[ .. EVERY DAY IS A NEW SORTIE ]

Another mission. 

This time, it was to kill five "metahumans." An odd term employed by H.Q., implied to mean they weren't explicitly spell-casters or wizards, though he would assume they still had scrolls of some kind. Nevertheless, all current weapon systems had the green light, suggesting a relative category of power amongst the impending victims to that of a higher tier sorcerer. That is to say they weren't akin to a street magician, but less dissimilar to a city vanishing warlock of some sort. Troubling.

More troubling is [b]Hayden Armstrong[/b] had not one or two but [i]four[/i] allies in this mission. Friendlies that he was not permitted to terminate and bring the corpses back for examination until after the main objective was complete. Highly unusual. They weren't even affiliated with headquarters, but were outside contractors of some type. This meant each and every one of them were disclosure risks, and would typically require their termination by default after screening for volunteer status. Still, adaptability [i]was[/i] part of the mission structure after all; Hayden had to come to terms with the facts not his preconceived notions. Five wizard-analogous hostiles, four witch-typical allies. Parameters were on lock. 

[i]wrrn WRRN WRRN[/i] rapidly emitted the rhythmic mechanized gears & gyros of a nightmarish robotic approximation of human form as it stepped across jungle brush. Lithe and smooth, it was a red machine standing at a mere 6'6", with enough weight to crush vegetation. There were many trees here; Brazil nut trees, rubber trees? Data was inconclusive. A six foot long "blade" composed of some red moving *matter* emitted from a handle base locked to the machine's right hand. There was no subtlety at play here, the code named [b]Knight Model[/b] had been deployed for this mission. The cyborg within began to eloquently compute with his machine's Intel Core i27-39000J CPU optimized for gaming:

[quote]Mission re-analysis. Based on the probability of mage-like victims coupled with the surroundings, it should be assumed they intend to abuse the foliage for obscuring movements and launching attacks. Possibly able to manipulate the plant life into treants. Likely scrying on our location. Further noted there is no line of communication short of verbal within proximity of allied entities, while the opposition are likely utilizing speech magic. Database shows wizard spell [[b]Message[/b]] exists, which will likely be employed before and during the spellcasters' ritualistic blood orgies for sating their deities in order to gain further magics. The scent of roasting meat can be detected on external sensors now, and is likely human in nature. Thus interrupting this ritual is advised.

However. Location and enemy means of information gathering are both well within expectations, and will be neutralized. Estimated chance of decapitation of hostile entities in face of Wizard Spell "Meteor Swarm" is 98%. "Time Stop" is dicier, but based on simulations sits at a respectable 52%.[/quote]

Rather than trying to run the outside of the area, Hayden was definitely walking down the "center" of the region. There was precious little being done to obscure his presence, to the point one would have to assume he was making his presence [i]well known[/i] intentionally. Despite medication to suppress the emotional inflections of [i]volunteers[/i], Hayden couldn't help but feel some of the adrenaline and regal nature of the swordsman whom his current movements were mapped around. Unnatural sword raised ahead of his helmet, left mechanized arm tucked behind his back; a pompous and refined posture for a machine that relentlessly crushed insects and split mud as it consistently moved ahead at an intentional pace. 

Wizards were like pack animals. They wouldn't forgive his intrusion into their, he assumed, sex and feed den for very long and would also attempt the most cowardly assaults from as much reach as afforded to them and in highest number, giving them maximized safety. Thus, every passing second was like waving the red capote in front of the bull, or staring down an enemy gunman with finger on the trigger waiting for the signal; [i]statistical noise[/i] that would suddenly solidify into destiny, stuffed to the brim with promises of peril .. and potential reward.

That burning question [i]he[/i] the volunteer had subconsciously imprinted, then: would it be the red knight that drew blood this day, or the [b][color=fff200]gold?[/color][/b]