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“Fuck,” Echo hissed as he snapped his head back around the corner. God fucking damn it that was going to cost a pretty penny to fix up. Of course the killbots took aim and started firing, the warning had already been given after all. What the fuck had he expected them to do? Dance the fucking macarena for them? 

Noticeably annoyed if the partially revealed scowl was anything to go by, Echo hurried over and hopped onto his bike. He kicked it into reverse and spun the bike around before pausing for a moment to concentrate. The bots were probably fairly well shielded, but it didn’t hurt to try and disable them, however momentarily. Gritting his teeth, he twisted reality above the killbots’ position and slammed a powerful pulse of EM radiation into them from above. A bead of sweat fell through his broken helmet as another pulse manifested and crashed against the killbots, hopefully slipping through the minutest of cracks and frying something important.

With a few strained breaths, he gunned the engine and raced down the street. He didn’t know if his efforts had actually paid off, but if they hadn’t then he wasn’t sticking around to find out. Now then… how the hell did he get to the Rash’s from here?