((STORY EXTRACT))

Further down the road, a few of the trees that ran along either side were far more mangled and torn up, though by some miracle not because of a massive jet bomber. With a grimace as I steadied the stock in my bruised shoulder, I let myself rest back behind a nearby tree, just long enough to allow me to reach in and pull a 40mm round out of my jacket. Dragon’s Breath… hardly ideal, but hopefully the crash broke open that robo-bastard’s fuel tanks or something. Least I won’t hurt myself as bad firing this… fucking shaped charge warhead… fucking me for not having a slug handy.

Taking in a breath, the barrel clicked back into place with the round loaded, dragging myself back onto my hooves and starting to slowly approach the robo-dragon carcass. The distinct, acrid smell of burnt metal and warm hydraulic fluid filled the air as I drew close, Thumper’s stock pressed as tight as I could bear between my foreleg and my chest, hooves moving slow as I examined the robot closely. Yeah, that sure loks like a usual robo-dragon alright… but, something about it seems… off. And I’m not just talking about the hole through it’s head.

Stopping before the puddle of thick reddish fluid that oozed from the joints, the metal of the dragon’s hide seemed like it was already scratched to hell, mauled by something, even. I’m no plantologist or whatever, but I’m pretty sure a tree wouldn’t leave three parallel scratch marks in solid hardened armor, no matter how fast the dragon crashed. Thing is… I can’t really think of what else would’ve. Nor do I think I want to ever find out what would’ve gouged out steel like that. Fuck, Luna forbid they’re something under Cerberus’ control…