Sunday
Mar072010

Round Two - Main Sequence Fight Four - The Delegation Versus Psynoceros


The Delegation has left the station after making repairs from its battle with the Walrus, and has just sent us a message informing us that it it waiting in Jupiter's lower atmosphere, ready for us to send our best work against it.

We thought it was only fair to triple the budget of the German team in response, in the hope that their efforts can defeat a creature willing of descending into the bowels of a gas giant at will.

We have done or best, and created PSYNOCEROS. 

What's new with the German entry? Let's see.

Every brain in Berlin Zoo wired into a monstrous Psy-cannon, amped up with vast amounts of crackling energy, and reinforced to mount a telekinetic opposition to The Delegation. And that's a whale brain at the end of the gun.

Apart from that, old Kriegbehemot is now virtually a land battleship, ironclad and armed with multiple conventional weapons turrets.

He will fight The Delegation on a metal platform tethered in the dead centre of Jupiter's red spot, with thick orange fog pouring over everything at hurricane speeds, and lightning raging in the clouds.

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We're having a little trouble getting live feed from our live cameras at the fighting platform, due to ion storms in the Red Spot, but we expect to have them online in around ten minutes.

Our megaspace scanning units are giving a firly good signal through Jupiter's atmosphere, however, and show that everything is going to plan.

Psynoceros appears to be squaring up to the Delegation (represented here in fetching Cyan), but no shots have been exchanged as yet. It appears some kind of dialogue is going on...


Ah, well... that was easier than expected. Looks like all that Prussian artillery did win out over futuristic psi-horror in the end, after all.

Ok then, looks like we can happily move on to the loser's league rumble - what a jolly easy fight.

Oh, shit.

Live feed coming through, 3... 2... 1...

Blinding orange light floods into the bar, and our spectators are confronted with a scene of desperate battle, in a world of crushing pressure and searing heat.

From out of nowhere, a dozen giant cuttlefish of the same specification as The Delegation have emerged and begun to assault Psynoceros.

Designed with a single opponent in mind, the Prussian Powerhouse struggles to repel the onrushing hoarde, unleashing volleys of German steel from his machine gun turrets.

Nevertheless, the malevolent cephalopods swarm and duck around the embattled behemoth, ripping off armour plates and battering internal organs with relentless precision.

The battle rages on, and Psynoceros begins to take the advantage; crushing, goring and perforating until no more adversaries flock to replace the fallen. He is fatigued, and bleeding from a hundred wounds, but his flimsy enemies are turned into paste by his renewed fury...

Psynoceros' last opponent quails at the sight of his ruined comrades, and turns to flee into the mist.

Bellowing in triumph, the armoured warbeast breaks into a thunderous gallop and makes his pursuit...

Oh, SHIT.

A black wind roars from the heart of the Red Spot, and the clouds burst apart before the fighting platform.

Illuminated in a shaft on treacly light, a vast invertebrate gyrates in the Jovian deeps, flanked by a battery of cuttlefish drones. It booms out a mournful cry in all frequencies, and considers the challenger that has come to face it down.

It seems that whatever fought in Round One truly was a mere delegation...

 

The Rhineland Rhino stands fast and resolute, while his revealed opponent gathers sweeps of gas around him in a tornado of psychic energy.


With a flicker of his bulbous, calculating eyes, the monster whips his tentacles upward, and conjures forth a wall of rolling vapour that surges towards Psynoceros...


From the turbulent mist rises the phantom of a great dark swan, flapping with moist wings and screaming with a methane beak.

Psynoceros shivers at the horror of the sight for the faintest moment, then sets himself square and charges at the apparition, plunging through it in jangle of heavy iron plate.

The ghostly swan retreats into the mind of the delegation's master, which now makes a slow glide towards the Prussian...

Realising he faces an opponent without fear, the vast quid spreads its tentacles inquisitively and hovers before the rhinoceros, quashing it with a telekinetic field to prevent mass ordnance launch, before intoning in a rumbling mechanical voice:

"We are Seanet. You are not the one we seek. You fight well, and may choose not to die. We will find the one we seek, and that will be our business.

The monster sinks below the clouds once more, and awards Psynoceros the match ...

Picture

Psynoceros wins

Just to clarify, Seanet has not done a wolfbike - from what we have ascertained, it has no interest in lowering itself to the anarchy of an arena rumble. It has merely stepped aside from the tournament for the time being.

On a lighter note, just to be on the safe side, we're shelling the shit out of Jupiter. To celebrate, any cocktails containing methane gas are at half price.

END OF ROUND 2