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- The parts of the huge mech rearranged until Ro-Tor was looking at a huge decapodian. Then they shifted again, and he became a kind of tank-thing. Three missiles rocketed out, looped around, and streaked into the rear wall. Rampage’s spatial sense must have been better than Ro-Tor’s, because there was gritty daylight streaming through the hole he’d made. “Now, git,” he ordered. “In a few cycles, Imperious shall be feasting with me in the Inferno.”
- Ro-Tor and Blackarachnia looked at each other, and then she fired off a web and held out her hand. “Let’s do as the madmech says!” Together they swung for the exit Rampage had made, clearing it a few nanokliks before it closed up behind them.
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