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Shirro
Description
Over his many years of competition, Shirro has developed unrivaled power, yet retains a youthful sence of humor.
Stats
- Name: Shirro
- Age: 73
- Specialty: Public Relations, Karate
- Power….: 20
- Agility..: 1
- Endurance: 8
Manual
Shirro is the Head of Public Relations for all of WAR. It was his idea to have this contest for the media coverage. He believes that if the event is popular enough, they may find a new business for the robots: entertainment. Though Shirro knows much about what happens deep within WAR, he never takes things too seriously and just hopes things will work themselves out. Those who have seen him in martial arts tournaments agree that he is both incredibly strong and tactful, always smiling and shaking your hand after he beats you.
VS
 | A girl of your beauty shouldn't be so troubled. | My peace will come after this battle is won. |  |
| | And now the little boy will go to school… | Little boy? I am twice your better and will prove it, now. |  |
| | Do you think that your choice in 'bots was right? | Guess we're gonna have to see. |  |
| | Your father was a good man. Things will work themselves out soon. | As soon as I get my hands on your boss. |  |
| | Do you use turtle wax on that head? | Nah. I use Mr. Kleen. | |
| | Hope you don't mind a few dents in that 'bot. | If you fight like you did in your last match, I am sure to win. |  |
| | Well, IB! Long time no see… | This is serious, friend. I must defeat you. |  |
| | Just what are you, girl? | The last thing your miserable company would expect. |  |
| | Though I admire you, I must have this victory! | But I'm afraid I have other plans… |  |
| | I know many of your weaknesses. You can forfeit now, boy. | You know nothing. |  |
| | What are you doing here? Oh well, the more the merrier. | Well well, I'm surprised to see you here, also. |  |
Ending 1
You awaken in your own body. For a few moments, you come down from the adrenaline high you've experienced. Your body seems so frail now. The team is already celebrating, and you welcome their congratulations.
The time to party is short-lived. Your mind takes in the last few hours events and the knowledge that an entire moon is now yours to command.
“Wait a sec!” comes a panicking voice from a vidmonitor. “Everyone! Listen!” he turns up the volume and everyone in the room is quiet.
“…was found dead today. We repeat, Hans Kreissack's body was found at 18:00 hours tonight in a garbage bin outside the Nova labratories.”
Everyone is holding their breath as the news reporter continues. “We have been handled this notice that was to be read when Kreissack won the fight tonight. It reads:”
“Notice to all humans: A new day has begun! Nova, a project started by WAR., will give new life! This process can take a human brain and place it inside a robotic body.”
“What you saw tonight was me, Hans Kreissack, directly connected to a new form of H.A.R. The human race will now see its ultimate evolution!”
The announcer lays down the digipad containing the message. “Tragically, all the scientists close to the project have been killed in a fire which broke out shortly after the last match tonight. All records of the Nova project were destroyed.”
“In other news…”
A crew member switches the display off. “Well, looks like we'll be lookin' for a new boss now…”
Ending 2
A human brain inside a robot? You think of the possibilities. How wonderful could it be to be inside that metal frame permanently? How powerful?
But look what that power did to Kreissack. You wonder what it might do to you…
You file that thought in the darker recesses of your mind and turn your attention to the future. A future where H.A.R. arena fighting is a sport instead of a simple publicity stunt. Since this wouldn't involve damage to living creatures, it could easily get past the World Peace Organization.
Yes! A new sport! Plus the money and fame will go to you! Eventually, so will WAR…
Ending 3
You can't seem to stop thinking about the future as you fly towards the moon.
As you land on the dark side of the moon, the future looks bright.
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