Power Overwhelming

“Goliath!” The Taipan Riders leader waved at the now docile creature. It stopped in its tracks beside her.

The creature was large—deformed but humanoid in nature. It had visible limbs and a conventionally ugly face. And considering its receptiveness to voice commands, it seemed to possess some form of intelligence. Its naked body was covered in bright, multi-colored tubes and torn cables. Almost like it had just escaped from some sort of laboratory of unethical practices.

Even the creator knew about what was allowed in the Universal Revised Code of Ethics. He broke a few in his youth and all, but this was definitely not something that should’ve been allowed.

“I’m sure you don’t want to fight my little pet,” she called out. “Just send me a portion of your company shares. Make me a part of your little crew, and I’ll make sure you have an army at your disposal.”

“I don’t need a human army,” the creator said.

“But Goliath isn’t human anymore. He’s more than that, aren’t you sweetie?” She rubbed the creature’s arms lovingly. “Just fifty-one percent. That’s it. Better than being smashed into pulp by my little sweetie pie, eh?”

“And why would I do that?” Fifty-one percent was basically the entire company. She was asking for the whole damn thing.

“Okay.” She shrugged. “Don’t tell me I didn’t try.” She shot two times in the air. “Taipan Riders!” She grinned wickedly. “We’re murderin’ today!” And with a third shot, her army of goons rushed towards him with bloodthirsty eyes.

They had all sorts of weaponry from heat sabers and electric batons to simple-looking rifles and mid-ranged throwing discs. Most likely all stolen goods. Some had knives and spiked baseball bats with what looked to be homemade modifications, and a number of them had crudely fitted combat cybernetics that were just barely long enough to cover their elbows. Their weapons of choice seemed sketchy at best.

All of his AI drones and robotic assistants at his main office, at the very least, had defense systems that could cover medium to long distances. Whether it was a simple railgun, a laser beam, or just a pistol, they all had some form of range. The fact that these goons were lacking in any kind of complex guns told him everything he had to know about the sophistication of this battle.

The creator sighed. He was trying to give them a chance. Why did he have to break his oath of pacifism because of these idiots? Actually… He had a thought.

This is for self defense.

For what they had done to her son… Revenge? No. Just pure, unadulterated self defense. Mrs. Morgan’s emotional wounds were in danger after all.

As they started to close in, he couldn’t help but feel just a bit of excitement. It felt like he was young again. Perhaps he really was an old man… I’m sorry, Mother. Just this once, he was going to let it all out.

“System: activate Raijin Blood.” He smashed his fists together to wake up his dormant body. Glowing, red-hot ichor started coursing through his modified veins. His heart started to beat like drums. The skin on his arms started to steam…

The giant Goliath was first to arrive. The beastly creature rushed in, the wires still dragging along the surface of the parking lot.

The creator slammed his feet into the ground below, cracking the dry asphalt underneath. Then he cemented his legs and got into a proper stance to take the entire weight of the monstrous beast. And with open arms, he took the full brunt of the force.

The impact fractured the earth around him, but his legs held firm. And then, with a powerful shove, he redirected the beast away. It crashed into a neighboring building and slumped to the ground.

“No, sweetie!” the leader yelled. She rushed to the fallen Goliath.

For a creature that size, Goliath seemed quite fragile. But this was just the beginning. There were still a few dozen goons left remaining.

The first one ran in with a heat sword in her hand. She swung wide into the creator’s shoulders, but it just bounced off, instead burning his suit in the process.

“Damn it.” He quickly knocked her out. “This was limited edition.”

Another one dashed in with traditional brass knuckles.

The creator pulled back his fist. “Get with the times, young man. Brass knuckles are outdated by a century.” He then landed a solid punch to the attacker’s jaw. He went flying through the air.

Next, a group of individuals circled around him like hungry vultures. They held long, carbon fiber spears sparking at the ends with white, hot electricity. It reminded him of the historical attack patterns of the phalanx. Except this one wasn’t as coordinated.

As they pressed closer, the creator could feel the pressure they were trying to emanate. But to his highly modified exterior, their spears were mere toothpicks. They prodded and poked at his skin, but most of the shock just flickered out, dissipating into flashes of miniature fireworks.

He slapped a spear out of one’s hands and swung it wildly in circles. The group was effortlessly swatted away and dispersed like a bunch of electrocuted flies. Most fell to the ground, spasming out of control.

It was so easy. They were all so damn easy to beat. He could’ve sworn this was thrilling at first. Perhaps he was wrong.

The final stragglers pulled out their guns and discs. They dashed in all sides, taking turns hiding behind covers. Stray bullets bounced through the battlefield with no discretion for friend or foe. And the shots rang out in tiny tintinnabulations; some even ricocheted off scattered tin cans around the block. The few that landed, rebounded. None of it could pierce through his reinforced skin.

A few grenades were also thrown in his direction, but he swiftly caught them from the air and threw them back like he was playing an ancient game of hot potato.

Then Mrs. Morgan suddenly poked her head out of her apartment. “Are you alright, dear? Is it over yet—”

A bullet lodged itself into her door. The force knocked her a few steps back.

“Oh my. What was that?”

“No!” He rushed past all the ruckus. “In you go!” He hastily forced her back inside and slammed the door closed.

“Yeah, you got this sweetie!” It was the leader. “Throw that at him! Right there!” She instructed the now revitalized Goliath towards his direction.

The monster had grabbed a sizable chunk of concrete wreckage from the building it had initially crashed into. It was larger than itself. Then it heaved the rubble up above his shoulders and locked eyes with him. With strained effort, it hurled the entire block of concrete towards him.

He couldn’t dodge it. Mrs. Morgan was behind him. He had to block it. Somehow… Could he do it? No, he had to. There was no other option. He slammed his arms together and put up a solid guard. Then he placed one foot in front and the other, he stomped deep into the asphalt below. The ground crumbled away from his strength.

And then he braced for impact.

Within seconds, the enormous rock landed heavy on his arms. It was massive, but nothing he couldn’t hold back. He clenched his teeth and held firm. Nothing was getting past him. Not even the debris that was crumbling off the sides.

The pressure eventually started to ebb.

Suddenly, there was a roar—a ferocious battle cry. And another strong force slammed into the other end of the concrete boulder. It pushed him back even further. With every roar, he felt bursts of energy blasting him back closer and closer to the door. His legs started to slip, and the asphalt felt more like ground sand. But he held on.

And the rubble finally started to crack.

A line stretched down the middle, forming a rift like no other. Then it split in half, revealing an angry but fatigued Goliath behind. It glared back with murderous intensity, but it didn’t move. No, it couldn’t. He could tell. The shortness of breath, and its trembling legs…

It was over. They were both exhausted.

His body was drained. Legs had almost given out. Everyone who was still standing was gasping for breath.

“What are you idiots doing? Fight!” the leader yelled from the back. “Don’t give him any rest!”

The creator shook his head. What was the point of this? At the end of the day, they were just fighting for money. Something he’d never run out of in his lifetime. They were just hurting themselves trying to force it out of him.

“You,” he called out. “Why are you fighting? To what end?”

The leader sauntered over, finally realizing his fatigue. “To victory.” She pulled out another gun from inside her vest and aimed it at his head. “For the Taipan Riders.”

Then she pulled the trigger.