TechNoVore

TechnoVore

By: BigToFu

Chapter 1

The moment my back smashed into something was the moment that my brain kicked into high gear. Instinctively rolling to the side, I fell another foot and a half before kissing the dirt face down. A groan and a sigh escaped me as I settled down. Honestly, the reason why I knew that I was alive was due to the pain from my fall. Pretty sure that death and the afterlife didn't come with a sense of pain.

I rolled over only to squint my eyes as the bright rays of sunshine decided to force its way past my eyelids. My forehead pounded as the thoughts of servo motors, sensor optics, and so much more flared across my mind's eye. Forcing my body into a seated position, my hands instinctively came up to clean off my face with the back of my sleeves.

Pulling my hands away from my face and opening my eyes, I was momentarily blinded before things went from blurry to clear within seconds. Yet, that wasn't what tripped me out since I had needed glasses before and now everything was so damn clear. No, what was tripping me out were the name tags and green glowing outline certain items in the junkyard carried. Yet, even with everything getting highlighted and dismissed within nano-seconds, I noticed how the information didn't overload my senses. Urgh, something was telling me that I might be Dorthy and that I was no longer in Kansas anymore.

Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I noticed that, of course, the screen was cracked. Then the realization struck me, ohh shit, my browser history. Yet I could do nothing but grit my teeth and curse whoever or whatever had translocated me to what appeared to be a junkyard. Shoving my anger down, I couldn't help the chuckle of desperation that came out of me at the sight of the flashing sign on top of my cracked screen, no network.

My anger flared once more, only to stop once the sounds of crack snap pop came from my phone. This only helped to throw my heart into my throat, since as any first-world kid, my important contacts were inside my phone and not memorized.

Another huff of frustration escaped my lips before a subroutine popped into my mind's eye, assimilation. That piqued my interest, but before I could figure it out, my hand turned into goo before swallowing my phone whole. Something clicked before my vision shifted again.

Now, not only was I seeing the world as it was with glowing highlights, but I had a signal bar in the upper left in my field of view. Things spun out of control from there as my mind drifted towards wanting to know my current location.

Screens popped in and out of view after a message came up, speaking about excellent signal strength. That was followed by a web browser that was complete shit compared to what I was used to using on my phone. The mere thought of my phone had the shit web browser swapped out for chrome before the maps came up to show my location with a blinking red dot.

I was in Brockton Fucking Bay, from the junk pile and mark on the map, this was clearly a junkyard north of the city. Granted, I was lucky not to have woken up in the boat graveyard, but this was not much better, to be honest. My breathing started low and slow before speeding up until I roared to the world my frustrations.

At least five minutes went by before I was able to get myself under control once more. Laying back on the ground, I let out a sigh as I took in the time at the corner of my vision. Surprisingly, it was still early, a little before 12:00 noon on a Saturday.

Okay, I can work with this, I thought before finally getting up off my ass. That was when I noticed my hand, the scar on the back of my left hand was gone. That wasn't possible, since it had been with me since I was ten when I crashed a go-cart. Then again, how was it possible to be in another reality? That train of thought had my mind buzzing with interdimensional vectors and subspace variants.

Shutting that down since I didn't want to crunch the numbers, I started to look around until I found a junk car that still had some of its windows. After wiping off the dirt, I was finally able to catch my reflection. Ohh shit, I look as if I was in college all over again, but with a few minor differences.

Somehow, someway, I had lost all of the muscle that I had put on from my stint on the high school wrestling team and now looked like a weeb with noodle arms. My face was still my face, but all of the little imperfections were gone. My nose didn't have that broken tilt to it and I was clean-shaven. Hell, if what I was seeing was any indication, someone decided to airbrush my features while bringing me a hell of a lot closer to the uncanny valley.

Sigh, I was back at the age that it was hard to tell if I was either eighteen or twenty. I love my genetics but damn they could be a pain. The image in the mirror was the reason why I decided to grow a beard in the first place. Now not only do I look like a younger version of myself, but it was clear with the mechanical features that I was a bio-metallic being.

The biomechanical nature of my being was a clear sign that I was a case 53, and the whole assimilation of tech was a clear distinction of where my powers lay. Yeah, eating tech then integrating it into my body? I can work with that. It was clear that my powers allowed me to start small then go big, and ohh, I was planning to go big.

If I got the chance, I was going to Optimus Prime the hell outta someone, since I was obviously a punch wizard now.

Sitting in my location, I decided to waffle for a bit as I browsed through my HUD and tested a few things. Since I ate my phone and integrated it into my systems, everything upon it was open for me to use. That also included a few R34 images in my discord. What can I say, I lived the weeb life for a bit.

Swapping to the tech section and ignoring a few comments, I made copies of the armor and a few VTOLs to review for later. Just the mere thought of a disco grenade from Ratchet and Clank had my mind buzzing with ideas on how to use acoustic effects to force someone to dance to death.

With my thoughts finally gathered, I got up off my ass deciding it was time to get out of here. That train of thought brought up the minimap that sat at the corner of my vision.

Turning towards the west, I took off at a slow jog as I tried to get used to my body all over again. As I ran, my body just shifted, automatic functions taking place, gyro-stabilization units kicking in to help with balance. Okay, that was freaky, but I couldn't lie about the results. I knew that my five hundred pound fat ass could now balance on a quarter with only my big toe.

Halfway through the junkyard, I found the less-traveled path back towards the front gates, but I never made it there as my scanning function found something. Hanging off the back of a broken-down lifted ford truck was a mean motorcycle that was missing its back tire.

That was alright since my scanners were telling me that not only could I consume and assimilate the bike, since its engine, bracket chain, and electronics were good, but it was also telling me that I could consume the truck. Now, the truck was interesting, since it had all four tires, even if two out of the four were flat. Then there was the engine with a blown head gasket and crushed front end.

Before I knew it, I was standing right in front of the truck and running my hand over the bike. My face scrunched up into a frown as I noticed the cracked leather of the motorcycle. Then the shit hit the fan as I triggered the assimilation prompt that popped across my vision.

Lines rippled across my chest before ripping open, only to reveal a massive mouth with very sharp teeth. My gaze fell onto the bike as hooks shot out of my chest, latching onto the Yamaha and pulling it into my chest mouth. At this point, I had no fucking clue what the fuck this was on my chest and was trying my best not to freak the fuck out.

Two bites were all that it took before the bike was no more, then the highlighted outline surrounding the truck. Assimilation flashed across my HUD before all hell broke loose. That took four bites, followed by a burp that strangely tasted like synthetic oil, interesting. But you know what they say, when life gives you lemons, you make a grenade launcher and punt that bitch into the rage dragon's eye. Yeah, my little feeding frenzy was only starting with those two vehicles, because before I could process what I had just done, more hooks shot out of my chest-mouth thing, hooking in more vehicles or just junked parts and pulling them in.

Eyes wide, I grabbed the top of the jaw, then the lower jaw, before forcing them closed with a mighty grunt of effort. Panting with my hands on my knees, I caught my breath as my body processed whatever all that was.

[Vehicle Mode Unlocked.]

[Yamaha FZ-10 Unlocked.]

[Ford F250 Lifted… Locked.]

That was followed by my technological levels and a cybertonium conversion rate, which was very low from what I could see. Just looking at them brought up a prompt for assimilation, which I was not going to touch until I at least had some level of control over it.

Pushing those thoughts aside, I brought up the mental prompt for the Yamaha and noticed how it was not only repaired but also upgraded to an electronic pulsar engine. Then there were the other modes listed beside that bike that made me hard as fucking titanium. The Yamaha came with armor mode. It came with motherfucking armor mode! The image that it showed looked like a male version of that transformer called Arcee from the cartoons, and if I was going to be honest, I was alright with that.

My excitement got the best of me as I triggered vehicle mode.

The legs on my pants burst as two tires made themselves known, then everything changed. It was hard to explain as I began to transform, my chest opened up swapping from human looking parts to mechanical. Headlights appeared where my pecs used to be then everything started to change, mufflers, engines, and a seat. Before I knew it, my tires were on the ground and my engine was purring as my sensors took in my surroundings before creating a path for me to take.

Vroom!!

Vroom!!

Two strokes were all that I needed before popping the clutch on a launch. My engine purred with excitement as I shifted gears, tires gripping the ground from advanced applications of the van-dar-wall forces. Leaning to the left, I darted around a bend in the junkyard then dodged around the go-cart that had someone riding on it to come find the noise.

My sensors picked up the 'hey' but I ignored the lady in the overhauls as I popped a wheelie. Noticing the blocked-off fence in the distance, options came to mind as my processors took in the data available to me. I had to suppress a giggle at the idea of flight mode, but even with the overwhelming adrenaline pumping through my veins, I knew better than to get into the air space and allow the PRT to catch me on radar and have them pin some bullshit about violating the city air space. It's not like they use the fucking thing, but that was fanon and not canon, and I had to be careful right now.

Swapping options out, my cybertonium reserves came up and I dumped ten units into improving my suspension so I could jump the ten-foot fence. My overview gave a five-second count down while also plotting a course up the left. The course would allow me to ride up the tow truck, hop onto the roof, then over the fence. The overview even gave me arcs to follow, wind speed, and so many different variables that I had to dismiss more than half of them.

I really needed some downtime so that I could fix or go through more than all of my options, but that was later, and right now, I had to hop this damn fence and make myself scarce. Before hopping the fence, I left a nice tire mark on the tow truck.

Then my tires hit the open road. The pavement felt like velvet to my tires, but I didn't care since the road was freedom and that was all that mattered to me. My wheels spun, my grip was solid as steel, and I was one hundred feet from the junkyard within the first five seconds of my new life.

=][=

Even at the speeds that I was going, and I was going damn fast, it still took me a solid forty minutes to follow my GPS into Brockton Bay proper. It took less than that for me to figure out how to make my hologram rider appear. If the data that I was receiving was correct, then it would take me just ten minutes more to get to the low price motel that I was going to hold up in for the night. Then again, I had cross-referenced the area with a map that I found on PHO for gang territories, and I wasn't happy with what I was seeing.

My only other option was to take up staying in one of the ships of the boat graveyard, but in all honesty, I was a first-world kinda guy. I was not about to pass up sleeping in a bed if I had any choice in the matter. So with that decided, I dodged around a shitty ass honda before darting down the off-ramp and into the city proper.

I took a few turns and made it down a straight block before coming to a stop at the light. The time I spent at the light was all that I needed to clear my head. Snapping out of my speed lust, I activated my sensors and scanned a copy of all the vehicles around into my systems.

That changed when a behemoth of a monster sped by chewing up the earth. Well, there goes Squealer and her tank monster of doom. And right behind her was that jackass Armsmaster riding on his tinker tech bike. I should have been amazed and stunned like any other weeb, but I honestly wasn't. No matter how much canon or fanon tried to redeem the man, I just wasn't drinking that cult juice, so fuck'em.

What I was interested in though, was my scan of that fucking tank monster. The engine was that of a jet and Squealer had somehow managed to make it run on regular old-fashioned diesel fuel. Now that was worth getting into the mix for. Well, that and the other tinker tech weapons that were scattered all over the monster rig. The thought of an offensive weapon brought up a diagram of my left and right arm in armor mode.

My left came with a sonic cannon, while my right carried a ten-round pulse rifle, each reload ate into my cybertonium stash though, so I had to be careful with my shots. The sonic canon, on the other hand, needed to charge between shots. Letting out a sigh, I made a mental note to figure out a way to build Mega Man's blasters to replace my weapons. Now, that thought was interesting, because it brought up my blueprint mode for repair and upgrade mode. Then I had to shut that down since I had limited cybertonium reserves.

Okay, now I was regretting not eating that damn junkyard when I had the chance.

Ignoring the PRT van that sped by and that speedster dude, I waited for the light to change before crossing the street, then speeding towards the opposite direction. I could always deal with Squealer later at my own time, date, and choosing.

As I drove down the road, I formulated a few quick plans. I was a super-powered punch wizard with no cash on my person. So it was obvious what my next step was going to be in a city filled with assholes.

I never mugged a man in my life, but I was a super armored punch wizard, I can figure it out. Halfway through that thought, my HUD did the search for me then brought up search images and videos on how to perform a mugging properly. Okay, that made me want to facepalm since they actually have things like that on not only PHO, even if the thread was locked, but also on this world's version of YouTube.

Separating a partition of my mind to review the videos and information, the rest of me focused on driving deeper into what was known as merchant territory. I knew this, not only because the maps were procured from online, but also due to the fact that the city made a drastic change from clean streets and well-dressed folks, to what could only be called pockmarked, if I squinted at it then gave it compliments.

The roads were fucked, and honestly, I didn't want to drive over the damn things. My HUD gave me flight options, but I didn't have enough cybertonium or any scans or blueprints for helicopter mode or jet mode. What I did have was enough for a minor conversion of my wheels into propellers or turbines, allowing me to fly in armor mode.

Yeah, can't lie, I was starting to like the way my body functioned, but I was just going to settle for the first nook of the day right now.

The mook of the day was found after I jumped a pothole before taking a turn, spotted him at the end of the street hanging out like he owned the corner and the alleyway behind him. My scanners picked up the handgun hidden in his back belt, but my real focus was the fat fucking wad of cash in his pocket. Hell, I didn't even give the drugs in his coat pocket a second look.

He stood no chance as my engine roared, popping a wheelie, I jumped the curb before slamming right into the mooks side. Mid jump, I was transforming back into my humanoid form, but the joke was on me as my armor mode made itself known.

There was a snap and a crack as the mook's arm twisted at a strange angle, but I paid it no mind as I rode him down to the ground. A thought had my sonic cannon out and I shot his ass point-blank, at low power just to be safe, then I rolled his pockets for the cash.

Talk about easy two hundred bucks for just thirty seconds worth of work. Leaving the drugs, I glanced around, trying to see if anyone had caught what I was doing on-camera or was actually watching this fool from a distance as an early alert system, but I found nothing.

Bending back over, I rolled the Mook for his burner phone, only to find out that it was his actual cell phone, moron. My right forearm opened up and I assimilated his phone.

Stepping into the alleyway, I transformed back into vehicle mode as my systems blitzed through what little information he had. Three other phones pinged onto my HUD all within five blocks of my current location.

Haha! Meat's back on the menu!

With a squeal of tires, I shot out of the alleyway, smoke trailing behind. I took a sharp left then straight down the road for another two lights, then a right at the end of the street. Jumping the curb, I took down another Mook then rolled his pockets before keeping it moving.

After hitting three more mooks, I called it a day after my collective dollar amount peaked at about five thousand. Pulling over in front of a donut shop, I did another quick search across the web. Finding what I wanted within seconds, I streaked off before some asshole could run his hands across my seat. Having my hologram rider flip the asshole a middle finger, I popped a wheelie while running the red light.

Once on the other side, I took a turn at Walter Street, then had to swerve out of the way before falling into a fucking pothole. Letting out my own sigh of relief, I kept on going until I finally arrived at my destination right off the waterfront with a few docks in the surroundings that didn't actually look half bad. Hell, it was clear that these were taken care of since I couldn't pick up the wood rot on my sensors like the others that I passed.

Pulling up to the security booth, my holo-rider checked us in while I went over the rest of my scanned data. Their equipment was old and well used, but they had no issues as far as I could tell. Most of them were a little past their expected lifespan. Now, that was an interesting find, and it also went in line with what I knew from canon and fanon, so yeah, I can work with this.

With the sign-in dealt with, I pulled into the Dock Works parking lot but made my way to the front of the building before transforming back into my humanoid form. A few people gasped and took a step back as they looked at my sudden appearance in surprise.

Taking a look around, I noticed a few taking pictures, so I decided to do it like a rock star and rock out with my cock out. Facing the doorway once more, I took another step forward before noticing that I was still clad in my battle armor. With another step, my armor vanished back into my body and I was back in my jeans and steel toe boots.

My shirts had changed from what I had arrived in, to what appeared to be a tight muscle tie-shirt, but I didn't care about that. What I did care about, was the fact that I was showing some muscles once more and was no longer that shrimp noodle, damn. I know I lift, but carrying what looks like a good thirty pounds of muscles after only four hours of being in a new world has got to be some type of new record.

Walking up to the lady at the front counter, I took a breath, smiled at her, then opened my mouth to advance a damn fucking idea that was brewing in the back of my head.

"May I speak with Daniel Hebert, please," I said to the lady who was clearly a secretary of the place, "Let him know that Anthony Becket is here to see him."