Terminator -1.
Has anime ever tried mixing robots, Aeon Flux Ghost in the Shell, Batman, Theoretical Computer Science, etc.? Yes.
The survivors of the nuclear fire called the war Judgment Day. They lived only to face a new nightmare: the war against the machines which don’t forget leg day ☹. Now, Dark Paradigm City, CA; this is a graveyard of flickering neon and shadowed decay. Rain slicks the pavement, pooling in cracked asphalt. Ah! If the police really did their jobs, why are there still cracked roads, huh? Speaking of the police, a distant siren wails; it’s swallowed by the hum of a dying metropolis. Sodium streetlights cast a sickly orange glow, barely piercing the darkness. For the youngins of Southern California, the streetlights provided a free-for-all disco setting.
A marble statue, wait…It’s a Mr. Olympian …No. It was just a crouching marble figure surrounded with what appeared to be white smoke progressing like it was going to cover the whole street. But this crouching marble then moves, strides through the alley — comically broad-shouldered, unhurried. The Arnyoung T-800. Its face is young, almost boyish, a cruel mockery of innocence beneath a mop of damp, dark hair. Its descriptive HUD model analyzes one of the gang members in a black wet leather jacket, black jeans, and black boots. It tilts its head, scanning, its eyes glinting with a faint red flicker.
It was downright monstrous than any man should be. The Skynet machine pauses beneath a buzzing streetlamp, head cocked as if listening to the night. Its lips part, voice was set to originate from the birthplace of classical music — but a logic error interpreted the system needed an Austrian accent: low and flat, devoid of warmth.
“Nice night for a walk, anon.”
The words hang in the air, a taunt to no one, or perhaps to the nearby prey — a statistical mean interpolation from the humanoid machine.
The prey high-key laughs at the naked man, oblivious: “Wash day tomorrow? Nothing clean right?”
“Your clothes, give them to me. Now.”
Before the gang members could react, an older voice out of nowhere intervened, “You won’t be needing any clothes, Alan Gabriel.”
The evil T-800 turns to look what is against it.
(dam dam dam DAM DAM) X 3.
Old man Arnold continues. “I have been waiting for you.”
The evil cybernetic assassin analyzes and sees the intruder has only a basic shotgun. Easy prey. It smirks unkindly and sprints towards the old man, Naruto-style.
Shot one, at the heavy chest covered by a metal endoskeleton. Result? Nothing.
Shot two, at the heavy chest — not much of a detailed analysis, yes? So, the result? Again, nothing.
Shot three, at the heavy chest! F1-learning score of zero! Result? What do you expect.
When the evil T-800 finally reached the old man (also a cybernetic system) for close combat, there was no chance the old man would win. This is what President Trump had combated early on his second term, unfair fights.
The old man had trouble moving his fingers because the young robot had damaged his metallic arm. As the evil T-800 was approaching the old man for the final kill, the old man was still struggling to shift the actuator software from ChatGPT to Grok (for real-time maintenance). But, Aeon Connor was not far behind. She takes her powerful rifle, peers through the scope and says towards the evil T-800: “You might wanna duck.”
She shoots the evil T-800 through. It falls to its knees, still at kill mode… then its systems finally switch off. Old man Arnold turns to see who helped him…
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(dam dam dam DAM DAM) X 3.
….and the Governator Pops does a perfect thumbs up using Grok software.
But the shot wasn’t enough, of course. Aeon Flux girl had already fled the scene when the evil T-800 simply downloaded itself back at the impossible O(-1) time. Clock time literally reversed. The evil T-800 resumed its main program and just surprise-suplexes Pops into metal pieces!
A loud honk is then heard from an approaching truck. The evil T-800 stares at it, unfazed to see it transforming with ASMR finesse into Optimus Prime whilst drinking a coke bottle mid-transformation.
“Head Hunter Prime?” The evil T-800 says attentively towards the leader of the Transformers.
“You piece of Ken; did you forget who I am?”
The evil T-800 does the twisting side double biceps, then the expanded side chest muscle pose. And says, “I have been waiting for the most Gigachad moment in all robot history…”
He then does just the basic crab pose.
“So, beautiful moon tonight, don’t you think?” asked the evil T-800 in mockery. “How long will it be, then? How long before you’re no longer cursed to walk the earth as a truck…?
Optimus ignores the question and scans the area which was at that time filled with white smoke. His blue eyes, designed as a tribute to archangel Michael, gleamed brighter. “You understand, Alan? I could not think of a better place to bury you, than right at your goated portal.”
(dam dam dam DAM DAM) X 3.
With a kamikaze approach, Optimus Prime just creates a shotgun from twisting all the components from his left arm — and just clears the T-800’s head from its neck.
Whoever was still in that street remained silent as a statue — wondering what next would happen. But without warning, a figure looming from the darkness appeared. ‘Alas! No simple being is capable of remaining sane whilst seriously prancing around in a costume’ — Optimus thought in admiration. Now, the costumed man had an EMP blaster, and he aimed it at the headless T-800.
“Easy Roger! No machine deserves a fate like that.” Optimus warned.
BLAST! BLAST! BLAST!
The EMP rifle took some few minutes to stop recharging.
“Fate is only for the awake.” The Batman finally replied. His voice rumbled, much like thunder. He then disappeared into the night.
The rain pounds harder this time, washing oil and Coke into the road cracks. Skynet has terrible planning skills, a siren wails — nobody cares.
Sources:
Google Images.
