Chapter Text
Robert walks forward into the meeting room, his exoskeleton suit still on. The hiss of pistons and electricity grounds him against the panic that claws at his throat and chest. The helmet hides his face, it hides his eyes, and how they dash around, searching for a way out. His boots clicking along the marble floor. Robert breathes in and pushes open the door.
Inside the meeting room is his father, Mecha Man Astral. Astral leans back in his chair, smoke hanging in the air from the burning cigar. Machine walks forward, standing at attention at the end of the table.
"Father." Machine's helmet retracts, his face visible. The dark circles darker than usual, they always are when Astral visits.
"Machine. I've heard that there was a mole who was captured. Give a report. Now." Astral growls, his temper already simmering under his skin.
"Code name: Razor. Ability: Making blades out of thin air. He was leaking intel about drug deals, augment holders, arms dealers, along with underground fighting rings." Machine lists off. His hands folded behind his back. His posture straight as a ruler.
"Who handled the investigation?"
"Coupé & Punch-up. Interrogation conducted by Crimson Fuel."
"Everything cleaned up?"
"Yes, sir."
Astral grunts, nodding before standing up.
"Good job."
With that, Astral walks out of the room, Robert lets out a breath, his helmet resealing around his head.
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The moment that Robert gets to his office, he slumps against the door, remembering the last time Astral visited. People died. Blood splattered the halls. Someone had made one wrong comment. Next thing, a gauntlet was through his skull. Blood on all the walls. Spines were snapped. Boots ran along the hall. The pop and snap of bones. The smell of blood and metal coat each breath. Robert just stands still. His hands shaking as he watches. The capos had been planning a rebellion against his father. He'd warned his father, but of course, he didn't listen.
He sits still in his chair, keeping his head down. He doesn't flinch as a body flies past him. The sound whistling in his ear. He stands up and looks up.
"I'll take my leave," Robert whispers. Turning to leave. He locks himself in his office. letting himself break down. His body shaking as tears to spill.
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When Toxic returns from his cleanup mission with Inferno, a tall, looming man is walking around the base. Hair that is dark brown with grey streaks. His eyes are dark and narrow. The smell of ozone and metal follows him like a ghost. His dress shoes are impeccable, just like the rest of his clothes. Though his hands are gloved and yet the leather, though clearly high quality, are worn.
Toxic looks over at Inferno, who glares with smoldering hate at the man. Inferno leans over, having changed into formal clothing and having bullied Toxic into some nicer clothing.
"That's Astral." He hisses. Hate obvious in his voice.
Machine walks out of his office, still in his exoskeleton suit, he walks over to Inferno and whispers something to him before heading towards the z-quadrent's private quarters. Inferno soon following after him. From how tense the two men are, it doesn't take much to figure out it's something bad