Vance didn't have a choice; he saw the Alpha tightening its grip on Beatrice's wrists and reacted on pure instinct. He leveled his tactical pistol and fired a burst of high-voltage rounds.
"WAIT! YOU'RE GOING TO HURT BEATRICE TOO WITH THOSE HIGH-VOLTAGE BULLETS!" Vlad's roar echoed through the lab, but the rounds had already left the chamber.
The blue-white arcs of electricity slammed into the Alpha-1's back. The clone didn't even flinch—his sub-dermal mesh absorbed the current effortlessly—but the voltage surged through his metallic grip and directly into Beatrice. She let out a piercing scream of agony, her body racking with involuntary spasms as the current cooked her nerves.
"Dammit!" Vance cursed under his breath, seeing the mistake. He sprinted forward, throwing his entire weight into a shoulder-tackle. The impact was enough to break the Alpha's hold, and Beatrice crumpled to the floor, her body trembling violently from the shock.
Vance didn't stop. He straddled the clone, throwing a flurry of reinforced tactical punches into the Alpha's face. It was like hitting a wall of solid tungsten. The Alpha-1 waited for a gap, then a heavy boot slammed into Vance's chest, launching him thirty feet across the room and through a workstation.
"I've got him!" Vlad screamed. He lunged, his vibro-blade humming at a lethal frequency. With a surgical horizontal sweep, the blue edge tore through the Alpha's shoulder, slicing the entire arm off. The limb hit the floor with a heavy thud.
But there was no blood.
Instead, a thick, silver viscous liquid—nanite-rich gel—bubbled at the stump. In a horrifying display of rapid molecular assembly, the fibers rewove themselves. Within three seconds, a new arm, complete with skin and a HUD interface, had completely regrown.
"What the fuck?" Vlad whispered, his face twisting in horror.
The Alpha-1 didn't give him time to process. He lunged, his hand wrapping around Vlad's face like a vice. He slammed Vlad's head into a massive, empty water tank nearby. The reinforced glass spider-webbed behind Vlad's skull, the Alpha applying enough pressure to crush a helmet.
CRACK.
Beatrice, still shaking but fueled by pure adrenaline, scrambled up and grabbed a heavy metal pipe from the debris. She swung with everything she had, the pipe clanging against the Alpha's skull. The clone didn't even move. He slowly turned his head to glance at her with those cold, violet eyes, then refocused on Vlad.
He wrapped both hands around Vlad's upper body, lifted him like a ragdoll, and delivered a sickening headbutt that sounded like a mallet hitting a steak. He tossed Vlad aside like trash, sending him crashing into a nearby desk.
Vlad lay in the wreckage, his vision swimming in a sea of red and grey. Blood flowed freely from a deep gash on his forehead, blurring his sight as he watched the "Advanced" version of himself turn its attention back to Beatrice.
Tactical Status: Critical
Vlad: Concussed, blurred vision, primary weapon (Vibro-blade) currently five feet away.
Vance: Reeling from a chest impact, drones offline.
Beatrice: Recovering from electrical shock, armed with a pipe.
The Enemy: Alpha-1 is 100% operational with rapid regeneration.