The $yndicate; Epidemic

For this situation, the ole 'Epidemic' was started up. It was the engine in the boiler room that dwelt at the pit of the Black Realm, where only the Void Bo $$ did tread.

Epidemic consumed fuel like it was starved, and its primary food were the Scraps of the Black Realm -- Tymon's Scrap Creations. It was a machine that powered many things, and was a core, though its mechanisms were somewhat incalculable in enigmatism.

As soon as the Epidemic awakened, its biohazard eyes flashed brightly, gleaming in the darkness, and fire sparked up behind it like a furnace. Its pistons began to pump and press out smoke, of which raised up and warned all living things that it was awake and ready to consume.

The mechanical core opened the mouths on its three heads; one breathed out exhaust, one scooped up scraps to eat and the last consumed the scraps whilst the other two heads alternated. This was how it functioned. Whatever was consumed was immediately reconfigured and converted through digestion into a working part of Epidemic's mechanisms.

Epidemic had no set targets. Everything was Scrap and was to be gathered up and repurposed within its large body. The left arm, which was one of its three heads, extended as far as it could go, ripping up anything and everything in its radius for the initial startup fuel. In order to grow to its greatest potential, it would need its designated Scraps in Sequence based on the Protocol for its Master Code, or else it would never reach its greatest potential at all.

They needed to be set up one at a time, as usual, in a specified order, as usual, like Tymon usually did with his cards, toys and artwork whenever he did so in the past to get this far. Epidemic was a very important part of Tymon's system.

The right arm breathed out exhaust as soon as the left consumed, searching for the pinpoint specific target for it to consume next before the left hand devoured another lot in the same direction.

Naturally, having to do all of this work from the bowels of Tymon's own waste bin was getting the device that was made to clean up to the verge of a breakdown. Epidemic, as it was called, would continue to scrape through the scraps and repurpose them throughout its body, but the scraps themselves were still far too numerous. The Biohazard sign on Epidemic's chest began to flicker, and its eyes would flash with the same 'Biohazard' sign, gleaming a blood red something like insanity.

Epidemic was overworked, much like Scarecrow was, and there needed to be an outlet of some sort that was more than just the two exhaust pipes serving as heads on either side of Epidemic, or else it would ultimately break down and have a meltdown, which would destroy everything in the Black Realm.

Out of a vicious necessity to alleviate the building pressure -- which would ultimately build up to critical mass -- the Epidemic began to consume only the scrap Mechanica that were within the piles and piles of old scrap work that Tymon had thrown down into the Black Realm, and those Mechanica would do work within Epidemic's protocol as an extension of the Epidemic, itself.

Consuming the Mechanica was no pretty matter when the Epidemic was on the verge of a simultaneous critical mass breakdown meltdown. In fact, now, its vehement voracity seemed more vicious than ever, and tearing through its own brethren looked like a vicarious carnivore devouring the flesh of another being. Yet, even so, the infinite complexity of the Epidemic and its protocol called for this type of mechanism to be activated in order for it to function properly -- and it ate.

Observing what looked like an insane machine literally rending its own kind was equated to the likeness of a human being ripping the raw flesh of another straight from the bone without missing a tendon, and the organs bursting betwixt the teeth of the cannibal.

Parts of other machines spewed from every which way as sprockets and coils spring out of the sharp, rigid edges of the mouths that fed, only for the heads to snap up the fleeting pieces with ravenous clamps. Literally no speck of metal nor any scrap was left behind, for all was food, and all was useful -- and the Epidemic grew.

Now that the Epidemic was getting more advanced, absorbing so much of the raw data and extraneous information of the older works and incorporating them into itself as if that were its primary function (and it was), it was able to actually complete the task of scrapping the rest of the works more diligently... But it didn't. Instead, it continued to gormandize on the Mechanica brethren that would have been cowering at the monstrosity now, which was large enough to be its own factory or power plant. It powered itself, yet was still incomplete in its workings. It needed more power -- more functionality. Fortunately, Tymon left so much scrap, it could create for itself its own perpetual generator out of itself and whatever there was to eat.

The Epidemic scraped for more, the noise it made like the sound of metal screeching against itself whilst cogs and gears ground other parts to pieces -- the noise was unholy, and only intensified in frequency as the Epidemic was stimulated by the pleasures of consumption and production, nearing the readiness for reproduction.

Its belly was now like a broiling furnace, with the heat from its mouth like the hot breath of hell for anything that was mechanical or metallic. Its primary system was now online instead of the automated background features that were meant to bring it this far all on auxiliary. The Epidemic was a living, breathing machine, and it breathed fire from its emotionlessly smiling mouth that melted the very nearest pieces of machinery that were not already part of its highly advanced system.

With its primary source finally stabilized and secure, it stood on its own two feet (proverbially speaking), extending its territory beyond the nature of its original hovering capacity. The stem of its body had already integrated deep into the ground and the network of its circuitry was heavily rooted through the means of its factorial revolution. It was not only stationed, it was still growing -- and consciously, at that. Yet, it still did not deem itself grand enough to do anything but consume... and consume, it did, continually.

"EAT..."

Wires, cords, and circuits both built in and from what it devoured would extend from out of its bodice as though they were arms and tentacles, the tendrils serving as a sort of life support that thirsted for more food in the stead of the mouths whilst the Master Program initiated its startup, finally. The extensions pouring from out of Epidemic now stretched from one end of the Black Realm to the other, and the light of its operation would glow like the burning metal that it consumed for fodder perpetually, perpetuating its own perpetual generator core deep down where this all began.