"Jumping in 3... 2... 1... mark!"

The dropship shuddered as it left FTL, prompting many of the humans aboard to almost fall to their feet. The lone synthetic figure standing near the hatch made no such movement but continued its silent vigil. Said figure was a new kind of Reploid, said to have been created as an homage to the original X and to Zero. The figure's segmented armor-skin was silver on the plating with an underlying cyan skin. Its helmet completely covered what face it may or may not have had, only two glowing slits indicating any sort of view-finding apparatus. The only weapons visible on the Reploid's person was a large hand-and-a-half sword that, unknown to those unfamiliar with this Reploid, contained many functions aside from cutting.

"Approaching the target area, mission is green to go, repeat, we are live, people!" the gruff voice of the human commander called, prompting all the humans to movement. But the Reploid made no movement, merely continuing its gazing at its sweeping sword. There was some sort of disc just hovering on the dulled side of the blade, it's purpose unknown. This discus the Reploid grabbed and fingered a number of unseen switches and buttons on its surface, replacing it when it finished. As soon as the disc was back in its divot, the whole sword glowed with a cyan similar to the Reploid's under-armor.

"Our role in this battle may seem inconsequential to you maggots, but it is just as vital as our MVP's," the sergeant yelled, motioning to the Reploid. "Any questions, comments, or concerns?"

A single soldier in the back raised his hand, prompting several of the others to mutter "FNG" under their breath."

"No questions then? Then prepare to drop!" the sergeant yelled concurrently with the opening of the troop-bay hatch. This caused several of the troops closer to the front to cover their eyes, but the Reploid made no such motion, still remaining stoic as a statue.

"Troopers, HOW DO WE ARRIVE!!!" the sergeant yelled.
"FEET FIRST INTO HELL, SIR!!!" came the coordinated response.
"HOW DO WE LEAVE!!!"
"DEAD OR VICTORIOUS, BUT NEVER RETREAT, OORAH!!!"

With that, the Reploid, code-named "Electroman," leapt from the ship, disappearing from the sight of all in it. From the back, the soldier previously referred to as the "FNG" whispered to his neighbor, "did he have a parachute?"

The other soldier smiled and said, "no, no he didn't."

Falling through the air, Electroman immediately switched off his audio receivers, the whipping of the wind proving too much a distraction. The only sound were the subtle beeps and clicks of his scanning gear denoting various potential landing sites. When the most optimal was found, near the target and covered from enemy fire, flaps rose around his body, minutely adjusting his flight path towards the targeted area.

A concussive wave blasted out from Electroman's landing, flinging debris and enemy mech alike to the side with his entrance. His sword flashed as he swung, slicing the enemy mech that was unfortunate to be within his reach, cleaving it in two with one strike. Its fellows were quick to respond, opening fire with their quick-fire busters in a maelstrom that would've ended any lesser soldier.

But Electroman, with the same motion, grabbed the disc from its spot and threw it upwards, generating a pulse that covered him and incinerated every bullet fired at him. But before the mechs could even comprehend their failure, Electroman shot from the deactivating shield and stabbed one of their number through the chest. He twirled and flung the mech into another, turning both into scrap and was already leaping over another, somersaulting with his sword, cleaving another mech in half. Five enemies remained, not missing a beat and readjusting their aims. But once more, Electroman proved superior as, with a twirl of his sword, he generated a circular shield that grabbed every bolt fired in his direction and held it suspended in the field's grasp. By the time the five mechs went to reload, Electroman had a veritable hoard of fired energy in his shield's waves. With a flick, he stopped the twirling of his sword and every munitions exploded back to those that sent them, every bullet hitting a vital point and disassembling every hostile.

The immediate vicinity clear, Electroman brought up his mission objectives as he moved towards the bunker's entrance.

*Objective: Find and eliminate enemy bio-weapon, designation: Hyper.
Mission urgency: Level Red. Complete at all costs.*

Underneath his helmet, Electroman's expression turned stern. Level Reds weren't seen very much these days, the Purist movement having all but been destroyed at this point in the Unification War. So how did they manage to get a working Red this late in the war with likely-limited resources?

Returning to the mission, he pulled a switch on his hilt. The sword's cutting edge glowed a near-white blue, seeming to burn the very air. He stabbed it deep into the bunker's door, the metal hissing as his blade cut through it like butter. In no time at all, he had a man-sized hole sliced into the door and kicked it in. He took a moment to gaze skyward to track the squadron's progress. He allowed a mildly-cocky grin to pull at his face, impressed by his own speed.

5.23 seconds into the mission and he already had an entrance secured, a new personal best.

Without another word, he dashed through the hole he made and into the bunker proper, the red service lights doing little to break the mood that this was the "bad guy's" base.

Electroman whipped around a corner into another swarm of mechs, this one larger than the previous crop he so effectively cut down, but armed with heavy weapons.

Electroman turned his dash into a boots-first slide as the first volley of rockets flew over him, mere inches from his helmeted face. They may as well have been miles away. His feet met the opposite wall and he kicked off, sliding in reverse. His sword shifted in nano-seconds to a two-pronged weapon with a long barrel in the middle. From the barrel erupted a sapphire beam that sliced through the legs of the front line. The heavy-munitions packs on the spines of the mechs caused all to topple into their brethren behind, causing a domino effect for the first half of the ranks. The back lines had stepped back and were preparing their next volley. Electroman caught the edge of the hall that he had emerged from a mere second ago and flipped out of the path of the incoming rockets and into the safety of the hallway. Pausing to adjust his sword back to its initial form, he stowed the blade on his back and leapt to the pipes above. He pulled himself up and onto the pipes, noting the markings saying "defense battery coolant."

The mechs weren't easily fooled, switching to their small-arms and unleashing a torrent of bolts in Electroman's direction. He weaved and bobbed, ducking from cover to cover, but keeping up his momentum. As he reached the position above the mechs, he leapt upwards and pointed his sword's point towards the pipe as he returned to towards the ground. His blade's point found its mark in the outermost pipe, coolant almost erupting from the pressurized pipe. Keeping his sword deep in the metalwork, Electroman jumped off the pipe edge and his blade dragged his momentum around as it cut a clean circle across the pipe.

He landed atop one of the mechs, crumpling it to a scrap heap only for him to leap above the heads of the other mechs and take off down the hallway. The mechs, forgetting the pipe for a moment, attempted to switch to their heavy weapons, but found their joints literally frozen stiff. A moment later, as Electroman rounded the next corner, the mechs were little more than frozen statues that fell to piles of snow moments later.

Electroman continued his carnage through the base, destroying the mech hostiles with ease, whether with his sword in its blade mode. Only occasionally did he require its lethal beam weapon when a foe proved more stubborn to his unamped sword swings. But all fell with surprising ease.

The gut feeling Electroman felt beginning to stir was worsening. This was far too easy for a Level Red.

He knew suddenly that the climax was close. Every fiber of his synthetic being raised in warning as he cut down one final mech in a lengthy hall, having been the last obstacle before a door larger than the others. He palmed the hatch on it and it hissed open in somber welcome. No hostile contacts showed on his sensors, but a vast armory spread before him, the weaponry partially emptied to the forces he had just sliced through.

Walking slowly through it, he approached the opposite door, the feeling of dread growing. He passed through the next door and into a wide, arena-like room beyond.

The door clicked closed behind him, the hologram going red to signify it now locked. Electroman cast his gaze across the room to a lone, black-armored figure who held a massive turret-like gun with one hand and a wrist-mounted crimson blade thrumming with life from the other. The figure was turned away from Electroman, gazing at screens behind him.

"So the Republic has revealed their ace in the hole," the figure said, "I was wondering when they would decide I was worth their time."

The figure turned around and Electroman quickly realized this was the Level Red: Hyper. Slowly, he grasped his blade in both hands and held it before him.

"Come warrior, shall we dance?" Hyper said, lifting his turret gun and priming his blade with the other.

"Gladly," Electroman said.

As one, the two Reploids leapt at each other, roaring their battle-cries and baring their blades.