Target Practice (Open!)
Zouichi had heard about the Sensoriums from other people aboard the ship, and though he'd been a little apprehensive at first, had decided to pay them a visit. Or rather, he'd decided to pay Earth a visit.
After all, it was hard to go for a real ride on a disturbingly squishy ship.
If there had been any police left, he would have been pulled over for speeding and quite possibly reckless endangerment. But there weren't. What there were was vast expanses of jet-black concrete laid empty for miles ahead of him, honeycombing through levels of the massive megacity at insane angles.
So he punched it, hard. The motorcycle surged forward toward the city, its display ticking steadily past a series of numbers: 100, 200, 300...
Now he was blazing across the city connector bridge, rising quickly with the road as it extended upwards on struts held high above the level of the water that surrounded the old metropolis. Fuyu chirped an alert to him, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw the machine rising up seemingly from beneath the raised concrete, its thrusters a bright blue blaze in the reddening light. Zouichi slowed; it kept perfect pace.
It was sleek, newly manufactured. The model number 4-D was stamped neatly across one gleaming wing. As he watched, the shutters beneath both wings snapped open, revealing two long, wicked metal barrels.
Before him, the gates of the city yawned open. From here, he could see the beginning activity of the drones inside, shambling forward mindlessly in the direction of sound and perceived movement, searching for something.
Something they could really sink their teeth into.
After all, it was hard to go for a real ride on a disturbingly squishy ship.
If there had been any police left, he would have been pulled over for speeding and quite possibly reckless endangerment. But there weren't. What there were was vast expanses of jet-black concrete laid empty for miles ahead of him, honeycombing through levels of the massive megacity at insane angles.
So he punched it, hard. The motorcycle surged forward toward the city, its display ticking steadily past a series of numbers: 100, 200, 300...
Now he was blazing across the city connector bridge, rising quickly with the road as it extended upwards on struts held high above the level of the water that surrounded the old metropolis. Fuyu chirped an alert to him, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw the machine rising up seemingly from beneath the raised concrete, its thrusters a bright blue blaze in the reddening light. Zouichi slowed; it kept perfect pace.
It was sleek, newly manufactured. The model number 4-D was stamped neatly across one gleaming wing. As he watched, the shutters beneath both wings snapped open, revealing two long, wicked metal barrels.
Before him, the gates of the city yawned open. From here, he could see the beginning activity of the drones inside, shambling forward mindlessly in the direction of sound and perceived movement, searching for something.
Something they could really sink their teeth into.