Living Metal
January 1st, 2021, 8:08 AM EST
Memphis, TennesseeA simple ball of nearly solid metal sat within the gloom of a reinforced concrete room, little tendrils of wires running out from the ball to the surrounding computers. From there, via all sorts of connections, Living Metal watched through a thousand robotic eyes the United State's border with the Shattered Scar. Typically this job was left to a simple AI, but for now, Lincoln had assumed direct control while waiting out the night.
Unfortunately, sleep was not something that the metal montrosity known as Living Metal was able to acquire. For years now, his lack of a biology had robbed him of that gift, and it was indeed a gift in his mind, as there was always a nearly permanent sense of tiredness that pervaded his life.
In one of his many eyes, the Morning Show of 2021 came on, full of its ridiculously fake actresses and actors, nestled away in the comfort of Gotham City while hundreds of miles away, Lincoln had just lost two good militiamen to a monster incursion just yesterday. They had been completely and utterly ripped apart, nearly unidentifiable.
A soldier entered the room, adorned with a blackened eagle on his shoulder that signified the man as the right hand of Living Metal. Despite being Lincoln's Lieutenant, Frost couldn't be more than twenty eight, a compact Asian warrior that spoke simply as he raised his right hand in salute, "Plans for today, sir?"
"Training and typical border patrol."
"When are we going to get to move on the Scar?"
Living Metal returned control of the border sensors to their AI and retracted his tendrils, the metal of the ball flooding outward on the floor, building the seven foot tall humanoid robotic form he liked to maintain from the feet up until Lincoln strolled out of the bunker into the early morning light near a window, Frost close behind, "Not sure. Honestly, we're going to need far more men."
Memphis, Tenneesee was mostly a ruined mess at this point, situated directly on the Mississippi River that had mostly formed the border between the Scar and civilized lands. The Texas Rangers had converted much of the area surrounding a place once known as the Memphis Cook Convention Center into a heavily fortified stronghold. Looking across the strategically important Hernando de Soto Bridge towards an unusual pyramid missing most of its top, Lincoln could see even more Rangers on guard, surveying the area.
The Hernando de Soto Bridge was one of the more important ones leading into the Scar, but the war had certainly taken its toll. Much of it was beginning to fall apart and constant skirmishes on and near the bridge had damaged it. In truth, the only reason it still stood was because Living Metal was here to maintain it.
A supersonic crack like the thunder of lightning rang out from the pyramid a few blocks away, Lincoln's electronic eyes quickly following the laser that erupted from the pyramid's summit to a target on the other side of the river. A monster on the other side exploded in a confetti of gore, dumb or unfortunate enough to have approached the bridge, "Heh heh. Another one bites the dust. Just a few million, billion, or trillion more to go."
"Thanks to your equipment, of course, sir."
"Anyway, let's get a move on up to the roof. Rouse the pilots and get a trio of flyboys going, we're going to head back to Gotham, see if we can't round up some more soldiers for the cause."
"Gotham huh? I suppose there's always a bunch of a young men in need of work there."
Frost muttered something into the radio as the pair ascended the stairs, coming into full view of the Texas Rangers' trio of transport VTOLs that Lincoln lovingly called 'Cows'.
Already the three ships were firing up their fusion engines, pilots at the helm. As Lincoln boarded one of them, the montrosity motioned for Frost to stay behind, "Keep an eye on the place and make sure those cunts across the river don't get over here. I'll come back with as many men as I can fit in these damn things, probably in a few days."
"Understood, sir."
"Keep in touch." Lincoln waved the Lieutenant off and took his 'seat' in the Cow, fusing the metal of his body to the vehicle as the pilot gave notice they were taking off. Superheated jets of plasmatic exhaust streamed from the engine on either side of the craft as all three lifted into the air, giving Lincoln a good view of the smoldering ruin that was Memphis. Soon though, Memphis disappeared over the horizon as the Cows soared towards the East Coast.