being produced. Even a modern computer is more advanced than the robots from your time." Yet he was able to take them out with his bare fists. To think that the Cybertitration experiment had results like this, when it took place almost one thousand years ago…what else is this mysterious blue-haired man capable of? Katy shakes her head and focuses on the terminal.

"I did think it a little odd to find robots like these after you. But…damn, I'm a thousand years old. That's a strange thing to claim." He rubs the back of his head as he glances towards the broken-in door again.

"You've got a lot of catching up to do," she says with a smirk.

"What was that?" he asks a few moments later, listening to some distant sound.

"What?" she asks, alarmed.

"I don't know what it is, but it sounds a lot larger than these Fletcher units."

"Crap. They must have brought a Kami unit. Those things are much bigger and tougher than the Fletcher units, and can smash through walls."

A rumble could be heard coming from the direction Katy previously ran through.

"We'd better move it." Drake furrows his brow. "Are you nearly finished with that?"

"It's almost done."

"I hope so. The sooner we leave, the better."

Something on the terminal's screen catches her eye. "Now that's interesting. Drake, in the bottom of your tank, underneath the glass portion, you should find a switch. Could you press it for me? I can't leave the terminal."
Drake nods and walks over to his shattered tank. He searches along the foot-high metal rim along the bottom of it until he notices a small square colored differently from the rest. He presses this in.

When he presses the button, a seam appears beside it, and a portion of the metal rim slides out like a drawer. Inside this drawer, spread out inside the thin container, is a navy-blue armored suit that appears to be just Drake's size. It appears to be made of two layers. The bottom layer seems like a skin-tight suit that looks like leather, but feels and moves like silk. It is made to fit on smoothly, like a second layer of skin. The top layer is comprised of half-inch thick plates of an unknown metal, following along most of the curves of the layer underneath, all very small in size and interlocking together, like scales. It's meant to cover every inch of the body below the head, including the neck. Next to the suit are a pair of small squares that appear to be for placing over the ear, similar to Katy's head-mounted computer.

"According to the terminal, this is your Aegis Suit. I'll have to analyze this data more closely to get more data on it, though."

"Aegis, huh? Wasn't that another name for the Chimera, which was slain by Athena, who afterwards wore its skin as a cuirass?" He runs his hand across the armor wonderingly. "I think it was also referenced as the shield of Zeus."

"Those are some pretty old legends. Are you beginning to remember now?"

"No. I think I've only forgotten things about myself. Regardless, we should take it with us. It seems to be related to this Cybertitration experiment." Drake looks over the suit. "However, I don't-" he accidentally presses in a switch on the inside of the drawer, and it pops out of the tank. Seemingly of its own accord, the drawer starts folding in upon itself, enclosing the suit inside. When it's done, an average metal briefcase sits on the floor. "Nevermind," murmurs Drake as he grabs the briefcase and stands up.

"All right, I've got it," Katy announces. She steps away from the terminal and taps the device over her ear. The square of glass in front of her eye folds back and into the device. She hesitates by Wes' lifeless body. "I'm sorry, old friend. I cannot give you proper respects. You won't hate me for it, will you?" She smiles, remembering things from her past. "No…that's not the sort of thing you'd do." She crouches down and picks up Wes and Chi's Plasmarattlers from the floor. "I'm going to borrow these."

She walks over to Drake and tosses one of the Plasmarattlers to him.

"Although I'm sure it's very advanced, this is just a gun, right?" he asks, catching it.

"You got it."

"It doesn't need any ammunition?" he asks dubiously, looking it over.

"No, the Plasmarattler has it's own endless power source, generating the plasma that it fires out when you pull the trigger. Plasma is the only thing that can faze the robots we fight against."

Drake shrugs. "It's got a trigger, so I don't need to worry about much else."

Metallic footsteps sound from beyond the doorway.

"Damn. That's cutting it far too close. Let's go. The back exit is this way." Drake runs off to the back of the room, Katy following behind.

"You know a way to a safe place?" he asks her.

"Yes. We should be able to make it to the extraction point before they can catch up."

As they step through the back door into an underground tunnel, Drake pauses. He presses a button by the door, and when the metal shutter drops down, he punches the keypad in with his fist.

The tunnel is enveloped in darkness as the bright lights of the labs are cut off by the door.

"That might hold them off for a while," he says turning from the door.

"Not for very long. Let's go."

They start racing down the tunnel, Drake following Katy's tread. She leads him down many twists and turns, never once hesitating to decide which way to go. After about a minute, the sound of metal banging onto metal can be heard from the direction of the labs. After several minutes of heavy running, they finally stumble through a door and into another room with functioning lights, albeit dimly. Drake whirls around and fires off the Plasmarattler back the way they came. Then he closes the metal shutter behind him, again punching in the keypad by the door, as menacing red lights appear around the last bend and right into the rounds of plasma. Katy bends over, hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath.

Terminals line the far wall by a closed metal shutter. One of them has several holes in its panel, which were meant as receptacles for some object. One of these holes still has stored in it a metal cylinder with a rounded end that appears as if it's made to be gripped by a human hand. Neither of the humans notices the terminals, being of little interest to the escaping pair.

"Cutting it way too close," Drake mumbles. He glances around at the dusty room, wishing he could remember. "This place is familiar. I wond-" The sound of metal banging on metal resounds from behind him as the Fletcher units begin trying to smash in the door, reminding the two of their urgency.

"We don't have time to wonder, though. We need to keep moving." He walks up beside Katy, who's still trying to breathe. He hasn't even broken a sweat.

"Just…let me…breathe," she replies, gasping for air.

Another pounding, louder and less metallic, can be heard suddenly, causing the lights to flicker and loose pieces of rock to fall down from the ceiling.

"Hm?" Drake looks around the room and it happens again. That's definitely not a Fletcher unit. It sounds like it's coming from the wall over there. Could this be the Kami unit Katy was talking about earlier?

The pounding gets louder, and more pieces of rock fall down from the ceiling. Looking up, Drake notices larger pieces breaking loose.

"Look out!" he shouts. Tossing the briefcase and Plasmarattler a safe distance, hoping nothing gets damaged as they clatter against a wall, he dashes forward, picks up Katy in his arms, and then jumps out of the way. Large, heavy pieces of rock fall from the ceiling and pile up around the door.

"Well, I guess we're never going back that way. But then, the Fletcher units will never catch up, either."

"I think I'm fine now," Katy says, smirking.

"Oh, right," he mumbles, setting her back down.

"I've got my breath back. We'd better hurry, judging from that noise." She starts walking towards the only remaining door in the room.

"The extraction point-" She is cut off when the wall suddenly explodes from one side and a large object crashes right into the room where Katy is standing.

"Katy!" Drake shouts as she screams out. A cloud of dirt and dust rises up and obscures everything.

Drake shields his eyes from the cloud of dirt. It finally clears away to reveal a robot that looks like a Fletcher unit, with two exceptions. It has two hands, instead of one hand and an energy cannon. This is probably because it doesn't really need one. The Kami unit is twice the size of a Fletcher unit, meaning that it's twice the size of an average human.

It holds Katy in one of it's large robotic hands, her Plasmarattler pressed up uselessly against her side. The hole in the wall behind it seals itself off as the ceiling collapeses down from above it, blocking off any allies that the robot may have had.

"Drake, run! You're no match for one of these!" she shouts, uselessly struggling to break free. "You've got to make it to the resistance base! There's an aircraft waiting to pick you up outside! You're-" The Kami unit taps her on the head, almost gently, knocking her unconcious. It then looks down at Drake with it's glowing red eye, assessing whether he is a threat.

"I'm not letting you get off that easy, pal," Drake says to the robot. He slides one foot backwards and raises up his fists, then beckons with one hand mockingly. "Come on. Show me how tough you really are," Drake adds with a smirk.

The robot sets down the unconcious Katy off to the side, well out of the way of the two combatants, right next to the briefcase and Plasmarattler, in fact. Then it turns back to face Drake, it's back to the door leading outside.

It rushes at Drake then with surprising speed for it's bulk, and swings a large metallic leg at him. Drake jumps nimbly to the side, dodging it easily. He darts toward the Kami unit's other leg and punches it in the shin with all the strength he can muster. The black armor dents in about an inch.

"What the hell?" Drake exclaims. He jumps away quickly as the Kami unit swipes at him with a large hand.

"I guess you're pretty tough after all, big guy." He shakes out his hand. "That stung a little."

The Kami unit attacks again, this time trying to punch the blue-haired fighter with one large fist. Drake dodges to the side, air blasting by his face. The robot swings out it's leg then, attempting a side kick at the man.

Drake ducks under the black robotic limb and darts forward. The robot swings the leg back, hoping to catch Drake off-guard. He jumps back, barely avoiding the attack.

The Kami unit continues to press the attack, swinging it's fist at Drake. He ducks under this limb as well.

Pulling back it's fist, it fires a punch at him. Drake jumps back out of reach. The robot merely takes a step forward and jabs out with the other fist, causing Drake to jump backwards. They repeat this several times, the Kami unit pushing Drake back further and further, until his back bumps up against the wall of rubble.

The robot jabs out another punch, and his fist crashes into the rubble, sending a cloud of dirt to fly up and obscure its vision.

As the dust clears, it shows Drake standing on top of the Kami unit's massive arm, without a single scratch.

"Too slow," Drake mocks. He races up the robot's arm and jumps onto it's shoulder as the robot pulls away from the wall. It tries to swipe him off with the other hand, but Drake jumps up onto the robot's hand. He runs down this other arm directly in front of the robot's head, looking up into the big red eye.

"You know what they say: the bigger they are," He jumps up at the eye, pulling back his fist for a punch, "the harder they-" His fist bounces off the lens of the glowing eye. "What?!" he exclaims as he catches on to the rim of the eye with his other.

The robot grabs onto Drake with one mighty hand, turns around, and flings him across the room. He smacks painfully into the metal door with a grunt, sliding down next to the terminal with the rounded cylinder sticking out. The side panel of the terminal crackles as a speaker comes to life.

"Drake, take your blade," sounds a deep voice from the speaker. The last remaining cylinder pops out of the terminal's front panel, waiting for somebody to grip it.

"What? Who are-"

"You don't have time to think!" shouts the voice. Shaking his head to clear it, Drake decides that the voice is absolutely right.

He pushes himself up, no longer feeling the pain from smashing into the metal door. The Kami unit, seeing its foe still alive, begins walking across the room. Drake looks at the rounded cylinder suspiciously.

"Take your blade, dammit!" exclaims the unknown helper again.

"Guess I've got no choice," he mutters, as the Kami unit get closer. Gripping the cylinder, he pulls it out of the terminal, and finds that it's just a cylinder with a disc on one end, placed around a hole. The disc is shaped to resemble the wings of some bird, wrapping around the end of the cylinder. Engraved on the rounded end are the letters DW.

"Huh?" Looking it over, he notices a button. Drake presses it with his thumb, and a bright light shoots from it. Extending thirty inches from the cylinder is a glowing hot streak of blue plasma, humming softly. The robot stops in its tracks as it notices this new development.

"Use your Materiawing well, old friend," says the deep voice gruffly.

"Friend?" Drake asks as the speaker crackles and dies.

Looking over at the large Kami unit, Drake remembers what Katy said earlier about plasma. The Kami unit decides at that moment to press the attack once more, swinging its fist forward in a powerful punch.

Gripping the plasma blade in front of him with both hands, Drake charges forward, directly at the punch. The glowing blue blade slices through the fist, allowing Drake to keep running forward as it slices all the way up the robots arm.

He pauses as steps out behind the robot. He pushes off the ground, actually coming even with the robots neck, and slashes out with his blade, severing the Kami unit's head from its body.

He lands back on the ground by Katy, still unconcious in the corner by the terminals. He presses the button on the handle of the Materiawing, turning it off.

"Sorry Katy, but I don't have time to be polite." He wraps one arm around her waist and hefts her over his shoulder. He then straps both Plasmarattlers over his free shoulder, and picks up the briefcase with the Aegis Suit, holding the hilt of the Materiawing tightly against the briefcase handle.

Thus encumbered, he presses the button to open the door, and steps outside.

The landscape around him is that of a totally decimated city, buildings collapsed in on themselves and skyscrapers in the distance with the top half broken off. The sky is covered with heavy clouds, lightning flashing occasionally in between them, totally blocking off the sun, leaving the landscape in a dreary dim light. Dry wind streams Drake's sapphire hair behind him as he steps away from the door, located in the side of a large cliff. What the hell happened to the world in the past one thousand years?

Before he can even begin to speculate on what caused this, a loud whirring blasts from above him, and a constant blast of air blows his hair around wildly. A searchlight snaps on from above, illuminating Drake and the unconcious Katy.

"What the hell?" he looks up, squinting against the bright light, to see an aircraft, designed much like a helicopter without the whirring blades, hovering in the air by a propulsion system located underneath.

Then suddenly, Drake and his load disappears in a flash of light. The hovercraft snaps off the searchlight and flies away, far into the distance, as a swarm of Fletcher units walk outside of the compound.

Introduction

A small group of people race through a dark, pitch-black tunnel deep beneath the earth. Dim lights flicker across their faces every now and then as they pass under a barely functional lighting. In the lead is a beautiful woman, her long chestnut hair tied up into a bun so as not to be cumbersome. She wears an army-style white tank top over her large bust, the outline of a sports bra partly visible through it, and baggy green fatigues with hefty army boots.

All in the group wear the same slouching green beret.

"They're gaining on us!" shouts somebody from the back. "Come and get some!" He stops running and turns around, while the others keep running forward. Gunfire can be heard coming from behind the group. Not long after a cry of pain can be heard down the tunnel.

Damn it! the woman thinks to herself. At this rate…

Another of the soldiers at the back stops running and turns around to delay their pursuers.

We must find a way to lose them. We can't fight them off!

The dark tunnel suddenly ends and opens up into a large room. The lights high up above still work perfectly, so the room is lit as bright as day. Various machine parts lay strewn across the floor, and what were once computers lining the wall are crumbling apart. A thick layer of dust covers the floor.

The woman pauses as she races into the room.

"Where are we?" she wonders aloud. A dirt-covered insignia on one of the walls catches her eye. What…can it be? Did we find it?

"Commander, we don't ha-" begins one of the soldiers.

"Look out!" cries out somebody from the back. The soldiers whirl around as their pursuers come out of the tunnel.

They stand as tall as a human, the entire body made of matte black metal. One of the arms ends in, instead of a hand, a thick cylinder with a hold at the end. Its one hand is fully jointed like a human hand. Its two legs are just like a human's, albeit made of metal. Emblazoned on the chest is a silver skull and crossbones. Its spherical head, resting on a joint that works just like a human neck, has only one feature: a large red eye, glowing cold-heartedly, taking in all of its surroundings.

Thirty of these humanoid robots spill out from the tunnel, pausing to glare at its prey. Each raises its cylinder arm and points it at the group of humans, the hand resting on the cylinder to improve aim.

The soldiers bring their guns to bear on the robots. "We'll hold them off, ma'am, you get out of here!" The soldiers open fire, taking down many of the robots. More keep pouring out of the tunnel. The robots return fire, balls of energy flying back at the soldiers. The enemy rounds dissipate an inch before striking any of the soldiers, as their personal shields blocks all of the energy. The shields glimmer weakly, weakened greatly by the attack.

The woman stares dumbstruck at the sheer numbers of the foe.

"Get going!" shouts one of the soldiers over his back. "We can't last long like this!"

"Let's go, Commander," offers a male soldier at her side. "There must be an exit up ahead." A female soldier stands beside her as well. Her two personal guards protect her until the end.

The woman nods, breaking out of her stupor. "Such a waste of life…" she mutters, as she runs away from the battle with her guards.

Every time they pass through a doorway, the woman stops to press a button on the wall, causing a heavy metal shutter to drop down, in the hopes of stalling their robotic pursuers for a bit longer.

The rooms they pass through are always full of machinery and lab equipment, all in various states of disrepair. Nobody has been here for decades. All the machinery is far behind our current level of technology. The woman even notices an old-fashioned computer monitor, which was long ago replaced by flat panes of silicon glass, which doubles as the computer itself.

They eventually enter a room with large tanks filled with the blue-tinted healing chemical, Cholos. Most of the tanks are shattered, their contents mostly empty. One of the tanks in the far back of the room is perfectly intact, full of Cholos, and holds a person floating inside, various wires and tubes are stuck into his body and a breathing mask is strapped over his face, keeping him alive.

The woman stops by the tank, staring at the man inside. How long has this man been in this tank? He doesn't look a day over 21! Could that be the Cholos…or something else?

The man is wearing only a pair of loose-fitting black pants, revealing a muscular and well-toned torso and arms. Though he's so muscular, his body build is not large; He's more compact than bulky, and he probably only comes to about 5' 9" in height. His hair is an extraordinary shade of sapphire blue, and has grown out to his waist over the long years in the tank. His fair white skin is without a single flaw, and his features are nearly angelic in perfection.

"Is this what you've been searching for ma'am?" asks the female soldier.

"Yes. I've been looking for him for a long time," answers the woman. She walks up to the terminal beside the tank, and checks the various readouts. "His name is Drake. And if I'm making out these readings right, he was the best of the bunch."

"He sure looks it. I've never seen a more attractive guy, not even in the old action movies. I wonder what happened to all of the others…" comments the female soldier as she looks at all the empty tanks.

"Who knows?" answers the male soldier. "Let's hurry and get this guy out of the tank, this place gives me the creeps. We need to haul ass before more of the Fletcher units show up."

"Agreed," nods the female soldier. She hefts her Plasmarattler rifle and points it at the metal shutter they last passed through. "If they break through, we'll do our best to hold them off ma'am. You'd best be quick about it."

"So, you're the last surviving member of the Cybertitration experiment," wonders the woman, looking up at the sleeping Drake. She taps a device covering her ear, and an arm extends forward, flipping a square of silicon glass in front of her right eye. She starts typing away at the tank's terminal. I'll have to hack through the defenses. For such primitive technology, their security is better than our own. I'll have to remember how they set this up so I can implement it on our own systems. Information scrolls across her head-mounted computer.

A few minutes of nervous sweating later, the loud banging of metal on metal can be heard from the other side of the metal shutter, as it shakes with the force of the blows.

"Shit! They got here earlier than I thought!" exclaims the male soldier.

"All the guys! Were they that powerless?" despairs the female soldier.

"No time to mourn them now, Chi, we've got to protect the commander." He pulls a handful of small metal discs from a pocket of his combat vest and tosses them onto the ground in front of the door.

"Good thinking, Wes, those mines should thin their numbers," mutters Chi.

"I don't think it will be enough, though," answers Wes, grimacing. "How's it coming along Commander?" he asks over his shoulder.

"I've just about got it. The security is tougher than I thought." Sweat beads on her skin as she focuses intently on breaking the tank's system.

"You're cutting it pretty close. We'll have to make a run for it." He cocks his Plasmarattler and aims it at the shutter.

"Almost there…" mutters the commander. "I've already gotten into some of the controls, but the main release is still guarded."

Wires and tubes snap away from Drake, floating in the tube. The wounds where they plugged into his back heal nearly instantly as the Cholos repairs his body. He remains unconscious, though, as the breathing mask also supplies a steady trickle of knockout gas so that a person won't wake up until all of his injuries are healed or somebody releases him from the tank.

The metal shutter suddenly dents in as it begins to weaken against the blows of the robotic foe.

"We're lucky it's only Fletcher units," mutters Wes. "If they had just one Kami unit, we'd be dead already." Sweat drips from his chin.

Chi nods as sweat rolls down her shoulders, staining the edges of her sleeveless shirt.

"I only need some time," announces the commander, typing furiously away at the terminal. The Cholos begins to drain from the tank as she breaks into the drainage controls. Drake collapses onto the floor of the tank. The breathing mask pulls away from his face, and he stirs slightly as the effects of the knockout gas begin to wear off.

The metal shutter dents in even further, and slight gaps appear at the edges. The red glow of the Fletcher eyes emanates from the gap.

"Time is the one thing we don't got!" Wes says impatiently.

The metal shutter suddenly falls inward with a loud clang, and the red-eyed robots start pouring into the room. The mines Wes laid on the floor go off, engulfing several dozen of the Fletcher units in flame.

"Are there any left?" asks Wes, peering through the smoke.

"Count on it," mutters Chi.

Red light pierces through the smoke as it disperses, and a large group of Fletcher units stand among the remains of their fallen brethren.

"Let 'em have it!" shouts out Wes, opening fire with his Plasmarattler. Chi follows suit, and together they take out several dozen of the robots before they can get off one shot.

"Commander, we have to leave now!" Chi shouts over her shoulder.

"Just hold them off a bit longer!" the woman shouts back. These scientists knew what they were doing! Such a tough security grid is years ahead of our own technology, so many decades ago. If this is any indication, this 'Drake' must be a hellish fighter.

More Fletcher units poor in through the door, firing their energy weapons. A few of the shots hit, but Wes and Chi's personal shields dissipate the blows. They keep firing their Plasmarattlers, mowing down the Fletcher units as they walk into the room.

An energy blast hits Chi directly in the face, causing her to step back in surprise. Her personal shield glimmers in front of her for a few seconds, and then falls apart, leaving her vulnerable.

"Oh shit!" she exclaims, before another energy blast catches her in the chest and sends her to the ground. A gaping wound, instantly cauterized, mars her chest, and she is instantly dead.

"Chi!" Wes exclaims. He continues to fire his Plasmarattler at the robots as energy blasts eat away at his personal shield. His shield finally glimmers and falls apart.

"Crap!" he curses. Then he notices an energy blast that will just barely miss him, but is flying right at the woman, working furiously at the terminal.

"Commander!" he shouts out, jumping in the path of the blast. It hits him in the back, leaving a deep wound. The woman stares in shock at her fallen guardian and life-long friend as he falls into her arms.

"Wes…no!" she exclaims.

"I'm glad…I could protect you, Katy, my friend," he groans, "Give those bastards-" he coughs up some blood. "Give 'em hell…for me. And for Chi." He falls from her arms to the ground, dead.

Looking up, she sees the Fletcher units cease fire and advance on her. They're trying to capture me? She turns back to the terminal and continues to type at the keyboard, hoping to release Drake before it's too late.

He is just now pushing himself up and getting a look out of the tank, wondering why he is still inside it. His eyes open wide in shock as he sees the situation that is unfolding.

The robots get closer and closer to Katy, who keeps trying to break through the security of the terminal. Flawless. This security is flawless! There's no way to open the tank! Katy realizes as she types, her head-mounted computer scrolling ceaseless information in front of her.

Drake, noticing the Fletcher units get closer to this unknown woman, obviously trying to save him from those who pursue her, comes to a decision then and there. Clenching his hand into a fist, he charges against the wall of the tank, smashing through it with inhuman strength. Reinforced glass shatters everywhere as Katy whirls around to stare at this man. So strong! The Cybertitration experiment was indeed a success!

He keeps moving forward, smashing his fist right into the eye of a Fletcher unit about to grab Katy. The robot collapses to the ground in a heap of metal behind Drake as he halts his forward motion.

Drake looks over his shoulder at Katy, his deep blue eyes full of kindness. Strange eyes…for somebody like him…

"Looks like you could use some help, miss," he says in a quiet voice.

Turning his attention to the Fletcher units still advancing on them, he runs forward at an inhuman speed to the nearest robot. He smashes his fist into its head, and then races forward to the next one before it even collapses to the ground.

He darts through the swarm of robots like a knife through butter, not even stopping when one manages to fire off an energy blast at him at close range. He twists around the energy blast at the last second with inhuman reflexes, turning it into a spinning back kick, and knocks the robot's head clean off. He darts off to the next one without so much as blinking.

At one point he's surrounded by several of the Fletcher units, and they fire at the same moment. He jumps up into the air, twice his own height, executing a backflip. The energy blasts knock into the robots, dissipating against their exoskeleton. Drake lands on the ground, spinning around with a kick as he does so. He takes out most of the robots with that single kick, then whirls around, swinging his arm, smashing the heads of the remaining robots with the back of his fist.

As the dust settles to the ground once more, Drake stands in the midst of dozens of wrecked Fletcher units, a head or two still rolling across the ground and some limbs still twitching. He doesn't have a single scratch on him.