[B]Act (a) - Heaven Will Direct It[/B]

"We really need to get this aircon fixed, bruh."

The sweltering heat was distinctly felt within the stuffy cabin of the duo's truck, and even the fresh air entering through the half-open windows was only minutely effective in reducing their discomfort. Although it was the middle of spring, with the hot summer sun yet still months away, the climate had decided to act against expectations, hence the rather warm temperatures afflicting Shikatsu. It was quite tolerable, and actually almost enjoyable, outside of their vehicle, but in a confined space with a malfunctioning air conditioner, the heat was incredibly irritating.

"Mmm," was the only reply he got from his 'bruh'. Of course, the other guy was busy driving their delivery truck down the suburban street, so he didn't really place much priority on chitchat. Their cargo had been marked as fragile and important, after all, and it wouldn't do if they let the goods be damaged before they successfully arrived at the intended destination.

Or crash into any schoolkids. That was important. With Japan's declining birthrate and aging population a growing problem, the less dead minors the better.

"Seriously, the bosses don't want to shell out for repairs to their trucks, but they pay like ... how much did each unit cost again?"

The driver sitting in the other half of the cabin hunched his shoulders, almost as if he was leaning over the steering wheel. "More than the air conditioner, at least," he said with dry sarcasm, though his voice seemed weaker than usual.

That was something that his friend picked up on.

"You alright bruh?"

A shake of the head. "It's nothing. Head just hurts a bit. Might be the bruise I got when one of the units' box fell on me when we were loading them in."

"If you say so," was the other deliveryman's reply. There was slight skepticism present upon his face, but otherwise he decided against pursuing the issue too far. "Still bruh, you're a bit more careless than usual today. Don't wanna damage those goods too bad, you know?"

"Air hasn't been too good for me. It's very stuffy."

That was a reply he could acknowledge. In fact, he too felt as if the atmosphere of the truck was really draining. The confined space ... the weather ... the severity of their job ... it was building together to be pretty demanding. When he got home, he was probably going to just take a break on the couch, everything else be damned. Staying inside their delivery truck for so long was really taking a toll. It wasn't even exciting. Nothing was exciting. He yawned. Everything felt like it was in greyscale or something.

"I getcha bruh. Really do."

No verbal reply. Only a sigh in response.

He shook his head, before turning his gaze out the window. There were lots of schoolkids on their way home (and was that some teenage girl knocked over on the ground? Ow, concrete pavement was painful, especially with all the scrapes it could deliver). Not surprising, given the large amount of schools in the area. Once they turned at the next side-street, however, they'd get away from all those kids who'd be doomed to suffer a droll, monotonous life as another cog in the Japanese system. He yawned again.

The weather was really making him sound like a cynical, crotchety old guy.

He heard his cargo shake for a second.

"Right, we're coming up on that street bruh. Just turn ri ...?"

They shot past it.

He turned his head back to glare at his friend.

"Hey, bruh, what are you even do ...?"

[url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1RBl_hH14w8]His friend wasn't driving.[/url]

In fact, his friend was simply resting against the steering wheel, foot still glued to the accelerator. The speedometer continued to increase in magnitude. They were going faster and faster. They had overshot.

"Bruh ...?"

The former driver's neck creaked, almost mechanically, as his face rotated to face the other man, cheeks still pressed against the wheel. Said man screamed. A mask, white and ringed with dull gold, was affixed to the face. A gleaming purple jewel sat upon its forehead. Strange, almost eldtritch markings had been carved along its edges. Most terrifying, however, were the two eyeholes, revealing to the shocked man his friend's eyes. His friend's dead gaze.

Lifeless eyes.

"W-w-wha-?!"

Fifteen thousand kilograms of metal and other materials swerved off the road, slamming into the wall of a domestic property with the terrifying shriek of bending and ripping steel. Witness screamed and recoiled. Shrapnel flew. The cabin had crumpled into an almost unrecognisable form, and it was clear to all what the sickly, vermilion liquid seeping out from the gaps truly was. A single tyre rolled through the street. Nearby cars halted before the sight. 

It was a wreck. A horrible wreck. Something hissed. The engine burst apart, engulfing the front part of the truck's remains with searing, orange flames. Its cargo hold, impact but bent, shuddered. Once. Twice. The sound of metal banging against metal resounded through the air. Bang. Bang. Bang.

Something cried. Like a shrieking cat. A dent appeared in the back door of the truck. Another dent. Two. Three.

It broke apart.

And through the smoke, a single [url=http://i.imgur.com/6Ymjd8O.jpg]object[/url] emerged.

Pale blue turned to sickly gold, the bright light of their "eyes" piercing through the black clouds that filled the air.

Two objects, identical in appearance, followed suit in tumbling out of the back of the truck.

Four more.

Eight more.

Sixteen now.

The number kept doubling.

Their "eyes" shut down. A second later, they rebooted, each and every single of them the sickly gold of the original.

Slowly and surely, the sixty-four strong fleet of small robotic vehicles rolled through the smoke and came to a stop in perfect formation in the middle of the street. The wreck of the delivery truck continued to smoulder behind them. And the forming crowd ... could only stare.