He watched the figure fly away from him. The armored child would regain her bearings long before he reached him, but without the flare gun he had had on her belt, he would be unable to contact anyone before he could get help.
Frankenstein dropped the flare gun on the ground and slowly crushed it underfoot.
In what was left of his emotions he felt a stirring of anger. He normally would not have bothered with this child. And the power readings he received from the armor was far from the level of anyone worth his attention. But the comparison analysis revealed something far more interesting than the power readings. The visual analysis was meaningless; young mechers almost always based their armor off of an older hero. But the circuitry was unmistakable, no matter how much he had altered it. This child, this fool, had stolen the work of her betters. Worse than that, he could not even take it to half the level that it deserved. He would pay for this insult.
He took a short step and launched himself towards the other mecher.
The world around him vanished into streaks of color. Somewhere in his body the images were being scanned for possible targets, but none of them would be of interest yet. This child may not deserve his attention, but the insult of his armor deserved to be removed permanently.
A notice appeared before his eyes. The child was fleeing. He had installed manual controls for flight, clever, but it would only delay the inevitable. He doubted most of her weapons had survived contact with his field, and any that had wouldn’t be able to pierce his skin.
He stopped at the crater. The armor had the strength of its origins if it could survive this well enough to fly. A reflective surface drew his attention and he held out a hand to draw it to him.
It was a broken visor; most likely the child had been informed of his habits and discarded its remains after crashing. It was a shame, but removing the sensors was almost as valuable as controlling them.
He closed his fist on the useless device until it shattered. The child was slowing down. He believed himself safer in the city. He was sorely mistaken.
For the first time in many years, he allowed his legs to operate at their true power.
The ground exploded beneath him and he slammed his fist into the armored child’s back. He was almost disappointed at the ease with which he was thrown deeper into the city.
Frankenstein took his time catching up, but the boy was only just making his way to his feet when he arrived. A slot opened up on the armor and a small weapon appeared. This child’s armor seemed slightly more resistant to his normal techniques than most, but it was irrelevant. He slowed to a walking pace as the child’s weapon fired rapidly. The darts bounced harmlessly off his skin.
To the boy’s credit, he didn’t let up as he approached. It was still foolish, but at least the boy was brave enough to stand at fight. Frankenstein reached out and gripped the weapon. Its spinning stopped and he quickly crushed the weapon. The boy quickly jerked his arm away before it joined the weapon’s fate.
It gave a satisfying crunch as he was tossed by the blow and thrown into the building behind him.
Frankenstein looked at his surroundings. The child had managed to travel impressively far in the short amount of time since the landing. It was nowhere near his perfection but impressive nonetheless.
He watched him struggling to his feet. The child’s armor would fail soon. A small display appeared in his eyes and the armor’s stress points made themselves known to him.
“Pathetic. I expected more from you.”
A true mecher could climb into another’s armor and use it at near capacity within moments. This one had obviously been wearing his armor for months and by all appearance could barely move it at all.
The exhausts at his neck allowed steam to escape; using his muscles at full capacity had generated more backlash than they should have. He slowly approached the downed mecher.
“You have taken the armor of your betters and made it your own. You have stolen the designs of those I respect. You’re sad attempts at heroism are a mockery to their names.” He stopped walking. “I will give you one more chance to remove your armor and leave this life. If you refuse, I will be far less gentle in doing so.”
The mecher stood before him in defiance. He could see the eyes moving beneath his…her armor. She was thinking, trying to find a way to fight or escape. Both were useless; only a few mechers had ever managed to shield themselves from his attacks. Most of those were dead, the last had relied on another’s powers to achieve the affect.
“You insist on refusing. Regrettable but expected. Please struggle, if you wish. If you refrain from fighting, I fear the lesson of your weakness will be lost on you.”
Frankenstein shot himself towards her. The girl would try to dodge of course, but her inability would just inform her of how superior he was.
Her feet had barely left the ground when his fist slammed into her shoulder. She spiraled away from him, and he watched as her flight system attempted to correct her course. She managed to achieve stability slightly quicker than he estimated. She stared at the destruction around him. He could see the fear in her eyes at the destruction his path through the city had caused. She stayed hovering above him. A lesser being would have sighed. She could have run or fought, but attempting to buy time by flying overhead was incredibly formulaic. Did she honestly think he could not chase her there?
“Flight. A silly dream yearned for by the young and foolish. But, alas, it would appear to finish our fight I must take to the skies as well.”
At a thought, hundreds of tiny engines beneath his skin sunk into place and gravity’s hold on him was removed. With the lightest gusts of air, he floated off the ground. Even gravity obeyed the whims of a perfect being.
“What are you?” The girl shouted. “Why are you so wrong?” He didn’t deign her ignorance with a response. Anyone who accused his perfections of being wrong did not have the capacity to understand the truth. And so he remained silent and smiled at her foolishness.
He ran a surge of power through his circuitry and moved behind her. To her, it may seem as if he simply vanished.
He decided to show her a small sample of his power. He held out a single finger and a small slot opened up. A small explosive shot out of his finger and hit her in the back.
He watched her rapidly fly towards the ground and crash through the street.
The dust slowly flitted around the hole in the street. He waited as it cleared, but a scream of pain rose from its depths.
He slowly lowered himself until he could see her through the hole in the ground.
He could hear her muttering something under her breath, but did not care to enhance the words.
He met her eyes under her armor. They were filled with fear.
The lesson was learned.
He lifted his arm and all five fingers revealed the slots beneath.