SYSTEMS RECALIBRATING.

POWER SUPPLY AT EIGHTY-NINE PERCENT AND CLIMBING. SYSTEMS REBOOTING.

STATUS: UNIT IS FUNCTIONAL. MOST MAJOR SYSTEMS HAVE BEEN REPAIRED AND ARE FULLY OPERATIONAL.

POWER AT ONE HUNDRED PERCENT. REACTIVATING ALL SYSTEMS.

REACITVATING OPTICS. UNIT IS NOW OPERATIONAL.

The blackness faded. Slowly, a picture formed into Commander Keen's robotic eyes. For a few moments, the image was out of focus and the picture kept crackling with static. But soon, it came into focus.

Keen looked around. Around him lay piles of trash and junk. Half destroyed cars, pipes, tires, and all sorts of mangled equipment lay everywhere. Rats occasionally crawled out of the piles, glancing at Keen before darting away.

Keen shook his head. He was alive. Somehow, he had survived the battle with the NIT Watchman.

Well, he had. Keen remembered how both Vasquez and Reynolds had perished inside the factory, both having violent deaths. At least Vasquez had gone out fighting, but Reynolds had been murdered at the hands of a former teammate.

The commander remembered that Derek had died in the factory as well. But he was no longer human, much less a member of Keen's squad.

Keen brushed aside his thoughts of his former team. They were dead now. No sense thinking about them. It was time to figure out where he was and what had happened after his systems had forcibly shut down.

Suddenly, the commander heard a voice. It was a man's voice, with a distinctive Southern accent.

"Ah!" The voice yelled, sounding cheery. "That did it after all! I didn't think it worked at first, but I guess it took awhile for yer' systems to reboot."

Keen looked up and saw a man sitting on the dusty ground in front of him. The man was covered in dirt and grim, and had on some very old looking clothes. His face was nearly obscured by a massive, scraggly beard. In his hands, he held two sparking wires, which he put down on the ground.

The commander noticed a table behind the man. On the table was a wrench, a screwdriver, a drill, and several metal components. Next to the table was a bedsheet, which was also filthy.

Keen ignored the man for a moment and gazed up at the sky. He saw nothing at first, but then, three Missionary Extinctioners flew overhead. The Missionary vehicles circled over the junkyard briefly, before turning away and heading towards the city.

The commander glanced at the man. "Who are you?"

"Me?" The man asked, grinning. "Ah, I'm Roy Matthews. I used to be a member of the United Armies. I was the head engineer, specializing in robotics. I had it pretty good, until I accidentally got a man killed. I was kicked out and without the handsome army check every year to support me, I lost my apartment too. This junkyard has served as my home for the last year."

Keen looked down at himself. His uniform was in tatters, barely clinging to his flesh. Parts of his skin were missing, showing off his metallic body underneath. But most of the injuries he had suffered at the hands of Derek and the NIT Watchman were repaired.

"You fixed me," Keen stated. "Why?"

"Why?" Roy said, raising his eyebrows. He laughed. "Commander, yer' a legend in the army. The machine that can fight any enemy and has won more battles than any unit in history! One week ago, I found you in the ruins of that factory. That NIT Watchman you were fighting got attack by a massive army squad before it could finish you off. It was distracted and I used the opportunity to get you out of there. I saw your body was repairing itself, but it was taking too long. So I fixed you myself, using spare parts I found around the junkyard. Then, after a couple of days, I decided to try and bring you back online. I figured you just needed a shock of electricity! It didn't work the first dozen times, until now, of course."

Keen analyzed the information presented to him. Roy's logic was flawed, but it had worked. The commander also noted that it had been one week since he had been knocked off line.

"Tell me," Keen asked. "What has become of the city? Have the Missionary taken it over?"

Roy halted and his face grew forelorn. "Yeah…they won. In the end, they proved too much for the U.A. and killed or converted everybody here. Their leader took over the tower in the center of town and he's been broadcasting announcements, saying a new world order has begun. The Missionary are preparing to move out, onto the next city and do the same to it as well."

Keen clenched his fist. If he hadn't been knocked offline by the NIT Watchman, he might have gotten to the tower and prevented all this. But now…now it was too late. He was the only member of the U.A. possibly still alive in this city.

The commander suddenly had a thought. "Do you know what became of Director Ryan?"

Roy shrugged. "I ain't heard anything 'bought him. A bunch of evacuation 'copters came to the city the day after I found you. They got a few people out. He might have been among them…"

Keen nodded. He had no way to contact the United Earth, thanks to the NIT Watchman jamming the COM channel. His entire squad was dead and the United Army had been dealt a serious blow. The Missionary owned this city now and from all appearances, it appeared the rest of the cities would soon fall.

"You didn't happen to recover any of my weapons, did you?" The commander asked. He stood, standing tall and flexed his joints.

Roy stood as well, looking up at Keen. "Sorry, sir, I didn't. But I do have two of my own I'm willing to give you."

The homeless man turned and walked over to his table. He leaned down, rummaging underneath it. After a moment, he pulled two things out and walked back to Keen.

Roy held up the objects. First, he handed the commander some sort of gun.

Keen looked over the gun. It was a Stevens 311R 12-gague double-barreled shotgun. Specifically, it was a sawed off shotgun. It looked in good shape. Roy must have maintained it well.

Keen knew a sawed off shotgun wasn't the best weapon he could have. For one, it had very short range and could only fire twice before it was spent. However, it did pack a punch at close range, probably enough to kill any Missionary Drone.

"I call that beauty Tomahawk!" Roy said, grinning broadly. "I found it when rummaging through the trash one day. Who would throw out such an antique?! Nutbags…"

Roy dug in his pocket and pulled out a very large of bullets. He gave them to the commander as well and said, "You'll need it more than me. I know it ain't as powerful as an assault rifle, but I think it'll do."

The homeless man also pulled out something else from his pocket. It was a shotgun holster. He handed it to Keen as well, and said, "Found that with the gun too. Those people must have been completely insane."

Keen nodded and said, "And the other weapon?"

Roy held up his hand. He was holding a machete in it. He looked at it once, before sighing and said, "This is my primary weapon…but you need it more than I do, commander. Yer' the only one who can save us. Here."

The homeless man handed the machete over as well. Keen gripped it firmly in his left hand. The machete was also in very good shape, looking nice and sharp.

"Not the best weapon, I know," Roy said. "But it'll do in a pinch."

The commander grabbed the shotgun holster and hooked it to his ragged uniform. He then loaded the sawed off shotgun and shoved it into the holster.

Keen grasped the machete firmly and said, "These will do. I know how to make use of non-conventional weapons. They programmed it into me."

Roy grinned. "Well, good luck, commander. I'll be here when you get done killing the Missionary. Come and find me when you're all through."

Keen nodded, before saying, "I thank you, Roy. You have given humanity a fighting chance again. I do have one more request. Do you have any clothing I could borrow?"

Roy narrowed his eyes in confusion. "I…uh didn't think you'd be all that concerned with yer' appearance, sir."

Keen ignored his remark and asked, "Do you have a coat?"

"Yeah…" Roy said, turning and marching over to one of the junk piles. He tossed some stuff aside, before pulling out an old, beaten sheepskin jacket. The homeless man dusted it off, before handing it to Keen.

Keen slipped on the coat. It hid his injuries well, although not his ruined uniform. The commander looked back at Roy and nodded in thanks.

"I'll be going now," Keen said. "I shall try and fighting my way back to the tower. I still have a mission to complete. I shall see it through."

"Good luck, sir," Roy said, saluting the commander. "I'm glad I could help."

Keen nodded once more, before turning away and heading out across the junkyard. He looked at the city overlooking it and wondered if he could stop the Missionary all on his own.