Maxima!!

TRACK 14: FIGHTING GIRL

"Ya don't just mean the merchandise, right?"

"Spot-on. I've got orders to get rid of them, and I'm almost as afraid of my new boss as I am of you." The punk held up a finger. "But take a look at this crew. We came prepared."

The panic that nearly short-circuited Rosie seconds ago gave way to a rush of heat. "I don't wanna hurt anyone, but I'm not lettin' ya have 'em. And you're not gonna hurt anyone. Take your friends and toys, and leave."

Grim bared his fangs, but not without another shudder. "Think you're in a position to make demands?"

Rosie's gaze scoured the area, and even the simplest sweep gave her full view of her assailants. It didn't take much to ignore them; instead, she set the car with Chase and Isabel on the hospital roof. When it touched down, she seized a stray, tipped-over trash can and set it beside the car -- all so that Henry could spill out into a safe, or safe enough, haven.

Once she laid eyes on all three of them -- once she assumed, or hoped, they would use the doorway to hurry inside -- Rosie turned her back to the hospital once more. But that time, she didn't stay kneeling. She stood up slowly, foot by foot, story by story, to the tune of rumbling muscles a pitch away from a far-off earthquake.

She stood at her full height. Formed a fist.

And she stared Grim down. "Yeah. I think so."

Grim met her eyes. But in the end, he took a slow, weary breath and nodded. "Okay."

The punk pulled out his Kernel and gripped it tight, even as he twisted its top half on its axis. The moment he finished, he raised the cube skyward, while beams of green light spilled out from its spreading gaps. Those beams enveloped Grim in a whirling polygon; translucent walls formed the exterior, while rays traced the outline of its interior -- a cockpit, packed with more machinery than a jet.

Grim vanished inside. The instant he did, it shot upward like fireworks -- and exploded like them, too. Rosie shielded herself from the light show, yet not enough to block her view of what took form: legs, arms, a torso, and head, all crafted from searing sparks. But it died down quickly, so that she and everyone else got a full glimpse of what Grim had wrought.

And he had wrought a machine. A towering, bipedal machine -- lean, but covered in yards of chrome armor. Purple streaks traveled up green metals like vines, yet shone in the sun's wake. More neon tubes carried lime light across its body, atop and through the boxy chevron plates that comprised it. Arms and legs ended in jet-black steel, molded into claws and talons. On its chest, the armor linked together to create a robotic bat, fangs and all. On its head -- violet-eyed, and packed with teeth sharper than pikes -- sprouted a trio of metallic mohawks. On its back, wings locked into a V shape; they had folded enough to stay out of the way, but showed enough to turn the machine into what Grim wanted so dearly.

A demon. All two hundred fifty feet of it.

"Holy shit," Chase whispered, while Isabel took pictures. Meanwhile, Henry ducked back inside his trash can.

Grim's new toy checked out its palms; even with its metal make, its motions looked so natural that Rosie couldn't separate the man from the machine. "So, this is CHAOS power. Controlling it still feels as natural as breathing." The robot looked at Rosie, but clicked its steel tongue. "Damn. If I'd gone on the attack earlier, there wouldn't be as big a gap."

Rosie didn't ask what he meant. The robot towered over countless buildings, but to her? The top of its head barely reached her chest.

"If this is the best it's gonna get, then fine. Fine! I don't care how big you are -- I'm here to win! No matter what it takes!" Grim's machine aimed a thumb at its heart. "This is my ace -- my Legion-66! And the two of us are gonna rip you apart!"