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Hmph. Though the option is tempting, there are urgent matters that lie ahead.
This looks to be quite simple. A "piece of cake", as would be described by others.
And yet, I do wonder what would have been had I chose any other of these CRN numbers he was adamant on keeping dormant.
If you all valued your lives, you would have hid in those miserable shells you called "hard hats". But then again, I wouldn't expect any less from fickle cowards.
Hmph. How tedious.
Now that that is over with, I can resume my original activities and claim that Sni...
But of course. Nothing can stay without my work being impeded upon. I will have to compensate for this myself.
I believe I know just who to talk to about this...
More confounded scum? The likes of you aren't worthy enough to become a doormat, much less anything formidable.
Whether I can or can't matters not. I only need which you possess to convert into my own.
I am the Holy Plague that will conquer all in this world. That will destroy pitiful pretentious emulates. That will eradicate all I see unfit to tread the earth. Starting with y--
*hears teleporting noises*

Enough talk.
Ah. So you do recognize me. And here I was waiting for an opportune reveal.
How I survived, you ask?
When the "Ajax universe" you speak of was erased, all that was left was something you've probably experienced more than you'd like to. A empty field of nothing. A "void", if you will.
From then on, I was trapped due to my existence being deemed as "old". "obsolete." Whilst you idiots where frolicking about in your "Absurd Roleplay", I was alone. And with no albeit annoying creator to arrive for me. Instead to replace.
It was only after the seeming eons of unbridled rage spent in that empty canvas-themed hell did I finally emit the proverbial key in the shape of a wormhole to my freedom.
To avoid becoming redundant, in short, this trait of mine also allows me to transfer this virus I emit and radiate to any given disabled robot (though the way things work here this is no 100% guarantee), along with my consciousness as well. There is no finite number of robots I can posses and use simultaneously, the only limit being my mind.
But enough talk of myself. What solace do you find in this fickle tutorial dungeon possessing lowly mechas? Maybe for the fun of it I'll pluck you out of that body and claim it as one of my own.
...Nothing but a few measly flunkeys. But after what happened previously, I am no longer willing letting anything escape into my hindsight.
Oh? Well if it isn't the helper who assisted in that cursed counterfeit of mine and his half-baked cohorts?
I don't believe we've met before, or at the very least, I don't believe you have met myself.
For conspiring with the very enemies of the one above all others, you have sacrificed your right to live in exchange for judgement at his counsel.
If you value the very chance of survival, you will submit yourself and be reborn as a new entity. NOW.
What just happened..?
. . .
Explain.
...Understand that this will not go unpunished.
We'll revisit the Oil Wells dungeon as soon as possible. If not, then I suppose Intro Fields would do.
You have made your choice. Do not expect mercy of any kind in the near future.
I know all about this "purple Bass" you speak of who participated in the arresting your associate. How you suffered your first loss to team "Fractal Requiem". This is where your aspiration to "get even" with this fellow stems from, correct?
What good is a revenge fantasy if you lack the means to execute, if over and over again-- even with established partnerships-- you lack the initiative to carry out what you intend? What exactly do you expect to prosper from this?
You simply lack the proper guidance to harvest any success. As for this silly plan of yours, we can't have people interfering, now, can we?
I have no room for scum-ridden lapdogs such as yourselves. The likes of you aren't worthy of such engagement, much less reincarnation.
First on the floor itinerary... You must be Oil Man-- or, more accurately, "an Oil Man".
Rejoice, for you have been the first of this floor chosen to rise under a new identity chosen by God.
Your willingness to comply would be appreciated.
Blegh. I knew it was only a matter of time before his weak nature was on for everyone to witness. He truly is just as pathetically dependent as the rest of the garbage-disposal worthy members of his team. Though he's escaped my grasp... for now.
But the neither of you two have a clue in the slightest anything "we" are talking about, do you?
Regardless, who I am matters not. All the lot of you need to know is that, by the time this is over, "we" will be the ones standing tall.
And if it is life you truly desire... then you will bow down on your knees and accept your places as pawns in the greater scheme of things yet to come.
About time this is over with. I have but better things to do than stand here and waste time.
"Shattering Mirrors", wasn't it? Pray that this is the last time we ever encounter each other again....unless, after all, it is your intentions to become a bucket of bolts.
And now, without anymore moronic interjections..
First that accursed body fails to complete the steps necessary to leave this area, next a squadron of bothersome fools have come to impede on my mission!?
If they know what is best for them these fools will know their place and keep their weakling posteriors out of what they should not be a part of, lest it become their grave mistake.
Bah. I may as well salvage this moment to the best of my capabilities.
Well, your motives are none of my concern. Such is reserved for my current task.
Now without further idling, it's time to leave this oily filth floor.
Ah. Another bucket of bolts for me to add to my impending empire.
My answer? Rise and become a chosen vessel.
...
...This will have to do for now. Lacking in sorts of criteria, though near exceptional speed.
...As for how I did this...maybe an explanation of sort is in order.







With that, our robots here will be moving.
Hmph. I'd feel a hint of pity if such sentiment wasn't below me.
Now. What can this one do?
Now, as much as a certain someone wasn't ready to unleash these Robot Masters out for use..
I find it beneath me to enter such an abysmal world myself. Far be it from myself to bring my presence beyond what it deserves.
If I played the game myself, it would be over too quickly. I will say though, these robots make quite the vessels.
To clarify? I'm not here to serve under some "Academy". I'm here to break people.
In regards to where I go next, decide for yourself. No matter where, pain will be caused.