It took D-Mo a long moment of careful observation before she let her guard down. This S.C.U. wasn't the same one that had torn her apart just the day before. It was bulkier, more primitive in design—clearly from the same production line, but an earlier or less refined model.
The Unit limped forward in silence. Even with Arthur's calm assurance that they were familiar, its sheer presence remained imposing. J-HI eventually settled on the floor, propping himself against a tank of source fluid with a heavy mechanical exhale.
Arthur instinctively moved to him, falling into practiced motions—just like Orion did whenever patching up D-Mo. He began pumping source fluid, downloading system logs, and detaching ruined components without hesitation.
"The Plant giving you trouble, Jury?" Arthur asked.
"Less than stellar," Jury replied flatly. "Sending your cut, Doc."
A brief confirmation flickered across Jury's visor as he wired a hefty sum directly to Arthur.
The amount made both D-Mo and Orion pause—it was staggering, especially compared to the scraps they'd been surviving on for months.
"What's the Plant?" Orion asked, brows furrowed.
Arthur let out a disapproving huff. "The Plant's the fastest way to get an S.C.U. scrapped—aside from picking a fight with ArchTek. It's an underground arena. People place bets on Unit fights."
Orion's eyes widened in disbelief. "S.C.U. fights?!" he echoed, glancing at D-Mo. "You'd think we'd have heard something by now. I've got a hand in every black market scene there is."
Arthur stepped away from Jury, casually wiping source fluid off his hands and onto his coat. "Not this scene," he said grimly. "Trust me—you don't want in. Some of the Units in that arena weren't even built by ArchTek. Likely knock-offs smuggled in from across the border—made for war, not stability. It was only a matter of time before someone else started manufacturing monsters."
Arthur sighed, recognizing the stubborn curiosity gleaming in Orion's eyes. D-Mo hadn't made any move to stop him either—just quietly observing. "Alright, I'll be blunt," he said. "J-HI here is a military-grade Hound-class S.C.U. Designed to walk through minefields, bend steel like wire, and tank ballistic rounds like they're pebbles. Now look at him."
He motioned dramatically to Jury's battered frame.
"You should see the other guy," Jury quipped dryly. "But Doc's not wrong. It's a bloodbath out there, as far as ourblood goes." He knocked on the tank behind him to emphasize. "And it's not just cheap knockoffs anymore. Local folk are building their own Units. ArchTek schematics don't stay secret long—black market can't get enough of them."
Both Orion and D-Mo instinctively averted their gaze, a wave of guilt settling over them. Jury, however, remained indifferent—no sign of suspicion in his voice or body language. Still, Orion knew Hounds had the sharpest optics among all S.C.U. classes. If Jury noticed anything, he simply chose not to act on it.
"Either way, I'm there to keep the numbers down," Jury went on. "But at the rate they're churning them out, it's a losing battle. I can't exactly go hunting for knock-off Units either—kinda hard to blend in," he added, gesturing over his head with a flat palm, indicating his towering frame.
Orion rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "How'd you even make it here, Jury?"
But Jury didn't respond. He stood completely still—his hulking frame and rigid posture giving him the appearance of a statue.
Arthur answered instead. "He was running on fumes. I had to shut him down for his own good—he won't be moving until I patch him up. Hounds that size are a nightmare to repair."
Settling back down in front of D-Mo and Orion, Arthur wasted no time shifting the conversation.
"Stick around, and come back in a few days," Arthur said. "By then, I'll at least know if repairing D-M0's original parts is possible. If it is, I'll tell you what I'll need."
"That's all we can ask," Orion replied with a nod. "But why help us?"
Arthur gave a knowing smile. "With rogue Units, help tends to come back around. And with one as unique as D-M0, I suspect my assistance might lead to something extraordinary."
After exchanging a few final technical questions, D-Mo and Orion made their way to the door. Just before they stepped out, Arthur called after them with a final warning:
"Don't go looking for the Plant."
Orion let out a laugh, almost as if the thought hadn't seriously crossed his mind until now. "Come on, we're not that dumb. I'd like to keep both my knees and D-Mo's intact. Mine aren't even replaceable." D-Mo gave an eager nod in agreement, which seemed to put Arthur at ease.
But the moment the door shut behind them, Orion exhaled deeply, wearing a crooked grin. "We're totally going after the Plant, aren't we?"
SPELL CONTAINMENT UNIT
D-M0
—let out a single, decisive beep.