Companion

Side by side they walked along the broken pavement towards the city. Buildings were burning; some skyscrapers were bent on an odd angle as if it was about to fall. Vehicles were flipped on the side of each road, some were burning, some were battered. The two figures walked as one; the other was as small as an average Human, the other, an overtowering armored robot. Each step the hulking figure made, the ground shook. Rodents ran away towards the sewers and canals as they walked past by, but the Benjaminite remained calm. Armored in Strider Battle Gear, the Mech Rider Protectorate of the Death Spartan Regiment flipped his butterfly knife between his fingers as his gaze darted left and right. He was seeking for anything that might come out of the shadow and kill them.
   "Companion," the Protectorate called. "Any word from Command?"
   "Negative," The hulking robot replied as they continued walking. "Four hours since we have dropped, we still hasn't received any transmissions yet."
The Benjaminite ignored what his leviathan companion says. He shot a glance at it before focusing on the road ahead of them. Black and yellow hazard strip paint decorated its left and right arms. A long-barrelled cannon protrudes out of its left shoulder. Its legs were huge chunk pieces of metal that leaves every ground cratered in every road they set foot on. Its head rotates every second as it mimicks its Rider's movement, searching and always scanning. A red glowing light can be seen behind those darkened vertical eyeslits. Its nose and mouse part were covered with an angular visor. It stood with its back hunched. Its chest contains the small compartment of the Rider's cockpit in case the Protectorate wanted to operate the Companion manually. Sharp armblades were attached on each forearms of the leviathan machine.
   "We better move quickly." The white-clad Protectorate says as he pulled the Blast Rifle from his back. "I sensed evil coming from every direction."

All of a sudden, warning sirens blared from the Companion's speaker as a shadow materializes itself above them. A gigantic avian creature with a black fur. Red eyes stared down at the duo with malicious intent. Wings flapped violently and its claws were ready to tear, metal and flesh alike.

"Contact, Rider." The Companion says as it broke out of the link that forces it to mimick his Rider's movement. "Your orders?"

The Benjaminite Protectorate drew both his folding knives and stood on a fighting stance.

"Protectorate Bushfire reporting in," he keyed to Command in his earpiece. "Initiating Attack Protocol 88."