[h3]Silver Ghost [/h3]

Amidst a pile of rubble sat an almost pristine silver bot, currently having come in a possession of a cloth and wiping his beloved katana much like samurais of ages past. Had he been human, you place a straw hat and a cigar pipe on him and he'll look the real deal but sadly X-14766 CvT/PLQ/90 was anything but that.

His system clock reminded him that it had been twelve years. Twelve years since the fall of the world he was designed to protect. He had failed miserably and his comrades had fallen in battle. He was the last one, the last samurai, a ronin;now. Remembering it all made the cloth burn, wisps of smoke emanating from it as the katana slowly started glowing a lava red. He would have severed his fingers had not honed his sword more than a million times.

He got up and got moving. His sensors picking up a pack of scramblers, 12 of them. No doubt following the shots that rang out in the subway system before. About 10 minutes from his position, he rarely interfered in others fight. Live and let live had been his strange code after the war. But something told him that the oncoming fight would not be fair for atleast one of the parties. He'd observe for a moment before picking sides. With his mind set, he began moving in the direction of the pack.