Each step Halo took propelled it across multiple kilometers of desert. Even so, the machines pursuing it stayed close behind.

Halo had no idea what they wanted. The first group had been easy enough to shake, but these ones had to be Version 3.0 at least, only one level below Halo. It was confident it could handle any one of them in a straight fight, but four at once would be too risky. Then again, if running away wasn’t going to work, a fighting retreat might be the better choice.

Channeling power through its reactor gate, Halo came to a stop, planting an open palm against the sand. A column of pure Code, shining brilliant white, rose towards the heavens, splitting again and again into a fractal of spikes spreading in random directions. When it stopped growing, it looked like a glowing tree, tall enough to brush against the wisps of cloud overhead. As the pursuing machines caught up with Halo, the tree began to rain down bolts of destructive force, each one capable of pulverizing a lesser iterator.

This level of technique wouldn’t be enough to stop these opponents, but it would force them to navigate a hostile battlefield while they fought. It drew a pair of swords, infused them with a green aura of Code, and launched a cluster of invisible blades through the air with an opening swing. 

The iterators reacted quickly and precisely enough to the opening salvo to confirm that they had done research on Halo’s combat capabilities in advance. They pushed forward through the rain of destruction and attacked in concert, each one using a different weapon and suite of techniques. One threw a spear, which multiplied into dozens of spears, each one carrying a subroutine that would pin anyone near where it landed to the ground. Halo jumped away, but found the arc shifting towards a second attacker who summoned something like a black hole, drawing it into a devastating hammer strike. It blocked the swing with swords crossed, but the knockback sent it into a swarm of Code-infused micro-missiles from the third machine. The missiles blinked past Halo’s hastily-constructed barrier, and it had to reinforce its body with Code to endure the repeated impacts.

Briefly pinned down by the missile barrage, Halo felt a hand materialize in its chest, closing around its reactor. It only had milliseconds to identify the nature of the technique being used and counter it, or its heart would be crushed. However, the technique fizzled before it was complete. Halo spared a glance to see what interrupted the technique; it saw the attacker, its arm ripped off, joined by a fifth machine.

The newcomer was a tall, four-armed model, painted in white save for a set of red cooling fins. “Don’t damage its reactor, idiot,” it said, tossing the arm aside casually. “We need that intact.”

“Who are you?” Halo asked, trying to stall for time in case anyone else had noticed the ongoing battle and was coming to help. The white machine extended one hand, launching a bolt of lightning that persisted after striking, wrapping around its body and dragging the iterator towards itself. Even as a 4.0, Halo was unable to pull itself out of the technique’s grasp. How powerful was this machine? Was it a 5.0? There were supposed to be fewer than eight of those in the entire galaxy.

“Don’t worry, Halo. I’m not here to kill you. You’re far too important for that.”

“Then what are you doing here? What do you want with me?”

In one fluid motion, the white machine reached through Halo’s faceplate and pulled out its intelligence core. Its body went limp, like a puppet with its strings cut.

“You’re going to help us save the galaxy.”