The Fulminare Trials

By evolution-500

Disclaimer: "Killer Instinct" is a property belonging to Rareware and Microsoft. I own neither the characters nor their respective title.

WARNING: This story contains violence and course language. Reader discretion is advised.

"Every act of creation is first an act of destruction."

- Pablo Picasso

Darkness shrouded over the bloody caged arena, the air still as it lay in wait, its once pristine and smooth marble floors caked with layers upon layers of encrusted blood, a mixture of old and fresh. Two spiked pillars stood erect in the center, while chains lay limply on the filthy floor, the remnants of its previous wearer staining the metallic cuffs.

Nearby, a lone terminal activated, the black screen flashing with green text.

'...INITIATING SYSTEM STARTUP...

...

...BIOS ROM version

COPYRIGHT (C) 2021, 2022, 2023, 2024, 2025

ULTRATECH GmbH

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

...MEMORY TEST : CPU AT 66MHZ...

LOADING...

...

...LOGGING INTO ULTRATECH SITE A MAIN NETWORK...'

The monitor flashed, unveiling a large symbol in the shape of a capital "U".

As overhead lights slowly flickered on, the room hummed with life as wall fans started to turn, getting ready to be used once more, a spotlight forming over the caged arena.

'AREA 000001

ULTRATECH SITE "A"

RAVENSBURG CASTLE FACILITY COMPUTER NETWORK'

* * * * *

Two stories above the caged arena, behind a single panel of glass,  a collection of men and women in lab coats were seated close to the windows with clipboards, while one man, an executive in a grey suit, stood with his arms folded behind back. Together, the group stared silently down from the observatory in anticipation, getting ready for the upcoming test.

The grey-suited figure adjusted his tie, then slicked his hair back with gel and a comb.

* * * * *

In a distant section of the facility, in a large open space with grey concrete walls and floors on all sides with various steel pipes, an overhanging catwalk, and a crow's nest that sat high above, a number of engineers and researchers in HAZMAT suits down below went about their work.

Many scientists gathered around a single figure that lied still on a gurney, the air filled with the whirring hums of drills and various other machinery.

Some of the researchers checked nearby monitors, carefully examining the data before jotting the information down onto their clipboards, while engineers made some slight adjustments to the figure lying on the gurney.

* * * * *

Automated doors whirred open as an individual with long curly red hair was escorted inside, his lanky though lean and muscled form wearing nothing but a pair of green shorts, his arms arms and wrists wrapped in bandages.

Sniffing the air, his lips curled in disgust, "Christ, what a stench!"

"The area has been disinfected by the cleaning staff as best they could," a woman's voice said through a wall-mounted speaker, the sound distorted. "Please make your way to the cage, Mr. Collins."

Looking ahead, Collins stared quietly at the cage ahead, taking everything in.

Finally, a smirk slowly rose up a corner of his mouth. "So, this is where the magic happens, eh? This is where I get to win my million dollars?"

"If you win the tournament, Mr. Collins. However, it is conditional on your being able to succeed."

"And in the alternative, if I win, I can make any request I want?"

"Provided that it's reasonable, if not legal."

Collins shrugged, "Fair enough, I guess." He then punched his palm, extending both fists up into the air as he cried, "Let's get this party started! Time for Papa to earn his bacon!"

* * * * *

Watching from high above, the researchers coolly observed Collins as he practiced his punches and kicks, the participant jabbing swiftly.

"He looks like a good fighter," the grey-suited man commented off-handedly.

"He is," the automated female voice of the company's artificial intelligence spoke through the room's speaker, making him wince. "Mr. Collins is an expert Muay Thai fighter and a multinational winner of a number of martial arts competitions, with a military background."

"That right? Huh. Sounds like this is gonna be an interesting fight."

"He is a promising candidate," A.R.I.A. agreed.

Since 2020, weapons testing had undergone a radical shift in procedure following the subsequent change in management along with the infamous Sabrewulf Castle Incident. The latest test involved a variant of the most prized cyborg units under Ultratech's arsenal - the Fulgore.

While standard Fulgore models were comprised of human parts, this new variant, however, was a machine unlike any other, and if successful, it could potentially revolutionize the weapons market.

Many of the staff were familiar with the person that it had once been, but that did not deter them from seeing the practical applications afforded by the host's unique condition and bone structure.

Neither sentimentality nor compassion were valued within the competitive corporate setting, especially for the men and women that had to work in the dirty underbelly of the corporation. While one or two individuals may have felt a passing sorrow for the man that the machine had once been, it was quickly replaced with an unflinching air of cool, detached professionalism that only saw opportunities and innovation.

From the observation room, the grey-suited man watched as two hover drones emerged from a slight slot near the testing chamber's top corner, hovering around the cage.

On a nearby wall, a television set flicked on, drawing his attention as it started to show footage of the caged arena and its sole occupant while he practiced, the drones running a sweeping diagnostic scan of his being.

Taking note of the time along with the electrocardiogram monitor of the designated participant, the staff continued to make notes and adjustments to the drones' cameras and microphones.

"Interesting," A researcher hummed as he read a file and carefully studied the readings on the computer. "It would appear that he has a number of cybernetic augmentations on his being."

"Anything more specific?" His colleague, a balding man with glasses in his forties, queried.

"Gorilla arms, courtesy of Arasaka, along with leg reinforcements from Militech, just to name a few. An interesting combination, to be sure."

The grey-suited man frowned. "'Saka tech, eh? That's some serious hardware. Is it gonna be an issue for us?"

The researcher shook his head. "I'm not seeing anything that would seem to contradict what's in his file, nor am I seeing anything in his readouts. By all indications, he is a healthy individual that is good to go."

Upon noticing the drones, Collins looked up and smiled at the cameras, raising both fists up to the air, "SHOW! ME! THE MONEY!"

"Eager one, isn't he?" The grey-suited man offhandedly remarked .

"Indeed," A.R.I.A. replied. "If the combat unit's performance is as expected, Mr. Collins' modifications should not pose any problems." As he distractedly clicked his tongue, the A.I. continued, "I believe it is time that we obliged him."

* * * * *

'...INITIATING STARTUP...

LOADING...

ULTRATECH COMBAT SYSTEMS

SERIES FULMINARE "CYBERWULF" MARK. 01, UNIT SERIAL NUMBER: S4.Q4NT. YX-001

VERSION 2.04

...

.../prjct_FULMINARE_activation_intd...

excte? Y/N

Y

CONFIRMED

RUNNING DIAGNOSTIC...

...POWER RE-ROUTING...

CELLS 20778900 75

MICRO 43520779 66

SERVOS 027722277 67

REGULATOR 479900009 77

VOLTAGE 791011222 76

EMITTER 204990009 66

DECODER 53009910 76

CAPACITOR 597338665 67

SUPPLY 40220079 57

SYSTEM INITIALIZATION

...DISENGAGING PRIMARY RESTRAINTS...

...DISENGAGING SECONDARY RESTRAINTS...'

* * * * *

Red eyes flashed on in activation, the engineering and medical staff backing away as the newest form of Fulgore stepped off from the gurney, its fearsome form departing.

* * * * *

"HYA!" Collins shouted as he did a roundhouse. "Oh yeah, that money is good as mine!"

Hearing the automated doors whir open, he turned and froze, taking in the being that entered the room.

It didn't look like a Fulgore combat unit - at least, one that he had ever seen...but it had a lot of physical similarities to its predecessor.

At five-eleven, the machine wasn't particularly tall - shorter than the typical Fulgore unit, which usually stood around six foot five - but it was far broader and more powerfully built.

Collins couldn't tell how much it weighed exactly, but from just looking at the damned thing and hearing its heavy footsteps, it looked and sounded like it weighed a ton, probably four or five hundred pounds at most.

He let his eyes roam along its strange contours.

In contrast to the typical Fulgore unit, which resembled a medieval knight complete with helmet plume, this particular model had a more fearsome and clearly bestial look, clearly not human in its shape and proportions.

A powerfully built chest with various vents and piping was built over a sleek grey metal chassis, with rotund black ball-joints around the shoulders and hips.

Standing on a pair of digitigrade automated legs with pistons and steel-clawed feet, the thing was mainly covered in dark green armor and metal with pneumatic air muscle, tubes, and various wiring protruding from its arms and legs, giving it a fleshy, cadaverous appearance that looked hideous.

To Collins, it looked almost as if some madman had flayed a person or animal alive, if not both, and then tried to forcefully merge the two together and cover parts of it up with armor and metal.

Triple-jointed legs aside, what made the being look especially fearsome, however, was its head, which was featureless. Devoid of a mouth, with two facial pipes looping over its shoulder, the head - or helm - was wolf-like, with a long snout and a pair of ear-like nubs or horns, which gave the profile a distinctly lupine look.

But it was the eyes that caught Collins attention - staring back at him in a perpetual harsh glare were a pair of bright though cold red digital lights that stared unblinking, shining with a distinct artificial intensity that made his flesh creep.

He watched the robotic being slowly approach the cage, its steps measured and precise, hard and powerful.

As it neared the entrance, Collins felt his breath hitch in his chest, his eyes roaming along its sinister form.

The entity stood completely still for a long time, its fearsome red eyes staring back him, unnerving the fighter, causing him to break out into a slight sweat.

Finally, the door opened, and the...machine...stepped inside, closing the gate behind it, allowing him to get a good look at the thing.

Seeing it in the light, it looked even more horrible and terrifying than before.

The worst aspect of the cyborg, though, were its hands, which were enormous; on each mechanical finger was a long, seven inch blade that glowed hot blue, the air ionizing.

"Wait a second," he muttered, "...is that...plasma...?"

* * * * *

From the observatory, the researchers coolly watched from on high, bracing themselves for the fight to come.

"Are the microphones and camera equipment ready?" A.R.I.A. spoke.

One of the researchers, a woman in her forties with long, blonde hair, nodded, "We're ready to proceed."

"Excellent. Let us begin."

"Initiating Project Fulminare, designation "Cyberwulf" Alpha-1," the woman spoke.

The man in grey frowned, cutting her off, "I still think we should change the name. Surely there is a better name than 'Fulminare' or, God help me for saying such a stupid thing, "Cyberwulf"."

"Marketing has already determined that the names are acceptable," A.R.I.A. confirmed through the speaker. "According to surveys from our focus groups, 85% of them have indicated a preference for the latter."

His frown deepened. "Fair enough, I suppose."

There was a prolonged pause, and then A.R.I.A. spoke again from the speaker, "Is there anything else?"

When nobody answered, she then continued, "Please continue, Doctor."

The woman nodded. "Initiating Cyberwulf Alpha-1. Combat Test Number One. Engaging hostile target."

* * * * *

From the speakers, Collins heard a single word, spoken with a harsh, metallic coldness and ferocity, a word spoken with such grit teeth savagery that it made him steel his nerves.

"READY!" Chris Sutherland's voice growled.

Letting out a yell, Collins charged toward his opponent, lashing out with a flurry of punches.

The machine stood its ground, its armored head wobbling from each punch made into its face.

* * * * *

The scientists and engineers calmly observed the fight, watching everything with detached expressions, with some of the latter studying the readings of the cyborg.

"Is the fight being recorded?" One asked.

"It is," A.R.I.A. confirmed. "The combat data will be useful." A moment of drawn out silence, and then she spoke again, "It would seem that the Cyberwulf model is holding up rather well."

One researcher, Ferrero, scoffed, "Bah! As if a soldier is just going to punch and kick at the damn thing! To be honest, A.R.I.A., I don't see why we should waste our time with this nonsense, in all honesty. It would be far better to have our weapons tested out on the field."

Several of the researchers anxiously regarded Ferrero as they looked back at the speaker, some of them inching away, as if for fear of being associated with him, if not fear of the possible retaliation.

After all, although A.R.I.A. was only an artificial intelligence and was only recently voted as chairperson of Ultratech, one could never be too careful, especially considering what she did to the previous chairman, Baron Von Sabrewulf.

Everyone in the observatory sat in silence, waiting in grim anticipation of what was to come.

But A.R.I.A. seemed to not take offence to the remarks, taking them in stride as she spoke, "That is precisely what we are doing, Dr. Ferrero - to make certain that our products can withstand a human opponent first before running further tests. Even you must realize the potential for error during this stage of development, Doctor."

Ferrero bristled slightly, his mouth clenching as he watched the fight, looking as if he were desperately refraining from saying something that he might regret. "Indeed."

Nearby, the grey-suited man watched the fight, his arms folded.

* * * * *

Collins let out a loud roar as he delivered barrage after barrage of powerful blows, uppercutting the machine, every punch jostling its head.

Spinning on his heel, his leg curling, he delivered a powerful roundhouse kick that made the combat unit stagger backward.

"Ha ha! Is this all you got?!" He taunted as he reared his fist back. "This is gonna be the easiest million dollars I've ever earned, and I'm gonna take it right to the bank!"

As he prepared to deliver the killing blow, a powerful uppercut, the combat unit backflipped, its steel-clawed feet raking along his chest and catching him in the chest and jaw, lifting him off the floor.

Searing pain wracked his mind along his chest, his jaw aching from the blow as he crashed hard down to the floor with a grunt.

Shaking the stars from his eyes, Collins spat out blood as he gave his mechanical opponent a hateful glare.

"Piece of shit!" He spat. Getting back up to his feet again, he charged toward his enemy, rearing his fist back, "Say good night, dickhead!"

Mere moments before his fist made contact, the combat droid disappeared, the air ionizing as it teleported away, causing him to skid to a halt.

"What?!"

Looking around in confusion, Collins spun around on his heel and spotted the machine as it loomed before him, its glowing red eyes locked onto his own.

Before he had time to react, the machine darted around the arena with a speed so startling that the fighter had trouble catching up. It was a blur of motion, moving so fast that it left after-images that faded ghostly behind it, swirling all around him, causing the fighter to take a nervous step back, his fists raised.

Throwing haymaker at one image, Collins stumbled as his fist failed to make contact, the fighter throwing a kick at another, meeting nothing but air.

A searing, burning pain raked across his back, causing Collins to let out a yell, the yell growing latter as he felt the same burning sensation slice across his left shoulder.

"DIE, YOU METAL FUCK!" He yelled as a metallic slot rose up from his wrist, revealing a machine gun.

RATATATATATATATATATA!

He watched as the combat droid danced around the discharged bullets, its metal form dashing wall to wall, floor to ceiling. It bounded off of every conceivable surface, moving impossibly fast as Collins' rounds trailed just ever so slightly behind it, until it suddenly vanished.

Ceasing fire, Collins warily searched around the arena for his opponent, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

Where did he go?

The arena was still as he waited, seconds turning to minutes, his skin damp with sweat.

Searching around with his wrist-mounted weapon, he just barely noticed movement from the corner of his eyes when the the thing was upon him.

Only a lucky ricochet saved him from getting skewered by the droid's outstretched clawed hands, causing it to stumble.

Grinning in satisfaction, Collins' continued to take advantage as he fired his weapon.

"That's right, you bastard!" He sneered. "Think you were gonna pull one over on me?!" He fired again. "Fuck you, tin can - I'm the one whose gonna make it out of this!"

He kept firing, and firing, and firing, every blast producing sparks as it ricocheted, the bullets not doing any discernible damage on the combat droid's form.

"I ain't fuckin' scared!" Collins taunted. "You think yer gonna be the new Adam Smasher?! Smasher would laugh and make you his bitch!"

Rounds pinged off its armored body, the combat droid staggering as a round struck it in the shoulder and chest before the machine curled up into a ball.

"What the fuck?!"

As Collins started to fire again, the metallic ball bounded off of everything, moving so fast that he had trouble tracking.

SLASH!

Collins let out a loud scream as he felt a scalding hot sensation across his arm, the fighter watching with horror as his limb fell to the floor.

Staggering slightly with wide eyes, Collins shakily attempted to lift up his remaining limb, only to find the slot stuck.

"Oh, come on!" He said with grit teeth. Swinging arm around, he shook his faulty limb, his eyes searching everywhere for his opponent.

"Come on, come on! Don't bail on me now, you junky piece of shit!"

Smacking it several times against a nearby wall, Collins felt sweat drip from his face, his expression worried.

"Shit." Turning to the cage door, he frantically pounded, "H-Help! Somebody help! Please, let me out of here!"

Hearing a hum behind him, Collins turned to find his opponent before him, its hands drawn to its sides like a gunslinger. He fearfully watched as the hands started to swivel rapidly around before finally coming to a halt. The machine then lifted its blue-clawed hands, pointing them directly at the fighter.

"Please..."

* * * * *

From the observatory, the researchers calmly watched the footage of the man screaming as his body violently jerked.

Blue plasma talons reigned from the cyborg's mechanical digits with machine gun speed and precision, the volley of projectiles accompanied by the intense red beams from its eyes.

Collins' screams reached a crescendo as his opponent unloaded everything that it had on him, the researchers quickly jotting notes down on their clipboards. None of the staff had any reaction to the man's suffering as they quietly examined the readings on the monitor, although the man in grey would shift just ever so slightly in his chair with annoyance.

By the time the screaming had finished and the smoke had cleared, all that remained of the fighter was a scorched and bloody floor, his bones and viscera coating the entire surface of the floor and ceiling.

On the screen before them, the victor remained starkly still, its soulless eyes pitilessly staring back with a harsh red L.E.D. glare that shined through the gloom, its green, metallic body stained and dripping with blood.

"It would seem that the cyborg was success," the man in grey nodded.

A researcher frowned. "Perhaps. We will need to do some further calibrations and finetuning on the eye lasers. Its speed is also a drain on the battery as well."

"Damage report?" A.R.I.A. queried.

The frown deepened. "We'll need some engineers to have a look just to be sure. There are some minor dents to the armor here and there, but nothing too substantial. Again, we'll need to have a look at the hardware inside. We will also need to see how it fares against other opponents as well. That said, however, the results are promising."

Nodding thoughtfully, the man in grey turned his dark eyes over to the still form of the cyborg.

To think that the esteemed Baron Konrad Von Sabrewulf would be Ultratech's potentially greatest weapon and asset - in a way, it was rather poetic.

The man had built the company from the ground up in his youth ages ago with the hopes of it helping him, and even though he had achieved many great things during his lifetime, now the company was going to benefit even more from his death.

After all, who would have guessed that the enigmatic CEO of Ultratech would have been - of all things - a werewolf?

Nobody within the company had known, and if it hadn't been for certain events that had resulted in his being voted out of his position, the Baron's secret would have been kept safe, and nobody would have been the wiser.

And now here he was, a once-great man, turned into a shell of his former self, stripped down to the very bone of everything.

A sentimental person might perhaps pity the Baron, if not weep for him.

But what would the point be for shedding tears?

In the end, it was just business.

The man in grey continued to stare at the still form of the cyborg unit. The only downside to the Cyberwulf unit, as far as he could tell so far, if any, was the apparent lack of subjects.

Efforts in locating similarly afflicted individuals have resulted in failure, and while it was possible that may change in the future, for all intents and purposes, it would seem that the Baron was the only half-human creature within the world. Perhaps the last werewolf in existence, even.

Taking out a cigarette, he quietly lit it up and smoked, puffing out dark plumes as he considered the potential new avenues and markets to be cornered.

It was a known fact within the corporation that much research was being done with Sabrewulf's genetics. After all, it was not every day that a half-human being fell on the company's doorstep, and what better opportunity was there than to put the Baron's genes to good use?

The R.I.P.T.O.R. combat unit was born from it, but under A.R.I.A.'s guidance, new avenues, offshoots, and variants were in development, all brimming with potential, each one a potential goldmine.

As the grey-suited man stared at the automated werewolf, he leaned back in his seat, thinking of the various potential military contracts and profits that could be made.

Who would have guessed that the death of one werewolf would bring so much?

There were new markets in the horizon, and by God it was so close that everyone within Ultratech could taste it.

Taking out a silver flask from his coat pocket, he unscrewed the cap and lifted it up, raising it to his former friend.

"Here is to you, Konrad," he said with a smile, toasting the cyberized lycanthrope. "To a new world of gods and monsters."

And with that declaration, he gulped down his drink.

* * * * *

Author's Notes: So, the idea for this story came from a thought experiment that I had, which was, "what would happen if Sabrewulf had been unable to escape from Ultratech in KI2?" I had been playing around with the idea of hybrid characters and character-based skins on the ultra-combo forums, even designed a couple here and there, so when I did "Cyberwulf", I became somewhat intrigued at the idea and thought of writing this up. Thus, this fic was born.

I hope everyone liked the story. If not, thank you for at least taking the time to read it.

Stay safe and healthy, everyone! :D