Cairo stood silently at the workshop's center, four combat servitors around him awaiting orders like loyal guards in silence.
The air permeated with machine oil and heated metal's particular scent. The energy core's low humming infused this space with a certain reassuring rhythm.
Through his visual interface, he clearly saw seven red dots representing Maelstrom's convoy, steadily driving into the ruins area outside town along the most probable path predicted by servo-skulls.
"Target entering preset ambush zone. Activate protocol 'Bastion.'" His voice beneath the face mask sounded calm and clear, without the slightest fluctuation.
Orders transmitted to every combat unit. Three imitation skulls and four combat servitors' optical sensors simultaneously lit, emitting constant, focused crimson glow.
Servitors' heavy footsteps crushed weathered ground with metallic collision sounds, then following preset tactical paths, they silently and swiftly dispersed with imitation skulls, occupying various elevated positions and crossfire points.
Cairo slowly walked out of the workshop, dark red robe hem gently rippling in rising wind.
He chose not to hide, instead walking directly toward the relatively open square at town center, like a craftsman heading to his work area.
At his shoulder, the servo-skull hovered soundlessly, blue light flowing in eye sockets projecting battlefield overall information, enemy unit details, environmental parameters in real-time to his vision, forming a complex yet clear data network.
The first modified pickup roared around a corner, rust-covered body welded with crude metal panels. Behind the roof-mounted heavy machine gun, a Maelstrom member covered in cyberware modifications and grotesque paint frantically shouted, his voice echoing through ruins.
He never even saw where the attack came from.
Dense gunfire suddenly erupted from a second-floor window on the right—a combat servitor's heavy machine gun executing precise short bursts.
12.7mm armor-piercing rounds instantly tore through the engine hood, penetrating the fuel tank.
The pickup transformed into a burning iron coffin in violent explosion, scorching metal fragments scattering everywhere, wreckage blocking half the street.
Thick black smoke rose skyward, twisting into bizarre shapes in wind.
A line of data flashed across the visual interface: Target One eliminated.
"Suppression efficiency good," Cairo said softly to the servo-skull at his shoulder. "Record shooting parameters and ammunition consumption data, old friend."
Following vehicles slammed brakes hard, piercing tire friction sounds tearing through brief silence.
Maelstrom members panickedly jumped from vehicles, using vehicle wreckage and broken walls trying to organize counterattacks.
Various firearms opened fire simultaneously, bullets pouring like rain toward the machine gun's direction, yet only splashing sporadic sparks on servitors' heavy composite armor with crisp clinks, like hail hitting tin roofs.
"Light weapons attack," Cairo observed real-time damage feedback on interface. "Armor performance completely meets design standards, no structural damage detected."
The second armed pickup attempting flanking maneuver just appeared when a rifle grenade from concealed launcher precisely hit its mid-body.
Deafening explosion, shrapnel flying everywhere, tearing vehicle in half. Scorching metal fragments swept surrounding area like rain. Several Maelstrom members' screams abruptly ceased.
Interface updated ammunition inventory status: Rifle grenades remaining 14/15.
Remaining Maelstrom members finally realized what desperate situation they'd fallen into.
Fear overcame greed. Some began panickedly retreating, even abandoning weapons attempting escape.
"Target attempting retreat. Free fire, complete elimination procedure." Cairo calmly issued orders, tone as if merely confirming a process step's completion.
In an instant, elimination procedure efficiency suddenly elevated.
One combat servitor stepped from cover, arm-mounted kinetic rifle emitting steady, rhythmic roars.
Each bullet precisely found targets, destroying a reversing pickup along with three Maelstrom members hiding behind it.
Sparks from ammunition penetrating vehicle mixed with blood, forming cruel yet efficient picture.
Another combat servitor adopted precise single-shot mode, like conducting mechanical calibration, eliminating fleeing enemies one by one.
Its optical sensors steadily tracked each heat signature without emotional fluctuation, only absolute execution efficiency.
Each gunshot accompanied a heat signature's disappearance—precision chillingly unsettling.
"Single-shot accuracy high," Cairo said satisfactorily, gaze sweeping across data streams. "Looks like high-precision optic implant installation wasn't wasted. Hit efficiency reached expectations."
The third combat servitor steadily advanced, heavy machine gun fire suppressing remaining enemies unable to raise heads.
Bullets penetrated walls and cover, raising cascades of rubble and dust.
Occasional stray bullets hit servitor armor but could only leave insignificant scratches.
Cairo himself never employed those special weapons.
He merely stood in place, vision through optical lenses steadily sweeping the battlefield—observing, evaluating.
A slender mechanical tentacle extended from his robe sleeve, deftly picking up a still-warm bullet fragment that had splashed to his feet, conducting rapid composition analysis.
"Homemade reloaded ordinary steel-core rounds, crude workmanship," he muttered, casually discarding the fragment. "Not even worth recycling."
Elimination procedure neared conclusion in eight minutes forty-two seconds.
Gunfire gradually thinned, only occasional short bursts and crackling sounds from burning vehicle wreckage remaining.
The air mixed with gunpowder, scorched blood, and ozone smells, plus heated metal's unique pungent scent.
One combat servitor walked with steady steps to an overturned, seemingly heavy pickup-converted armored personnel carrier.
The vehicle body riddled with bullet holes and explosion dents, one side fractured.
The servitor used mechanical arms to steadily and powerfully tear open twisted deformed rear door, metal tearing sounds harsh and grating.
A burly man seemingly the leader struggled crawling out halfway, face covered in blood and oil, one arm unnaturally twisted. His other hand gripped a exaggeratedly styled pistol, hysterically firing continuously at the combat servitor.
Bullets bounced off the servitor's chest plate, leaving several insignificant dents.
The servitor showed no hesitation. Another mechanical arm's front rotating chainsaw steadily activated, emitting low, rhythmic humming, then precisely swung down.
Humming and tooth-grinding structural separation sounds briefly rang out, quickly returning to silence.
Dark red liquid splashed on the servitor's cold armor, slowly dripping down.
Visual interface displayed: All mobile targets static, combat ended. Begin recovery operations?
Cairo nodded slightly.
"Collect all usable components. Weapons, cyberware, vehicle engines and energy cores priority. If biomaterials intact, recover together." He paused, adding: "Thoroughly clean scene, leave no traces that might attract attention."
Four combat servitors immediately began executing orders, efficiently shuttling through ruins and wreckage, using powerful mechanical arms to dismantle, collect, transport.
The entire process orderly, no excess movements.
One servitor specifically marked recyclable items, another handled preliminary sorting, the third transported, the last handled scene cleanup—using specialized tools removing bloodstains and combat traces.
Cairo stood in place observing recovery process efficiency briefly, then turned toward the workshop.
"Today's test very successful," he told the servo-skull at his shoulder. "Tactical coordination efficiency met expectations. Though just servitors temporarily cobbled from whatever could be found, basically sufficient."
The workshop door slowly closed behind him, completely isolating outside bloodshed and chaos.
Inside, the stably operating energy core emitted reassuring low humming. Various mechanical devices' operating sounds composed a familiar symphony.
"Alright, old friend," he said calmly, walking toward the central workbench. "Let's analyze in detail all data just collected. I need to know Unit Three's targeting system precision degradation during continuous firing."
As his words fell, densely packed data streams began flowing across visual interface. Every combat detail precisely recorded and analyzed.
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