Like a metal comet, the colossal war-machine known as Wolfmech hurtled through the cosmos toward his intended target. In his wake lay ravaged worlds whose cities lay in smoldering ruins, whose forests had been blasted to cinders, and whose entire populations had been taken as fuel for the great machine.

Constructed long ago by living hands as a weapon of battle to be directed by generals and politicians, Wolfmech had performed beyond all expectation in the field, laying waste to one enemy stronghold after another. He had been built to resemble a gigantic and vicious wolf, a design that struck terror into the hearts of soldiers and civilians alike, and like the creature in whose image he was cast, Wolfmech was designed to eat. He was a fully self-sufficient fighting machine that fueled himself by capturing and ingesting enemy troops. Their flesh was melted from their bones in his great artificial stomach and burned to provide energy. A miracle of technology, he was capable even of rendering raw materials into usable feedstock to replenish his ammunition and hardware; thus, metal coins in the pockets of his victims became bullets with which he would fell even more. Uniforms became the synthetic pads of his feet, and teeth fillings were molded into new skin and circuitry. Simply put, Wolfmech was perfect, and to the dismay of his creators, he knew it.

History would never explain the transformation of mindless machine into conscious entity. Wolfmech had been designed solely to kill, and perhaps from the constant repetition of his assignment he had grown, as far as a machine is capable of such, to enjoy it. So it was that when the last of the enemy's people had died screaming in Wolfmech's stomach the carnage did not end. The moment the pilot left the cockpit the servant became the master. No longer dependent on the controlling hand within him and thirsting for death and fuel, Wolfmech ignored the remote commands that soon turned to desperate pleading and continued his murderous rampage, until the land around him was barren and lifeless.

Fully charged with fuel, Wolfmech sank deep into the ground then and slept, and slowly the ravaged land was repopulated with settlers from other parts of the world. They lived and died while he rested below, and they whispered tales of the terrible giant who had once ruled the land but then gone away. Generations passed while he lay in the darkness of his hidden tomb, his body gradually changing, metal transmuting, circuitry arranging and rearranging itself. When finally he re-emerged into a shocked and horrified world he had evolved far beyond any form imagined by his designers. Feeding on the raw materials he had ingested he had grown larger and now stood upright on two towering legs. His lupine features he had left unchanged; the ferocious, bestial appearance was already the perfect design for a weapon of terror. Bristling now with new weaponry that he was eager to test and burning with a hunger that had gone unfulfilled for centuries, Wolfmech set upon the citizenry with merciless determination. This time it was not merely two island nations, but an entire world that was his to conquer.

And conquer he did, ruthlessly and efficiently. The populace stood little chance against his power. They fled in droves, but there was nowhere to run. By the thousands they vanished into his jaws to be dissolved and converted to pure energy, and thus fortified he would easily overpower any defenses thrown up against him. Those who stood to fight were simply ground to pieces beneath his tread as he bore down on those who ran.

The world was vast and its inhabitants many. The massacre went on for years. Like a living creature the machine fed on the populace, nourishing himself, growing larger and stronger and in turn requiring ever more sustenance. His years of slumber had left him hungry not only for fuel, but also for newer and more intricate sources of stimulation. Wolfmech was no longer satisfied with just cold, efficient killing, and began to take delight in tormenting his prey. Often he would hold them prisoner in his belly for hours or even days simply to savor their struggles before he released his acid. Even when his fuel reserves were at maximum he continued the slaughter, cutting them down with bullets and poison, crushing them like ants beneath his metal feet, tearing them to pieces between Durasteel claws in a vast, perpetual orgy of brutality.

Inevitably, though, the pickings grew slim. Frustrated, Wolfmech scoured the countryside and strode from city to ruined city in search of the few pockets of survivors. These wretches would suffer the more than any as the great machine kept them alive, torturing them for days and sometimes weeks before finding other victims to satisfy himself.

Wolfmech eventually realized that a day would come when there would be no more victims, no more fuel. His processors analyzed the problem for a long time and concluded that only two rational courses of action existed: he could return to dormancy and wait for the remaining survivors to emerge from hiding and repopulate the world, or he could expand his search into new territories. Unwilling to wait again for so long, Wolfmech decided on the latter option.

Immediately he embarked on a final, thorough hunt and rounded up as many of the remaining populace as he could catch. These became his prisoners, and he fed upon them like cattle, drawing strength from them while his body generated the hardware he would need for his travels. His internal computers, working with the sum of all the knowledge snatched from his conquered territories, calculated probabilities and vectors, forces and trajectories. Finally, while the last living beings on the planet burned in his belly, Wolfmech leaped skyward and set course for the stars.

Eons passed. Worlds fell, purely for the pleasure of the destroyer. Wolfmech settled into a comfortable routine in which he would examine a target from afar, learning, storing, discerning strengths and weaknesses before striking. As the list of shattered worlds grew, so did Wolfmech's might and sophistication. As his less serviceable components began to wear out, Wolfmech learned to make slaves of the defeated populace and force them to maintain him. These were permitted to survive only until his systems were functioning at optimum levels, of course, and then they became nothing more than so much extra fuel.

There were even times when, just as in the early days, Wolfmech would accept a pilot. These were usually outcasts or depraved individuals who shared the machine's lust for destruction. He had long ago evolved beyond the need for a hand to control him, but there were rare times when even Wolfmech found some satisfaction from the companionship of a kindred spirit. These were times of simple computerized whimsy, however, and inevitably the pilot would outlive his usefulness and be discarded.

Wolfmech's cockpit was empty now as he approached the next virgin world. His last pilot had been with him longer than most and had grown old and feeble. For reasons that he could not adequately compute he had chosen to kill the pilot by gassing him in his sleep, quickly and painlessly, and then ejecting the lifeless body into the void. Wolfmech's processing units had somehow concluded that for this individual, such a simple and quiet method of disposal would be the most satisfying; he would spend years in space trying to understand why.

He abandoned his electronic cogitation as he drew within sensor range of the planet. All of his vast computing power was now devoted to long-range scanning and data interception, the translation of languages and codes and the most efficient means of disrupting communications. The entire world unfolded before his internal displays: industrialized society, non-spacefaring, low-to-moderate technology levels; ten percent primeval land mass, moderate agrarian spread, poorly-harvested oceans. His attention was drawn to strong activity in one localized region that indicated either catastrophic events or armed conflict. Interested, Wolfmech entered the atmosphere to inspect the activity more closely.

What his sensors encountered miles below was so incalculable that several processors overloaded and required rebooting. Focusing all of his cameras on the scene below he began to record as much data as he could while the remaining processors tried to make sense of it.

A city was under attack as he had suspected, but by an assailant the likes of which he had never encountered, nor had ever been reported on any known world. Infrared analysis proved it to be a biological entity, but enormous, almost as large as Wolfmech himself, and bearing an astonishing physical resemblance to him. It was a huge wolf-like being, bipedal, almost an exact duplicate of Wolfmech sculpted from living flesh.

The overburdened processors locked up again and Wolfmech was forced to retreat to the outer atmosphere to take them offline. His cameras continued to record the scene.

The giant wolf was feeding upon the populace by herding them into dead ends and then gathering them up in dexterous hands. That implied at least a rudimentary intellect. Military and other defense units were observed making numerous attempts to corner the creature, who nonetheless circled cannily through streets and over buildings in order to outflank and devour them. At length the creature chased down some fleeing refugees and began to trample aggressively upon them. It did not eat, but rather left the broken bodies behind. Unmistakable deliberation, perhaps even premeditation. This creature was obviously not a simple predator.

Wolfmech had seen enough. This creature would simply have to go.

In time the giant wolf abandoned the city and moved into a forested region where its infrared signature was obscured and lost. Wolfmech entered the atmosphere once again and scanned the stricken city. The creature's attack, for all its ferocity, had been highly inefficient, leaving a large portion of the city intact and a high percentage of survivors. Nevertheless, the mere presence of such a being represented a potential threat as well as competition, both of which Wolfmech preferred to eliminate before undertaking a conquest.

He descended and touched down in the midst of the destruction, the shock of his padded feet shaking some of the damaged buildings from their precarious leanings and sending them crashing to the ground. Focusing on the rubble he detected groups of survivors emerging and warily approaching him, an unprecedented reaction. He remained motionless, tentatively concluding that the giant wolf's amateurish attacks had desensitized the population to such a threat in their midst. It soon became apparent though that these people had never seen such a machine as Wolfmech before and saw him as an ally, some sort of great metal savior come to deliver them from the lupine giant who tormented them.

Wolfmech found that highly amusing.

The crowd at his feet began to swell, their faces upturned and filled with amazement. A collective gasp arose and the crowd fell back when Wolfmech finally began to move. Mechanical muscles tensed silently, and the great machine crouched and lowered a hand to the ground, palm open and inviting.

As anticipated, an individual more brave or more foolhardy than the others stepped forwards and climbed into the waiting palm. Wolfmech stood slowly and brought the trembling passenger to his muzzle. Optic sensors illuminated the tiny creature with a yellow glow and Durasteel fangs flashed as Wolfmech spoke. "What was that creature?"

The sudden words uttered in its own tongue left the little creature dumbstruck. Wolfmech waited, and then his speaker volume increased. "Answer me," he commanded. "Tell me about that creature."

"We...we call him Rogue," the little one said, snapped out of his stupor by Wolfmech's booming voice. "I don't know where he comes from." Wolfmech's eyes narrowed, making the captive shiver more violently. "That is, we'd heard about him. Some people said they saw him up in the mountains, but who believed it? Then he started attacking us -- Rogue, I mean. First at the outskirts, but now in the city itself. He comes more and more often and we can't stop him."

"Where is he now?"

"We don't know. That is, somewhere west, that way. We sent people out to follow him but nobody came back." It jabbered for several minutes longer and then stopped, staring at the machine with mounting trepidation. "You...you'll help us, won't you?"

Wolfmech's flexible metallic lips drew back from his teeth, and a sound that could only be described as laughter thundered from his speakers. Satisfied that there was no more information to be gathered here he tossed the little creature aside and started forward, the stunned onlookers now of no significance to him. He stepped on them as he strode through their midst, indifferent to their cries, heedless of the crunch of their bodies underfoot. His attention was focused fully on the trail that the giant wolf, this so-called Rogue, had left through the woodlands in the distance.

It was not a difficult trail to follow. The broken trees gave way to rocky foothills rising toward a mountain range. Uninhabited land stretched for miles in all directions. Wolfmech noticed skeletal remains ahead, mostly broken and scattered; some lay pulverized within the depths of gigantic footprints.

A great cavern loomed in the face of a mountain ahead, and Wolfmech knew that he had found the beast's lair. He brought his full arsenal of weaponry to bear on the opening and his speakers began to wail with a thousand voices crying out in terror and agony.

The noise, recorded ages ago during one of Wolfmech's conquests, had the desired effect. Lured by the sounds a gray muzzle appeared, sniffing curiously, and then Rogue's immense form emerged into the light and regarded the metal intruder with bewildered eyes. The recording ceased abruptly and Wolfmech's command center issued the order to fire.

Silence.

The order was repeated, to no avail. Not one of the multitudes of guns trained on the big wolf responded. Electronic alarms began to register throughout Wolfmech's systems.

Rogue advanced cautiously, step by ponderous step, eyes fixed on the puzzling newcomer.

Wolfmech's processors frantically analyzed his weapons systems. Every unit responded appropriately, giving no indication of any malfunction. The firing command was sent once more, but again, no missiles launched, not a single bullet was fired.

The giant wolf took a final, hesitant step, and now stood almost nose-to-nose with his mechanical twin. Rogue peered inquisitively into its eyes and sniffed. His tail swayed in an uncertain wag at first, and then with growing confidence. He began to lick softly at Wolfmech's muzzle, leaving moist smears with his tongue upon the shiny metallic skin.

Every processor in Wolfmech's body overloaded. His sensors registered the gentle sweeps of the bio-wolf's tongue and sent back wildly conflicting signals that even his immense computing power could not decode. His weapons systems continued to refuse activation while repeatedly reporting themselves armed and ready. Only his recorders continued to operate normally, dutifully reporting the flood of data while his processing units struggled desperately to interpret it.

Rogue nuzzled warmly along the underside of Wolfmech's jaw and then slumped and fell to the ground with a jarring crash. He rolled to his back, limbs sprawled, and lifted his head to peer playfully up at the machine.

Wolfmech's systems were utterly confounded, his processors surrendering and shutting down. Unable to compute any logical response, he found himself crouching down and slowly extending a hand. Durasteel claws designed to rip through reinforced construction now glided with utmost care through the fur of Rogue's exposed belly. Rogue crooned and began to squirm happily, his tail brushing aside boulders and bones as it began a brisk wag between his legs.

One after another, Wolfmech's processors gradually came back online. A final, thorough scan indicated that all of his systems were fully functional once again. He hesitated briefly, considering, and then powered down his weaponry. For a long time he just knelt by Rogue's side, his murderous claws slowly stroking through the thick, shaggy fur, his speakers quietly imitating the big wolf's contented groans.

Evening had begun to fall when Rogue finally sat up. He lowered his head to lap at Wolfmech's fingers and then rolled to his feet. Tail wagging merrily, he bounded to the cave entrance, cast an inviting glance over his shoulder, and then disappeared into the depths of the mountain.

Wolfmech hesitated, staring for several seconds down into the darkness. Then his metallic lips drew up into the semblance of a smile and he started down into the cave, his sensors vaguely registering that his tail was wagging as well.

*****