The automaton lifted the sword, and brought it down with great violence on the Elder's chicken-skinny neck.
"Chuck!" rasped the blade.
"Bump!" replied the head.
The white-bearded ball rolled on the pavement until it stopped against the curb. Upside down, it looked at everything from a new and possibly revelatory viewpoint, for its expression was not only bewildered and hurt but, for the first time, educated.
Dafess City became bedlam, pandemonium, terror on a cataclysmic scale. The white body of the Truncated broke into fifty thousand fragments that fled here and there, circled, whirled, zig-zagged, leaped, crawled, bounded, darted, and lunged.
The legion of X stalked after them. They moved jerkily but swiftly. Above all, they moved relentlessly.
When a cornered person could not get by the awesome figure, he or she would go down on his or her knees and clasp his hands and howl, "Mercy! Mercy!"
"Justice!" roared the immobile lips of the mask.
"Slush!" smacked the lips of the blade.
"Thud!" echoed the head.