Blood On Our Hands (Red vs Blue)

I Know I Have

I sidestepped quickly, my feet shuffling light across the floor as the automated opponent flung itself at me. I wasn't here to see if I could take the thing down. I was there to see how long I could last, and build back my stamina. It rolled a few feet before flipping and landing on it's feet, quickly coming back for me. It was more relentless than Iowa, and that's saying something.

I could feel my team's eyes on my back as the bot and I danced across the floor, my eyes never leaving it's slick, white face that creeped the hell out of me. I've never liked mannequins, not even when I was little. I'm sure there's a name for that phobia, but I'm not even going to bother with it. I flung myself over the small block that acted as an obstacle in my path. Not liked it worked against me.

Just mere moments after I stepped away from the blockade, the bot followed, mimicing my movements. I knew their programming more than most. They learn how to fight their opponent. Like how my old motion tracker did. It documents and analyzes each and every movement made, and adjusts it's 'style' to match -maybe even better- their opponent, whoever it might be. I didn't need Zeta to tell me that. If you're like me, just wishing to see how far you can go before calling it quits, this is the best way to go. It doesn't get tired, doesn't get exhausted.

It gets better as time goes on.

I'd absolutely hate my job if Innies started using them, that's for sure. I grabbed it's arm from the air as it tried to attack me again, flinging it several paces away, giving me the much needed pace to recover my stance. I could see the improvements since the last time I fought one of these guys. Back then, whenever it was, their learning process took much longer. This one's adapting by the second, picking up my signature style and using it against me. It's even closer to my style than Iowa could manage, and I hate it. Absolutely hate it.

I cast a quick glance behind me, my eyes darting around the rather small area remaining between me and the wall. I couldn't risk getting myself cornered, not if I wanted to last awhile in this match. I flexed my fingers, reminding myself not to keep them locked together for to long. I darted past the bot, my only objective being to get away from the wall and have more open space.

It grabbed my arm, trying to take me to the ground and finish the match like it was programmed. I didn't want it to end just yet.  I grabbed the same arm it grabbed me with, shoving it harshly away. It almost took me with it. I could feel its metal fingers slide off my arm, as if it was in slow motion as everything was happening. It recovered quickly, faster than a human could manage, and lunged once again at me.

I let my instincts take over this time. My foot picked up, off the ground, slamming against the side of the bot's head. I spun on my other heel before planting both feet on the ground once again. I could feel where the bot's head connected with my foot, a vibration of sorts running up and down my leg. Maybe I should have agreed to wear my armour, today. Remind me to never do that again, if I can help it. I took a few steps back, away from the mannequin-like bot. I wish they weren't styled like that.

I shook my head from side to side quickly, pushing the random thoughts out of my head, keeping my eyes opened. Focused on the bot. If I lose concentration, I might get taken down. And I couldn't have that. Not just yet, anyways.

I felt the thin layer of sweat on my forehead and back, a constant reminder of my time that I've already spent in the arena. Just a bit longer. Just a bit longer. I could see it in the way the bot moved that it's systems were adjusting even further to my style. It attacked me once again, it's feet basically flying across the floor. Why hell does it have to be so damn fast?

I saw it's right fist coming at me, but I saw the faint twitch in the mechanicle parts on it's left. I adjusted my stance, my fist locking around it's left elbow. "I'm fucking done with this," The words left my lips before I really had a chance to process them. I knew I was tired, but I didn't feel that tired. The bot dropped to the floor, limp, the light systems inside it shutting down. I looked up towards the observation room, towards Iowa and the others. Michigan held up a thumb, signalling that I was done for today.