main battle tank.
Not that it had the gun of a tank. No, as in, it appeared like Magos had taken an entire tank chassis and made it into the barrel of a gun…
…And- Saint noticed- it was aiming straight for him.
Adrenaline kicked in as he applied as much thrust as humanly possible- accelerating him past the speed of sound. At the same time, he turned the dial of his {Victory I} mech's Wing-Shield System to max. The wispy golden forcefields generated by the massive wings of his mech solidified until it was a translucent hexagonal aegis of golden energy between him and the massive tarantula artillery.
Then- without warning- the weapon fired.
* *fwissh*
But even after breaking the sound barrier, Saint found that it was impossible to dodge something moving at the speed of light. Just a massive column of blinding blue light as thick as a school bus lighting up the sky. Nothing but the sonic boom of air molecules being superheated in less than a nanosecond, and the succeeding sizzle of water vapour as it came in contact with said superheated air. Like a mirage, the column of light turning yellow and red as it lingered: a glowing pillar as it linked the oversized weapon's barrel to what seemed to be the sun itself behind him.
A pillar that had consumed the entire lower half of his armour below abdomen- leaving only molten metal edges of the torso's chassis where his mech's lower half had once been connected to. His most powerful golden hexagonal forcefield proving to be no obstacle at all for the massive laser weapon.
Then, following the laws of physics, the {Victory I} continued with its supersonic momentum- rocketing him far from any help. The cockpit lit up in red from the myriad monitors as the Suit warned him about all the ways that it was no longer working: the steering, the inertial dampeners, and worst of all the advanced communications suite that let him control the Dragonflight.
"SAINT!" He heard Mags shout through the comms.
"I'll be fine! It'll just be a rough landing!" He shouted back over the blaring warnings and as the G-forces pressed him into his seat, "But my capacity to keep controlling the Dragonflight is shot! Keep going- pour everything we have onto Magos! He and Dragon must not live past today! No matter the cost!"
But despite his bravado, Saint knew that the chances of dying from the landing was still very real. They had underestimated Magos and his industrial capacity. Their entire plan hinged on denying Magos from piloting his Knight-Atrapos, but who could have expected that he'd have an even bigger gun at the ready? And now he realised that they had a very real possibility of losing today. Magos and Dragon loose into the world without anyone any wiser of the dangers that AI posed. If this was going to be his last flight, he'll make it count.
"Are we going to post it then?" Mags whispered quietly. They had prepared a manifesto for something like this. For when it was time to pass on the torch.
"The world deserves to know." He stated firmly, "The world deserves to know what kind of a monster Dragon is. What we're trying to do today. What our story is!"
"Saint… I do not think they will listen." Dobrynja mentioned quietly. "Not while their city burns by our hand."
"We can only trust in humanity that they'll heed our warnings." He gritted his teeth as the evergreens of the American north-east and the impending impact grew closer and closer. "Just as we can only entrust the duty of defending mankind to the next generation of Dragonslayers!"
And with a press of a button, he activated the bot that would spread their message to the world's websites.
[Streets of Brockton Bay]
Nonlethal hit confirmed, Forgelord! Target desig. 'Rinky-Dink Micropenis Tinker Mech' forced to land. Anticipated LZ highlighted.
" Omnissiah be praised! Continue aiming non-lethally for the other two Dragonslayers, then proceed onto the Dragon Suits. I'll see if I can't arrange for his capture through some other means. It's bad PR if the Skitarii are seen kidnapping and/or executing people."
As you command, Forge lord!
As expected, the Dragon Suits seemed to disperse from above me and began flying away. The distant booms and sirens suddenly echoing out from the city telling me that the Dragon Suits have started destroying the city.
Without Saint directing Dragon Suits, they are defaulting on their original programming of engaging any threats they encounter.
Saint's changes to their usual Identify-Friend-or-Foe protocols, have them identifying everything that attacks them as foes instead. Like say a PRT trooper with a twitchy trigger finger.
PRT Forces now engaging the Dragon Suits. Airspace now relatively free- Chloes may now safely airlift.
"Chloes, the Dragon Suits are distracted. Commence the Archaeopter Airlift as soon as you're able." I transmitted to my manufactorum through the local Noosphere.
"Yes, Forgemaster! Lifting off now!" Chloe-1's prompt replied.
And as I eyed the trail of choking black smoke Saint left as he spiralled down to the earth, my info-phages notified me of some aberrant activity in the Noosphere. A long-silent account now reactivated. An automated system- a bot- began moving in a very obvious and very suspicious way.
"What is this?" I murmured to myself. "The Dragonslayers are attempting to post something on different websites? Don't they realise what they're up against?"
My myriad of info-phages took immediate notice of the adorable little bot carrying a heavy load as it headed for several sites at the same time. In no time at all, they ganged on it like a crowd of big tiddy Ara Ara oneesans would when they see a cute little boy going into their territory. The load that it was carrying was quickly yanked out of its little hands and handed to me while they dropped its shorts and took turns aggressively wringing it for all the information that it was hiding. Who sent it and why. Where did it come from and when did it leave. Not a single drop of information was left unextracted by the time my info-phages finished their work.
"Don't they know that the Noosphere is MY domain?" I murmured to myself as I read through their propaganda piece- shaking my head in disappointment.
Data-Interception completed…
The Dragonslayers should have known better!
I had spent the last month buying out rival IT businesses. In a world where cities regularly get set on fire, reliable internet was as good as gold- which the Mechanicus readily provided. I didn't even need 'tinkertech' for it, just a willingness to turn away profits in favour of Noospheric influence. 64.4% of all the internet traffic in Earth-Bet now passes through at least one server that was directly or indirectly owned by the Mechanicus. Almost the entire world was now under the ever-vigilant data-senses of my info-phages. No bot went unmolested- each one stripped bare by my ravenous info-phages for any anti-Mechanicus sentiment before they were allowed to go on their way.
I could just block the upload of their little manifesto altogether, but I had a better idea- one more fitting for the Dragonslayers.