One roof after another elapsed under the soaring bounds of the sky-colored mecha, each new block, a new area to analyze under the scrutiny of his sensors. Nothing of significant concern as of yet, at least not anything that, should Marx give an inordinate amount of attention to it, wouldn’t probably earn him a “headful” of advisements from NIS against wasting time on matters not concerning the mission at hand. All the while, NIS was directing him through his interior communicator, the mechanical spheroid acting as operator in missions like these.

[color=0054a6]You’re approaching the house. Don’t you think that [i]now[/i] would be an advantageous time to stop and descend to ground level,[/color] NIS suggested, now on the fourth attempt and close to giving up.

During a dash that ultimately enabled a long jump clear over a building at half the height of his jump off point and onto an even lower parking garage, Marx uttered a miffed series of beeps, then landing into a straight run between a packed row of parked automobiles of varying make and model.

[color=fff200]Aww, come on Marx…[/color] interrupted the voice of the two machines’ mutual benefactor, Dr. Oshiro. [color=fff200]We know that you drawing attention to yourself could discourage an attack from happening. But in the long run, it’s better if the attacker reveals itself so it can be stopped for good.[/color]

The A-ranked automaton pondered her advice, a line of consideration that ended with the astonishing advent of a red-haired hero wielding a sizable sword of uncommon appearance. Having landed in a roll and standing to analyze both woman and blade alike, Marx’s autons dispersed from their stations and circulated in a speedy flourish around him, then floating in a stationary position behind him, like swords in eager anticipation of their purpose. Aside from that, the robot simply tilted his head to the right minutely, standing perfectly straight otherwise.

[color=0054a6]There is no need for alarm. According to the Hero Registry Database, it seems that orga is filed under-[/color]

[color=fff200]“(Gasp) Red! Oh my gosh, it’s really her! And the Transistor, too!”[/color] Dr. Oshiro cut in, patching through to the robot’s speakers. [color=fff200]“Hey ‘Azure’, see if you can get her autograph! Red! I’m a huge fan and... hey!”[/color]

[color=0054a6]“I am very sorry, Doctor. But now is not the occasion for this kind of outburst. Time is running out,”[/color] the robotic operator said, attempting to remotely operate a nearby drone to gently yet sternly coerce her out of the lab until she calmed down. Meanwhile, on the roof, Marx as well Red were subjected to this exchange, the blue automaton’s right hand rubbing the back of his head, while, in the background, the sounds of a light, mechanically enabled struggle could be heard.

[color=fff200]“What’re you - wait! Red, I love yoooouuuu!”[/color] the young, starstruck cyberneticist called out before being pushed out of the room, her voice quickly dissipating, suggesting that she was going out of range.

[color=0054a6]“You have my apologies for the Doctor’s exuberance. She can get overly excited at times, particularly when it comes to heroes of the association. Greetings. It seems you already know of this particular robot, what you know as the Azure Automaton. He’s proven effective in combat, but less so in other aspects of hero work,”[/color] NIS acknowledged in his associates’ behalf, his unmistakably robotic voice patched through the gangly robot’s voice speakers. [color=0054a6]“He is responding to a series of assaults carried out by an unknown, but possibly nonhuman assailant. However, had the presence of a rank-S in the area been anticipated, he could have saved himself the exertion and left it to…”[/color]

As chance would have it, the operator’s explanation was interrupted yet again, this time by Marx, who could distinctly hear the screams of citizens emanating from a nearby park. The automaton immediately gave an alarmed whistle as he then bypassed Red and made his way to the site, finding park-goers in frightened awe of a large hole in the grass, a rim of dirt around the six foot in diameter opening in the earth. Despite whatever strange feeling came over Marx for not having all eyes on him for once, he peered down the mouth, the oddity looking more like a tunnel, with a clear bend in its course.

[color=0054a6]Could this have been made by the suspect? Do you think it might have seen you and retreated underground? Perhaps you’ve accomplished what you have set out to do after all...[/color] NIS offered to his companion, disappointed that Marx had probably mishandled this mission, but not at all surprised.

Yet, when the mecha departed from the unsettled onlookers, what might have started as a walk of shame grew into a mad dash towards the supposed target’s house, the man now on the home stretch in his jog.

[color=0054a6]What is the purpose of this! Marx! What is happening?! You cannot be serious!...[/color]

Objections be damned, Marx picked up the pace when the target came in sight, within yards of his dwelling. Right before the target could turn to the walkway, Azure snatched him off his feet, just as the entire front of his house blew apart, shreds and fragments of door, window and everything in between shooting out to the sidewalk and parts beyond, all to the menacing mechanical rowr of an unseen force. The mechanoid slid, him and his charge narrowly ducking under debris and invisible, curled inward mechano-legs alike, before resuming a sustained sprint down the street, followed by the monster whose only claim to existence were the street fixtures, poles, and parked cars it knocked away or crushed.

“Whaaa! Let go of me, you…!” The man said, then directing his distraught gaze over to an oncoming semi truck, the driver of which had already deserted the vehicle in favor of running for his life, requiring Marx to hastily vault over it. “Aaaahhh!” Next, he turned his sights to the cold, emotionless face of his would-be savior. “Aaaaaahhhhh!” He then peaked over Marx’s shoulder and beheld his autons firing searing red bolts of energy at what would appear to be nothing if it weren’t for them inexplicably making contact with something, each hit disrupting the cloak and allowing localized glimpses of an abominable, insectivorian war machine easily larger than a schoolbus. “Aaaaaaahhhhhh!” he screamed hysterically until he finally fainted in Marx’s arms.