Ironclad launched herself at the robot with a war cry amplified by her suit's speakers until it made the metal hallway ring like a bell. Her metal fist impact the robot's metal chest and went through without slowing, shoving a great mass of wires and tubes out the construct's back. It grabbed her arm with its one remaining hand and tried to push her away; instead she ripped her arm sideways and tore a great, gaping hole in the drone's side, spattering more of the floor and opposite wall with yellow lubricant. The metal man regarded its innards for a moment, then reached out its remaining hand to grab her. Ironclad took a step back and it overbalanced and fell to the floor. Before it could attempt to right itself, the heroine stomped on the creature's head, which burst like a ripe melon.
With her opponent vanquished, Ironclad stood there, not even breathing hard in her suit. She regarded the destruction of such an intriguing machine with sadness; she would have liked to talk to it, or at least dismantle it. But it had proved a threat and she had moved as past as she could to put it down. It was a shame, but what other choice did she have really? The heroine put such thoughts from her mind and glanced up and down the corridor. If this was really some kind of underground lab a la Resident Evil or the like, there was probably an elevator around somewhere. "On the other hand," she mused aloud, "if I have to find three keycards and manipulate the colors via some complex alchemy, I'm gonna rip a hole in the ceiling and make an escape tunnel."