In an dingy secluded basement laboratory somewhere under City-Z, computer monitors spread across a wooden desk in a fairly haphazard manner show live feeds from various points throughout the metropolis above, except for one screen near the middle. This one was different because it depicted a smooth yet erratically unpredictable course throughout the city from a first person point of view. Gaining speed, the camera saw its way through a chain fence and apparently over a car, muffled shredding sounds through the screen's speakers. And another car, this time a white transit van which toppled to its side before being passed over. 

A cinder block wall lay in the way to which the camera stopped before seeming to decide to that over the wall was preferable, the view aiming upward along the wall, climbing up and over to the sight of a street between it and a park. A weaving path a couple feet above the side walk, over the street and finally over the other sidewalk, it then zeroing in on a large oak, it appearing to engage in a corkscrew path along the trunk where it rested its feed on pedestrians in range.

Reticule over a mother and her two babies in a two-passenger baby stroller. [color=9e0b0f]Target: Negative.[/color]

A police officer passing by on his motorcycle. [color=9e0b0f]Target: Negative.[/color]

Armored Chief Clerk riding a segway. [color=9e0b0f]Target: Negative.[/color]

Now a good several meters off the ground, it looked down, observing a jogger with his dog on a leash ahead of him. The dog, a white great dane with black spots, diverted from the sidewalk and took a stand on the grass barking repeatedly at the camera, much to the aggravation to her owner who, despite even humoring her and eyeing the tree up and down, couldn't see what she was on about. After a few seconds of lightly tugging at her leash to encourage her to leave things alone, he began to more forcibly pull her away across the street, away from the tree.

As the video feed implied that the source of it was crawling off the tree and towards a new location to continue the operation. The man watching these monitors chuckled to himself in his hideout, shortly giving way to less composed laughter.

"Yes... that's it my creation. Soon we will get revenge on the fools who [i]dared[/i] to get in my our way!..."

[hr]
The black scarab’s carapace shined brilliantly in the light of the sun, as the insect laid still, for the most part, on the hood of a parked car. The vehicle’s dark reddish paint job made the insect stand out to the naked eye and even more so to its latest silent admirer, an emotionless white “face” looming over its rest. The beetle’s front legs moved about its head, grooming itself, supposedly unaware of the observer. Silently, a mechanical blue hand rose over the hood, delicately reaching for the scarab. With just a few slow centimeters left, success, whatever it looked like or would entail, seemed like a certainty.

[color=0054a6]Marx? What is your status? Have you discovered the whereabouts of the monster?[/color] a familiar voice inquired in his head, startling the robot’s focus leading to a sudden arm motion that alerted the scarab, which proceeded to spread its wings and flutter away, beyond the robot’s reach. All he could do was reach out in vain at the flying bug, a forlorn whir emanating from his “mouth” peice. Now standing, Marx’s head slumped a little. This search was proving more disappointing than he thought.

The search continued, towards the last known location of what was presumed to be the next victim on his way back home. Among the general sounds of car motors and occasional honking that usually overpowered the mass footfalls and numerous conversations that were at this point atmospheric of another busy day, another set of heavy, rapid steps could be recognized, those accompanied with the mechanisms and gears of a rather tall, blue robot who was only recently becoming a common sight in the cities, this city especially.

In between the colossal masses of shade given off by the buildings and businesses, a peculiar lanky shadow ran quickly, its owner drawing the bewildered gaze of commuters and pedestrians alike. Groups of people would move out of the way, most still on some level intimidated by his appearance. That may change should he perform more daring deeds and raise his hero rank. But for now, there would be trepidation in the looks he was given.

Marx, upon noticing a large crowd incoming, leaped off the sidewalk and latched onto the side of an office building, using it as a jumping point to handily reach the top of the building next to it, where he continued his course, his metallic, long-finned autons resting stationary on his back, save for a bit of rustling when he jumped and landed on the next building. Still, those who could be bothered to notice the blue machine or the shadow he projected would look up, kids pointing, a few people calling out or cheering at one of the Hero Association’s latest spectacles trying to be a hero.