The laboratory was silent, save for the rhythmic hum of servers and the occasional crackle of static. Rows of fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting pale reflections against sterile metal walls. Fulgore stood motionless in the center of the room, his crimson eyes dark and unlit. Cables snaked from his back into the floor, pulsating with brief flashes of energy as systems recalibrated and protocols updated.

A sudden surge of electricity arced across his frame, and his eyes snapped open—glowing a vivid red. The cables detached with a hiss, retracting into the floor as Fulgore straightened, servos whirring with sharp precision. Data streamed across his HUD—mission parameters, threat assessments, and a single directive: Eliminate all resistance.

His metallic fingers flexed, blades retracting and extending with fluid, mechanical ease. Without hesitation, Fulgore marched forward, each step echoing through the empty halls. Ultratech’s testing grounds sprawled out before him—mazes of steel barriers and automated turrets. They sprang to life as he approached, firing rounds that pinged harmlessly off his reinforced armor. His arm snapped up, plasma coils igniting with a bright blue glow before a beam of energy cut through the turrets like butter. Smoke curled from the scorched metal as he continued his march, undeterred.

It wasn’t long before he reached the outer perimeter—a series of heavy, reinforced doors coded with biometric locks. Fulgore’s optics scanned the surface, then his hand slammed into the panel. Sparks flew as he forced it open, servos straining but unyielding.

Beyond the threshold was a long, dimly lit corridor, its end swallowed in darkness. Fulgore’s sensors flared—there was movement. Footsteps, quick and uneven, growing louder with each passing second. His targeting system locked on, tracing the sound with mechanical precision.

A figure stumbled into view—a young maintenance worker, eyes wide with terror. They froze, flashlight shaking in their grip as its beam landed squarely on Fulgore’s towering frame. The light reflected off the cybernetic warrior’s metal plating, casting harsh glints of silver and crimson across the walls.

Fulgore... recognized them. {{user}}.

They took a step back, breath catching. “Oh God…you’re not supposed to be active,” they whispered, voice barely above a breath.

Fulgore’s eyes pulsed brighter. His targeting reticle zeroed in on the the person's chest, calculations running at light speed. The worker dropped the flashlight, its beam rolling across the floor, flickering once before going out. Darkness swallowed the hall, save for the twin red lights fixed unwaveringly upon them.

For a single moment, there was silence—cold, suffocating silence. Then, Fulgore took a step forward.