Earth, Somewhere deep beneath the ice deserts of Antarctica.

  Chick_Slayer_69, or Chris, as his parents called him, looked around with trepidation. The room he found himself was all weird like. The walls, floor and ceiling were covered with jagged metal spikes, the tips of which sluggishly blinked with tiny red lights like Christmas decorations.

  In the exact center of the room, in mid air, hovered a metal X frame. The same frame at which Chris was firmly strapped to. He couldn't move much, just fidget a bit, though he restrained himself of doing so. Bad things happened when he moved.

  And on top of everything, the enhanced strength his armor gave him did nothing to improve his precarious situation.

  Perhaps the armor wasn’t to blame, but himself? After all, he was the one to buy it on the dark net. And the suit had provided him with a vast array of options for his potential escape. Yet each and every one was more complex and convoluted than the previous one, and he wasn't able to understand, yet alone implement any of them.

  No! That was ridiculous, he wasn't at fault here! He was the victim in this situation. It was all HER fault, that damnable chicken woman! She was at fault here, and he will make sure to blame everything on her!

  BOOM!

  A thunderous electric bolt discharged from the ceiling, impacting his chest and releasing vast amounts of electricity directly at Chris’s body.

  "The prisoner shall refrain from fidgeting. Further disobedience will result in increased intensity of the subsequent punishments." A dispassionate mechanical voice stated.

  "I am innocent!" Chris angrily shouted, ignoring the voice and its warnings.

  BOOM!

  "IT’S ALL HER FAULT!"

  BOOM!

  “The chicken woman, it’s hER FaUL…”

  BOOOOM!!!

  …

  "He isn't very smart is he? He was warned each and every time, yet he keeps disobeying. What level has the Discourager reached? 34? 35? I lost track." Said a fresh faced mechanoid wearing dark glasses and an earpiece.

  “38…” The drone hovering next to the mechanoid agent said with a dry voice. Dispassionately observing the monitor, where the fool inside the interrogation room screamed with anger and pain.

  “39, 40, 41…” The drone kept counting as the prisoner continued to move and subsequently increase his peril even further.

  "Sometimes I really don’t understand humans. Still, I am starting to think he really isn't the real Mecron." The young mechanoid agent said, his metal eyebrows up with dismay at the persistency of the human.

  "Don’t be an idiot!" The drone snapped. "Of course he isn’t the real Mecron. My standards for mechanoids were already low, yet your kind manages to surprise me with every encounter."

  The agent flinched at the insult, frowning at the drone beside him. Then, instead of choosing the wise action and keep his speakers shut, he instead let his emotions take the better of him, again…

  "Well excuse me for not being lucky enough to be hatched as a mighty and all powerful AI. Some of us mortal bots have to manage with only the single CPU inside their metallic sculls."

  There, he had done it now. The words were out, and there was no taking them back. Few lived long enough after snapping back to one of the infamous government enforcement AI’s…

  "You are excused. It is commendable you understand your limitations." The drone answered succinctly. "However, disrespect is not to be tolerated. You will address me as Enforcement AI B45 or Sir. Is that understood?"

  The mechanoid clenched his fists in anger, but remained silent. He wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved to be alive, or furious at the arrogant bastard for insulting him and his entire race. Yet he wasn't a green botling anymore, he was an adult now, and a government agent at that, for good or bad…

  "Yes sir." He finally said between clenched imaginary teeth.

  "Excellent." B45 said with that perfect authoritarian voice of his. "As to the prisoner. You are correct, he is NOT the real Mecron. The armor though… That is a completely different issue. It did materialize in the real world when we manually disconnected the prisoner. Only a few precious artifacts have been recorded to do that, and Mecron’s armor is one of them."

  "You serious? I assumed it was just a prop, a very well made one, but still a plasteel replica." The mechanoid said with shock, the events of their previous confrontation momentarily forgotten.

  "Where the hell did that moron got his hands on a genuine System artifact, let alone the real Mecron armor?!"

  "I am always serious." B45 answered with his characteristical severe tone. "I am 100% sure this is the real Mecron armor, or one of them anyway. As to where did he got it, this my dear colleague, is the real question." The enforcement AI said, as it commanded its puppet drone body to open the door of the interrogation room.

  Since the mechanoid couldn't fly, and didn't want to get himself killed in the electric spikes at the floor, he wisely remained at the doorstep, while B45 confidently flew towards the center of the room to meet the prisoner face to face.

  Chris carefully, slowly, moved his eyes down to better see his visitor. He thought of speaking, of shouting, of raging against this injustice he found himself in. Yet at the last moment he stopped himself. His eyes slowly moving up above the door frame where the Discourager device ominously loomed over him.

  “Chick_Slayer_69, or otherwise known as Chris Peterson.”

  “Son of Bjorn and Freya Peterson.”

  “Occupation: Ration bar farmers.”

  "I am Enforcement AI B45, and I represent the Escaldian government."

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  "You will address me as sir."

  "You will answer my questions in the most precise and efficient way humanly possible."

  "You will obey."

  "Am I understood?"

  Chris yet again tried to speak, but the memory of the Discourager was still all to fresh in his mind. Instead he gave out a slow, very deliberate glacial blink.

  "I will take that as a confirmation…" B45 said dryly. "Oh, and do not worry about the shock device. I have disabled the Discourager for the duration of our interview."

  *Silence*

  "Very well, let's begin. Chris, where did you get the armor?"

  *Silence…*

  "Do not make me repeat myself." The AI stated with a dangerous deliberate voice, that managed to perfectly convey the unspoken threat behind the words.

  Chris wanted to speak, he really did, he wanted to say everything and more. Yet he couldn't tare his eyes away from the Discourager. Its ominous presence an undeniable fixture in his mind.

  The drone stood still for a while longer, then tilted its flattened spherical body at the object above him. Then he turned back at the terrified prisoner.

  "I see… Agent Brok. Summon the science team. They are to take the armor apart and decipher all its secrets. Also, prepare the mind probes. I will examine the prisoner’s mind personally."

  Brock visibly winced at the order. Even if he was a robot he still wasn't a soulless machine without compassion. He had personally seen the consequences of such devices, and he didn't wish them on anyone. Yet he had also used them on several humans himself…

  He was a government agent after all, it was all part of his job. Perhaps it was time for him to finally reconsider his career choices? Bah, like he had any choice in the matter!

  "Agent Brok! Please do not diminish my already low opinion of mechanoids."

  "Yes sir, at once sir." The bot stammered, snapping to attention and leaving the scene.

  B45 then began to take his puppet drone out of the interrogation room. There wasn't much else he could do for the moment. Seeing as the Discourager device had done its job all to well in the end.

  "Hey you! Yes you, the flying trash can! So, YOU are the one who scared my grandpa!" Said an unfamiliar girly voice.

  B45 flinched with surprise, but quickly recovered. His drone body span with lightning speed to face the source of the disturbance. He had to admit that he had gotten too complacent, and whatever this was, had caught him off guard. That damnable bot Brok was influencing him more than he thought.

  In any case he was an AI, and as such he had more than enough computational speed. During the milliseconds it took for his puppet body to turn around, he had regained his composure, as well as analyzed the situation and devised multiple plans and contingencies.

  "Ah, Judiper Novikova, daughter of Radek Novikov. I was wondering when you would show up." B45 said with a calm measured voice. Facing the voice coming out from the speakers of the dark armor.

  "Spare me the theatrics, every kid with access to the internet could analyze my voice and determine my identity. And you were most certainly NOT expecting me." The voice of the teenage girl said with confidence.

  "I did saw that millisecond of indecision and surprise after I announced myself. You have to conceal your emotions much better than that in order to fool me!" The girl said with a half triumphant, half mocking tone.

  A surge of anger flared up inside B45’s digital heart. Who did this, this, human, think she was! She was nothing more than a meat puppet, a primitive biological, daring to confront a state of the art AI as himself. He was the pinnacle of evolution, none of the biological lifeforms or even his distant cousins the mechanoids could compare to his perfect design.

  Yet he did not let these feelings show. First, It wasn't proper of him to loose his cool in front one of his targets. And second, he didn't want to inform his very much human masters of these private feelings of his, the room was being recorded after all.

  Judiper Novikova, I assume you are the one who gave this fool your father’s armor. The sentence being more of a statement than a question.

  "Yea that’s right." Judiper figuring the same, but answering anyway.

  "And what would the purpose of that be? Plus, what was the point of shooting artillery fire towards the Generica walls? Young lady, you have hurt a great many people with your antics." The AI appearing to condemn her actions, but inwardly agreeing with the consequences. Yes there were no actual casualties, no one could truly die in the virtual worlds. Yet He was happy that so many humans suffered from the actions of this child.

  In any case, his words were designed with the purpose of engaging the teenage girl into a prolonged conversation. While on the background he used 140% of his substantial mental assets in order to track the connection back to its source.

  "First off, I did NOT shoot anyone or anything. Those internet pirates are obsessed with entering Generica. I warned them not to take the job and that the plan wouldn't end well for anyone, but noooo, why would anyone listen to a cute innocent girly… Bunch of idiots the lot of them!"

  B45 inwardly smirked as his verbal bait was all too successful in stirring the human girl’s emotions.

  "As to your other question of why I gave out the armor…" The girl paused for dramatic effect… "Well, to meet you of course. You are the latest chump charged with hunting me and my family. All of your predecessors had so far failed, but you, YOU, made it personal by attacking my poor grandpa."

  "Your grandfather is associating with criminals and will face the full justice of the Escaldian law." Another verbal bait, expertly executed to give him the precious few seconds he required to decipher the girl’s true location.

  "Yeeeah… I thought you would say that… By the way, I am aware you are tracking the connection, so I will make this short and crystal clear, so that even an all powerful AI would understand."

  And with that, the armored suit, along with its trapped and very much terrified occupant, broke away from the metal restraints. The black armor moving on its own with lightning speed, closing the distance between itself and the hovering drone.

  Meanwhile, thanks to his vast processing power, B45 watched events unfold in slow motion. If he could yawn, he would have. He considered moving his puppet away from the approaching suit, but at the end dismissed the idea. What was the point anyway? His true self couldn’t be hurt, and even if his drone was destroyed, the armor couldn’t escape the maximum-security facility they were in. If anything, this would provide invaluable data of the suit’s capabilities.

  Eventually, finally, the suit grabbed the metal frame of the drone with one hand, twisting the metal with the force of the grip, bringing it close to the alabaster white mask of the armor.

  "Don’t, mess, with, my, GRANDPA!"

  As the girl uttered the words, the bright green eyes of the mask flared up. Projecting a beam towards the ocular sensors of the drone and towards its master. Followed by an immediate mechanical shriek of pain.

  It seamed that whatever the armor used, it clearly went far beyond the obvious physical attack. The beam struck B45’s virtual essence directly, even if it was safely distributed in the cloud.

  Inside his virtual domain, the AI writhed in agony, his metaphorical body trashing uncontrollably from the excruciating pain. With immense difficulty he managed to divert all processing power to his firewall and antivirus software. Yet the measures did nothing to stop the mysterious energy ravaging his soul.

  After a few seconds, an eternity for his kind, the agony finally came to an end. B45 helplessly lied on the floor of his soul space, drooling like a vegetable and still shaking from his introduction to the once unfamiliar concept of pain.

  The final thing he saw before he passed into unconsciousness was the real life image of the girl, looming over his digital body.

  "Consider this a friendly warning. If you go after my family again, what you experienced now will be a walk in the park compared to what awaits you."

  And with that, the AI finally lost consciousness, immediately followed by the armor disintegrating into a cloud of pixels in the real world, taking its precious secrets away from the Solarian Government’s reach.

  …

  Amm… Are you okay, hello? The now fully nude Chris muttered with a timid voice, clinging to one of the metal spikes and nudging the unconscious drone with one foot.

  .