I hit 69 posts! haha! all the more reason to have posted on Valentines Day...

I would also like to note that there is a reason why the mature tag is on, so read at a proper maturity age, or just laugh like a perverted teen. The laugh be with you.

----------------

Location: The White House barrier.

Time: 2 hours after the young departed. 1400 military time.

Day: The 2nd of July, 120 GA. Still.

Shifting out of his Gaia Form, John digs his feet into the ground to slow himself before touching the blue barrier surrounding the White House entrance. For about a minute, the earth parts before his feet, until he is only a couple feet away from touching the blue impasse.

The street is silent except for the movement of the nanobots on John’s body, and the shifting of the frame inside the machine he calls a body. The houses dotting the surroundings all have their lights off, the street light the only thing on, and just barely at that too.

His armor almost done shifting into his Hiltz Form, John stands there using his sensors to look and examine any weaknesses he could possibly find in the electrical barrier before him.

He knew touching the damn thing would shock his systems until tomorrow, and leave his circuitry stunned but not useless, as he made the circuitry to be able to withstand the energy made by his thermal fusion reactor.

Once the finally nanobot rests and grips onto his mechanical ass, he steps close to the barrier. His sensors go haywire slightly as he approaches, and this tells him that this is not on par with his body’s energy output.

But he remembers the useless thing he made for close combat. Perhaps it will be useful now?

Reaching to his side with his hand, he activates the 6-disc weapon. The nanobots leave his armor and almost instantaneously merges with his hand, and forms the hilt of his invention copied from a certain Mr. Lucas.

The blade extends, and the hum of energy from his arm transferring into the lightsaber is recorded in John’s sensors.

John lifts his arm and begins to tap the barrier with his blade. Sparks flash from between the two energies, the barrier beginning to dim slightly from resisting his powerful tap.

The lit up emoticon on John’s V-shaped faceplate changes to a smile, and he begins anew upon the barrier, pushing the tip of the lightsaber into the parting, dimming energy field. An inch into the barrier, sparks begin to fly like mad, resembling the time when a saw cuts through metal, but only with blue sparks instead of orange.

If John’s facial expression wasn’t shown on the faceplate as an emoticon, an observer would be able to tell that John looked similar to that of a crazy homicidal maniac bent on mutual destruction.

But there was no one around to tell or observe his face for him to notice that, and he plunged the blade deeper into the barrier, penetrating it all the way up to the hilt of the lightsaber.

Although the barrier didn’t give out more power, it still dimmed, like it was giving in to the pressure from the humming lightsaber.

John begins to move the saber down, the force exerted on the barrier and lightsaber by his arm clearly showed on the pavement, as his feet began to dig into the stone ground from the pressure of multiple 21st century tanks was exhibited. The gears and electrical pulses sent to the arm began to rapidly increase in pace, as John sent commands to it through his wiring.

The thermal fusion reactor began to increase the energy output needed to compensate for the energy spent, and steam began to billow out of John’s body. All the force generated by John didn’t go to waste as the lightsaber began to pull down on the barrier, its collapse shown by the tears in the electrical pattern of the barrier.

But that wasn’t all that happened when the barrier fell.

The barrier now torn, John could use his sensors to get a grid of the place, the locations and lives that could and should be inside the White House. The problem though, was that there was no longer a building that could resemble the White House.

There was only the white rocks and columns strewn all over the place, with a pit in the center of it. An almost exact replica of the famous Stonehenge, just white and modern.

Calming his ‘heart of steel’, John stops pouring out steam, and lets go of his blade.

John slips into the torn barrier through the gap he created, the nanobots on his body moving closer together, compacting to allow him more room and less of a chance to become electrocuted. John’s thoughts always leaned on the side of caution back in his human body, and that trait followed him into his programming.

Although he passes through the barrier, the lightsaber stays on, despite his lack touch upon the hilt. This is because the lightsaber has found another source of energy, the barrier itself. But this situation of energy draining doesn’t last long as he reaches to the outside of the barrier and absorbs the lightsaber while pulling it across.

The barrier flickers, and the nonexistent drain on its energy resources now allows it to resume its objective of hiding the catastrophe of the nation.

John begins to walk forwards, towards the garden and ‘would be’ entrance of his destination. But from its appearance, the final destination has changed.

After a mere 10 minutes, John walks through the standing arches of the White House, the doors that were once hinged upon them now lay splintered on the floor, burdened with John’s footprints.

Paying attention to all his sensors, which allows him to focus on everything surrounding him, he walks through through the rubble-strewn hallways, the light sometimes peeking through the ceiling. Sometimes kicking rubble away, he looks for any signs of the hidden Presidential bunker, in hopes of finding his target.

Taking his time, he kicks rubble and punches through walls, discovering jewelry, safes, and the seal of the president. John thought this seal wouldn’t be on a ring like some class ring found in high schools, but supposedly the evolution of technology wasn’t bound to the oval office.

After an hour of searching, John comes to the decision that the bunker is in fact somewhere else, and he walks down the hallway to the arch, the entrance and now the exit. He still holds onto the seal ring, and seeing as how useless it is to him, he tosses it behind him.

Now, imagine that the seal ring was actually a beacon, and a tracer for the underground bunker. In fact, the trace was active the whole time John held the ring, and the ring had to be walked around in a certain way in order for the way to the bunker to open up.

And John had unwittingly opened up the passage to the bunker by walking in the enigma of a path.

The ring flashes, and John turns his body around, to discover the ring floating in midair, hovering with a small, red glow. Despite the ominous light, John approaches the ring, only to have it zip away, faster than the eye of a human to see. But John is not human, but a robot, and so his sensors pick up the moving coordinates of the ring, allowing John to follow in the ring’s path.

The ring makes its appearance as John turns around the corner, a stairwell in the ground that didn’t show up in John’s sensors now made its appearance below the ring.

John walks to the ring, and stretches out his hand, the nanobots on his arm absorbing the ring and implementing the metal all throughout the body. This way, any of the surprises the ring could have in store for John would now be beneficial to him.

When he absorbed the ring, the Varisum ore began to glow, but with an orange-gold hue. The lines on his body brightened, and the dark passage in the ground lit up from his light.

“Finally, the time for my revenge draws closer.”

John proceeds down the now exposed passage, the way down dark and lonely. John’s body became a flashlight though, and the orange-gold hue worked its electricity. Regardless of John’s body, but John would have been able to see in the dark with his sensors, as they were made for all types of excursions.

Walking down the human sized passage, with only the way forward being his option, John made the most of his time by running diagnostics on the stone passage. The stone themselves were brick-laid, and dated back to the 17th century. According to his diagnostic report.

After more trivia on the passage, the passage itself began to widen, opening up to the size of two Scorpion-7’s side by side. Only there were no tanks, and there was only a big, metal door with the american symbol etched onto it. The door was made to sustain any level of blast, and could only be opened up in a different way. But what was the right way?

John uses his sensors on more important things now, disregarding the trivia information on the men who laid down the brick, there fingerprints still sitting on the bricks themselves.

Turning his head around, he began to manually search for what would be a console, or some other data entry point. As luck would have it, his sensors picked up an electrical charge off to the right of the door, signifying what could be a console or an alarm.

John walked over to where his sensors picked up the electronic signature, and if he was still human, he would be irked at what he found as the lock. Or rather, instead of it being a lock, it was something similar to a target symbol, two circles surrounding a hole, and a little message written on the surface of the rock Insert Here.

Once upon a time, John would have laughed at what his dirty mind thought to put in there, but now being a logical artificial intelligence, he just sticks his metal index finger into the target hole.

‘Bzzt chnk’

The sound of something mechanical moving behind the wall is picked up in his sensors, and the pain receptors tell him of the increasing pressure on his finger. Seeing how it couldn’t even punish his finger, he only ignored that small part of machinery moving, and looked towards the door.

The door began to slide apart, much like that of a bunker’s would. However, John picked up something elese entirely more… alive.

“Oh! Finally someone has opened up the damn door. I was getting so lonely… Should I introduce myself as a man-hater, or maybe a woman-hater this time? Or maybe I should just confess the sin I buried in my heart…”

Although the speech he heard coming from the other side of the door startled his sensors to cause them to glitch, he stood still. With his finger still in the hole, the mechanical sounds now squeaking from the pressure it was trying to emit.

He needed answers, and hopefully he could get answers from this… depravity of humanity.

As soon as the door finished parting itself, John began to move forward, into the room that looked like a biologist and a bioengineer had a massive breakdown in. Microscopes laid on every table, four tables in total. Test tubes lay on the ground cracked, a robotic arm lay on its side, moving to an unheard beat. Or maybe John did hear it, but decided to filter it from his sensors.

Images of a woman’s body from an x-ray machine lay plastered against the walls, sometimes robots were seen as gravure models, as there were many lipstick marks on their crotch shots and other personal areas of a human body.

A woman was laid upon the ground, or at least half a woman, as the robotic arm from before was moving backwards and forwards doing a certain motion. A test tube was in its hands, and the lower body of a woman laid on the ground, the test tube inserted into her vagina.

The upper body of the woman lay on a countertop, attached to the lower body with cords and pseudo-intestines. She was panting slightly, moaning occasionally, and had a look of a mad scientist, as she also had a lab coat on, and that was it.

She was looking at an old flat screen tv, which was showing a picture of John looking at her looking at the screen. She already noticed him, but only began to make the robot arm move faster, increasing her moaning.

John calmly looks at the situation before him, and then decides to do the most proper thing he could think of. He walks around a table, past the upper body of the woman, and behind the tv, unplugging the cord from a socket that has rust growing on it.

“Hey! I was watching that!”

John turns around to look at the woman who yelled at him, who had anger written over her face for a second, before she had the face of an ecstatic woman about to climax, her grunting even getting through John’s filters in his sensors.

Seeing as for ten minutes she continued to get penetrated by science, John decides to kick away the robot arm, only to have his foot rebound from how well screwed into the ground the robotic arm was.

“So, what are you doooing here hottie? You don’t loooook like you belong to the new generatiiioooon.”

“I’m here to find the President. You may hold the answer.”

The robotic arm stops moving, and the moaning turns to a pant. The woman has one eye closed, and looks John over. She then tilts her head back and laughs, the test tube flying out of her vagina, causing a crater in the wall with shatter glass. Other shards of glass now fall onto the old, creating an even bigger pile of broken test tubes. John's mind shudders at what muscles are needed to do that.

“Sorry, sonny, can’t help you there. The President changed to that one place in the Grand Canyon, so the White House is my personal chambers-... I really meant decoy.”

“Grand Canyon? Alright, I’ll check that out. Thank you Ms. Cummington, it was a pleasure.”

Getting the information quickly, John began to turn around and leave. But his sensors picked up the agitated state the woman was in. He stopped.

“Oi, how the hell do you know my name?”

“Because my sensors already picked up your biosignature.”

“Biosignature? What the hell do you mean by that, you lube processor.”

John heaves a rhetorical sigh, and turns around to face the now angry and foul-mouthed woman.

“You are just over 5 feet, you weigh 95 pounds originally, but with your integrated mechanical parts and immortality engine, you weigh just over 300 pounds. Your breast size is G cup, and people often refer to your kind as a big-breasted loli. You are 125 years old on November 23rd. Your favorite food is rooster, and you enjoy the cold touch of steel.”

Giving her the information he thought she desired, he begins to turn around. That is until something hard hits his head, bouncing off and getting stuck in the ceiling. He turns around to find the Ms. Cummington with a scowl on her face, her mouth wide open, and steam figuratively coming from her head.

“I AM ONLY 124!!! And I NEVER programmed that into you, you damned AIIS, how the hell do you know this?”

“...Wouldn’t it be because I was never an AIIS, nor yours to program?”

After John said those words, he soon began to regret it as the woman’s face began to contort rapidly, from angry, curious, angry, sad, furious, and… ecstatic.

She pushes off the table, and her body begins to reconnect, her breasts shrinking slightly, and her body reconnecting, the metal cables keeping her firmly in place. She somehow puts on some suspenders underneath the labcoat she never took off, and runs up to John like a fan would to her star.

“You are made by THE John Hiltz!!!!??? Oh My God! OMG OMG OMG!!!”

She asks and answers the question herself, and begins to jump around him similar to that of a cat on a catnip high. Her hair curls and bounces, the brown hair smacking John’s chest with a solid thud. John had no idea what he put in her hair, but his answer came from his sensors, mercury.

John tries to step away from the crazed woman, but she hugs him tightly, breathing in through her nose heavily, and drooling slightly.

“You’re mine now.”

“No, I’m not. I’m myself.”

His refute begins to move the gears in her head, the woman gazing into his face.

“Well, shit. You ARE John Hiltz.”

This causes the woman to squeeze even tighter, making some of the nanobots near his crotch shiver in fear. John tries to pry her off him, but like superglue, it seems impossible. So he turns around while the woman begins to scootch up his body, similar to a cockroach.

The woman lifts up her arms when she straddles his neck with her legs, screaming to the rock ceiling.

“I am Catherine Cummington, and I am getting married!”

“Like hell you are.”

John continues forward, and begins to walk up the stairs. A rogue thought enters his processing systems;

‘What the hell did I find in that hole?’Leaving a Luck Number BehindA Load of Shilver----------------------------------------------------------

As my friends have become fond of saying... *Raise Hand* "For the Cult!"

...And that's how we found each other in Wal-Mart.