Soup King beamed a holographic display of a 15 second countdown out of his eyes and began to move everyone across the room towards the caged [SPOILERS] and the comatose Olors
At the 7 second mark, Kaijin's land battleship stopped, because it ran out of fuel and one of the engines caught fire from the strain of moving so much weight through such difficult terrain.
At the 11 second mark, the land warship fired all of its weapons simultaneously, causing it to immediately capsize from the heavy recoil and unstable ground, causing considerable damage both from its sheer firepower and from barrel rolling over three city blocks.
At the 15 second mark, Kaijin emerged from the wreck of the KS What Do You Mean I Can't Name All My Ships Shirley? and began to run around the group whooping victoriously.
"How…how did he do that?"
"The same way that I can do this."
Soup King moves his arm behind Olor's incubator and a loud slapping sound can be heard, followed by Kaijin squealing in pain. Turning back to face him, the group find him grasping his butt and whimpering slightly.
"Cheeky rascal."
Meanwhile in the Spare Sam Sentre
"Do you believe this to be one of his tricks, Rhajamaut?"
"I could not say, my lord. Who can even begin to comprehend such lunacy?"
The mission was simple enough and the directions on how to get there were clear. Find where Soup King kept his Sam cloning facility and fiddle about with the memory transplantation device a wee bit.
At least, it was suppose to be.
The first issue was finding it. When they asked Nut Commoner, he just straight up refused and said it was best to leave it alone.
They then captured a number of Shitbots who were more than happy to chat about most things without any force necessary, but as soon as the Sam cloning room came up, they refused to elaborate any further and self-destructed when pressed on the matter.
Finally, as the two were beginning to get furiously frustrated with the task, a hoarse voice whispered the address on the wind, leading them to their current location.
"My lord, where do you think they have all gone?"
"A better question, I feel, is why he hasn't made any yet?"
The room did indeed appear to be one for cloning humanoids. There were cylindrical glass tubes about 8ft tall and 4ft wide, each filled with wires and tubes that looked like they could be used as a life support system for a person growing inside.
Every tank was empty and looked like they had been for some time.
Scattered about the room was numerous medical tools, gurneys and plastered on every surface were sticky notes, some very old and some clearly fresh.
Do not leave inactivated biologicals in the tanks.
Make sure all parts are accounted for.
Remember '94!
Blütgrindor stalked between the rows of empty cases, trying to work out what sort of trick the metal man was playing here. The building was well hidden, deep underground and not too far away from the city's cemetery. It was clear that this place was used semi-frequently, with the tools implying that it was used for it's supposed function.
"Rhajamaut, does this room seem too narrow to you?"
The pair of Undefinables ran their hands across the dusty walls, gently tapping them as they went.
About half-way down, Blütgrindor heard the faintest of changes in the sound. She continued her way down the wall until the sound changed back to what it was before.
Smiling to herself, she walked back to the mid-gap in this spaced and punched her way through the wall.
"I believe I have found the answer to this conundrum."
"Very good, my lord."
The pair proceeded to tear down the fake wall, kicking up massive clouds of dust which obscured everything in their sight. What greeted their eyes when the clouds subsided provided an adequate explanation for the behaviour of the Shitbots they had spoken to.
Before them appeared to be some sort of mausoleum, as cold and as dead as any old grave. The clouds of dust they kicked up clung to the damp stonework like morning mist.
In the centre of the room was a statue of two figures clasping hands.
One of them was clearly Kaijin, although in surprisingly lower tech gear than the girls were used to, and another figure which seemed to be some sort of warrior-poet.
The figure wore a helmet and a balaclava, with a guitar gripped firmly in his other hand and a trumpet slung across his back next to a primitive looking assault rifle.
On the helmet itself, was the faint outline of a "+" and the figure appeared to be wearing an apron over ancient army fatigues.
Despite the clearly positive message it was trying to send, the monument emanated a heavy feeling of dread and menace.
Beyond that was a far more worrying site though.
Standing almost 12ft tall and 8ft wide was an old, cracked set of stone doors in the gothic fashion of the late 18th century.
Scrawled all over the walls were protective wards from both the Church of Shirley and the Cult of the Circle. On top of this, there were layers of heavy chains barring the door which also seemed to have protective wards etched onto each and every single link.
Even from this distance, the Undefinables could feel the raw power of all this magical protection…and feel it flicker.
And the cracks on the doors….the cleanness of them suggested that this wasn't old damage…
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