Alas, Stark walked on the beach. His sharp leaves hovered and followed him. His energy channeled through them.
In front of him, thousands of cyborgs lined up.
Commander Number 3 was among them.
"I am Stark, a nine-year-old boy from The Sacred Forest. I'll defeat you, and you will pay for what you've done," Stark declared with fury in his eyes.
The Evil Cyborgs glared back at him and sneered with sinister thoughts.
Just then, the boat started and departed to the sea.
"Shoot that boat, down," Commander Number 3 ordered.
The Evil Cyborgs fired their lasers at the boat.
Stark touched the ground and yelled, "Rock Walls! Rise!"
Suddenly, walls of solid rock split the sand and exploded out in front of him. They blocked the view towards the boat. Lasers pierced through them.
"Shoot them down," Commander Number 3 quickly demanded and narrowed his eyes. He charged his own laser gun.
The Evil Cyborgs shot the Rock Walls.
After destroying one, another wall stood behind it.
Commander Number 3 gritted his teeth and fired.
Laser Beam traversed and pierced through multiple walls, all of them. It slowly dimmed and dissipated away.
A plume of smoke rose into the air from the shore.
The boat sailed towards the horizon and sunset.
In the smoke, Stark stood firm with dozens of leaves floating beside him. His headband flowed with the wind.
The smoke cleared, and the sunset gleamed behind him.
"I always kept my secret technique hidden due to its adverse effects. However, after the Zombies War, I realized what it was, and I sought to control it. This seems like the right time to use it," Stark alleged, and steam oozed out of his nose alongside his breath. He bent his knees and held his arms to his side. He bent his elbows and groaned with ferocity. His body trembled, and he exclaimed, "I like to call it... Rage!"
The cyborgs were alarmed. They slowly stepped back with terror evoking in their widened eyes.
"All my cyborgs! Fire," Commander Number 3 urged, and he gritted his teeth.
"Razor Leaves! Go," Stark roared. Large amounts of energy burst out of his body.
The leaves glowed with energy. Razor Leaves spun and flew towards the cyborgs. They sliced through multiple cyborgs.
The Evil Cyborgs fired back with their lasers.
Stark took a deep breath, and his body hardened.
The lasers hit him all over. On impact, smoke and steam surrounded the collision.
The Evil Cyborgs watched in anticipation while they recharged their laser guns.
Commander Number 3's sensors went haywire and indicated: DANGER! ENERGY SIGNATURE HIGH! RETREAT IS NECCESSARY!
Instantly, loud steps on sand echoed across the battlefield.
Stark paced out of the smoke. His clothes partly singed off and revealed his muscular upper body. His veins popped out, and dark markings spread out on his skin. With tenacity, he glared at the army of wicked cyborgs and stepped forward. In each footstep, the sand exploded into the air.
The Evil Cyborgs were immediately demoralized.
"We shot him with everything we got," one of them stammered.
Completely intact, Stark suffered just a couple of small burns. His dark markings emanated and pulsed red. He breathed out steam.
A cyborg stumbled back, and her face darkened. "He's not human! He's a monster," she accused in a frantic state. She yelled and ran away.
Most of the other cyborgs followed.
Commander Number 3 recognized their dilemma and rallied, "Stay, my cyborgs! Let me tell you something valuable."
The Evil Cyborgs stopped to listen.
"You can run away, but don't forget. You have left your commander down," Commander Number 3 explained.
The Evil Cyborgs furrowed their eyebrows and turned to him.
"Who's responsible for your species' success? I am," Commander Number 3 alleged and continued, "Without me, you, all, would have been nothing but scraps of metal. Because of my leadership, you are now something more, and you are feared by the other species and humankind, your own creators. I have conquered much of Stribora with you, and you've have made a name for yourselves in this war. Maybe you've done enough."
Feeling regretful, The Evil Cyborgs frowned and shook their heads.
"That's right. It's not enough," Commander Number 3 affirmed and proclaimed, "Running away from this fight and your commander will make everyone else see you as mere cowards." He scoffed with disdain and declared, "You could do as you wish, but I will choose to stay and fight! Fight for our cause and make a world of machines by myself if I must." He pointed his sword at Stark and announced, "I will defeat you."
With remorseful faces, The Evil Cyborgs exchanged looks, and they turned back around.
Feeling guilty for abandoning their commander, one of them begged, "Please forgive us, commander!"
Other joined in and pleaded for forgiveness.
Commander Number 3 kept his glare forward and suggested, "Prove your honor, and prepare to fight."
The Evil Cyborgs ran back to their positions. As the wind blew, their faces became determined.
"Fire," Commander Number 3 urgently ordered. His eyes were wide.
Stark braced and jumped high towards them, evading the lasers. He landed harshly in the middle of the wicked cyborg army, and he gave them a menacing glare.
Sand swept away and buried the nearby cyborgs.
Stark lunged and punched a cyborg in the face.
With his head smashed, the cyborg flew towards dozens of other cyborgs and crashed.
Relentless, Stark adjusted his footing and lunged repeatedly. He punched multiple cyborgs.
Dozens of cyborgs launched in different directions. They struck others down in their demise.
Commander Number 3 growled and charged his laser gun. "Let's see you handle my Laser Ball," he muttered and fired.
A big laser ball traversed the field of sand at high speeds. It disintegrated anything it touched.
Stark noticed and stopped the Laser Ball with his hands. His hands burned, and he groaned with anger.
Laser Ball steadily pushed him back until it dimmed and dissipated.
"Ow! My hands," Stark complained and blew air on his hands.
Stunned, a cyborg commented, "Not even our commander's Laser Ball deterred him in the slightest." He sweated in dread.
Stark glanced at Commander Number 3 and leaped towards him.
Commander Number 3 swung his giant sword and hit Stark back to the sand.
Stark crashed far.
Sand burst into the air.
Suffering no cuts, Stark groaned in pain. His insides still hurt, and he slowly stood back up. "I won't be able to keep this much longer," he asserted and took a deep breath.
Commander Number 3 charged his laser gun once again and shot a Laser Beam. "How about this," he yelled in exasperation.
Stark planted his feet on the sand, and he reached out with his arms. He stopped Laser Beam from disintegrating him with his hands. Energy pulsed through his body. He screamed as his hands burned. His eyes widened in desperation.
Laser Beam easily pushed Stark back, across the battlefield.
Commander Number 3 grunted with struggle.
Smoke rose from his laser gun, and it overheated.
Laser Beam disappeared.
"Darn it. Come on," Commander Number 3 cursed and shook his weapon.
Completely exhausted, Stark kneeled and panted. He stared at the sand and returned to his normal state. His arms bled. He glanced at one of his hands, and his palm was entirely charred.
The Evil Cyborgs swarmed Stark with overwhelming numbers.
A foot smashed against his knee, and a fist impacted with his gut.
Without a shred of mercy, The Evil Cyborgs beat him up.
In a bloody mess, Stark laid on the sand and writhed in agony. All of a sudden, he witnessed a vision.
In a dark laboratory, two cloaked figures conversed next to an operating table.
One of them had long, curly, and thick hair and carried a long sword on his back. It was The Exalted One.
The other one had a hood over his head. His dark metallic hand stroked the hair of a corpse on the operating table. He chuckled wickedly and asserted, "This one will become my Number 3."
The Exalted One stared at Number 3's old human body and nodded. "Are you sure he will get the job done," he queried.
"He will lead The Evil Cyborgs to victory over the humans. It's only a matter of time," the metallic figure claimed confidently and sneered creepily.
"Will he get programmed to kill Darius? He took our prized possession, and we need The Union in power to reboot the factories," The Exalted One asked and clarified.
The metallic figure glanced at him in wonder. He laughed and affirmed, "Yes, just as I planned, sir."
The Exalted One smiled. "Keep this a secret for now. We can't have her find out," he urged.
"Don't worry. I plan to persuade and use her for the others, my elite cyborgs," the metallic figure revealed and giggled with sinister intentions.
Snapping back to reality, Stark gasped. His body quivered and burst with unfound energy. His chest pounded and heaved heavily.
Commander Number 3 approached and halted. He frowned with concern and a sudden strange feeling, dread.
In an instant, large spiky vines sprouted from the sand and wreaked havoc in the battlefield. They struck and impaled hundreds of cyborgs.
Cyborgs exploded all over with energy.
Stark floated back up inside a tornado of leaves.
"What happened to you? What's going on," Commander Number 3 demanded to know.
Stark breathed heavily and regained his composure. He stared at his body in awe. "I can't believe it! I haven't felt like this since the final battle against Zombie Queen." He grinned and raised his fist in front of him. "I'm going to call this technique Flora Overgrowth."
A thick vine wrapped around Commander Number 3's legs, and its spikes stabbed into his legs. More vines sprouted around him.
Commander Number 3 groaned in pain. With his sword, he sliced the vines, and he clenched his teeth.
Stark softly landed on the sand.
Leaves revolved around him. They continuously shot towards Commander Number 3.
Commander Number 3 blocked the onslaught with his arms. In a cloud of smoke, he asserted, "It seems I have no choice. I won't hold back any longer." Out of the smoke, he lunged and swung his giant sword at Stark.
Stark dodged out of the way and ran farther away.
A contraption opened on Commander Number 3's other arm. He dropped his gun and aimed his arm at Stark. Out of the hole in his arm, energy oozed out, and a giant minigun materialized.
The giant minigun swiftly rotated and shot giant bullets at Stark. It crackled with bursts of energy.
Stark's eyes widened, and he crossed his arms to block the bombardment.
The giant bullets easily broke through his guard, and each of them hit and flung him back.
Stark bounced off the sand.
More giant bullets struck him.
Stark flew and rolled to a stop. He laid with Flora Overgrowth gone.
A humongous plume of smoke covered the battlefield. The vines and leaves withered away and dispersed into the atmosphere as energy.
Commander Number 3 sighed and approached his greatest foe, yet. "You almost proved to be a worthy adversary, kid," he remarked.
Stark's body twitched. He spat out sand and blood. He groaned in fury and slowly got on his hands and knees.
Cyborgs, around him, cowered away in fear.
"How are you moving," Commander Number 3 questioned with a stutter. He narrowed his eyes.
Stark stared at Commander Number 3, in the distance, and muttered, "I can still fight." Attempting to stand, he struggled and pressed his feet against the sand. He pushed with all he had left. However, his body gave out, and he fell back to the sand. He grunted and murmured in a guilty tone, "I won't give up." He must win, for he brought the battle upon The New Heroes.
Commander Number 3 cautiously loomed closer.
Defeated, Stark finally lost consciousness.
Commander Number 3 crouched and checked on him. "He fought to the end, but it was not enough. His body will be of great use. I will save him for myself," he commented and stood up.
The Evil Cyborgs gathered around him.
In the aftermath, Commander Number 3 raised his sword and rallied, "We have won again, and I'm willing to wager this will remain our toughest battle to victory! Yet, we stand strong! Nothing can stop us!"
The Evil Cyborgs cheered and celebrated.
"We will head north to the Grand Capital of Stribora and capture the epicenter of corrupt humankind, The Capital. We'll kill the supreme commander there and make a world of machines," Commander Number 3 declared with purpose.
Simultaneously, Hafen and Matteo sailed past the horizon on the boat.
From Hopeshire Fort, cloaked figures stood on its towers and observed what transpired.
"Those two are escaping," one of them muttered and scowled.
The metallic cloaked figure was among them, and he reassured, "No need to worry about two kids. Right now, we have bigger priorities." He gazed down at the returning elite cyborgs.
Number 4 and Number 5 dragged bodies and entered Hopeshire Fort.
The metallic figure walked away and informed, "I'm going to get quite busy." He held a malevolent smile.
Number 7 stood by and followed behind him with enthusiasm. "My sister is coming back, right," he interrogated with a squeal. His voice became quieter as he left.
The cloaked figure, who spoke earlier, asserted, "Well, I also have to get back to my faction."
"Wait," a feminine cloaked figure urged and peered at him. "Don't forget to bring my princesses next time," she pleaded and turned to him. Her scarlet hair flowed out of her hood.
The cloaked figure growled and insisted, "They deserve to die." He stomped away, and drops of water trickled from his cloak.
The feminine cloaked figure narrowed her eyes and smirked.
Hafen and Matteo set out on a journey to gather reinforcements to stop The Evil Cyborgs from their conquest of Stribora. They only have a few months before the fall of The Capital and end of humanity altogether. Where are they headed? How will the war end? Which side will emerge victorious? Will there be peace in the world?