'Don't know why I feel this way, have I dreamt this time, this place?
Something vivid comes again, into my mind,'
And I think I've seen your face, seen this room, been in this place,
Something vivid comes again, into my mind,'
M.I.Y.U. was being hounded. There was no other word for it.
Even as the black cloaked form of the Merciful Intelligential Yggdrasil Unit ran, fast enough that she seemed to glide over the sands instead, she was nonetheless aware of the pursuit which made this sort of action necessary.
And after three days, she was beginning to tap her reserves. It was as close to being 'strained' as she could get, all things considered. On a strictly mechanical level, she'd been built to last through more strenuous conditions, and had done so on numerous occasions in the past - purely physical wear wasn't something she worried about, seeing as self repair systems could maintain her and themselves for as close to an indefinite amount of time as estimates could ascertain.
Unfortunately, the alloy, myomer and pseudo-flesh, not to mention the mind, had to be worked by _something_, and no matter how efficient the powerplant, eventually the power cells' charge would be depleted in the wake of this much drain.
The android pushed off, dust trailing in her wake even as she rose, then seemed to hang in the air for a moment, before plummeting downwards. She twisted, contorting around her center of mass, legs directing the descent and keeping momentum mostly forward all the while even as the canyon's stone walls were marred by her armored boots' impacts, chips of rock raining down to the ground below.
A howl from above, rising into a keening whine as the hunters spiraled upwards, having missed their prey.
For all that she was being chased, for all that she was focused primarily on protecting the person currently cradled by one slim and disproportionately strong arm and shielded from the friction of air resistance by her cloak, Miyu was still primarily a combat model.
Possibly the most advanced combat system on the face of the planet, in fact.
The battle computer that always ran parallel to her consciousness was constantly evaluating, constantly analyzing ...
At the sixth rebound, she twisted the impacting foot just slightly, the imbalance throwing her into a spin. Her free arm reformed, its composition changing as it was raised and pointed up and back along her path.
Focus.
Zoom.
Targets.
Seven V-type Otome.
Range.
300 meters and closing.
Compensating for relative momentum.
Calculating ballistic arcs.
Firing solution compiled. Accuracy approximation ratios in excess of .75.
Set mode of engagement to Barrage.
Firing.
... it's weird. These things seem to be writing themselves. I'm going out for breakfast. More tomorrow, at the latest.
-Griever
When tact is required, use brute force. When force is required, use greater force.
When the greatest force is required, use your head. Surprise is everything. - The Book of Cataclysm