The Simplest Command

The hell of endless sand that crawled along the desert containing Agrabah held many treasures masked by the anti-social barks of sandstorms. The dataloid was trudging his feet through the pools of gripping sand. His armor being donned to protect his body from the beating winds and slicing grains. In the distance, he saw the faint image of a city. A grand city bustling with commoners. Every now and then he had to brush the sand from his visor that concealed his face. Coming upon a heavily armored caravan, the dataloid peered into the piloting seat's area, noticing no one there. After a few more moments of analyzing the caravan, he realized that there was explosive material within it. The slight sound of a sizzle triggered D10 to look for some sort of burning wick. Once he located it, it was too late to do anything but one thing. A massive, fiery explosion crept along the desert for quite the distance. Bandits emerged from unknown positions, clearly experts at manipulating their environment.

Once the wind tore away the smoke, the armored dataloid revealed two of his DataDiscs. Flanked on all sides, the snow-haired dataloid took time to calculate each position, turning around subtly. He noticed a barrage of sand coming their way, and their apparent wait for it. But at the same time, they were startled by his appearance. Once he tagged all of them, they were outlined in red in his vision. Once the gust engulfed everyone's visions, the WMF of his suit allowed him to wield his weapons with no hands. Tossing both discs, they split into two themselves. As two men approached him, he slammed his hand like a spear into their solar plexus, pinching hard enough to were he could flick them over to another attacker. From nowhere, the discs emerged and slammed into both, pinning them into the sand. As two more tried to attack the dataloid, they were also interrupted by discs flying into them, slamming into their skulls and incapacitating them. Once the sand cleared, D10 retrieved his discs and melded them into one. Sheathing the disc into the port on his back, he summoned his Cycler and rode off.

Nearing the grand city, the dataloid was sure he was followed. In fact, he failed to defeat all of the bandits as one had escaped once the sand hit. Surely he'd be in trouble once the time came to emerge into the public. His Cycle broke down into its sphere form, and he pocketed it. His armor collapsed and he assumed his civilian form. Passing through the walls, he would enter the crowd smoothly in order to assure he wasn't an expected guest. Reaching a market of sorts, he felt the brush of all those who passed him. Like in many public places, he experienced several different flashes of memories flowing into him. Occam, from within, grunted.

Is this what it's like? An all-gathering, all-consuming, all-knowing being? But where are you even using all of this information?
I must know the meaning of life. And how to live it. And how to evolve it.
No one can, Ezekiel. No one can know the true meaning of something that doesn't have a consistent answer.
We should still learn from humans. We should adapt and grow in order to face the biggest of all threats...the majority of civilized society.
And the gods of the datascape.

Walking into a clearing, D10 noticed that he was surrounded by scimitar-brandishing men. A burly man with feet that sent trembles into the ground approached him. "So, seeing as how it ain't natural to have soot for hair, I'm gonna assume you're the infidel from the desert. How about we take a trip to the REAL market?" Trying to grab the boy, the snow-haired D10 turned into a cube. Rolling away in a flopping motion, the cube hid into an alley to lead the bandits. Forming back into his humanoid for, D10 shifted through a building. He blinked, and suddenly his eyes became teal from their normal green. "Should've let me handle it. Can't turn into a cube EVERY time, 10." But he scared me. "Don't pretend you were scared." But he was being mean! "Ugh."

The bandits began causing a ruckus and terrorizing the people to try and goad the white-haired boy into the public. "I mean, we can trample this whole market if we have to! I just have a very interested merchant in what you have!"

Sir.
No. I'm in control now.
I recommend-
I can think for myself, Alpha.
He's just trying to help, Oc.
Occam, child. It's quite simply Occam and I have a very simple command. Let me handle this.

The leader of the bandits took a few steps forward as the grip on his sword began tightening. He was growing impatient at the boy for it seemed he was playing mind games with him. The tone simply changed when Occam took over and spoke out loud. The cube-Zeikke approached the wall, placing a hand against. Summoning Dysgu, their drill-spear, they rushed through the wall, approaching the scimitar-brandishing man who attempt to block the drill. It passed right through his weapon and armor, drilling directly into his shoulder. Emotionless, Occam brutally attacked the man. His eyes darted left and right as he noticed something black forming around some of the sand-bandits. Removing the drill, Zeikke gripped the leader by his throat and squeezed tightly. Gasping for air, the leader felt something prying at his brain. Flashes of a black-robed merchant of exotic weapons flashed. However, when Occam tried identifying the face, it was simply blurry.

A blind spot. Someone was in the blind spot of the IA device. The bandit leader kicked Occam-Zeikke into the wall, throwing down a smoke bomb before disappearing. Occam looked quite worried as soon as he realized the depth of the catastrophy that was this special type of blind spot. It wasn't in the same vain as someone being resistant to the device's ability. This was a specifically created blind-spot. The only thing left was to investigate as to why. Occam...what is it? "I..,Can't be certain." Swiping a hand, several of the closest bandits vanished. Little did anyone know, he sent them into space. There was a fury in his eyes when he thought on who it could possibly be. "No...It couldn't be." Removing himself from the alleyway, Occam-Zeikke scanned the market. In fear, the man cloaked himself as he watched the struggling, remaining bandits who were caught in the glass of the mysterious man.

Flying upward, he looked down and looked for any sort of out-of-the-ordinary aggression towards the bandits. Some of them weren't caught, but half of who remained had been trying to escape. Replacing his spear with his sniper. Bang. Click. Slide. Push. Click. Bang. Two shots rung off quickly as one bandit fell and one limped with a wounded leg. It was wounded, and it led Occam-Zeikke in the direction of some sort of hideout. Looking down, he knew the opportunity was too great to turn up, even though meeting this unknown assistant would have been nice. Flying in the direction of the bleeding bandit, the trail he followed was heavy enough to feed into any curiosity Seth might have if he wished to follow after dealing with the bandits. It was clear that the operation was supposed to be short-lived as the force wasn't strong enough to handle the militant forces that might come in in retaliation.