Friend In Need

Luther took hold of one of the dangling curtains, swung forwards, and knocked the gun off Woden's hand. Woden staggered backwards, and Luther lunged at him, a moment too late. Luther fell beside Harrison.

"Ah, I see! There are two of you idiotic rats sneaking in my high-security area, eh?" Woden grabbed Luther's arm and dragged him on top of Harrison's body. "You both look better while you're dead. Not to worry, dearest of all my friends! I'll end it all in a jiffy!"

His gaze fell on the MPsk guns lying on the floor. He took them both, one in each hand and laughed his life out.

"It is over, dear fellas, it is all over. You know what is? Your blood, ofcourse! Goodbye, and never come back again!" Woden pulled the trigger but it missed.

"Well let's try that one more time, shall we?" He shot, he missed, he shot, he missed again. "One... last... time!" Before he could shoot, he got kicked by someone. It was not a man, it was—

"Amy Catt, what're you doing here?" Woden was speechless. "How d-did you g-get h-here?"

A woman with silver blonde hair and slick, black tights had broken into a maximum-security room.

"You should improve your security, Mr. Alwatt!" she purred. "Your proximity system couldn't even stop a stealthy Catt on the loose!"

She threw the guns back at the duo: Luther and Harrison, who just kept on staring blankly at her, speechless.

"You can thank me later, guys!"

With that, she sprung back to the ceiling and disappeared out of sight.

Harrison stood up, picked up his gun, and shot down Woden. As he did so, Luther called an elevator and went to the ground floor. Harrison waited for the elevator to arrive back again.

***

The 18th floor was humongous. The hallway stretched from north to south, at a total length of 55m from wall to wall, with an wideness of 10m. Everywhere sprawled tables, chairs, stalls, and lab equipment. Numerous scientists were conducting experiments related to either chemistry or physics. Atomic physics.

In addition to the tables, chairs, and stalls, there were also warheads and nukes of different countries, shapes, and sizes stored on raised platforms.

He glanced at some of the names of the warheads. Some had pretty wacky names like TummyAche2000, BlisterDestroyerX, Gone2Deep, HumanCripplizer, etc. While others had just numbers for their names like 4X49FT, 3F23T, and also the warhead that Luther had mentioned – '5:FT'. He strode calmly towards it, and glanced at a robotic prototype in the corner: a giant snake-like GSFER. All the scientists were too busy at their work to notice about the intruder. They probably thought of Harrison as a visitor.

He was only inches from the 5:FT when the 'Catt' woman reappeared. She pushed Harrison out through the wall (that's right! I said wall! Amy is no ordinary human; you shall learn about her later) and was falling 50 feet below, to their deaths.

"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?" Harrison was too flabbergasted to speak quietly. "WE ARE GONNA DIE IF WE FALL LIKE THIS!"

Amy replied calmly, "Don't worry, sir! Everything's perfect."

She opened her parachute and let Harrison hold onto her. "What I did for you, was for your own good, sir. You'll see soon enough."

And sure enough, it happened. As they were safely landed on the ground, the entire New York Hotel shook with a tremor. The glass, walls, and rubble streamed out from the 18th floor as the 14m long GSFER slithered out. Onlookers on the road quickly scrambled for cover as lasers locked down on multiple targets.

"Humans detected. Kill code engaged..." the robot spoke as it shot missiles from its mouth at two (empty) cars. The GSFER dug into the ground, and peace was restored back... only for a few minutes.

"That's why I pushed you, sir," Amy said as she gasped for breath. "That's a GSFER, a new generation of robotic facilities. It can do countless actions; even professional terrorists can't imitate." She took a piece of paper from her pocket. "Here. This contains all the facts about these robots."

Harrison took the paper and read.

"Name: GSFERobot.

Place of manufacture: Symbiocyte Pharmaceuticals, Industrial Section-B.

Body: pure titanium alloyed with zinc, chrome, and tungsten.

Movements: can crawl, slither, and dig through soil. Actions: roars when battery is low, glares at you if it is suspicious.

Hostile Actions: can vaporize enemies with a touch of xenon-operated lasers, can shoot missiles at vehicles, can suck in fuel to restore some battery power and also squirts the same fuel (while it is burning) at enemies.

Note: Stay 15 meters away from this machine IF YOU WISH TO STAY ALIVE!"

"So that's it?" Harrison said after he was done reading. "You mean to tell me that NY is doomed?"

"Well, actually no, Mr. Garison. I mean to tell you to assist me in preventing this new ingenious machinery from causing farther chaos. This is the bane of Alwatt Woden. He created this robot, and only he could've stopped it, if you hadn't intervened and slain him. I warned you NOT to kill him!"

Luther came back five minutes later.

"Yo Harrison, let's go man. Our mission is complete." He then realized who was standing beside Garison. "Hey you lady, stay away from my buddy here."

"Umm... Luther, I think I've got to tell you something."

***

"So that's what it's all about, isn't it?" Luther asked after he understood the current matter in hand. "What do we do now, Harrison?"

"I suppose we go searching for that GSFER. What d'you say, Catt?"

"Guys... I think there's no need to go searching... the GSFER is here already!"

The ground cracked and split where the GSFER sprouted from. It threw the nearby cars here and there, before slithering past Harrison.

Smack! The tail caught Harrison in his face and yanked him away, senseless.

And so, that's how Harrison used to get killed in the dramatic way. He was thrown off to a passing truck that took him to an airport and was taken to Australia. Poor Harrison! All he wanted was a nice, quiet, peaceful vacation which turned out to be a chaotic journey to death.

He got stranded, and left alone in the streets of Sydney, when his body was discovered in the back of the truck. They left him to rot on the streets, where people stared at him, at his body, his ragged clothes. He lived inside a sewer entry, drinking the nasty, foul, and disgusting water to satisfy his hunger, and seldom found bits of food floating around.

One day, to his utter relief, he was found by an MBC agent, who took him quickly to the local headquarters. Fortunately, Jim Buavora was there.

"See? I told you! I told you not to go off into a bad-mannered country but yet, you didn't listen!" Jim Buavora had been preparing his speech for all this for days. Finally, it came to some use. "Now, as long as you're here, we'll perfectly make sure that I give you proper treatment and care till you get better. Okay?"

"O-okay," Harrison stammered due to lack of proper food for 3 days.

"Good. Now that you're here, you can help us in our current health crisis. Won't you?"

"Ye-yes, cer-certainly."

"There has been a recent shipment of drugs imported from Miami. See if you can locate the thugs behind this and bring them to custody. Since it is almost lunch time now, I guess you should get something to—"

Harrison fainted and fell to the floor with a thud!

"—eat."

***

After Harrison became better and fit again, he was sent to Miami by a plane, to search the city for the drug dealers. The plane touched down in Miami, the next day.

As the plane landed and came to a halt, two men from MIW got out their guns, heavy assault rifles of the 1960s World War 2. They aimed at Harrison as he climbed down the stairs.

"FREEZE! Not a muscle, or you're dead meat, bro!" warned an agent. "What's your name, MIW agent?"

"Whoa, whoa! Calm down! I've come to give you news about your MBC. I'm Harrison Garison and have come to assist you in your fight for untold evil. Show me the path, and I'll show you mine."

The agents exchanged startled looks. They removed their weapons and gestured Harrison to follow. They led him to their car, a yellow Lamborghini, parked outside the airport runways.

"Get in." They got into the car, with Harrison on the driver's seat and one of the

agents, on the shotgun seat, aiming his gun at Garison's head. "Drive."

"But... I don't..."

"I SAID DRIVE! We saw you, driving like a maniac, with your friend. Drive like that."

"But where to?"

"Drive till... you drop down dead!" The agents snickered. "Drive to the docks. Section Alpha 42-6612, Storage Centre. Get there in time, and you'll get less pain in your legs."

This was enough for Harrison. It didn't take him a single moment to realize that these agents were frauds. They were thugs dressed in black to earn them respect and access to all restricted areas. He felt his coat for any guns, and surely, he had some fate.

And MH21's "Dark" was making him confused.