Chapter 67: Watch and Wait

The mighty mechanical beasts all aim their weapons at them.

Sharara's body immediately electrifies and Dara raises both his arms.

"You handle the defense!" commands Sharara telepathically to Dara as she launches towards the three mechs that all fire their guns and rockets.

Navigating narrowly through the many slow-moving projectiles relative to her, she chooses a robot to start attacking and lunges at it with full force.

A good distance before reaching her target, a powerful force launches her and a bunch of different objects flying away to the side.

Regaining her balance, she recovers quickly and looks at the beasts in confusion. The three of them pause momentarily as if analyzing something. They had combined all their electrical fields that interacted with their powers causing the force she felt.

. . . they manipulated the electrical and magnetic fields around them so that I wouldn't reach them . . . these things could pose a great counter for me should I go about this wrong . . . it's a battle of who is going to manipulate these two forces . . .

Sharara's mind races to find a solution as the mechanical beasts start moving towards Adora and Dara as a unit.

If only I was more proficient at controlling my powers . . . damn it!

Sharara rashly rushes at them from a supposed blind angle trying to go for a sneak attack.

Woosh!

The force field sends her flying again. The three beasts stop again as she crashes into the ground. Dara reinforces his protective barrier as a debris of nails, screws and different kinds of metals hit it.

The three synchronize a powerful current with all conductible and magnetizable materials, and even with Sharara's large mass relative to be normally affected by such forces, the force generated by them is strong enough to carry her mass through the interaction with her powers causing an interference.

People watching all this take place live . . . some present right there . . . and some through a scope . . . aimed right at Iza.

. . .

"Heh, so you are the one who interrupted my meal,"

"I don't recommend you do that,"

Aayn turns to the side with his gun, swiftly aiming towards the source of the voice.

"You must be Aayn, also known as Dead Eyes,"

Eyes?

"Why shouldn't I do it?" asks Aayn.

The man smiles, "That woman is not to be taken lightly, now that she does know about the existence of this sniper and its capabilities, she probably warned Iza about it by now. They are pretending to be off guard but the instant you fire that shot, you will realize that not only have you missed . . . but you also gave away where you are. She won't fall for the same trick twice," responds the man.

Aayn sighs, lowering his fun in disappointment.

"Oh, right. I believe you have something that is mine!"

Aayn nods, "Here," he takes out a pocket watch and tosses it over to the man.

The man grabs the watch and opens it, looking down at it.

"So, where is Zahtan? Why didn't he come?" asks Aayn.

The man rotates and takes a step back and forward, as if navigating something, "He couldn't come 'cause he is busy with other things and there are too many eyes here. Though, I wish he did this instead of me. He is somehow able to read this with a glance."

"Too many eyes?"

"Indeed . . . for example, you haven't noticed them but they stand close by, observing everything, and should they catch his presence nearby, it might end unpleasantly for him, and that another rat is probably somewhere observing as well."

"They? Rat?"

"Oh, you haven't met them? Interesting. Well, they go by Yara and Hami no– Oh! I got it!" he snaps his fingers. "Hm, I see. So, it's you and that. Alright, how are things going with my robots, I wonder," he muses, looking at the field.

Aayn turns his head and sees that Adora is up on her feet.

. . .

Adora watches as Iza starts walking away from the entire scenario.

He caught the scent . . . but it must be vague since he is navigating through it slowly . . .

"Iza," Adora growls angrily.

Iza stops, his ears twitching.

"Leave me some," she continues, baring out the armor's claws, "I feel like shredding them to pieces as well,"

Iza gets back to hunt again.

Adora faces the two pilots and the battle ahead of them, "You two, follow my lead!" Adora's armor begins to heat up as the fire neural-like link flames up to the connecting pieces.

Whatever tears she shed evaporated as she reinforced her will again.

She stretches her hands and body . . . a greater sense of control dawns over her as she can now control both instead of one being dead weight.

Twin flames spawn from the palms of hands, turning into two daggers, and she links the bottom of their grips to each other with a flaming rope like the one connecting her armor to her head.

Adora glares at the robots in front of them, her eyes sharp.

This will be a good chance to vent out and practice these new powers more . . . for my rematch.

. . .

"Separating himself from the herd," remarks Aayn.

"He is a prideful and more of a lone wolf kind of creature. He only ever obeys Kayn's orders fully and sometimes listens to Adora and is probably dead set on hunting you to the end of existence, following your scent and the sniper you have. Had it not been for Zahtan's equipment, he probably would have figured out where you are by now," explains the man.

Aayn hums, rubbing his chin.

"Well, want to get a move on or face him?"

He scoffs, "Not yet . . . I am underprepared to deal with monsters like him," he says, recalling his interaction with Charlotte.

Aayn turns his head, facing the man again, "I'll tag along. As long as you explain some things for me! I seek further perfection,"

"Sure! You can ask anything while we are on the way," says the man and Aayn starts walking through the debris, following him.

"What is it that Zahtan wants to do? As in, what is the end goal?"

. . .

"To finish what was started nearly an eternity ago,"

Aayn raises an eyebrow, "What was started?"

. . .

"Let me tell you . . . how the dark fall came to be," the man glances over his shoulder at Aayn, "The only experience you had for almost your entire existence."

Curious at those statements . . . the ashes of a dead self recently gone, return to his skin and beg to ask.

"Is it true . . . what's at the bottom?" they utter.

". . . you will come to find out. Do not worry," says the man.

. . .

"Who, who are you?"

. . .

The man shrugs, "Just your average Joe, you may call me—"