First Love in Robotic Armageddon (Title Change Later)

In the year 2050, a group of scientist thought they found a way to cheat death. Scientist famous for artificial life and artificial intelligence found a way to create a semi-bionic fetus.

However, a failed computer virus created a form of artificial intelligence that created robots that can infect humans by inserting a chip that infects the brain. Basically; machinery grows into the muscles and takes over the mind; allowing for robotic reproduction.

That was 75 years ago...

The scientist were mutated and started to create an army. An army of homeless, drug addicts, and degenerates that were forced into becoming a a hybrid of man and machine. Programmed to forgetting their past lives and do nothing but fight when activated.

It took over 15 years for the army to be ready...

Humans have been battling cyborgs for 60 years...

Man... Is losing to Machine

The world is now a mess. A post-apocalyptic planet was now a collection of destroyed cities and flames. Tales of a mad scientist, rejecting human race forced himself into a mechanical body and created an apocalypse of robotic monsters trying to create a world to their vision.

More than 70% of the human race was eliminated, but the remaining are searching for each other, praying to find an army to stop this power-source, kill the men who created this hell, and restart a new life.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In a lab, surrounded by machine work, metal, and tools. The whole place was filled with shelves of spare tools and parts for his creations. Loud music played in the background, head-banding metal that drowned out the noises of other people working.

A young man with a pair of goggles on his eyes as sparks flew out of the arm he was working on. He used thick metal-working gloves and a pair of overalls. Though shirtless, he wore a leather smock to protect his torso. After a minute, he adjusted his goggles, extending them like a magnifying glass to get in the finer details.

His back was covered in old scars from past battles. His body was covered in grease, ash, and sweat, his back was stiff from being constantly hunched over a workstation. He just continued to work on the arm. A complex arm of wires and tubes with the ability to change shape. Though slightly rusted and covered in scratches; the arm is quite functional and great for battling.

It just needs a tune-up every once in a while.

The sparks stopped and the young man pulled a hidden lever to switch the hand. The lever back reveals the double barrel gun that shoots when the lever is pushed up. When the lever is forward, it extends a hook, a rounded tip used for collecting. If the level gets pushed down, two large javelin tips shoot out; available to stab.

"Agent Tanium? Agent Ty Tanium?" A male voice called out through the speakers. Again, he called out for the agent. The man pulled off the goggles before using his right hand to open a can of beer. The bubbles moved down his throat as the alcohol burned. "Ty? Are you down there in that stupid workshop?" He choked on the booze and tried not to spit it up. He chuckled under his breath before taking another sip.

"Dumb ass," he hissed under his breath before chugging his beer.

"Look, Code Cold Regiment! Got a pack of at least ten of them! Five miles out with possible human activity," He lost his joking smile. His hand crushed the tin can and tossed it into an old dumbwaiter. "Get your ass in high-gear. There could be more! Bring Agent Maggie Nesium and go!"

He unbuckled the leather strap around his left arm and detached a pincher arm. His stub arm was a healed, pointed stump wrapped with gauze. He pulled the leather smock off to reveal a tattoo.

A gear shaped pocket watch with a pirate skull and crossbones in the center. It still had the clock that was set at 12:34. His body was covered in old, healed scars of different variety.

He placed the weaponized prosthetic. The inner arm expanded, slowly wrapping around his shoulder and tightening so it wouldn't slip. When the arm was firmly attacked, a feeling of power jolted up his arm.

Tyler turned and looked at himself in the mirror. His dark brown hair was cut in a Viking style Mohawk. His sides and back were shaved down with a thick chunk that stretched down his head and to his shoulder blades. His tips and a few streaks stains a royal blue. His chin, upper lip, and sideburns were covered in hair and cut in a duck tail shape. His dark eyes grew cold and angry before a smirk formed from under his beard.

"Fine! Go on a solo mission if you must! Just get there!"

He hit a button on the wall, almost like flicking a switch. "Let me suit up. Prepare the exit," He ordered in a deep voice. His good hand was wrapped with a leather glove. He wore a pair of pants with a few extra pockets sewn in. Around his waste was a tool belt/holster hybrid with weapons, tools, and devices to help in battle. His shoes were metal toe combat boots with spiked cleats.

"Let's do this!" Be breathed.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A slow stride, moving across the turned over tar and jumped overturned cars. He looked around, taking in the familiar scene. The distasteful smell of smoke and ash mixed with the warmth, coming from the flames. Nothing unusual in this day and age.

The soldier cautiously moved across the ground, trying to make as little noise as possible. What used to be earth was wither destroyed piles of debris or overgrown nature; as if mother nature was trying to retake the planet.

"Agent Tanium. Contacting Agent Ty Tanium! Report!" Yelling into the earpiece. Finger pressed against the button hidden in his ear.

"Agent Tanium. Reporting from Old York."

"Any survivors?? Any willing souls to add to the resistance? What about Cold Regiment?" The male voice echoed from the other side of the ear piece. Tyler tried not to rip it out of his head

"No. Nothing so far. Old York is basically a wasteland at this point. I don't know why the rust you would-" He was cut off by the sound of a cry. A battle cry. A mix between a tennis cry, and a scream.

"Agent Tanium? Agent Ty Tanium? Come in!" Silence as he readied his arm; his two swords pointed and his hook hidden, Ty slowly moved towards the sound. "Ty! Answer me!" Again, silence.

Agent Tanium switched the lever; switching from his hooked hand to a double barrel gun. The annoying man continued to yell in his ear so he took the ear piece out.

Body pressed against a boulder, he took deep breaths as he prepared to fight. Then, he heard something.

"Take that laser lips!" It was a female voice. "Can't catch me!" High picked and feminine; his curiosity slowly started to grow. When an actual cyborg monster; a near seven-foot tall beast flung over his head and into a nearby concrete chunk; he was in complete shock.

The monster sparked and sputtered, it's mainframe and head split open from the sheer force. Then his eyes went wide before he ducked behind the other side of the rock.

His one hand over his good ear, a loud explosion came from behind the rock. The bot was destroyed. Countermeasure. His brown eyes peeked around and saw... something. A warrior? A goddess? He was unsure. All he saw was a young woman battling three more cyborgs with high confidence.

He saw a short woman with an almost childish, teenage body. Her chestnut brown hair hidden by a large, bunny-like mask. Her small body danced in the air as she took out several robotic monsters more than twice her size. She used their bodies to jump up and land hard kicks that would knock them down. No hesitation. No backing down. She was a fierce warrior.

So many years in an apocalyptic world; most humans should know the robots fight moves, but the power source always created new updated, allowing new moves. But these were different monster.

These monsters were demonic.

Pronounced spine, giant arms, claws; they were beast to be reckoned with. He couldn't move, all he could do was watch. His brown orbs were glued to the fighter.

She wore a light bronzed corset with a dirty and torn white blouse, vertical stripped black and white pants, her combat platform heels, a robotic bunny mask with unknown capabilities, and armor that wrapped around her shoulders, arms, and hands. Around her waist was a small, leather satchel that was attacked her her leg. She had two holstered weapons on her side but she didn't need them.

After a few more powerful blows, she pulled out a strange-looking device from her satchel and stabbed it into one monster head.

The device glowed a toxic green color, like energy from the monster was being pulled into it. The monster started sputtering, shooting out sparks from every orifice. It spun around, extremities moving in every direction; it looked like the robot was having a seizure. It continued for a few moments before finally collapsing.

He cursed under his breath, amazed at her technique. Never before has someone been so fluid on the battlefield. Never before has he seen something so tiny take down a monster. He wanted to know more about her.

Suddenly, one grabbed her by the shoulders, crushing her body in place and the leader formed a gun through his forearm.

His body acted on instinct and ran up, stabbing through the monsters metallic stomach with his blades before pulling them up, tearing the beast into thirds. The black and green ooze known as their blood spilled out on the ground, standing his bare chest as he watched her used the edge of her heal to suddenly shot fire.

"A rocket heel?" He was in shock. Only elite engineers or the romonsters knew how to craft such a device. To craft a rocket boot let alone a heel.

Her heel looked like a normal platform boot, but it was so much more. He saw the several booster jets around the edge of the bottom of the sole before two major rockets blasted her higher in the air.

Her petite body flew through the air and she came down, the robot slitting in half as she used her boot to stomp him down. Her face hidden behind the mask and her breath heavy.

"So tell me, what type of a survivor runs into a battlefield in heels?" He joked in a sarcastic tone.

"Tell me, what kind of survivor goes out shirtless?" She retorts, both of them walking around in a circle like an old western brawl. She gave off an aura of shyness and mystery. She looked nervous almost timid to talk to him. Her body looked weathered and tired. Old scars on her exposed arms and a copper metal armor dress with a gear rim. He extended his hook and smirked.

"Tanium. Tyler Tanium." He was in shock she took his hook.

"Oxide. You'll have to find out, Oxide." She gave off a light chuckle before clicking her heels together and a white-orange flame glowed from the bottom. Like a rocket, she shot up in the air and moved across the sky. His brown eyes glanced down, landing on the same USB weapon she stuck into his head. He pinched the device; a deep and amused chuckle escaped his lips.

"Oxide huh? What an interesting character," He looked up to see a pink-gold smoke streak, showing where she flew off. He had a new challenge as well as survival: discover the girl.