GREEN RAGE AND RED RAGE

The armored vehicle's cannons hummed as they locked onto the van. Behind it, the soldiers moved with the precision of a well-trained unit, spreading out in a semi-circle to block any escape routes. Their black combat gear blended seamlessly into the shadows, but the glow of their visors gave them an almost inhuman presence.

Inside the van, Jester leaned back against the seat, twirling one of his blades. "Alright, Luther, what's the game plan? I was thinking something dramatic, maybe involving explosions, lots of yelling, and a triumphant slow-motion walk away from the wreckage. Thoughts?"

Luther didn't answer immediately. His eyes glowed brighter, his massive claws flexing as the tension in the air thickened. "No time... for jokes," he rumbled.

"Buddy, if we don't have time for jokes, then what's the point of surviving?" Jester quipped. He kicked the door open and hopped out of the van, his twin blades gleaming in the dim light.

The soldiers raised their weapons in unison, the sound of safeties clicking off filling the silence.

"Stand down!" one of them barked, his voice amplified by a helmet speaker. "You are harboring a dangerous fugitive. Surrender now, and we'll consider sparing your life."

Jester tilted his head, pretending to mull it over. "Tempting, really. But I have this pesky moral code about not betraying my new giant green buddy. You understand."

The soldier's visor glinted. "Then you leave us no choice."

Before the words had even finished echoing, Luther burst out of the van with a roar that shook the ground. He slammed his massive fists into the asphalt, creating a shockwave that knocked the front line of soldiers off their feet.

"That's my guy!" Jester cheered, darting forward with a flourish of his blades.

The soldiers opened fire, their bullets ricocheting off Luther's impenetrable scales. He charged forward, swatting two of them aside like flies and grabbing a third by the torso. With a snarl, he hurled the unfortunate man into the side of the armored vehicle, denting the steel on impact.

Meanwhile, Jester moved like a whirlwind, weaving through the chaos with an almost theatrical grace. His blades flashed as he disarmed one soldier, then disoriented another with a quick strike to the helmet.

"Tag, you're it!" he sang, kicking one of the rifles toward Luther, who crushed it underfoot without breaking stride.

The armored vehicle roared to life, its turret swiveling to track Luther. The cannon fired, sending a shell hurtling toward him. Luther braced himself, crossing his massive arms in front of his chest. The explosion rocked the street, flames and smoke engulfing him.

"Luther!" Jester shouted, momentarily distracted.

From within the smoke, a figure emerged. Luther, unharmed but angrier than ever, stomped toward the vehicle. He grabbed its turret with both hands and, with a guttural roar, ripped it clean off. Sparks flew as the cannon was tossed aside like a broken toy.

The soldiers faltered, their movements betraying a flicker of fear.

"Now's your chance to run, boys!" Jester called, wiping the blood off one of his blades. "Because when my buddy here gets serious, things tend to break. Usually bones."

As if to emphasize his point, Luther slammed his fist into the side of the armored vehicle, flipping it onto its side with a deafening crash.

The remaining soldiers scrambled to retreat, disappearing into the shadows. For a moment, silence reigned, broken only by the crackling of flames from the destroyed vehicle.

"Well, that was fun," Jester said, sheathing his blades. "Not exactly subtle, but hey, you can't argue with results."

Luther turned to him, his glowing eyes narrowing. "More... will come."

"Of course they will," Jester replied, leaning casually against the overturned vehicle. "But that's tomorrow's problem. Right now, we need to focus on getting out of this death trap of a city."

Luther hesitated, his muscles still tense. Finally, he gave a reluctant nod.

"Good. Now, let's ditch this junk heap," Jester said, gesturing to the smoking van, "and find something a little less conspicuous. Maybe a bicycle built for two? You'd do all the pedaling, of course."

Luther snorted—a sound that could almost be mistaken for a laugh.

As they made their way down the abandoned street, neither noticed the faint glimmer of a tracking beacon blinking from the rubble.

Far above, in a darkened command center, a shadowy figure watched the scene unfold on multiple monitors. Their lips curled into a cold smile.

"Let them run," the figure murmured. "They can't escape forever."

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To be continued...