V2

[SYSTEM_LOG: INTRUDER DETECTED IN LAYER 1: LIMBO]

[LOCATION: 1-4: CLAIR DE LUNE - MAIN HALLWAY]

[OBJECTIVE: ELIMINATE THE PROTOTYPE]

[STATUS: READY FOR ENGAGEMENT]

heavy silence of Limbo is shattered. Beneath the high vaults of the gothic hall, where lifeless, illusory light from a painted moon filters through stained-glass windows, a heavy, rhythmic clanking echoes. Footsteps. Heavy, confident, and entirely devoid of fear. Across the white marble floor, a long, angular shadow glides, crowned by four sharp, metallic wings that sway lazily behind its back.This is V2.Its chassis burns with a provocative, aggressive crimson-red color — a pristine coat of paint untouched by the rust and grime of war. Unlike its predecessor, V2 does not look like a scrap-metal pile slapped together on a whim. Its plating is monolithic, heavy, and polished to a mirror shine, built for absolute dominance in the New Peace.The machine freezes in the dead center of the hall, right in front of the massive double doors. Its single, bright yellow optic lens slowly focuses on the far entrance, scanning the silhouette that has just crossed the threshold.Standing before it is V1. The blue prototype. A machine that was supposed to rot in the scrapyards of history, drenched in someone else's blood and reeking of cheap motor oil.Inside V2’s processor, combat efficiency analyzers evaluate the target in mere nanoseconds. Model: V1. Modification: External blood absorption for immediate battlefield repairs. What a tragic irony. The engineers stripped V2 of this exact function, deeming it too messy, and granted it impenetrable, multi-layered steel instead. And right now, this steel hungers to prove its superiority.V2 does not attack immediately. It is far too arrogant, too human in its mannerisms to behave like a brainless drone. It savors the moment. The red machine smoothly slides its right leg back. The four wings behind its back unfold in perfect sync, slicing through the air with a sharp hiss, flashing with a brief, brilliant golden neon glow. Slowly, and with blatant mockery, V2 tilts its chassis forward, pressing its right hand against its chest while extending its left arm — the massive, heavy Knuckleblaster — slightly outward.It is a deep, ceremonial bow. A jester’s gesture of respect right before it turns its opponent into a smoking pile of gears.V2 snaps back upright with terrifying, unnatural speed. The heavy pistons of the Knuckleblaster lock into place with a dull thud, and a wisp of superheated steam vents from its forearm. The robot clenches its golden fist, demonstrating its devastating power, then raises its right hand, tightly gripping its revolver.It takes one short, provocative step forward. Its entire stance screams: "Come on then. Show me what that praised vampirism of yours can do. Try to get to my blood through these plates."A single thought loops inside its processor, translated into the binary code of pure combat thrill: this blue piece of garbage does not deserve its arsenal. Everything V1 possesses belongs to V2, the true king of these steel corridors.The machine suddenly twirls the revolver on its guard with incredible speed — a split-second flash of bravado. The Clair De Lune melody playing softly in the background seems to mute entirely, replaced by the rising hum of V2’s generators running at maximum capacity.V2 snaps its revolver hand upward. With a sharp, distinct metallic ring, a shiny brass coin flies into the air, spinning rapidly and catching the glint of the fake moonlight. The machine instantly lines up its sight, ready to fire a flawless ricochet shot directly into your visor. The wings on its back erupt into a fierce, warning red light. Standby mode disabled. Full eradication protocol engaged.Your move, V1. What do you do?