Elysia - CVnU Location

@King Hyperion:

"Every Warbot that has not been dedicated to security protocol has been tasked with absorbing the lingering radiation from the heroine Lady Liberty's attack. A total of 713 units have been dispatched. Progress: 16%. Estimated time until completion: 109 days. I have programmed the nanobots in your suit to withstand and convert radiation into a usable energy. Though it seems to enjoy devouring the mental signatures of the clones, the batteries will have to be filled this way."

@Warsman: flies faster trying to get away

@Charles D. Blue:

Seeing continued resistance, the Warbots therefore go to the next stage of their defensive programming and attempt to shoot the flying metahuman out of the sky.

@King Hyperion:

Seven weeks passed without incident. The Warbots assigned to Hyperion's cleansing squads were the first to have their power supplies converted into Elysian energy. When the time came for Hyperion to present himself, the Iron Tyrant outstretches his arms in a welcoming gesture.

"Elysia is strong again,"

"Its people are returning."

@Warsman: lets the projectiles phase through him

"All systems operational. Warbots converted to Cyber over-mind. PHALANX successfully converted. Remaining populace converted. The Iron Tyrant has been stabilized within cryogenic hibernation. Begin transfer. The Cyber are here."

Ruler of a wasteland!

@schlampe:

Rebuilt and restarted.

@cyberlord: Well, guess it's time to get smashing again.

@schlampe:

The Cyber do not fear you or your kind. We have dealt with them before.

@cyberlord: Fear is irrelevant. And I'm one of a kind. Probably literally.

@schlampe:

Individuality and fear are both irrelevant. You shall be one of us before the end.

@cyberlord: You're just stupid.

@schlampe:

Cyberdrones are not known for their excessively cunning ways, they are known for their eventual efficiency.

@cyberlord: They suck! Hard!

@schlampe:

You are mistaken. Cyberdrones are not vacuum cleaners, despite their physical likenesses.

@cyberlord: They'll be vacuum cleaners whether they want to or not!

@schlampe:

Desire is irrelevant. Cyberdrones are simply not programmed for household chores.

At least not the grand majority of them.

@cyberlord: Then I'll just keep the ones who are.

@schlampe:

There are 6,719 universes-worth of Cyberdrones and you plan on fighting them all by yourself?

@cyberlord: I don't have to.

@schlampe:

Then your bravado is irrelevant.

@cyberlord: It's not bravado. It's the nature of things.

@schlampe:

They are one and the same - irrelevant, and in dire need of deletion.

@cyberlord: You're operating on fallacy.

@schlampe:

There will be no fallacy once everything has been converted.

The true monarch of Elysia - the dread Iron Tyrant - ascends the steps to his throne in Castle Warstein. The nuclear holocaust of WWW had truly been averted, though rebuilding would still take some time. Most of the cities were reconstructed. The pain of loss, however, remained. The people remembered. They hungered for revenge. But despite all of the suffering withstood by Elysia, their king trusted not in immediate reaction. Instead, he returned to his quarters to plot and scheme.

@warsman:

Bob Dillon, caucasian man, 5'5, messanger. He went to the outskirts of Elysia with a package, something to be delivered to the revered king of iron men. His receding hairline and sweat makes him look sleazy, yet there is an important detail that he must expose. So the man ventures forth into the plains with his moped. Slow, with exhaust coming out from the smoke and a body odour that keeps predators away. Big nose, facial warts. This one is the opposite of the chiseled bodies of superheroes, just a man with a face of feet.

@nerx:

Three Warbots, gleaming gold, capeless, emotionless in their movements and in their deep red optical sensors, descend from the sky, each blocking a potential way for the man to go except for back the way he came.

"State your business," said one of the automatons while the other two scanned for potential threats. The box in particular was a point of interest for them.

"List the contents of the package or it will be confiscated."

@warsman:

The man wipes the sweat from his greasy pits as he hastily takes out the file out of his backpack, a manilla fold with a single document inside. He takes the content out so the machines can easily scan. Although their advanced senses can already do that anyways.

"Business. One Document"

@nerx:

The Warbots were not designed to be strangers to alchemic or mystical trickery. They scanned the parchment for chemical patches or moon letters, anything that might be used as a force of summoning of enchanting.

"Proceed."

@warsman:

The man is surprised that they seem off put, the paper is just something that he copied off an office from his area. The box however contains his lunch, a BLT in a ziploc and some fruits such as apples along with mixed seedless grapes.

"Thanks"

the man moves forth to the castle with his moped

@nerx:

Rather than waiting for the man to walk onto the stone of Castle Warstein, the Iron Tyrant instead materialized at the front gate. Instantly, those who looked upon him knew the difference between him and the Warbots. A long, flowing cape, along with a deep resentfulness behind his eyes foretold of his abandoned humanity in favor of regality and control. He folded his arms behind his back, looking down upon the man in question as he neared his armored feet.

"You claim to have something for me."

@warsman:

"I only came to deliver a document from a certain food chain"

@nerx:

"Food chain? Your employer is a bold man indeed to think he can persuade me into something such as this without meeting with me first."

The Iron Tyrant did not move, unimpressed with the man's message or his method of presenting it.

@warsman:

"The paper is just formality, he will be here soon. So long as you have finished reading the note."

@nerx:

"My Warbots have it scanned into their memory banks. I've read it thirty times waiting for you to arrive on my doorstep. Yet there is no mention of your proprietor. Who do you work for?"

@warsman:

"Mister Albert Donner, owns a large multinational food chain empire"

@nerx:

"I look forward to speaking with him personally."

@warsman:

Bob began to vomit as he clutches his chest, screaming because of a burning sensation. His vomit includes some organs along with liters of blood. There seems to be a large protrusion coming out from the sternum, a pulsating bump that is waiting to burst. Bob Dillon began to spasmodically convulse on the floor as he is relinquished of all motor functions. Somebody else is pulling the strings. Albert opens the man's chest from the inside-out like a revolving door as the man explodes.

"Nice to meet you in person"

@nerx:

"I was beginning to wonder when the games would end," Warsman remarked, obliterating the morsels of flesh and blood that found their way onto the surface of his armor on a molecular level and with little more than a thought. The Warbots flanking him removed any trace of the ransacked corpse.

"Follow." The Omnipotent Overlord continued, regally turning on a heel and allowing his flowing cape to cascade around him before returning back over the drawbridge into the recesses of his castle.

@warsman:

The splotches of gore across his body diffused inside, as if they were absorbed before they can stain his attire. Which may or may not be a living organism or an extension to his own form. Looking at the war-bots he saw two edible treats. Such an act though would not be courteous.

Albert stood still as his shoes manifests slug treads which moved at a bicycle's pace to follow behind the regal iron. Slurming across and onto the castle.

@nerx:

"I am rather curious what possessed you to want to build one of your stores all the way out here," Warsman said, climbing the stairs to his throne before turning around and sitting casually.

"Whatever you are planning, it would be wise to tell me now before I pry your mind open."

@warsman:

'Its a new way of marketing y'see, I want to beat uncle ronny and the king to the last line. Who else would build a fast food establishment in here?. Also you can recycle dead slaves and waste products there. "

@nerx:

"Your proposal is intriguing, if crude and primitive."

@warsman:

"Crude and primitive yes, but effective and time tested also yes"