Burn, Metropolis. Burn.
Chemo switches on. "GG56I." It's been a while since it was last active. After the chess match with Calculator, it was as if the increased sentience had put Noah off releasing the walking vat again. But this time, it's in full-sized mode, as the Society require a distraction from the rather overt assassination earlier today, and as far as distractions go, the giant, green, glowing container, is a massive one. "88L." Stepping from a hangar, long disused, in an area that during the war was an airstrip, but is now a part of the burgeoning downtown, Chemo stands to full height, towering above the houses and shops.
People start screaming. People start running. It has orders. There's a prison down the road, and Calculator has ordered Chemo to dissolve one wall, and cause some chaos. Chemo begins to stride down the street, smashing cars, and smashing anyone unfortunate enough to be in the way. It's like King Kong, but toxic, and totally emotionless. When Chemo gets to the end of the street, it turns. That way. But then it stops. It turns another way. That way. It stops again.
"Prison secondary. Metropolis primary. New directive. Break Superman." Chemo starts going back the way it came, and straight towards the busy area of downtown.
People start screaming. People start running. It has orders. There's a prison down the road, and Calculator has ordered Chemo to dissolve one wall, and cause some chaos. Chemo begins to stride down the street, smashing cars, and smashing anyone unfortunate enough to be in the way. It's like King Kong, but toxic, and totally emotionless. When Chemo gets to the end of the street, it turns. That way. But then it stops. It turns another way. That way. It stops again.
"Prison secondary. Metropolis primary. New directive. Break Superman." Chemo starts going back the way it came, and straight towards the busy area of downtown.