Prototype 2
The rifle jerked in her arms as she puled the trigger, roaring loudly with every shot she took. A rifle firing large custom caliber rounds was not something a normal human could use easily, much less an automatic firing the same rounds. Prototype could not verify whether her shots actually hit their targets however, as something heavy dropped from the sky straight onto her legs.
"Ngh!"
Almost instantly, she leapt up and away, keeping her profile low. By virtue of her own constitution, and the armor taking the brunt of the attack, she merely got away with a rather sore leg. Prototype could see now what just attacked her. A teddy bear, a very large teddy bear, armor and all, stood before her, wielding a greatsword like some sort of childish fantasy knight. Her helm displayed no signs of life or any sort of heat signatures on it. Something that was literally impossible considering that objects doesn't generally move on their own. She moved quickly, spraying bullets at it's general direction, before dropping off the building. As she fell she grabbed onto a windowsill, pulling herself up and into the building, where the narrow corridors and small rooms would hamper the use of the greatsword the bear carried.
"Boss. I've been found. One of them in close quarters."
"They're engaging you in close quarters combat?" There was a moment of silence, before Maxwell spoke again. "Then deviate to Plan C."
"Ok."
By now the town would be awake. Her rifle was unsilenced, the battle going on with the bikers, Ned, and the Champions would be in full swing by now, and there was a murderous teddy bear looking for her. Already there was some murmuring from the rooms near her, with one going so far as to crack open their door to have a better look at her. She fired a warning shot at them, the round simply tearing through their door and the thick concrete behind before stopping. The door slammed shut immediately, and the noise died down around her.
She did not need any distractions right now, not when she had someone trying to stick a greatsword in her.
Maxwell Donovan
Intriguing was an understatement when it came to describing the feed coming from Prototype's helmet. She had come into contact, however brief it was, with a walking, fighting teddy bear with no visible sign of a means for locomotion or movement. Was it something they call magic? He had to admit he was woefully inadequate when it came to magic and their ilk. Had always been a science person after all. Maxwell had tried to account for everything when planning the eradication of these... upstart inhuman dogs, but trying to account with these sort of shennanigans? As of now, his only real way of dealing with them, was to throw a lot of firepower at them and hope they die.
Probably should fix that when he had the time.
