Zion's First Post

After looking at some old files, I found an old log of my first posts–which Zion doesn’t show up until 4-5 posts in. Here’s is Zion’s introduction–a symbolic fall from the heavens. Chuckling to myself right now as I read the typos and poor grammar. If I recall, my Sig used to be “MogXXX, Master Sword Moogle” which I changed to “Just MogXXX today” because I wanted to be cool like you guys.

Subject: Fallen Angel 1
Date: Tue, 06 October 1998 09:07 AM EDT
From: MogXXX
Message-id: 19981006090726.17808.00012209@ng91.aol.com

Such unholiness does an angel of death have, even in the ebony of space.

Morality, or the lack thereof, often allows for the purity of both sin and
charity to truly be accounted for and measured. For that mater, not only is
correct that such a battle should be brought into the cold and empty.
Abdiel Zion blinked. The fire of laser flashed across the screen, blinding
him. Although it was a powerful laser, it did not damage the craft-- only
showered it with light. That was the point of it, for within seconds of the
blinding light echoing over his craft, a large talon burrowed into the vessel
and pinned itself a fourth of a meter away from the pilot’s head. As the
talon pulled away, the gaping hole in the vessel began to vacuum the
materials out of the cabin.
By reaction, Zion Pulled his craft away, jerking it to a more defensive
position. He then thought for a moment– not too long of a moment mind you,
but a moment none the less. The pilot pulled out a fastened thermal blanket
from a compartment. He quickly stuffed it into the hole. The blanket was
nearly pulled out into space; however, it covered the hole completely Next,
he pulled out a vile from a small compartment above his head. Opening it, he
allowed it to be pulled into the vacuum. The blanket began to melt but then
harden into the shape of the hole. The whole course of actions served to plug
the hole.
Once done, Zion checked the system status screen a few inches below his
nose. Most of the weapons were damaged, the radar was broken, and power was
cut off to one side of the machine. The pilot glanced at the small window
that showed the darkness of space. His adversary was not to be seen– the
pilot of that craft mostly likely left Zion for dead. He paused for a moment
to check all the systems. The hydraulics where busted, there was no way for
his craft to switch to a faster mode to go chase after the aggressor. Not only
that, but the fuel was almost empty– the talon had cut though a fuel line,
Zion concluded. The air must be low as well.
"This is Seraphim 3. Unknown attacker disabled unit. Fuel and oxygen low.
Attacker is most likey heading your way. " spoke Zion into the communicator.
The pilot paused, only to hear nothing.
“Seraphim 3 in need a assistance.” spoke Zion once more. Still, nothing was
to be herd. Communications was broken as well. What did work?
One rocket was operational. There was still oxygen being pumped into his
space suit; however, the hole had taken out the pressure that was inside the
cabin. Radar was broken– only now did he realize that not only could he not
see anything, but no one else could see him. Zion tested the hydraulics.
Although they were supposedly broken, one armed moved.
The pilot was left with only one option: land. Zion turned on the rocket
once more. Using the controls, the pilot used the good arm to manually turn
the rocket’s fins in the proper direction. Within moments, the pilot was
falling into the atmosphere.
Zion hoped for a water landing.

Little Tony sat at one of the many beaches of Tansica. Although a bit

polluted, Tony liked the water. Every Sunday Tony’s mom would drive the boy
to the beach just to get the child to stop whining. This though always gave
Tony’s mom the excuse she needed to tell Tony’s dad when she left Tony at the
beach to do stuff with Tony’s mom’s secret friend that Tony’s dad couldn’t
find out about.
Tony took his stare off of the water for a moment and into the sky. He saw
an odd light in the distance– perhaps some sort of airplane? Tony found
himself walking into the water to get a better look at the falling light from
the sky. As it fell, Tony noticed that it began to fall after and faster.
When it fell to the point that it was about to hit the water, the boy could
swear that what he saw was a god, or at least a godly creature, falling from
the sky. When it at last splashed down, Tony did not take his eyes off of
the spot. The little child expected the creature to arise once more. To
Tony’s dismay. The angelic thing did not. Rather, as Tony jumped back in
disbelief, the thing traveled under the water until it beached itself a mater
away. The child ran to it.
“Are you ok?” asked Tony as he looked at the thing. It was in a human shape;
the thing had feet and arms and fingers– one finger was about the size of
Tony’s arms, he wagered– as well as a head. The head was caved in, as if
another creature griped it and pressed it in. Tony walked around it the
heavenly beast. It did not sir. On the other side Tony saw what looked like
blood crusted upon the breast of the creature. Was it lanced and tossed out
of the sky?
Suddenly, a large rumble emitted from inside the creature. What was going
on?

~MogXXX
(Just MogXXX today)

Subject: Fallen Angel 2
Date: Sat, 10 October 1998 08:26 PM EDT
From: MogXXX
Message-id: 19981010202624.03608.00001847@ng-fi1.aol.com

A panel flew away from the large being.  Tony stared in awe as he watched a

slim little man wearing an odd little space suit crawl out from where the
panel once covered. This man first looked at his new surroundings, then
fixed his eyes on the boy. Taking off his space helmet, the man spoke.
“Hey Kid, you have a phone or anything? I need to make a real important
call.” spoke the space man. Tony nodded, and without words the little boy
handed the man the phone he used to call his mom to pick him up from the
beach.
“Thanks kid, you’re tops.” spoke the man. The Man pushed a few buttons on
the phone, and began talking.
“Hey Charlie, this is Zion. Where am I? Never mind that right now. Look, I
was shot down by some dark seraphim fighter, and right about now he should be
almost at the factory. Get as many as you can on it right now. Ok? Good. Oh
by the way, you can pick up what’s left of the scrap metal you lent to me
at…”
The pilot turned to the boy, who was still staring in awe of it incident.
“Hey kid, where are we?”
“Paradise beach.” spoke Tony.
“Pick it up at Paradise beach. It wasn’t too badly damaged, mostly ya just
gotta patch a hole in it and bang out all the dents. Look Charlie– I’m on
this kid’s cell phone right now, I’ll call ya latter.” said the space man.
With that he hung up and handed it to the boy.
“Thanks again kid.” he added once more. After handing back the phone, Zion
took a few paces back and inspected the craft. With a whistle, he came to an
deduction.
“Some shit this thing can handle.” he muttered to himself. It was about now
that Tony mustered his mettle and asked the space man a question.
“What is that?”
Zion paused. The pilot hadn’t really thought about it himself. The space
craft he came in was not a true space craft in the sense, it could not travel
to far by itself. The craft had three defiant forms, one of a normal space
ship, one of a human shape, – the shape it was in now-- and then one of
something in between. Very few parts of it was made of normal materials.
“This thing?” asked Zion in return. He scratched his head.
"I dunno really kid. I was just told it was a Seraphim. But then that could
be like calling a bird a dove, or vice versa. " added the pilot. The boy
nodded.
Suddenly Zion fell to the ground. Crouching, the man shook his head.
“You ok sir?” asked Tony. Zion ruggedly nodded his head.
“Yeah… I’ll be fine… Just the pressure and gravity sorta has a toll on
you, but that thing–” the pilot paused to point at the seraphim, “-- kinda
reduces that.”
Zion sat up, and leaned against the side of the massive white machine. He
then motioned for Tony to sit next to him. Still in a state of bewilderment,
the boy did so. Zion held his hand out to the child.
“The names’ Abdiel Zion. Most people just call me Zion or Abe. Glad to
meet’cha kid.” said Zion. Tony looked at the man’s hand. Zion smiled.
“What’s a matter kid? My hand isn’t dirty or anything.” chuckled the pilot.
Cautiously, Danny shook hands with the pilot.
“My name is Tony.” said the boy. Needless to say Zion had a firm grip when
shaking. The man then examined the boy, and gave a puzzled look.
“Hey kid, how old are ya?” asked Zion. Tony crossed his eyes in thought,
then answered.
“I’m ten.” he answered. Zion scratched his head.
“Where’s your parents then kid?” asked the pilot. Tony shrugged.
“My dad is at work and my mom is with a friend.” said Tony. Zion crossed his
arms and sighed.
“Kid, when your parents come and get you, remind me to give them a word or
two about taking care to children.” added Zion stubbornly.

~MogXXX
(Just MogXXX today)

Posting some parts of a few posts ahead, 17 year old me’s version of a 27 year old interacting with an 10 year old is cute. It ends with the introduction of the sera-T and the the prototype trans-dimensional jump engine, which goes on never really work as initially boasted.

Subject: N/A 2
Date: Tue, 24 November 1998 11:24 AM EST
From: MogXXX
Message-id: 19981124112411.22261.00000049@ng-fi1.aol.com

The doorbell rang.  This startled Zion as he disposed of the burnt eggs into

the trash. Quickly throwing on some clothes, Zion rushed to the door. As he
opened it, he emitted a small yawn.
“Hey it’s the kid.” muttered the pilot to himself. Indeed it was ‘the kid’,
Tony from previous postings, who stood at the door frame of the Lioness’ den.
Zion motioned for the child to enter the home with the corrugated dark grey
carpet.
“What brings you here, kid?” asked Zion. The pilot had taken a few guesses
why though.
“I ran away from home. My parents don’t love me.” spoke Tony. Zion gave a
sigh as he rushed over to the leather sofa to put on his tennis shoes.
“You know what kid? I’m sure your parents like you in some way. They take
care of you at least.” Zion finished tying his shoes and pulling up his
socks.
“But guess what Kid? Some day you’ll be living in the world by yourself, and
it won’t matter at all what your parents think of ya.” spoke Zion as he stood
up. He flapped his arms to his side. “Did you bring anything with you?” asked
the pilot to the child. The boy shuffled a rather large sports bag into the
doorframe. Zion inspected it for a moment. It was a pretty decent looking
bag.
“I’ll tell you what kid.” spoke Zion as he pulled a jacket from the bag.
“I’ll let you see some cool stuff today. Then latter I’ll call your parents
and settle things out. Sounds good?” asked Zion to Tony. The boy didn’t
respond for a moment until he gave a faint nod.
“Good. Put on this jacket. There place we’re going has crummy air
conditioning.”

~MogXXX
(Doesn’t Post much, Doesn’t Write much.)

Subject: Rough Draft
Date: Sun, 06 December 1998 07:40 PM EST
From: MogXXX
Message-id: 19981206194024.01086.00001237@ng-fi1.aol.com

(This is may attmept at playing with Kupopolis Technology. Yell at me,
please.)

"Hey boss." spoke Zion to the nerd at the desk. Startled, Charlie typed some

gibberish on the screen as he looked up. Such actions faded from thought as
the nerd’s glasses reflected the glow of the computer screen to Zion’s
general direction.
“Nice to see you can make it on time for once Abe. Who’s that you have with
you?” asked Charlie to Zion. Charlie was one of the very few people who
called Zion ‘Abe’.
“This guy? He’s the kid. He let me use his cell phone when I got shot down.”
answered Zion as he looked down at the kid next to him. Tony nodded as he
looked about the large warehouse.
“So what do ya got for me?” asked Zion to Charlie. The nerd was nothing less
then hasty to rase his index finger in the air with glee. He sat back down
at his small metal framed, plastic surfaced, computer table and began to type
and click on things.
“We are sending you back up with the latest stuff Abe. Even with a one of a
kind seraphim fighter that I’ve been working on.” spoke the nerd. The sound
of his trappings of the keys along with the slide and click on the mouse
reflected and echoed off of the walls of the warehouse. The place has mostly
made of concrete– warehouses have a tendency to have concrete walls, with
only a roll up metal garage door to allow the small yellow rays of sunlight
to seep into the encasement. This warehouse held four rather large boxes
against one wall. Of these three boxes one was open. It’s contents laid on
the cold concrete floor hidden under a large fabric plastic roofing. At one
place dozens of cables protruded from under the covering to the back of
Charlie’s computer desk. Such a set up quickly calculated in Tony’s mind of
what the nerd’s profession was. Charlie was a something along the lines of a
Seraphim technician.
“Hey little boy, could you please pull the tarp off of the thing there?”
asked Charlie to Tony. Awaking from his daydream, the boy reached the plastic
sheet and pulled it off with all of his might. This took a small bit of time
and management. After time had passed as it normally does, little Tony was
able to pull the sheet off and reveal the new space flying apparatus.
“Holy shit. This thing’s gotta be the mustang of Seraphim.” muttered Zion
partly to himself. The off white standard of the other space ships where not
apparent in the model which stood before the trio of Nerd, Pilot, and Child.
This space vehicle, which took the form of a human sitting, was the
personification of a snow angel. The robot seemed to glow as it’s
metallic-plastic sheen reflected the little embers or light from the
not-so-far away
garage door. Charlie explained.
“This one is special. Me and some of the brains back at Diamond Corp got a
lease on a few of Eusic’s equipment and played around with it. What came out
is this.”
Zion begun to walk around the space craft in the same manner as he did
after he crashed his last one. Pleased, the pilot placed his arms to his
hips.
“So what top secret doohickey ya got installed in this one?” he asked. Zion
The nerd jerked his head and momentarily returned his gaze on his computer
desktop.
“Have the little boy run into The Seraphim, and you’ll see.” Spoke the nerd
with an attempt at sophistication in his voice. Turned to Tony, Zion raised
his hands in confusion.
“Go ahead kid.” spoke the pilot. The child looked at the two long enough to
call that moment in time a brief pause, then ran into the sitting robot.
“That just gets a kick out of me every time.” chuckled Charlie as he looked
at the gaping mouth of Tony. The Boy stood where the large robot sat seconds
before, only the robot was gone.
“Where did ya send the thing Charlie? Did ya use a some sort of fast moving
thingy?” asked Zion, the master of all things technical.
“I sent it to Foo.” spoke Charlie. Zion now shared the same puzzled look on
his face with Tony. Motioning for the kid to move, Charlie hit one or two
move keys on his keyboard, and the robot returned.
“Ok, come clean now. Explain the whole thing before I freeze to death.”
muttered Zion. The cold air of the warehouse somehow seeped back into his
mind.
“You know how the dimensional technology works, right?” asked Charlie before
the pilot could speak, the nerd continued. " Well, it has come into thought
that the dimension known as Foo, with it’s empty non-existent universe, can
be used as a gateway between dimensions. Likewise, dimensional technology
can be made to harness this ideas and jump from dimension to dimension,
unless devices are placed in a dimension to stop that from happening.
Dimensional ‘jumping’ technology however is very costly for every space ship
to have it."
“But that’s where you’re Seraphim fits in. The brains and I determined a way
how to cheat the technology. It’s hard to explain how to do it– my best
analogy would be that most dimensional space ships flow between the
dimensions like a trout in a river, but a Seraphim kinda skims across the
water like a running lizard or a spider. At any rate– not only can you go to
almost any dimension you want, but we played with it all a little so that it
can let you also ‘teleport’ and appear invisible. The invisible part is still not too
good though– Huey the test hamster I was using froze and exploded to death
because of the unknown variables when being in between two dimensions at the
same time. I think though that the new suit Jenn is working on will pretty
much fix that problem since it allows you to walk around perfectly at near
zero Kalvin temperature, but I still have to test that on Huey number
two.”
Charlie took a deep breath. “Any questions?”
“Yeah, you talk too much Charlie.” spoke the pilot. The nerd scolded Zion.
“You didn’t hear a word I said, did you Abe? You were just looking at this
thing all the time.” muttered Charlie Zion did not take his eyes of his new
Mercedes, but he managed to shake his head.
“Yeah I did. Teleport, dimension travel, invisibility, Huey blew up– I herd
it all.” muttered the pilot. Zion walked around the robot it one last time.
“Say, that’s it called?” he asked Charlie The nerd shrugged…
“We haven’t even made this one official yet, so it has no name.” spoke the
nerd. He then added. “The material we used for this one allows for a magnetic
shield. This pushes all matter away from it-- this is good when going between
dimensions so you don’t end up apart of a wall when you enter the next
dimension– so you can’t paint a name on it or it’ll just be pushed away like
the rest of the mater.”
“That’s ok. I’ll just call it Sera-T. The sera part is from Seraphim and
the T is for Tony. Right kid?” beckoned Zion to the child. Tony, who was
starting over the shoulder of Charlie at his computer, nodded in agreement.
“And it sounds like Serenity, so it’ll go with all that angel crap you guys
are pulling with the names.” joked Zion. Charlie chuckled.

~MogXXX
(Doesn’t Post much, Doesn’t Write much.)

Oh man, these take me back. There’s little things that I forgot – that Seraphim could transform, for one – and whatnot. This was fun, Mike; I think it holds up well and it’s great to see the beginnings of a thing that really became a Kupopolis staple. I’d love to read more if you got it!

Sure, I can post a few more later tonight.

In my head only certain prototypes could tranform, and those where the ones designed for long distance space travel. When we get back to kupopolis reborn, or an updated kupopolis, Clay was going to fly a new custom prototype that changes form, and mostly just be a shuttle. Kinda want to bring it back to the start and escalate back up slowly via plot.

[i]These are the initial public presentation of seraphim. They are described to be more like how we have become accustomed to writing about them: nearly indestructable, customizable, multipurpose land/air/space giant robots.

What’s funny that I came up with the number 4 million as the initial amount made. I think I didn’t understand the scope of the Kupopolis world yet. I think later this was retconned to 400 thousand or even four thousand, and many of those were ‘fake’ cheap knock-off machines that fell apart a few years in.

Gabriel was Diamond CEO #2 who took over after the founder was murdered, who was a puppet CEO put into place by a evil rouge Centurion subsidiary. [/i]

Subject: The Joker Card I
Date: Fri, 30 July 1999 10:55 AM EDT
From: MogXXX
Message-id: 19990730105537.25940.00001460@ng-bj1.aol.com

I Never realized that I come up with some really cool titles.

 It was all daunting.  As Zion reflected upon his life later, he realized

that it was never his thoughts and the unspoken moral code which he lived by
that got in the way, but those individuals who stood against his ideals.
Gabriel was one such person. The president of the Diamond Corporation stood
gallant and star gazed before a futuristic seraphim plastic designed podium,
ready to address the crown of future investors, reporters, and the general
public. The executive looked over the dinner hall at the top of the Diamond
building, and smiled a faint smile. This was his moment of glory, he thought.
This was what all those late hours, what all those negotiations, what all
those personal favors brought him to. He was about to change the universe and
he knew it. In his white suit fashionably cut like that of an actor’s, he
began his speech.
"Gentle people, what I bring forth to you tonight is an evangelist of
paramilitary protection. It was conceived with one man’s dream, and birthed
by the advance of technologies never thought of in generations past. I shall
be frank with you right now, it is not exactly spectacular in what we have
done in design, but rather how far we have advanced everything. We have for
you tonight a ‘vehicle’, if you will, which can take the blow of a missile
and
only be dented. The operating system is so spectacular that it never will
need to be upgraded. The normal run of the mill ‘vehicle’ will have 122
fiber-optic sensors, HEMO electronics, 2d to 3d graphic converters … we put
it all together.
“But the trademark would be our own patented designed polymer, Seraphim.
You have seen it in certain new items brought to you by our company – waste
baskets, safe boxes, and other small little trinkets. Little did anyone know
that the polymer used in that, advanced and prepared in zero gravity, could
be used in so many ways that I cannot stand here and tell them all to you.
It’s better that you saw it yourself.” spoke Gabriel. With that he
stepped aside. Letting a small white screen fall behind the podium, a unnamed
worker grabbed the stand as the lights were faded to darkness.

As you raced down the roadways this past year, you saw it– the unpretentious

word. You came to notice that it was everywhere, in the newspapers, on
billboards, in any place where an advertisement could be shown. It was
startling at first, but once you grew accustomed to it, you came to recognize
it as something common. In fact, it would make one insecure to be without it
today. It is that security which we hope to achieve with the true
Seraphim.
Seraphim– the name you know and trust. In the future, you will know it as
it’s namesake, a protecting angel.

The room was dark for a good minute. Gabriel wanted this– to build up the

final leap into curiosity. When the lights did go up again, twelve waiters
made their way about the tables set up in night club fashion, asking all
present which wine they preferred. The pilot, looking about in all the
activity, dared to pause beside a navy blue clothed buffet table and conjure
the experiences of recent events in his mind.

~MogXXX
(Who comes and goes like a soft zeyphir wind.)

“Yes, but why Zion? They’ll think you’re mormon.”

Subject: The Joker Card II
Date: Fri, 30 July 1999 11:00 AM EDT
From: MogXXX
Message-id: 19990730110014.25940.00001465@ng-bj1.aol.com

"Four million. Can you believe it Zion? Four million?" exclaimed Charlie to

the pilot. Zion sat on a small wooden chair set aside from the rest of the
computer furniture, examining a small trinket from a dissembled seraphim.
The computer man smiled at the screen, the faded blue glow reflected in his
own weary eyes.
“How many of those did ya program Charlie?” asked the pilot of the computer
nerd. Charlie sighed.
“I guess about… three million? I got this placed hooked up to work on a
hundred every hour now. It sure as hell beats the one at a time method I was
doing it with a half of a year ago.” muttered Charlie. He paused for a moment
to multitask, then added, “but then it helps when you’re your own boss of a
department. That’s what I like about Diamond– it’s like the perfect business.
“Gabriel wants to reorganize the streamline costs and efficiency once the
‘product’ is in higher demand.” muttered Zion bluntly as he moved the small
trinket in his hands.
“What? Come again?” asked the computer nerd. Zion sighed. Symbols flashed on
the screen indicating some small problem, but he ignored it. There was a good
twelve men helping now with all the tasks, and they were smart enough to
figure it out. The pilot fingered the trinket a small bit more before nearly
tossing it down onto the table.
“I don’t like him. I know that the eight others wanted to get someone who
knew something about business, but we’ve done so well in the past. And what
bugs me the most is how he wants to change everything… You know? Like
everything with him is marketing. He wants to sell, he’s not with the idea
like everyone else is. And I think everyone else is getting that way too.”
“He’s a businessman first, remember that Abe. Ten years ago when we started
all this, we just wanted to make something to help people. We weren’t too
concerned about making money. But now we’re helping a lot of people, and
more then ever we need someone who knows what ground were playing on,” spoke
Charlie. He paused to turn back to the glow of the computer screen, adding, "
I’ll tell you one thing Abe, we’re in Tansica, so we need a true
Tansican.”

~MogXXX
(Who comes and goes like a soft zeyphir wind.)

“Yes, but why Zion? They’ll think you’re mormon.”

Subject: The Joker Card III
Date: Fri, 30 July 1999 11:01 AM EDT
From: MogXXX
Message-id: 19990730110124.25940.00001468@ng-bj1.aol.com

"Any questions?" asked the true Tansican to the crowd.  A muddled and

confused mob seated in stared at the CEO, who was grinning with delight.
They expected more information, it was not told exactly what the product was
yet. A stale air grew in the dining hall, the inhabitants falling ill from
the lack of interest. One man gave out a long cough. Another sighed.
“What the hell is it?” Shouted one man at last. The voice belonged to one
J.J. Prattle, a leading journalist for a economy column. Due to his obnoxious
behavior and his cynical views, he was often not invited to such gatherings,
however his reputation made him publically notorious. For that reason,
Gabriel made it clear what he was to be seated in the center table.
“Pardon?” asked The President of Diamond. Mr. Prattle stood.
“I asked, ‘What the hell is it?’,” yelled the obviously bedeviled man.
Gabriel smiled. With his index finger he pointed at two men on the side, then
back at Prattle.
“Please move sir.”
“What? You can’t answer such a stupid question?” mocked the journalist. The
CEO only waved the comment aside with his wrist.
“No, I need you to move to another table. You’re sitting on the control
area,” explained Gabriel. Zion knew that was his cue. He took a deep breath
and left the room.
Without another word, the journalist was abruptly moved to another table,
and the table itself was collapsed and tossed aside. A small computer was
revealed from under the table, the shape of which was similar to that of a
very old arcade game counter. With a few hits of the keyboard the ceiling
began to collapse into the walls, and then the wall dropped to the floor. An
ample number of employees, not present before, rushed to fasten and check
all collapsed walls. Within minutes, a head was nodded to the engineer in the
middle of the room, and a command was placed into the computer.
A piece of classical music began to float into the dinning platform. At the
four sides of the roof of the Diamond building mist spouted to from walls
three feet high, falling sightly outwards to land down on the ground hundreds
of feet below. Before JJ Prattle could even dare to utter, ‘Yeah, so what?’
Four robots roughly the size of a minivan each jumped into the sky, only to
pause and hover a few feet to every side above the Diamond building.
The gasps, the awe, and the confusion created by the ‘display of bravado’
was exactly what the CEO counted on.
“These, you see, are Seraphim.” spoke Gabriel in the same voice he spoke to
Mr. Prattle before. With those words spoke one last Seraphim robot different
then the others leaped into the air and did not stop upon decent. It flew
above the stage where Gabriel placed himself, high enough to barely be seen,
and then descended down to where Prattle’s table once stood. Doing two
somersaults, it suddenly decelerated to fold it’s arms and pose as it
slowly hovered down. Wavering three inches from the control computer, it
looked menacing as it scintillated brightly.
“Yes, they are robots. They are different then most other robots, they are
adaptable. They can go on land, sea, air and space. Their ‘limbs’ can be
replaced with various tools to fit whatever need desired. Their CPU and
operating system learns-- it recalls all the movements done by the pilot and
the situation it was in when it was done, and almost predicts how to move
with the pilot. It’s almost as if the Seraphim becomes and extension with the
pilot itself.”
“All fine and dandy, but how do we know that without a demonstration?” asked
J.J. Prattle. Another man, an disguised employee, stood to say those same
very lines before Prattle beat him to it.
“Very well.” spoke the president of Diamond Company, nodding to the
engineer. The fifth robot suddenly hovered upwards, and when it was nearly
100 feet up, it blasted away into the sky, followed by the other four.
Gabriel smiled as the crowd stood up to get the last glimpse of the robots
before they left the atmosphere. As they did so, a small tent was being set
up to allow for a holographic viewing of what the five robots in space were
doing.

~MogXXX
(Who comes and goes like a soft zeyphir wind.)

“Yes, but why Zion? They’ll think you’re mormon.”

Poor Zion. I’d kinda forgotten the details of the bit with Gabriel rising to power and how it complicated stuff. And Zion, back in his early days.

The dude is Kupop’s Amuro Ray.

[quote=“Tex”]Poor Zion. I’d kinda forgotten the details of the bit with Gabriel rising to power and how it complicated stuff. And Zion, back in his early days.

The dude is Kupop’s Amuro Ray.[/quote]

Yeah, guy works at Diamond for several years as a contracted security guard, becomes bros with everyone–even the CEO–and lands a sweet test pilot gig. Then when his Boss bro gets murdered he convinces his other office bros to give him controlling stock in the company and becomes one of the most wealthy AAA CEOs by selling war machines to the Grand Amy and peddling consumer goods to the masses. I think in one of the last posts I had him popping xanax.