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You've practically working your butt off for a while now, it's about time the original pulled his weight for once. Taking advantage of his kindness, you opt to sit this one out. Besides, with your eyes on the fritz, you just might get in the way. You would hate to be pitied, and you would hate to be dead weight even more.
"Bro, I'm beat. Take over, would you?"
"Sure thing. Sleep it off." One said as confidently as ever. What a reliable guy. The last thing you do is put yourself upright, leaning yourself against the wall as you take a well-deserved breather. Yup! Leave it to big bro, it’s his responsibility anyways.
...
Cracking your knuckles outwards, you swing your neck around, as you face your back towards Kamen Rider Beta. Right now, his armor was scratched and dented all over, more importantly, the lights for his compound visor are out. It's as you expected, he's lost his sight. Beta seems to be having a rough go of it, you're not scared or worried, on the contrary, you have a plan for that. First thing's first though, you need to clean up the rabble.
"Take a load off, from now on, Kamen Rider Alpha is in charge." You declare.
"Aren't you always?" Beta decides to give you some snark, you let it slide though.
Taking a pose that extends your fist outwards, you gesture for the nearest droid to come at you. As if they needed the encouragement, the security forces are already coming for you. Handling the unarmed ones proves easy. Even for the blinded Beta, as you saw, countering their strikes or pummeling them into the floor is as easy as breathing. Without your own gun though, the ranged ones are a little trickier, but you have the tools. Dodging what you can, you employ the bigger bots as shields, blocking occasionally, then you employ any damaged parts or those same 'shields' as a weapon. Flinging whatever you could in the direction of any incoming fire, until you could get yourself up close, and give them a taste of your own 'guns'.
Then you come across what was giving Beta the most trouble. You're not surprised, it's a strange thing. Clanking every which way, it climbs over its comrades, over walls and onto ceilings. To say it's slippery is one thing, what strikes you more is that you don't recognize the design at all. Dozens of robotic looking spiders. Their chassis doesn't hold up any better than the others, but their design's smaller size gives them a low profile, making it tough to make out where they are between the damaged panels, and the stacks of bodies. And they shoot out some sort of sticky netting, a web even.
"Almost done out there. Just buy me a little more time!" Ordovis shouts over the communicator. Now that you're close enough you're also privy to his status updates. Until now, any attempts to reach out to them were met with static, or some garbled transmissions. Well, aside from-
