Franken continued its deadly dance with the enemy War Suit, delivering more strikes at a faster rate than ever before. At long last, the gradual chipping damage had been replaced by larger numbers, showing just how much more effective it was to plunge a blade in deep than it was to deliver smaller, less risky strikes.

Eventually, the rhino-themed War Suit began to slow down at a slowly increasing rate as the power distribution systems gradually lost their connections with more and more of the tiny, monotone champion’s machine. To make matters worse for that particular foe, this also translated into the one good arm left on his War Suit slowly losing its ability to even grip the massive shaft of its weapon.

After what to both parties must have seemed like an eternity, the larger War Suit finally lost its grip on its battleax and let the giant melee weapon drop to the floor with a loud clank. Axton took this as the perfect opportunity to deal a killing blow, and, rather foolishly, charged headlong into the face of his foe.

As soon as Franken was just about to make full contact, though, the larger enemy machine used its one working arm and hand to reach out and grab Franken by the side of its waist, pulling it and its pilot closer before attempting to crush both of them in a deadly one-armed bear hug. Axton diverted power from other subsystems and hoped that it would be enough as the sounds of metal scraping against metal became audible to him even within his War Suit.

With one arm locked in place due to the grip of the enemy, Axton had Franken repeatedly drive the knife in its one free arm into the gaps between the other War Suit’s metal plating. The desperate nature of the strikes meant that most merely deflected off of the extra armor, but a few found their mark and let the knife sink deep.

Axton continued to use that one free hand of his War Suit to stab and stab away, but in his panic, he didn’t realize that there was something… off about the one-armed bear hug that was supposed to be crushing him and his war machine at the same time. Heedless to this, Franken kept stabbing until Axton’s initial surprise and fear had worn off.

The stabs slowed, then ceased, and Franken began to push against the arm and hand that was holding it so close to its foe. Surprisingly, the arm and hand, while initially rather hard to move, began to slowly bend away, despite the seeming protestations of its pilot.

Eventually, though, the strain that Franken’s attempts to push itself free had caused was too much for the already damaged arm to endure, and the sweet, sweet sound of synthetic muscles ripping and metal endoskeletons shattering changed Axton’s look of concern to a look of joyous and welcome surprise. The arm that had held Franken close went limp and slumped down and back to the side of the larger War Suit’s body, waving a bit before coming to a dead stop like some kind of arm-shaped pendulum.

“This is not the end.” Spoke the tiny, monotone man in the now armless and weaponless mech. “I can still fight.”

“Yes, it is.” Axton shot back with a voice that mixed annoyance and disappointment. “And no, you can’t.”

“You underestimate my power.” Retorted the current enemy, to which Axton snarkily replied with, “Not much to underestimate now, is there?”

This reply, which reeked of condescension was enough to get the opponent it was directed towards to try and deliver a stomping kick towards Franken and its pilot, but the foot went wide as Franken rather easily stepped out of the way. The pilot of the enemy War Suit apparently had not fully thought through the attack that he had attempted to make, and the shift in weight and posture was enough to cause the War Suit to topple over.

“Urgh.” Came a grunt from the toppled machine as its speakers were accidentally turned on via the impact of a man’s body against a button or switch. “This is not even a flesh wound.”

“You can’t use your machine’s arms, and you can’t even get up from the ground!” Axton yelled back at the floundering enemy. “Have some fucking dignity and just give up already! You’re embarrassing yourself!”

“That is untrue.” Retorted the still utterly monotone man whose piloted killer robot was desperately flailing its only two remaining useful limbs in a vain attempt to stand up. “At best, this is merely a draw.”

“A… a draw?” Axton stuttered. He shook his head and had Franken walk over to the kicking War Suit that was still tossing and turning on the ground due to its futile attempts to stand up. “How about now?

Without a single pause, Franken shoved both of its knives into a joint between the main portion of the fallen War Suit’s torso and its waist. Immediately, the power that formerly flowed into the War Suit’s legs cut off, and Franken only did more damage from there.

A bit more stabbing a bit of wiggling of the two knives later, and the enemy was now stuck in a metal death trap staring face up towards the sky.

“Is it still at most a draw now?” Axton said as he looked down his nose at the enemy laying before him.

“….. This changes nothing. You still lack the power to fully defeat me, not that you ever could, to begin with. Such dishonorable and cheat-ridden tactics are unable to prevail. I and my master will claim victory, and you will…”

As soon as it had become apparent that no headway could be made in his attempt to force his foe to simply surrender, Axton had driven Franken over to the massive battleax that still lay on the ground.

“What are you attempting to do, coward?” asked the man who refused to admit that he had already lost.

“You’re right.” Axton muttered.

“I… I know that I am correct.”

Axton smiled as Franken began to drag the battleax over to a new position.

“Cease your foolishness. Our victory is impossible to stop. Give in, and we will consider sparing your life.”

Axton ignored the man and had Franken begin using its full weight to force the massive weapon to move faster. Franken began to spin, slowly at first, but as the ax began to move through the air, so did the speed of it and Franken’s rotation pick up as well.

“You must stop.” Came the monotone voice, which Axton could somewhat tell was actually getting concerned. “This is foolishness in the extreme.”

“Maybe.” Axton replied as he strained against the g forces. “Maybe it is. But we won’t know for sure until it happens, now will we?”

As Franken’s arms became taut and the ax nearly flew out of the War Suit’s grip, Axton pushed his machine into one last rotation before using the momentum to bring the weapon over his War Suit’s head and down with a heavy smash into the chest of the enemy before him.

The battleax sunk deep, treating the armor that had deterred Franken’s knives as though it were papier-mache before a truly forceful strike. The metal crunched and shattered and broke apart as the ax head slammed down and pushed its way through it, finally coming to rest with the shaft of the weapon stuck out at nearly a 50-degree angle.

“Still a draw?” Axton asked sarcastically both over comms and aloud via Franken’s speakers.

Silence was the reply.

“I fucking thought so.” Axton muttered with annoyance as he turned Franken to help his friend engage the remaining champion.