Bassiroth

It was another day in the Farmer's Market city of Amour City. Kai had earlier suggested he and Ebran go on patrol together. Ebran had agreed, seeing it as another chance for them to spend time together. They had come back to Farmer's Market initially to check on the damage from the battle they had before with Jet, his Biometals, and the mysterious woman with them. Roselle didn't join them due to deciding to spend the day with her younger sister. Right now, however, Kai and Ebran were near the edge of the city, near the highway, fighting a new Pseudoroid. A Tree-based Pseudoroid named Woodland the Cyprusroid. This Maverick had chosen to attack the main highway between Farmer's Market and the Main City, using other Mavericks hidden in the forests along the sides of the road. Woodland looked like he was modeled after a Cyprustree, with conical sections made up of artifical leaves on his head and what looked like his "arms." His legs looked like a pair of giant roots, but they

Saturday rolls around once again. The past week has been a crazy one, what with the destruction of four different Pseudoroids at the very least, but there have been rumors of two more that may have been destroyed in that time frame. Sometimes it was hard to tell, given how similar Pseudoroids look to any other large Maverick. Not helped by the fact that these other two were destroyed near the properties of Beowulf Enterprises, and they've been giving authorities difficulty in getting a straight answer or being allowed to investigate those locations. But Ebran and Roselle didn't want to think about any of that today. Most people don't want to think about work on the weekend after all. Last Saturday was spent by the two of them working, not just taking down two of the Pseudoroids, but also helping new recruits get situated in the Hunters Guild and Guardians, respectively. This Saturday was just going to be the two of them enjoying a date together in the sub-city affectionately called

There was fire. Fire had erupted everywhere. The Capital City was covered in flames, as airships and war Mechanaloids of opposing factions fired at one another. Guardians were not meant to get involved in wars such as this one, be they between nations or be they civil wars themselves. They were supposed to investigate and deal with Maverick Outbreaks. But to the teenager clad in red armor, that didn't matter. This day looked no different than the day he lost his parents. But unlike back then, he had a new power to protect those he loved and cared about in this city. While he felt no strong allegiance to the Emperors of Orchestra or to Legion and the Sage Trinity, the self-proclaimed Supreme Commander Julias of the enemy faction had gone too far in trying to present his opinion on the state of the the world. The power the teenager held in his hand, the power that was now surging through his body, this power was gifted to him by his late parents. The Power of Biometal. Biometal Model

Not too far off from Raiders Town, there was a private military base. This facility wasn't exactly owned by any national army so much as it was one of Beowulf Enterprises' many facilities. It was once a military base, but it was abandoned after the Maverick Raids started by Serpent almost 15 years ago had wrecked Raiders Town. A few years later, this former military base was bought out by Beowulf Enterprises and was refurbished and used for a variety of purposes. Despite Raiders Town being the heart of many unsavory sorts, the base was fortified enough so that no common criminal could break in. "If the rumors are right, then they've got a new large-scale military airship with a new fancy experimental cloaking device in the works," Sigmund said as he was looking over data for the place on his computer. Jet looked over Sigmund's bulkier shoulders. Hard to believe that the youngest guy in their group, and such a tech wiz at that, would have such a large growth spurt in the years

It was almost midnight. On the rooftop of the cold night air stood a man wearing a dark blue trench-coat covered in several different badges and patches. One in particular over the right side of his chest read "Commissioner". Police Commissioner Jacob O'Malley was standing out there in the cold evening air. It wasn't too long after the start of April, and the weather had been mostly cloudy today. The temperature felt to be somewhere within the latter 50's or so Fahrenheit this evening, a bit unusual for this time of the year.         This officer was somewhere within his early 60's, but the wrinkles on his face made him seem older. He was certainly a bulky looking old Reploid, was probably very muscular in his prime, but age and years with more desk duties than field work had made his muscles gone lax. He took off his cap and tucked it into the pocket of his trench-coat to smooth out his brushed back silver hair. He kept most of his hair trimmed short, and had a bushy silver