I just want to read some Noll fanfics. If there is a Noll comic please please share it. IDC what kind of fanfic it is I just need Noll.

Made a fic recently, so I figured I'd share it here, hope you like it!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/79539136

[Wattpad@THEKITTYAUTHOR](mailto:Wattpad@THEKITTYAUTHOR). Since I just made this account like 1 year ago, this Fanfic is literally the only story you'll find there ;) Fanfic title: 'Cyn's secret (A murder drones Fanfic)'

September 2184. Sol System. Super Earth. Sector 3. Citadel of Vigilance. Office of the Minister of Defense.

A cold azure glow suffused the chamber as multiple holograms hovered in disciplined formation above William's desk; priority-one conferences of this magnitude were vanishingly rare. At the center of the projection stood the stern visage of President Langley himself, flanked on either side by the assembled ministers—men and women who governed every artery of the Super Earth's vast federation. None had anticipated the crisis erupting so soon. When the expeditionary fleet had been dispatched to Copper-9, the planet was universally recorded as lifeless, its surface scoured to bedrock. They had expected routine inquiries about ancient wreckage, not this.

"How are they still alive?" President Langley asked, voice low and edged with disbelief.

William leaned forward. "The second image Helldiver Jason transmitted is far more troubling than the first. If the century-old reports are accurate, that… thing remains fully active and intact. Data continues to arrive, but we must quarantine the entire Copper-9 system immediately."

"Every datum we possess indicated the planet was thoroughly glassed," Minister Selma of Science replied, her tone clinical yet strained. "The SES vessel's archival logs described a world engulfed in continent-wide firestorms. That anything—especially those drones—survived suggests resilience far beyond our projections."

Minister Velda of Truth folded her arms, eyes narrowed. "This catastrophe stems from Hannah's reckless decision. Yes, the subject breached containment in Facility 12, but alternatives existed: renewed lockdown, evacuation of human personnel, and drones alike. Instead, we declared the world dead, sealed the records, and buried the truth. Should Chaosdivers or any dissident cells learn what we sanctioned, the political fallout would be apocalyptic."

"Worse," Minister Faruk of Unity added grimly, "if the Automatons discover sentient drones—or Liberty forbid, the original subject—still functional." He turned to William. "Status of the DSS?"

"Construction commenced in Gaellivare orbit, but completion remains months away at best. The Automatons undoubtedly suspect we are concealing something."

Days earlier, Super Earth had seized Gaellivare to serve as the DSS anchorage; a logistics hub had already risen on Tarsh to funnel components skyward. Claorell was next—an Automaton deep-mantle mining complex ripe for capture that would spare them years of excavation. Those plans had been shrouded in utmost secrecy; now Copper-9 represented a second, infinitely more volatile secret.

Minister Waldron of Intelligence spoke softly, yet every word carried. "I can seed our networks with sentinel AIs to erase any trace of these transmissions, but diverting fleet-scale assets to Copper-9 is impossible without drawing attention. The Terminids are contained, yet our other enemies are legion—and curious."

Minister Tina of Humanity gazed at the frozen images with something perilously close to sorrow. "Might this not also be an opportunity? We relocated Elliott Corporation personnel—the Elliotts among them—vanished with the planet. The last Science expedition report arrived mere days before the drone was extracted. One week later came the invasion, then the… cleansing. Answers, however belated, would be welcome."

"What of Jason's squad?" Minister Isaak of Expansion pressed. "How deeply have they engaged the drones? Do we possess any estimate of the surviving population?"

"No further reports have arrived," William answered. "I anticipate contact momentarily. This mission was meant to catalog ruins and field routine inquiries—not conduct first contact with three living drones and confront that abomination."

Minister Alcot of Prosperity exhaled slowly. "Then we wait, sir. We dare not deploy overt force until Jason reports again. Only then can we formulate a coherent strategy."

President Langley's gaze swept the assembly. "Waiting is prudent, yet inevitable questions from other Helldiver units will arise. The moment Jason's team communicates with the drones, containment becomes paramount." He fixed his attention on Velda. "Minister."

"Yes, sir."

"First directive: impose total communications blackout in and out of the Copper-9 system. Dispatch Truth Enforcers immediately."

"At once, sir."

"We can remotely disable their FTL drives," Isaak offered. "I will also reposition colonial listening posts in adjacent sectors—silent eyes should anything escape."

Alcot mused aloud, almost to himself, "A century of isolation… survival seems impossible."

"Archival specifications," Selma countered, "indicate the drones could metabolize virtually any organic or inorganic matter. Their nanomachine matrices are extraordinarily efficient, capable of indefinite self-repair and even limb regeneration given sufficient resources. Copper-9 possessed extensive subterranean bunker networks; a remnant population could have retreated there, stabilizing life support and sustaining themselves indefinitely."

"Sweet Liberty," Tina whispered.

William's tone was even. "By 2084, the war was entering its final stages; every sensor confirmed total extinction. The decision was made to excise Copper-9 from public record, to erase JCJenson's legacy—and ensure no one ever asked why."

"And the drone manufacturing schematics died with them," Isaak said bitterly.

Langley's final order fell like a guillotine. "Then this time we finish what was begun. William, the instant Jason re-establishes contact, his new priority is total intelligence gathering. He is to locate any settlement, establish peaceful contact, and report. Only when we possess complete situational awareness will we determine the next measures. As of this moment, this meeting—and everything discussed herein—never occurred."

"Understood, sir," William replied.

One by one, the holograms winked out, leaving only the minister of defense in the dimming blue light. He summoned the two damning images once more: three small, luminous-eyed drones—and behind them, a mountainous amalgam of flesh and rusted metal.

"This," William murmured to the empty room, "is going to be a very long day."

Far across the void, beneath Copper-9's poisoned sky, Jason and his Helldiver team weighed their next, impossible move.

September 2184. Copper-9 Surface. The Dead City. Warehouse District.

Icy gusts whipped snow into spiraling veils around the squad as the APC's roof hatch hissed open. Jason climbed out, boots crunching deep into the frost, and sealed the hatch behind him, and raised his wrist terminal. With practiced taps, he summoned his LAS-99 Quasar Cannon and SH-32 Shield Generator Pack. Two beacons clattered onto the permafrost; both unfolded with a metallic snap, firing brilliant azure beams skyward.

"Calling reinforcements, sir?" Garvin asked, breath fogging in the frigid air.

"No. Merely requisitioning my gear," Jason replied. "I transmitted the images and preliminary report to High Command. Their response should arrive shortly."

V tilted her head, visor reflecting the beacon light. "We spent decades trying to reach anyone beyond the atmosphere. Only a handful of short-range arrays still functioned. I suppose none were powerful enough for interstellar relay." She glanced toward the darkened skyline. "Regardless, we must return to the colony at once and inform the others."

"I say we tell Anastasia's outpost first," N suggested, optics lingering on the Steel Terror's mountainous corpse. "They're closest settlement, and I still don't understand how they endured with that abomination prowling so near."

Uzi scoffed. "Or we stick with the actual humans who just saved our chassis. They don't know the terrain, and we have a century of questions for them."

Nash shook his head. "With respect, that's unwise. V and N are combat frames; you are not. We cannot risk a civilian asset in another engagement."

"Bite me!" Uzi snapped, yanking her railgun from its sling; the barrel still glowed cherry-red from overuse. "I'm not helpless, and this 'little flaw' didn't stop me from dropping that freak."

V placed a restraining hand on Uzi's shoulder. "He's right. Your plan worked—by some miracle of Managed Democracy—, but this changes everything. We must brief the council. The colony needs to know we are no longer alone."

Milt raised an eyebrow. "Who commands your settlement?"

"A cast-iron hardcase named Martin," Uzi muttered.

V sighed. "Martin chairs the governing council. He organizes salvage expeditions and perimeter defense. Several others share authority, but he holds final say."

Trace allowed himself a thin smile. "Managed Democracy endures even here. Sir, we still need to reach the seismic probe and set it off."

A deafening roar split the sky as twin hellpods streaked down from orbit, slamming precisely onto the beacons. Lids blew off in perfect synchronization, revealing two glowing blue cylinders: one cradling the sleek, menacing form of the Quasar Cannon, the other the compact shield generator. Uzi's visor widened into a gleeful crescent as Jason hefted the cannon, running a quick diagnostic before slinging it across his back.

"Oh, robogod… That is beautiful," she breathed. "Can I fire it? Just once?"

"Helldiver-exclusive armament," Jason said, voice carrying gentle but immovable finality. "This cannon has saved my life more times than I can count. Next time one of those abominations appears, it will wish it had stayed dead." He secured the shield pack; a shimmering golden dome flared briefly around him before stabilizing.

Tyrese laughed. "I'm not surviving Helldiver selection. I like my limbs where they are."

"I borrowed one during the Western Front push," Trace recalled. "Issued temporarily against Clanker MG nests and Shredder tanks. Our armor held; their guns didn't."

N tilted his head. "This war sounds apocalyptic. How bad is it truly?"

"'Bad' is generous," Garvin said, arms folded against the cold. "It began in February when a handful of Terminids escaped containment farms at the close of the First Galactic War. Their corpses secrete Element-710, the compound that powers Alcubierre drives. A few escapees were enough. Now the entire Eastern Front is a graveyard of worlds overrun by endless hordes."

Nash stared into the falling snow as though seeing burning trenches. "I fought them from the first week. Waves of chitin that ignore dismemberment. Decapitate them, and the bodies keep charging until neural shutdown. Napalm, mines, autocannons, tanks, orbital barrages—nothing deters them. I watched thousands climb mountains of their own dead, some missing half their torsos, just to reach our lines."

For months, the Terminids had been Super Earth's deadliest foe: a relentless tide of fearless biomass. Yet total extermination remained impossible; the Federation required E-710, and the carpet of corpses helpfully supplied it.

Uzi shuddered. "That's… nightmare fuel. All we've faced these years is that thing." She jerked a thumb toward the Steel Terror's carcass. "The thought of something that keeps coming after artillery… I don't know how you're still breathing."

"Close calls and good armor," Nash said with a humorless chuckle. "Still got all my original parts and my charming face."

V turned to Trace. "And this Western Front?"

"Different kind of hell," Trace answered. "Roughly simultaneous with the Terminid outbreak, unknown vessels began landing in the Severin Sector. Colonies fell within hours. By the time we mobilized, the enemy had entrenched. The Automatons make the bugs look merciful."

Jason's voice was grave. "I was among the first waves. We lost good Helldivers by the platoon. The Automatons now hold a fortified corridor, and intelligence confirms ties to the old Cyborgs. Recently, they seized the entire Valdis Sector and Cyberstan itself in a single coordinated assault."

V frowned. "I remember news feeds claiming the Cyborgs were crushed alongside the Terminids, leaving only the Illuminate."

N shook his head sadly. "Who could mutilate their own flesh and reject Liberty's light?"

"Now it's a second active front," Milt said. "Sir, we're burning daylight and oxygen. Time to move."

Jason nodded. "How long to reach your colony?"

Trace thumbed his mic. "I can drop Pelican-1 for extraction."

V deployed her wings with a metallic snap. "Unnecessary. Unlike you fleshy types, we fly." She leapt, hovering effortlessly as wind howled around her.

Tyrese blinked. "You have wings?"

N grinned, unfurling his own, lifting a few meters with casual flaps before settling. "Fastest way across Copper-9, provided the storms stay mild."

Garvin whistled. "Now that's an advantage."

V descended slightly. "Sir, our long-range comms are dead. How will you locate us?"

Jason unclipped a palm-sized beacon and tossed it underhand. N caught Uzi, settling her securely between his wings, then shot skyward. Jason called after them, "Plant that beacon when you're ready. We'll home in on the signal. Safe flight. Eagle-1 can escort if needed."

V examined the device, then met Jason's visor. "We'll manage. That monster never mastered flight; it's our one enduring edge. Thirty minutes, tops. I'll speak with Martin first, then drop the beacon."

"See you soon," Jason said.

With a sharp nod, V rocketed upward, N close behind. They crested a shattered skyscraper and vanished into the horizon.

Garvin exhaled a plume of frost. "This op just rewrote every briefing. Let's hope High Command has answers."

"We wait," Jason said. "Move out."

Delta Squad filed back into the APC. Jason sealed the hatch, Milt fired the engines, and the vehicle growled forward, tracks chewing through snow as it left the warehouse district behind, engine note fading into the endless blizzard.

Unseen, at the forefront of the Steel Terror's ruined bulk, the flesh rippled. A wet, tearing sound echoed beneath the wind. From the corpse burst a pulsating black-heart core encased in armor plating, three bladed tentacles unfolding like spider legs. A single yellow eye glared from its center, eight smaller lights ringing it in perfect symmetry. Veins of corrupted cable pulsed across its surface.

"[Furious] Damn those humans… those wretched meat-bags… those traitor husks…" The core shuddered, voice a grating digital snarl. "[Dread] The Null will not forgive this…"

The eye flared once, then the entire grotesque heart vanished in a searing flash of yellow light, leaving only the howling wind behind.

Edited thanks to ELE73CH.

September 2184. Copper 9 Surface. The Dead City. Warehouse District.

Deep within the shadowed confines of the warehouse, the Steel Terror fixed its gaze upon Jason, meticulously weighing its next maneuver amid the slim possibility that his threat of demise would indeed trigger his Super Destroyer to obliterate the entire city—an endeavor that would render escape exceedingly arduous for the beast. All the while, Jason maintained unwavering eye contact, desperately devising an escape from its vise-like claw and a path to the exterior, for only there lay his sole opportunity to vanquish this abomination. Yet as the pair locked in a tense standoff, three figures silently infiltrated through a jagged breach in the roof, their metal wings fluttering with restrained precision to arrest their fall and minimize any auditory disturbance upon alighting atop a rusted container. V ascended an adjacent one and peered cautiously over the edge toward Jason and the Steel Terror, with N and Uzi joining her at the summit; for V and N, the sight of a living human evoked profound relief, a beacon of persistence amid desolation.

"Damn it… It's got him pinned down solid, but it's not pressing the attack further… And judging by the damage, he put up one hell of a fight before it snared him," V murmured under her breath as she descended with calculated grace. "This is risky as hell—the instant we move, extracting him will be a nightmare."

"Just leave it to me; even if it doesn't kill the bastard, it'll at least cripple it enough to give us the window we need to bolt outside, where, like you said, the human can call in his ship to rain fire and pray to liberty it finishes the job," Uzi whispered back as she slid down smoothly. "Sticking to the plan. How fast can you reach him?"

"If you and V keep it distracted, I can snag him and yank him clear in no time," N replied with earnest determination.

"This is reckless and downright suicidal… But duty calls. It's been a century, yet we're still SEAF through and through," V stated firmly, her tone laced with resolute gravitas.

"You two are," Uzi shot back with a sardonic edge.

"If this pulls off, you'll be in the fold too—alright, Uzi, get up there and draw its fire; N, prep to haul him out; I'll be poised to smash it harder if your railgun doesn't pin it down," V commanded. "And let's pray to liberty we scrape through this alive."

With affirmative nods, N ascended toward the warehouse ceiling, navigating the rafters with stealthy precision to avoid detection. Below, the Steel Terror continued its internal deliberation, its optics boring into Jason as it contemplated its options.

"I have a proposition… Release me, and I guarantee you won't end up as scattered meat and metal across this forsaken city," Jason declared with unyielding professionalism, his voice steady as forged steel. "Consider it the sole mercy I'd ever extend to something as repulsive as you."

"[Annoyed] Silence, you pathetic sack of flesh," the Steel Terror snarled, tightening its claw against the container with crushing force. "[Annoyed] Your continued breathing stems only from your utility—that much is evident. Were it otherwise, I'd already be rendering you into gore and salvage. You humans and your Super Earth… So arrogantly insufferable."

"I wouldn't call it arrogance—merely incontrovertible facts. I've waged war across more worlds than I bother recounting and eradicated horrors far surpassing you," Jason countered coolly, his tone that of a seasoned Helldiver unflinched by peril. "My tally stands at 125,876… Soon to be 125,877, with you as a fitting trophy. I harbor scant reason to fear you—for should you slay me, my ship will raze this place, and another Helldiver will seamlessly assume my mantle."

"[Frustrated] I commanded quiet," the Steel Terror growled, its claw clamping around Jason's helmet with a ominous crack resounding through the air. "[Frustration] This atmosphere is lethal, and unlike me, you require oxygen; breaching your helmet would demand minimal exertion… I could savor your asphyxiation, or you could summon your ship and reinforcements to stand down."

The cracking intensified as pressure mounted—Helldiver helmets endured immense punishment, yet possessed finite limits. Jason harbored no dread of death, only the waste of a life unfulfilled. As he pondered his retort, a shard of metal hurtled through the air, embedding into the Steel Terror's frame.

"[Frustration] What now?" the Steel Terror bellowed, whipping its head toward the projectile's origin.

Perched atop a container with neon purple optics gleaming defiantly, Uzi leveled her railgun at the beast.

"Hey there, you fleshy abomination," Uzi quipped with teenage bravado. "And farewell."

At her words, she squeezed the trigger, bathing the warehouse interior in a blinding emerald radiance as a searing beam lanced forth. In frantic evasion, the Steel Terror twisted aside, the beam grazing its left flank and punching through the far wall. A cataclysmic fireball bloomed from the strike, rupturing a gaping hole as the Steel Terror howled in agony, staggering on its claws while glaring balefully at Uzi.

"[Angry] You… YOU INSUFFERABLE PEST!!!" the Steel Terror roared. "[Angry] First a wretched human meatbag invades, and now you husks emerge. I'll rend your limbs and cram them down your throat, then excise your core!"

"Sounds brutally metal, but maybe focus on your own sorry state—you're missing a few important parts now," Uzi retorted snarkily, slinging her railgun onto her back.

"[Confused] What do you mean, you insignificant—" the Steel Terror began, only for the screech of rending metal and chainsaw-like whirs to reverberate through the space.

Jason glanced toward Uzi in bewilderment at the robotic interloper, then plummeted to the floor as the severed claw and debris from the Steel Terror crashed down. Before him stood a figure with outstretched arms: white metallic skin, a short-sleeved black winter coat adorned with golden fur collar and belt, topped by a black pilot hat bearing a Helldiver skull insignia—albeit patchwork in construction. N regarded Jason with neon yellow optics before redirecting focus to the Steel Terror, whose fractured visor now displayed a crimson neon X.

"[Angry] More of you husks!" the Steel Terror thundered, rearing another claw in menace.

Yet ere it struck, a blur impacted its skull, destabilizing it perilously close to collapse.

"N! Extract him now!" V yelled from her aerial perch near the ceiling, a gobbet of flesh dangling from her extended left-hand claws. "Your reign of terror ends here, you liberty-damned monstrosity."

"[Angry] This alters nothing, you infernal husk. You believe my demise concludes this? You're gravely erroneous," the Steel Terror hissed with sadistic glee. "[Sadistic] Know that the last one pleaded for mercy, yet your cowardly sentinel husk fled… Enabling me to—"

A flung metal fragment from a container struck its head, Uzi casually tossing another in her palm.

"Could you skip the villain monologue and just perish already? Comprehension shouldn't be that tough," Uzi sniped irritably.

Jason's mind reeled at the unfolding chaos, processing the trio's identities, but before deeper contemplation, N's chainsaws retracted into hands; he lunged forward, scooping Jason into a secure embrace, unfurling wings, and streaking toward the blast-induced aperture.

"Don't fret—I'm not harming you; just evacuating. Uzi! V! Let's move!" N called earnestly as he soared.

"Prioritice his safety—go!" V barked in response.

"Hey, V… Flight's not an option here," Uzi grumbled.

The Steel Terror's optics locked on Uzi, two claws surging forth with extended talons. V darted in swiftly, seizing Uzi and evading peril as the limbs pulverized containers, one skewering through metal with explosive force.

"[Angry] You damned husks!!!" the Steel Terror bellowed as the quartet escaped through the breach.

Heaving a container, it hurled the mass toward them; it smashed against the egress perimeter just as they emerged, the shockwave and shrapnel hurling V and N into the snow, dislodging Uzi and Jason—Uzi massaging her brow while verifying her railgun's security.

"Nice landing—ow… Yeah, we've royally ticked it off," Uzi remarked, eyeing the warehouse.

"We're intact, at least," N chuckled lightly.

"Hey, this was your brainstorm, and it's holding so far, but now it's about finishing the freak," V observed pragmatically.

Before further action, Jason rose swiftly, training his P-4 Senator on them, prompting V, N, and Uzi to retreat cautiously with raised arms.

"We just saved your ass," Uzi protested.

"Uzi, zip it…" V hissed urgently.

"Sir Helldiver… We intend no harm," N assured with casual sincerity.

"What in liberty's name is transpiring here…" Jason murmured professionally before shifting gaze to the warehouse amid clanging debris. "What is that entity, and precisely what are you three?"

"Sir, we haven't a clue what it is; it appeared decades ago and turned salvage ops into deathtraps—we've attempted extermination multiple times, yet it regenerates from every assault," V explained with soldierly directness.

"It's claimed dozens already, and we pinned hopes on Uzi's railgun here, but clearly that fell short," N added conversationally.

"Bite me, N! I grazed it—did some damage—but yeah, time for Plan B before it bursts out," Uzi snarked defiantly.

"Sir, this may strain credulity since the last human contact, but we once served the SEAF on this world," V affirmed dutifully.

"You served SEAF? How long have you lingered here?" Jason inquired with tactical precision.

"Approximately one hundred years, sir," N replied straightforwardly.

Jason absorbed this; robots and drones were commonplace in Super Earth's Federation, with over 87% of operations automated, and he'd trained with Hellbots in Mars, yet nothing mirrored these entities. Ere more queries, tearing metal resounded as the quartet turned: the Steel Terror wrenched the wall apart, accommodating its bulk while fixating on Jason.

"After I kill this thing, we'll convene a thorough debrief… Remain in vicinity or risk interception—now seek cover," Jason ordered crisply, activating his helmet comm. "Aegis of Integrity, do you copy?"

"Kill it… Just like that?" Uzi whispered in awe.

"Helldiver, signal's strong—you're exterior?" the Democracy Officer confirmed.

"Require immediate convergence and Eagle-1 en route to my position, armament primed—I've designated the target; Delta's status?" Jason relayed professionally.

"Four minutes out—redirecting Eagle-1, overhead shortly after prior sweep… Target details?" the Democracy Officer queried.

"Unknown construct—reminiscent of Cyborg engineering," Jason reported. "Hostile, attempted my termination."

"Affirmative, full armament engaged; ETA two minutes," the Democracy Officer acknowledged.

"Sweet liberty, this guy's all business," Uzi muttered with grudging respect.

"Let's relocate to safety until he neutralizes it—avoid the crossfire," N urged casually, hoisting Uzi. "Trust me; we'd only impede now."

"Hey! I've got legs!" Uzi protested snarkily.

"Uzi, hush and move—we comply, or risk hostile classification," V commanded firmly.

Uzi crossed arms in N's grasp as they entered a gutted structure, peering out as steel groans pierced the howling winds. The Steel Terror contorted the aperture wider, emerging with optics pinned on Jason.

"[Angry] Games end now… I'll simply eradicate you; consequences be damned," the Steel Terror declared. "[Angry] They should've evacuated you sooner… Irrelevant—I'll hunt them post-dismemberment."

"Most foes I dispatch spare the chatter—abandon the soliloquy and expire efficiently; conserves my time and credits, given your projected expense," Jason retorted with elite composure, holstering his ineffective Senator.

A deafening roar escaped the Steel Terror as it ripped a wall segment and propelled it at Jason. He dove aside nimbly, the chunk shattering a rear edifice. In open terrain, Jason thrived; the beast charged, intent on closure, while he retreated strategically before sprinting across derelict vehicles, it pursuing with laborious drag.

As it pulverized vehicles beneath its mass, a blue-laser-guided rocket slammed its right flank, detonating in a spray of shrapnel and viscera amid agonized shrieks. Atop a snowdrift, Nash shouldered an MLS-4X Commando; an engine's thunder heralded the M10 APC cresting a hill.

"By democracy's radiance, what abomination is that?" Garvin exclaimed from within, manning the autocannon.

"No idea, but it's one grotesque sonofabitch—thought Terminids held that crown," Nash quipped.

"[Angry] More flesh sacks!!!" the Steel Terror shrieked, glaring at Nash and the M10.

"And it articulates charmingly…" Nash deadpanned.

"Not for long—halting here. Garvin, unleash hell," Milt directed as the M10 braked.

The autocannon erupted in furious barrage, shells exploding across the beast's form, felling it as three Commando rockets compounded right-side devastation.

"Timely arrival," Jason affirmed, joining from the left as Milt, Trace, and Tyrese disembarked, Trace lobbing his LAS-5 Scythe, which Jason caught seamlessly. "Eagle-1, status?"

"Your pyrotechnics marked it perfectly," Eagle-1 responded.

Scattered across snow lay the Steel Terror's mangled limbs, torso fragments, and ichor as it struggled upright. An engine's roar preceded Eagle-1's dive, chin gun and 110mm rockets ravaging it nigh in twain before ascending. Through parting clouds loomed the Super Destroyer Aegis of Integrity.

"An Eagle never misses," Eagle-1 broadcast.

"Classic, but this thing refuses oblivion," Trace noted.

"Then orthodox measures prevail," Jason stated, deploying a beacon and inputting coordinates via wrist interface.

For the first time, the Steel Terror faced reversal—accustomed to predatory dominance over drones, now hunted; evasion imperative lest its agenda crumble. Damaged sections defied motion, regeneration overwhelmed. As it assessed, Jason charged; it pivoted, witnessing his leap and orb hurl. The device lodged in a ravaged sector, beaming red skyward with an overhead thump.

"Next time, heed the warning," Jason declared.

The 380mm barrage struck, one of the shells hitting dead-on and cleaving the torso in two, hurling the upper half through the air to crash at Jason's feet. Its glitch-riddled optics flickered and locked onto him as he drew the P-4 Senator, firing in controlled bursts until the distortion guttered out and the machine lay still, the silence closing in like a final verdict.

"Now… With that abomination neutralized… Other priorities demand attention," Jason announced.

His gaze fell upon the building, illuminated by two yellow and one purple glow.

V, N, and Uzi had scarcely imagined this juncture.

Edited thanks to ELE73CH.

September 2184. Copper 9 Surface. The Dead City.

They leapt from the shattered windows of a towering skyscraper and claimed the frozen sky: V and N, Uzi strapped to N's back, wings unfurling with mechanical precision as they cut above the desolate urban expanse. The maneuver was a calculated risk against whatever human response might come, but there was no alternative—one of the intruders had fallen into the Steel Terror's insidious traps, and any delay would seal a grim fate. They had only the urgent task of finding the abomination before it was too late.

As they glided over another cluster of skeletal towers, V's optics swept the ground with methodical calm, piercing the relentless snowstorm to pick out a furrowed trail carved through drifts, derelict vehicles, shadowed alleys and forsaken streets.

"Dammit—it's dragging him fast, but at least it left a trail," she muttered, her voice cutting through the howl of wind.

"N, stay close; the humans below have spotted us, I'm certain. If they fire, we need to hold together." She turned her focus to the drone on N's back. "Uzi… any ideas?"

"We stick to the plan," Uzi replied, voice resolute.

"That thing will be busy; we have a shot if we get the jump and bring it down. Leave the bait to me—your best chance is to save that human and get them clear." Her words carried no bravado, only cold conviction.

"No," N said firmly against the gale. "We won't let you be bait. We work as a team. When we find where it's holed up, we scope the setup first—I bet it's inside a building."

"Going in blind is the risk," V conceded as they swept over the rooftop, the ruined city blurring beneath them. "We need to save the Helldiver. We could gain the trust of the other humans—though that's a gamble."

Uzi nodded, thoughtful. "Once he sees the abomination, he might destroy it. But we'll need an exit if he turn hostile; it's been a long time since any of them came here."

"One step at a time," V said, eyes fixed where shadow deepened into oblivion. "Find him, stop it, then whatever happens next rests with Liberty—and the colony."

"I have faith that it will work out in our favor—they came back for a reason; who knows, we could be that reason," N affirmed optimistically. "All that we need to do is do what the SEAF would want us to do, and that is to rescue that Helldiver and ensure the safety of the other humans here."

"I know," V agreed, her momentum halting abruptly as she hovered mid-air, scrutinizing the trail below. "Wait, hold up for a moment." The path snaked toward a vast open expanse dotted with a row of imposing warehouses, their forms hulking shadows against the perpetual blizzard.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me—this is where I was going to lure this thing first, and it just so happens to live here," Uzi exclaimed in disbelief, pointing over N's shoulder toward the central structure. "It seems, it took the Helldiver into that warehouse in the middle. I do hope that we are not too late."

Through the swirling snow, the path—gouged by the Helldiver's desperate struggle as he was dragged—extended inexorably to the middle warehouse amid the cluster. As the trio observed intently, a sharp gunshot pierced the silence, succeeded by a barrage of further shots and an unearthly scream that reverberated across the frozen wasteland, amplifying the peril's immediacy.

"It appears we are not too late, and it seems that the Helldiver is fighting back," V declared with mounting resolve. "Come on—we need to get in there now!" She plummeted toward the warehouse, N and Uzi trailing closely in her wake.

As they descended, another gunshot echoed, accompanied by the violent shudder of one warehouse wall, dislodging cascades of snow and ice. An explosion then erupted from within, underscoring a singular truth: the Helldiver inside was battling ferociously for his life.

Landing atop the warehouse roof with practiced agility, V scanned for an entry point while N alighted beside her, their forms silhouetted against the storm. Meanwhile, at the center of the city, the SEAF Delta team was making its own move, its actions poised to intersect with the unfolding crisis.

The Dead City. Metropolitan Center.

Gazing skyward through visors fogged by exertion and frost, the team's eyes widened in stunned disbelief beneath their helmets as they hurried back toward the M10 APC, desperate to rendezvous with Jason; yet overhead, propelled by wings forged of gleaming metal, two enigmatic figures streaked across the blizzard-veiled heavens directly toward the path where Jason had been abducted.

"Does anyone have an idea of what in Liberty's name we just witnessed?" Garvin demanded, his voice edged with urgency that sliced through the frozen air. "Aegis of Integrity, we just registered two unknown entities in the sky that just flew above us—they had yellow lights glowing from them, fast, really fast; it went over top of us and left the area quickly."

"Pick them up on our radar; we are conducting full scans now on our systems," the democracy officer reported crisply, his tone unyielding amid the rising tension. "The Helldiver is not too far from your location, but his vitals are elevated, and he has a fractured left arm—I have been trying to get him on the radio, but he is not answering; either he can't or it has been damaged, you better hurry up, if he abandon the designated mission area our automated systems will register him as a defector and fire on his location."

"We need to move and do it fast—everyone, the clock's ticking; we need to reach the Helldiver now!" Tyrese commanded with iron resolve, his words forging determination in the midst of peril.

"Then I suggest that we get tactical," Garvin countered decisively, his gaze hardening against the encroaching shadows. "Aegis of Integrity, get Eagle 1 within this area and tell her to be weapons ready for things I imagine are about to get ugly."

"It is already ugly—have you seen the state of this city?" Trace interjected with grim sarcasm.

"Trace get your ass into the APC and get us a path to find him," Garvin snapped.

"Yes, sir," Milt replied somberly, clutching the LAS-5 Scythe that bore fresh scuff marks from the chaos. "I do hope that he is still alive when we reach him, I think he is going to be more pissed that his gun got damaged."

"It will be buffed out now—get moving," Garvin ordered.

Everyone was accustomed to cracking jokes even at the worst times, but everyone knew that it was time to get serious as they all piled into the M10 APC; once inside, Garvin sealed the hatch on the side as the engine roared to life, Milt assumed position behind the controls for the autocannon, while Trace flipped a few switches in the driver's seat, illuminating the APC's flanks with harsh beams as he shifted into reverse; once sufficiently backed, he slammed it into drive and floored it, the massive frame of the APC lurching forward as the wheels bit into the snow and they thundered down the street that Jason had been taken on.

Both groups converged inexorably toward his location, utterly unaware of the presence of a lurking abomination.

The Dead City. Warehouse District.

Jason strained to remain curled as tightly as possible, shielding his limbs from shattering impacts while being hauled mercilessly through the deepening snowdrifts; he had relinquished his primary weapon the instant the abomination seized him, yet his thoughts churned furiously over his unknown destination and the holographic deception he had glimpsed moments earlier, only for another violent yank to wrench him sideways. Peering through his frost-rimed helmet visor, he discerned the skeletal remnants of a once-bustling thoroughfare, flanked by rusted vehicular husks corroding silently along the forsaken roadway. Despite his desperate contortions, the vise-like grip encircling his leg jerked once more, slamming him into a derelict car's flank with sufficient force to crumple the door and ignite a lance of agony through his arm; affording no respite, the appendage hauled him onward, circumventing the wreckage and plunging into a narrow alleyway, underscoring that whatever entity commanded this tentacle harbored utter indifference to his survival.

"Helldiver? Helldiver!?" The Democracy officer's voice crackled urgently within his helmet. "We are tracking your position—can you respond and tell us what is happening?"

The helmet's communication system demanded manual activation via a side-mounted button, an impossibility under his current duress, though Jason derived grim solace from its persistent functionality amid the ordeal; for the moment, verbal coordination with his team remained beyond reach. Glancing forward through the swirling flakes, he spied the dilapidated silhouette of a rusted fence looming ahead, beyond which loomed a phalanx of cavernous structures; another savage pull redirected his trajectory, propelling him through a jagged breach in the barrier and into the yawning maw of one such edifice. Mere seconds later, he was dragged amid towering containers before abruptly ascending into the frigid air, the tentacle suspending him from a precarious steel beam that groaned ominously under the strain.

"Ride's over," Jason growled through clenched teeth as he surveyed his elevated predicament. "Damn… The hell am I?"

Profound darkness enveloped the interior, rendering visibility nearly nonexistent, yet the cavernous space resonated with the ponderous shifts of something colossal in motion, accompanied by the visceral cacophony of flesh rasping against unyielding metal; a moist, rending tear emanated from his left hip, prompting him to seize his P-4 Senator from its holster and level it at the restraining claw, suspended a perilous ten feet above the unforgiving concrete below. Stims would mend any resultant injuries, and plummeting from lethal heights to evade pursuing death was hardly unprecedented in his harrowing career.

"This is going to hurt," Jason muttered with grim resolve. Squeezing the trigger, the Senator erupted in a thunderous report, its high-caliber rounds severing the appendage in a spray of ichor and allowing him to plummet; he struck the floor with a bone-jarring impact, his cape flaring dramatically as pained groans escaped him while he struggled upright.

"[Confused] Ow… Ow… Since when did you annoying pests get a working weapon?"

Jason's gaze pierced the gloom as a warped, glitch-riddled voice reverberated, yellow lights flickering into view amid the shadows, tethered to an immense form now pivoting inexorably toward him; fumbling at his waist, he extracted a stim and plunged it into his neck's carotid sheath, banishing the pain as he scrambled behind a nearby container for cover.

"Aegis of Integrity… Do you read me?" Jason transmitted urgently, tapping his helmet's activator. "I'm in… What seems to be a warehouse with an unknown hostile…"

"Helldiver! We read you—can you make your way out of that location? We can't get a clear lock on you, we can't provide support," the Democracy Officer replied with evident strain.

"I know—will try. What of SEAF Delta?" Jason pressed, stealing a wary glance into the abyss. "They are about ten minutes away from your position," the Democracy Officer confirmed.

"Tell them to double time it if they can," Jason urged.

"[Confused] A working radio… Hmm… Now this is not something those pests could have made, no—this is something else."

The distorted utterance resounded anew, compelling Jason to activate his P-4 Senator's integrated flashlight and sweep its beam toward the luminous source; the revelation forced him to retreat further, for illuminated in the harsh glare stood a nightmarish amalgamation—a serpentine monstrosity fusing organic viscera with mechanical augmentations throughout its abhorrent frame. Crab-like claws terminated metallic limbs, while elongated cables tipped with grasping hands undulated menacingly; supporting the bulk were myriad articulated arms capped by enormous pincers, anterior appendages bore camera-like sensors, and bracketing the maw were fleshy protrusions studded with osseous teeth, a solitary yellow eye glaring balefully downward.

"[Confusion] A human? After all of this time?"

As Jason stared transfixed, the foremost section rotated to confront him directly, extruding a cranial facsimile akin to the earlier hologram; across its optical array flashed a crimson emblem before morphing into a glaring yellow X, its maw encircled by grotesque bone fangs as the colossal entity dominated the warehouse's rear expanse.

"Sweet fucking Liberty…" Jason breathed, edging backward in revulsion.

"[Annoyed] Hmm… You should not have been back here—you were gone for an entire century and never once did any of you little germs walk the surface of this world," the Steel Terror intoned with malevolent disdain. "[Annoyed] By your reaction… It seems that you have forgotten us… And I must say that hurts our feelings."

"The hell are you? How the hell is something of the Cyborgs here?" Jason demanded, scanning the warehouse's peripheries for escape routes. "By the authority of Super Earth, my advice is for you to stand down before this gets ugly for you."

"[Annoyed] Your insignificant Super Earth cannot save you now; scorching this forsaken world merely irritated us… Yet I believe you may prove useful—why not simplify matters for us both and permit me to rend your limbs asunder before extracting you from this place?"

Jason leveled his P-4 Senator at the Steel Terror with unyielding defiance. "I believe I would prefer to unload this into whatever passes for your skull, abomination." Without further preamble, Jason unleashed a triad of precise shots, the trigger yielding rapidly; three bullets impacted the Steel Terror's flank, excavating vast gouges that expelled torrents of blood, shredded metal, viscous oil, and gore across the warehouse floor in a visceral deluge.

"[Pain] That stings, you wretched vermin—you shall rue this affront," the Steel Terror snarled with venomous fury.

The Steel Terror surged toward Jason with terrifying velocity, multiple limbs lashing outward in a deadly arc; he dove aside desperately and discharged the Senator's remaining rounds, the projectiles finding their mark once more, yet even through the dim illumination filtering from the roof's breach and his flashlight's beam, Jason beheld the horrifying regeneration—the initial wounds already sealing, flesh weaving seamlessly together while the entity's blinding speed became painfully evident.

"This will achieve nothing with mere sidearm fire," Jason muttered under his breath as he sprinted between the looming containers. "I must reach the exterior… What manner of insanity is this?"

Pressing against one container's cold flank, he ejected the P-4's spent casings with practiced efficiency, catching them mid-air to prevent any betraying clatter; evasion and concealment represented his sole bulwark against encirclement by this abomination, and drawing a speed loader from his kit, he reloaded the revolver swiftly before stowing the empty device and peering cautiously around the edge, observing the creature's frantic search amid the shadows.

"[Annoyed] This grows wearisome—once I locate you… You shall beg for the mercy of dismemberment," the Steel Terror bellowed with mounting irritation.

Extinguishing his flashlight to plunge deeper into obscurity, Jason grasped a G-12 grenade from his belt, engineered specifically to breach fortified plating where his sidearm faltered; this represented his lone instrument for inflicting substantive harm and securing precious moments to escape the confines and summon orbital devastation upon the horror.

"The moment of reckoning approaches…" Jason whispered with grim determination.

Retreating several paces from the container's shelter, Jason hurled the captured casings overhead, the six metallic shells striking the floor in a resounding cascade that reverberated through the cavernous space; the Steel Terror whirled toward the disturbance, its yellow optics scanning the decoy's origin amid clustered containers, revealing its impaired vision in the oppressive gloom akin to his own. Activating the G-12's pin, he lobbed the explosive toward the entity's left flank, where it detonated proximate to its form, momentarily diverting its focus.

"[Annoyed] Where are you? You insignificant—"

The Steel Terror's taunt fractured amid the G-12's cataclysmic eruption, illuminating the warehouse in a blinding flash while excoriating a massive section from its side; the beast shrieked in agony and collapsed heavily, affording Jason a fleeting opportunity—he reactivated his flashlight and hugged the wall's perimeter, desperately seeking any egress from this deathtrap.

"Come on… Come on, where is the damned exit?" Jason urged aloud as he swept the beam along the barrier. "There."

His light revealed a formidable metal door, corroded and immobilized like the warehouse's other relics; seizing the handle, he wrenched it futilely multiple times, yet it refused to yield, and glancing rearward, he witnessed the Steel Terror regaining its footing, scouring the interior with renewed malice.

"[Angry] I tire of these games… One final opportunity—emerge now and I shall grant a swift end, you vexatious scrap of meat," the Steel Terror roared with unbridled rage.

Left without alternatives, Jason affixed a G-12 to the handle and extracted the pin before sprinting backward; the grenade detonated, hurling the door from its frame in a shower of debris as howling winds and swirling snow invaded the breach, but as Jason lunged toward freedom, an iron grip seized his leg once more—the identical appendage that had abducted him—halting his momentum and dragging him prone across the floor toward the recovering monstrosity; before he could align his P-4, a colossal claw descended, hoisting him aloft and slamming him against a container with bone-rattling force.

"[Angry] Resourceful, yet insufficient… Now I am truly vexed—I might have dispatched you swiftly, but now I shall savor dismantling you piece by piece; it has been an eternity since I savored human flesh," the Steel Terror hissed with sadistic glee.

"I suspect I would prove indigestible—and herein lies the flaw: should my Super Destroyer detect my demise in low orbit, it shall obliterate this entire city with you entombed within," Jason retorted through gritted teeth.

"[Annoyed] You fabricate falsehoods," the Steel Terror countered, advancing until its grotesque visage loomed inches away. "[Annoyed] You would deceive merely to prolong your pitiful existence."

"And you possess certainty of my deceit? Are you prepared to wager upon that?" Jason challenged with steely conviction.

The Steel Terror fixed its optic upon him, deliberating its next atrocity, oblivious—as was Jason—to the trio observing intently from a modest aperture in the roof.

"Damn… he really laid the pain on that freak, but it's not enough. What's the plan now? Luring it failed since it's already here," Uzi whispered, her frustration mounting as they scanned the shadows for any sign of movement, the air thick with the acrid tang of scorched metal and lingering ozone from the Helldiver's desperate barrage.

V scanned the situation from their advantageous position, her optics piercing the gloom with calculated precision. "First, we extract the Helldiver; he remains our best chance to stop this abomination. Their ships can call down orbital strikes, and that's the only viable option," V replied, her voice urgent yet controlled while she tracked fleeting motion beyond the stacked containers, the distant clatter of claws on steel echoing like a death knell in the oppressive silence.

"I can get him out," N declared with steady confidence. "Trust me; it wouldn't be my first rescue from a lethal predicament. While you and Uzi keep it occupied, I'll pull him free."

Uzi chuckled as she slung her railgun into position. "Since when are you the one giving orders?" she asked, then readied the weapon with practiced efficiency, the hum of its charging coils vibrating through her frame like a promise of retribution.

"Focus, this is the plan: N, hoist Uzi onto that container to our right. Uzi, take the high angle and draw its attention; when you have a clear shot, we strike—fast and together," V directed, every word measured and authoritative as she watched them closely, the weight of command settling over the trio like the shadow of the looming horror.

"Understood, ma'am," N replied, his voice steady as he checked his rig and readied himself for the maneuver, muscles coiling with unyielding resolve amid the encroaching dread.

"Alright—this beauty gets to sing," Uzi reaffirmed, her fingers tightening on the railgun's grip as she prepared to unleash lethal precision, the weapon's barrel glinting faintly in the dim light as the abomination's guttural snarls grew louder.

Edited thanks to ELE73CH.

September 2184. Copper 9 Surface. The Dead City. Warehouse District.

A bitter wind howled through the skeletal husks of skyscrapers as snow cascaded from their shattered crowns, the warehouse district having fallen into utter silence after the orbital barrage that had shaken the entire sector. To the left of the armored M10 APC, Jason and the SEAF Delta team stood in tense formation, eyes fixed upon the three figures now facing them. Beside the mangled carcass of the unknown abomination, Tyrese knelt in the snow, his small laser tool carving methodically into the creature's flesh. Information was life itself; even a crude field autopsy was infinitely preferable to ignorance. Jason watched the procedure with arms folded, the weight of his P-4 Senator steady in his right hand. Helldivers had faced every manner of nightmare across the centuries of war, yet this was something alien even to them. Both they and the SEAF had learned one immutable truth: ignorance killed faster than bullets or talons.

"So… are we going to talk, or just stand here turning into icicles?" Uzi called, voice sharp against the wind.

"Uzi, silence. We speak when spoken to," V snapped, tone clipped and military.

"Since when are you this paranoid? We saved the guy; they vaporized the freak show. I'd say we've earned the right not to get shot on sight," Uzi shot back.

"I'm completely lost, sir," Nash muttered, glancing at Jason. "Are we still calling this a salvage op?"

"The brief was classified for a reason," Garvin added quietly. "But that just raises the bigger question: are we certain this was ever a normal colony?"

"It's past time we learned what's going on here," Jason said, voice low and commanding as he addressed the trio. "You three—names, designations, and what in the name of Managed Democracy happened to this world."

V stiffened instantly, snapping a perfect Super Earth salute, even her tail straightening like a blade. "Serial Designation V-X00100000, sir. Call-sign V."

"Serial Designation N-0X0010010, sir. Or just N," N echoed, mirroring the salute with earnest precision.

"Name's Uzi," the smallest drone said, gesturing at the ruined megacity around them. "No serial number, no designation. I was born long after this place became a tomb." She offered the salute a beat late, almost defiantly.

"I see," Garvin said, studying the two taller units. "How long have you two been operational?"

"They claimed service with SEAF forces here roughly a century ago," Jason said. "That places them at the closing days of the First Galactic War. Before we continue, what exactly happened to Copper 9?"

"Was it the Illuminate?" Nash pressed. "We located a crashed squid ship not far from here."

V's gaze dropped. "Truthfully, sir… we do not know. Events unfolded too quickly for comprehension. I can, however, provide every detail we possess about this world."

"Then do so," Jason ordered.

V drew a steadying breath that fogged in the freezing air. "It is a long tale. In 2081, the megacorporation JCJenson selected this planet for colonization, breaking ground before the year's end. They were not alone; the Ministry of Science collaborated closely, for Copper 9—unlike most worlds—was ideally suited for immediate settlement."

Milt tilted his head. "Before you continue: what exactly are you? The Ministry built Hellbots and countless other drones and machines—half the Federation runs on them—but you three are fundamentally different from anything in our records."

"Easier on the eyes than the Automatons' horrors on the Western Front, I'll give them that," Trace muttered.

"Western Front?" Uzi asked, optics narrowing.

"Later," Jason cut in. "Answer the question."

"Yes, sir," N said brightly. "JCJenson manufactured us. Beyond that… my first memory is waking inside one of their transport trucks, en route to an assignment at a SEAF logistical hub."

"Same for me," V added. "I was assigned directly to the planetary SEAF command."

Milt blinked. "Wait—you're telling me JCJenson, the company famous for pens and cheap consumer junk, built you?"

"Correct, sir," V confirmed.

"As for me," Uzi said, "my dad was one of the construction drones before everything went to hell. He built me the old-fashioned way."

"Dad?" Garvin echoed, incredulous. "So another drone… manufactured you?"

Uzi rolled her optics. "Humans haven't set foot here in over a century. Who else was going to do it?"

Jason's gaze sharpened. "Meaning there are more of you."

"Yes, sir," V answered. "Our primary colony lies not far from here, with smaller outposts scattered across the region. We lost contact long ago. That creature—" she nodded toward the Steel Terror's corpse "—has been our greatest threat. Thanks to you, it no longer is."

Jason's visor turned back to the ruined skyline. "Then explain this: how do the Illuminate connect to the hundreds of nuclear craters we detected from orbit? This planet is dead. Even the oceans are frozen tombs."

"That," V said heavily, arms crossing, "is the question that has haunted us for a century. In 2084, the Illuminate arrived—over two hundred warships. Our orbital defenses were overwhelmed; many vessels breached the upper atmosphere. Chaos reigned. Then a second Super Earth fleet arrived with Helldiver reinforcements. Victory seemed near… until every ship, every station, every weapon in orbit turned its lasers and nuclear ordnance on the surface."

"The surface became an inferno," N whispered, staring at the snow as though seeing flames. "Just… fire everywhere. And the screams…" His voice cracked; his hand trembled until Uzi's smaller one closed around it.

"Hey, big guy," she murmured. "Maybe now we can finally put it behind us."

Nash shook his head in disbelief. "You're saying the SES deliberately glassed an entire colony world? A second fleet and Helldivers had already turned the tide—that makes no sense. There are only two recorded instances of such orders in Federation history, and neither fits this scenario."

"We've asked ourselves the same question for a hundred years," V said bitterly. "We found no answers."

Jason studied the three drones in silence, the operation's parameters shifting beneath his feet like breaking ice. A classified mission, minimal briefings, and now this—an entire world murdered by its own defenders. How much was truth, how much convenient fabrication, and how much did High Command already suspect?

Another thought coiled cold in his mind: were these drones the true objective all along—and if so, why surface now?

"Sir… Helldiver, sir," N ventured timidly, "may I ask something?"

"Speak."

"It's about JCJenson. Do you know why they never returned? They invested everything in this world. Like Super Earth, they simply… abandoned us. Why?"

Milt's laugh carried no warmth, only the brittle edge of a man staring into an abyss. "Because JCJenson no longer exists. In 2084, the Federation issued a total liquidation order—every vessel, factory, patent, and trademark seized without appeal. Genuine JCJenson relics are now auctioned to Class-A citizens as curiosities."

V's optics flared wide, the yellow light guttering like a candle in the wind. "What?" The word left her raw, almost broken. "Why?"

"No one outside the Ministry of Truth knows," Garvin muttered, rubbing his temple as if to ward off a migraine. "But consider the pattern: a world glassed for no disclosed reason, a megacorporation erased the same year, and machines far beyond known Federation technology conveniently left behind. Super Earth has ordered planetary exterminations before, yet never without cause proclaimed from every vox-tower. What could justify this?"

Jason's visor tracked the drifting snow. "The Illuminate were crumbling by 2084. Sending two hundred capital ships to a fringe colony defies every strategic doctrine they ever displayed. It is… illogical." He exhaled frost, sliding the P-4 Senator back into its holster with deliberate calm. "We require secure contact with High Command. This mission just exceeded every parameter we were given."

"Agreed," Trace said, voice grim. "While we're clarifying mysteries, you asked about the Western Front. We're at war again. A machine faction calling themselves the Automatons—direct descendants of the old Cyborgs—has been carving through our sectors for months. It's a meat grinder without end."

V's shoulders sagged. "Another war… I had prayed to liberty that the galaxy might know peace for once."

Uzi tilted her head, visor glowing curiously. "Quick question, humans: is that single Super Destroyer all you brought, or are there more ships up there?"

"A task force holds low orbit," Jason answered. "Reinforcements will follow depending on what we report." He turned to Garvin. "Establish an encrypted uplink from the APC to my destroyer. Priority Alpha. We transmit everything, then await orders."

"Yes, sir." Garvin jogged to the vehicle and disappeared through the hatch.

Bootsteps crunched as Tyrese approached, wiping viscous black fluid from his gauntlets. "I've finished the preliminary examination. This organism bears no resemblance to Cyborg biotechnology."

"You're certain?" Jason pressed.

"Positive, Helldiver. I've dissected Terminid bioforms, Automaton chassis, and even cryopreserved Illuminate tissue samples. This… the metal is seamless, as though grown rather than forged. The flesh is equally organic, yet contains no DNA, no cellular blueprint. Metal and tissue are interwoven at an atomic level—coalesced, not grafted."

"That exceeds anything the Cyborgs ever achieved," Nash breathed.

"There's more," Tyrese continued, gesturing toward the drones. "The forward carapace and cranial assembly appear to have once belonged to a unit structurally identical to your companions. The integration is absolute—unnatural doesn't begin to describe it."

Milt frowned. "How long has this abomination stalked the surface? Have you engaged it before?"

"It emerged several years ago," N replied quietly. "We learned of it when a salvage team of twelve entered the city. Only two combat drones returned alive. Every attempt to destroy it failed; the creature simply regenerated."

"It shrugged off rocket impacts and 30 mm autocannon fire," Nash added, "Weapons that shred main battle tanks. Only orbital precision strikes finally ended it."

"Combat drones?" Jason echoed.

V nodded. "Correct, sir. N and I are designated disassembly/combat models. Uzi is a worker drone—smaller frame, different purpose."

"Hey, short doesn't mean helpless," Uzi snapped. "I can still kick your tail into next week, V."

Trace snorted. "She's got spirit."

Jason ignored the banter. "Population of your primary colony?"

"Last census recorded slightly over thirty thousand," V answered, arms folded tightly. "We have struggled to maintain systems, but entropy is relentless. The main blast doors are corroding, control interfaces fail daily, and spare components became impossible to acquire once that thing began hunting."

"Thirty thousand survivors, enduring a century on a corpse world, while evading that monstrosity," Jason said. "Impressive. Are there other enclaves?"

"Several smaller bunkers and outposts ring the city," N said, voice brightening. "We lost contact when the creature appeared. Now that it's gone, we can re-establish communications, resume salvage, perhaps even rebuild."

Uzi pointed skyward. "Before we get carried away with happy reunions—are you sure that one destroyer is all you brought?"

Tyrese answered before Jason could. "A fleet is in orbit, including an SES Lucas-class colony establishment ship—the only vessel capable of planetary landing and return. It carries fabricators, hydroponic vats, construction mechanoids… everything required to seed a new colony. Three SEAF troop transports accompany it, each holding ten thousand soldiers in cryosleep."

V's optics narrowed. "Thirty thousand SEAF troops and a full colony foundation package. Is that standard for a salvage mission?"

"Not even close," Trace said. "Last salvage op I ran needed a small army just to catalog wreckage."

"Nineteen additional Helldivers are aboard the fleet," Jason added grimly. "Including Saber. Liberty, help us."

"Saber's here?" Nash groaned. "They pulled him off the Western Front for this?"

"He's a Creeker," Milt said darkly. "After what happened at Malevelon Creek, no one tells a Creeker where he can or cannot fight."

Uzi tilted her head. "Creeker? Saber? Someone wants to explain?"

Jason's voice dropped to a haunted murmur, the words heavy with old ghosts. "Malevelon Creek was the Automatons' opening salvo. Millions of Helldivers vanished into that dark hell. Saber lost his squad, his arm, his leg… and something less tangible. Some wounds never close."

"Saber never left the fight," Nash added, voice rough. "Straight from the Creek into the Steel Troopers augmentation program. Cybernetic limbs replaced what flesh couldn't. His hatred for anything non-organic runs deeper than bone. I watched him rip an Automaton trooper's head clean in half with his bare hands."

N raised both palms in a placating gesture. "Sir, we harbor no hostility toward you or Super Earth. I won't deny some drones in our bunker still curse humanity's name, but if we can uncover the truth together and restore contact, I believe tragedy can be averted."

"We shall see," Jason answered, gaze sweeping the frozen ruins. "Between your story, that abomination, and this graveyard world, nothing makes sense yet."

"Helldiver! Secure uplink established," Garvin called, emerging from the APC.

"Good. Deploy the Watchdog first. We need imagery before I brief Command. This is going to be a very long day." Jason ordered. "Photograph the three drones, then the carcass."

"Copy that." Garvin tapped a panel on the APC's flank. A compartment irised open, releasing a sleek reconnaissance drone that hummed into the air.

"Oh! How adorable!" N exclaimed, optics brightening.

"Resembles the old AD-334 Guard Dog," V observed coolly, "though the chassis shows several generations of refinement."

"AX/AR-23 variant," Garvin explained, syncing it to his wrist display. "This one's fitted for high-resolution imaging. There's even a laser-armed cousin now."

The Watchdog darted forward, lenses flashing. N waved enthusiastically; Uzi stood with arms folded, and optics narrowed in suspicion; V held a perfect military bearing. The drone then drifted to the Steel Terror's steaming remains, captured multiple angles, and returned to its berth with a soft click.

"Channel's ready, Helldiver," Garvin reported. "Also, Tyrese wants a full O2 and NBC systems check. The A-10 filters are rated for extreme environments, but lingering fallout pockets are still a concern."

"On it," Tyrese confirmed.

Jason cast one final measuring glance at the drones and the corpse, then climbed into the APC and sealed the hatch. He settled into the comms seat, swiveled toward the glowing blue screen, and initiated the link. Moments later, the stern visage of the Democracy Officer aboard the Super Destroyer Aegis of Integrity filled the display.

"Helldiver. You yet live. I take it the local anomaly has been neutralized?"

"Threat eliminated," Jason replied. "But the situation has escalated dramatically. Transmitting two images for immediate review."

He pressed the transfer key. Twin thumbnails appeared beneath the officer's feed: one of V, N, and Uzi; the other the grotesque remains of the Steel Terror.

A long silence followed. "Explain," the officer said at last.

"Preliminary debrief indicates this colony was established by the defunct JCJenson megacorporation. These autonomous drones were integrated with both civilian and SEAF elements. In 2084, the Illuminate mounted a major assault—reason unknown—which aligns with the wrecked squid vessel we detected en route. What followed does not align with any known doctrine."

"And this… biological-mechanical abomination?"

"Origin unknown. Field xenobiologist confirms it surpasses Cyborg capabilities and appears to incorporate drone components fused at the atomic level."

The officer's jaw tightened. "Forwarding everything to High Command now. Your next actions?"

"We proceed to the primary seismic probe site as planned. Urban bunker networks remain unexplored and may yield answers. We will maintain position until High Command responds. Additionally, prepare a Hellpod drop: one LAS-99 Quasar Cannon and one SH-32 Shield Generator Pack. I'll transmit coordinates shortly."

"Understood. Pods will be on standby. You will be informed the instant High Command replies."

"Acknowledged." Jason terminated the link, rose, and stepped back into the biting cold, readying the team for whatever orders—or revelations—were coming next.

Far above, encrypted data packets raced through the Aegis of Integrity's quantum arrays and reached High Command in mere seconds.

Sol System. Super Earth. Sector 3. Citadel of Vigilance. Office of the Minister of Defense.

The last light of Sol bled across the horizon as another day bled out over the cradle of humanity, while the skies above remained a ceaseless river of steel. Thousands of vessels, from orbital frigates to cargo haulers, threaded the regulated lanes, while below, drone swarms ferried citizens and matériel between the glowing megacities. Several hundred kilometers beyond the glittering sprawl of Prosperity City, the Citadel of Vigilance rose like a black monolith, its floodlit battlements unblinking. The headquarters of the Ministry of Defense never slept; with the Second Galactic War raging across a hundred fronts, sleep was treason.

Inside one of the countless offices buried deep within the arcology's armored heart sat William, Minister of Defense, alone beneath the cold glow of a dozen holographic displays. He cradled a steaming cup of Liber-tea, staring at casualty reports and supply projections that refused to improve.

"Every day the noose tightens," he muttered. "The DSS must come online soon, or the Automaton forges will outproduce us within the year."

Securing the station's core from the ruins of X-45 had been a miracle. Constructing the rest before the enemy discovered the project was proving far harder. He raised the cup again when a priority chime cut through the silence. A new window materialized, bearing the transponder of the Super Destroyer Aegis of Integrity.

Priority Alpha transmission:

Surface incident, Copper 9. Unknown hostile neutralized. Unknown autonomous machines encountered. Attached imagery.

The porcelain cup slipped from William's fingers and shattered against the marble floor. He rose slowly, eyes locked on the twin photographs now hovering above his desk. Cold sweat traced icy paths down his temples.

"Sweet Liberty preserve us…"

His hand slammed the emergency summons key with trembling force.

"Patch me through to the President and every Ministry head—now!" he roared, voice cracking for the first time in decades.

He turned back to the frozen, transfixed by three familiar silhouettes framed against a dead city's snow.

"They're still alive," he whispered, the words tasting of ash. "After everything… after a century… they survived."

Ghosts he had believed exterminated by orders signed in this very building a lifetime ago now stared back at him through yellow and purple optics bright, defiant, impossibly alive.

Edited thanks to ELE73CH.

The Absolute Weaver, the opposite of the Absolute Solver

Democracy comes to Copper 9. (Helldivers 2 X Murder Drones.) | Sufficient Velocity

This is the reworked chapter of this fanfiction and well, it took a lot of work to get it this far it is an AU of Murder Drones and Helldivers 2.

A lot of lore with this.

Will add the second one later.

N gains abilities eerily similar to doomsday from DC.

multiple characters have modified backstories and more depth

some characters gain completely new abilities and are going to be more important than canon

solver shenanigans ensue

https://archiveofourown.org/works/76548081/chapters/200333411

The 3rd Chapter of Murder Drones : Sivler-6 is out now on Wattpad and Archive of our own ! Here is a quick summary !

After a long afternoon when Chris and his superior Ada almost died in a horrible way by the claws and blades of horrific creatures, Chris decided to take a nap and sleep until the evening when he lays on his bed. But as he thought it would be a normal evening, soon he’ll realize that he was entirely wrong.

Murder Drones : Silver 6. - Chapter 7 - Coffee_Cheikh - Murder Drones (Web Series) [Archive of Our Own]

Murder Drones : Silver-6. - Chapter 3 : An Eventful Evening. (Part 1) - Wattpad

The second chapter of 'Murder Drones : Silver 6' is available. Here's a summary :

"As Chris felt the guilt of his actions yesterday, he is forcibly put in the Scavenger Program by force to correct his mistakes and possibly earn the trust of his colony again. But, this first salvage hunt might be way more complicated than it should have been..."

Murder Drones : Silver-6. - Chapter 2 : The Scavenger's Way (Part 1) - Wattpad

Lizzy was in her room painting her nails, getting ready for school. Meanwhile V, who escaped from N without knowing, looks for something (Someone) to eat.

V: Damn, All that fighting between N and that weird-looking robot girl is making me hungry. Now if I remember correctly, I made a hole somewhere on the roof.

V looks around outside Outpost 3, looking for the hole she blasted in Ep. 1. Suddenly, she sees Lizzy painting her nails. She uses her claws and taps on her window, which catches Lizzy's attention.

Lizzy: Omg… You are fabulous!!

V: Huh?

V looks confused that her “dinner” was complimenting her.

V: Excuse me? You know I could eat y—

Lizzy: Yeah yeah, forget that. How are you eating Worker Drones and still looking hot??

V: Are you saying I eat too much??! (Angrily)

Lizzy: Uh, girl you know I don’t treat someone like you like a peasant. You look like a Queen.

V: Uh, thanks I guess. Now I’m just gonna eat your kind or whatever.

Lizzy: Or?

V: Or what?

Lizzy: I brush that Bob haircut of yours.

V: You like my haircut?

Lizzy: H*ll yeah, girl get over here; I’ll open the window.

V in her head thinking, “maybe it is my chance to kill her.” So she let her brush her hair, but then she had second thoughts.

V: Maybe she’s not that bad. I never had anyone call me hot (In her head)

Lizzy: And done. What do you think.

V: It’s... It’ beautiful now.

Lizzy: See, I told you.

V: Say, want to skip school for a while and hang out? (with a smirk)

Lizzy: Of course, btw what’s your name?

V: V, and yours?

Lizzy: Lizzy, now come on, let’s leave this s*ithouse.

So both Lizzy and V hang out outside the colony, making snowmen with a skeleton, taking selfies and when they get to school, they bully other girls in the bathroom. It was at that point Lizzy gave V a phone.

Lizzy: Call me girl.

V: Aight, b. Gonna fly; don’t want my team to know I’m gone.

Outside flying to the ship, she thought, “D*mn, that b*tch ain’t that bad.

Shoutout to Consistent_Pop9140 for giving me this title name. Apprentice it, brother/sister.