94: An Eruption Of Emotions
Nyssa hated exercise. Among all of life’s activities, it sat the furthest from her favorite: sleep. Her legs burned, her windpipe felt raw, and her head pounded. In the past ten minutes, she had tried a variety of transformations—and all led to the sa result.
She had transford into a demon-like berserker, covered in a layer of tough, red scales, and blitzed the automaton. Though she had taken a lance to the shoulder, she tore the automaton apart, searching for so sort of core while blasting jets of fire out of her hands to lt as much as she could.
Even as her hands crunched the tal up into balls of trash, she watched as other parts of the robot reassembled, coming together like a water balloon in reverse. Parts began lighting up and glowing as threads of energy seem to pull the parts back together.
Once she leapt away, the machine ca together, whole once more without a speck of damage. It spun and twirled with the grace of a dancer. Pushing Nyssa to pause and for her jaw to drop a touch.
It’s definitely moving better, what is this? An adaptation chanic?
Before her mind could think anymore though, her body moved out of the way through an automatic response, dodging two laser beams and twisting downward to watch a punch sail over her head.
Bob. Weave. Back off.
Pressed into a close quarters fight, Nyssa, back in her human form, felt herself pressed into a corner. Even while employing transformations. Her muscles beca denser and denser as her eyes glazed over and feet began to dance through the battlefield. After a continuous increase, her figure began to blur, yet, through the whole ti, the robot matched her pace, speeding up as well and leaving afterimages behind each punch.
Explosions rang out as they navigated up and down the walls, left and right through the main battle area, and through the air. Nyssa managed to send a couple stray punches, so reinforced to push the automaton away, but nothing. worked. at. all.
Her breath hitched.
Her body swayed.
She felt her vision begin to blacken from the edges as snakes swam across her vision like predators looking for prey.
Crack.
A fist buried itself in her gut.
Nyssa fell to her knees and spittle ca flying out her mouth. With her stomach roiling, she had to press down a wave of nausea and light-headedness. Her hands trembled as she felt another blow graze her cheek.
A searing pain began burning on her cheek as she felt liquid begin to flow down her cheek.
“I... I DON’T WANT TO DO THIS! WHY? WHY ? WHY DO I HAVE TO DEAL WITH A STUPID MACHINE LIKE YOU?” Nyssa scread as the pain and light-headedness began feeding into a half-conscious delusion. She hoisted herself back upright, her eyes stayed unfocused as her hand shifted into a giant hamr, crashing into the automaton in a fit of rage.
The machine flew backward, slamming into a wall as its adaptation matrix fired up once more to repair its body. It stitched itself back together as nanomachines swirled back over its body, concealing and repairing any damage as if it had never been there.
Like before, once its body repaired itself, it crouched down and cocked its fist back. It paused. The lights behind its eyes flickered.
Go ti.
Jumping forward, it created a dent in the floor below as it rushed back into battle. It twirled in the air while extending its fist. Analytical systems fired back to life:
[Target seems to be weak.]
[No longer at full ntal consciousness.]
[Physical body bloodied and hurt.]
[Energy reserves of target estimated to be near zero.]
[Current adaptation cycle: Seventeen.]
[Previous highest adaptation cycle: Four.]
[Threat level assessnt: High.]
Nyssa took the punch. Her face scrunched up like dough as the fist collided with her cheek. In a fraction of a second though, her face elongated as the robot’s fist morphed into a spike. Blood splattered as the spike punctured through her face, coming out the other side like a skewer in a barbeque restaurant with lamb.
Nyssa’s cheeks, through bleeding, began to morph. They bulged and seed to bubble. Her eyes clouded over as her gaze sharpened. Teeth beca tal. Spit beca acidic. She bit down with the force of a hydraulic press, crunching the automaton’s hand.
Toss and turn.
Nyssa swung her head around as she amped up her physical strength. She slamd the automaton around like a ragdoll and stabbed her fingers into the sides of the robot. With a growl leaving her mouth, she forced every fiber of muscle in her arms to life and began plunging her hands into the robot’s interiors.
Her arms quivered, shuddering from the exertion as her muscle fibers tore. Energy in her body, for the first ti in close to a decade, began to run wild. Every second, a transformation would tear through her body as her consciousness began to fade.
I... just... need... to... beat this... machine.
A dragon transformation appeared with imnse strength and began crushing the machine. Its head morphed into a unicorn. The unicorn’s head exploded like a bomb. The bomb engulfed the area in a white-hot fireball. From the fireball's interior shone a crystal sending plasma lasers into the body of the automaton.
With every passing second, Nyssa’s humanoid body began losing its shape. Limbs extended from every part of her to grab onto the robot. Clinging onto it in any way it could. So limbs seed demonic, gifted with strength to clench onto the robot while crushing its exterior. Others seed magnetic, suctioning the robot to its palm. Others seed... desperate. Humanoid hands, bony with malnourishnt, clung onto the robot with weak twitches like a child seeking its mother.
Mouths began opening up across her body and hands. So vertical, so horizontal. So, even, multilayered. So with teeth, so with tal, so with flesh, so with a mix of all.
The robot laid limp in the grasp of hundreds of limbs. Immobilized, its computations and algorithm to adapt couldn’t move fast enough to recover from the damage coming in from all sides.
Acid burns covered its face. Ice spread across its chest. A corrosive shadow ate away at its feet. A swirling fla tore into its shoulder. Electricity flowed in from its backside. A hemisphere covered the back of its head, aging the material, rusting and cracking it.
Every part of its body suffered from so sort of attack. So could be considered rooted in reality, others ca straight out of movies, and others seed like the product of child-like fever dreams. Even more, each attack ca accompanied by chanical stress as mouths and hands tried to pull every bit of it apart.
[Error.. .. ... Error.... Er... genkhhhk-... cy.]
[Threat lev... el: Ex!~~e!]
The system began breaking down as entire chunks of the robot began disappearing into smoke. Grinded to dust by the no-longer comprehensible Nyssa, the light behind the automaton’s eyes flickered and faded. Nyssa, though, kept pushing.
Her hands could grab onto nothing but ash. Her attacks began landing on herself as she continued pounding on the space the automaton used to take up.
Guttural sounds escaped the many mouths covering her body. Crying, growling, howling, screaming, gibberish grumbling, whispering, coughing, hateful monologuing, and much more. Each mouth chattered with life as her body both folded in on itself and expanded outward.
---
Nyssa, herself though, felt herself floating in a pool of ink. It felt neither warm nor cold, but clung to her as she saw nothing but darkness.
Where am I?
Who am I?
What’s going on?
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