[Nexus] Council

[Lord Magtok]

"So AMEN is being led by half an Ilpholin now," Magtok repeats, with a long, dragged out sigh. He'd find that darkly amusing, if it weren't so horribly exasperating. Even when this thrice-damned invasion is over, he'll have his work cut out for him. So much politics left to hack through, when he was hoping to finally escape all that nonsense once this war passed.

"Well that's fantastic. So rather than telling me any of this earlier, you guys chose to shoot me repeatedly in the chest without warning. The attack went through my spine, leaving me crippled, gasping for breath, and a bloody smear on a hover-tank's windshield for minutes before I could expire. Minutes spent lying in my own fluids, waiting for the sweet mercy of oblivion, because I was walking around in what Watch arbitrarily decided was the wrong neighborhood. You could've interrogated me about what I was doing, told me to leave first, or done any number of things before escalating to cold-blooded murder, but no, I'm perforated to death for kicks and giggles. Then I complain about this, insist you guys are doing something wrong, and I'm the one who needs to work on my civility."

The hologram Magtok throws its hands into the air.

"No, y'know what? Never mind, forget it. I don't even want to hear your excuses, I'm done with this. From now on I'm never doing anything for a single one of you without due compensation. I've given you all special treatment for far too long, permitted too much treachery from all but one two of you. I'm sorry, Vasquez; I didn't want to be the next one to walk out that door, but I can't help your city if I have to work with these treacherous scumbags to do so. I was going to wait until after the invasion to do this, but it's going so well for my side right now that it doesn't really matter.

MagCorp officially secedes from Inside, from Riverside, from the world. Any alliances or agreements, implied or otherwise, are over. If any one of you dares go near me again, I will destroy you without hesitation. No more 'there's always more clones, you're overreacting' justifications, no more 'he's not worth getting into a war with Watchtower over' mercy, no nothing. I will strike down the next one of you disgusting, self-righteous pigs who think they can strike at me or my people without retribution. You will know death as I have known it a thousand times before, and I will gladly cut down any and all who stand in your defense."

The Magbot carrying the hologram Magtok stands up from its seat at the table.

"Magbot, return home. And on your way back, let Dr. Graves know I've reconsidered my earlier rejection of his Skyside proposal. An opening just popped into my schedule, and I want him to have it."

It doesn't wait at the door for anyone to talk its master out of this, it just up and starts walking away. The cyborg's likely not coming back again.