The automaton worked dilligently, working on scrubbing as much soot, debris, and charring off of their frame as they could realistically accomplish. Sabotage missions were not quite to the satisfaction of TIN, lacking the raw carnage they savored, but they felt a sense of satisfaction on a job well done nonetheless. But completion of the target objective was only half the mission criteria. Safe extraction was another matter entirely, one far more complex. But that was still further ahead.

TIN was situated in a typical abode for a Martian backwater settlement. The mix of masonry, mud, and mechanisms was an interesting building scheme that reflected the pragmatism of the outskirt cities. It was architecture spawned of necessity, not out of the need to entertain the neighbors, or even the highly infrequent visitors. Still, it appeared that some cursory efforts at improving the aesthetics were underway. Tarps covered the floor, held down by the mostly empty cans of sealants and paints whose contents now adorned the walls. It was a strange thing for an Infolife to take solace in the physical world, adorning it to fit their needs, but TIN was something of an aberration. That aside, they were expecting guests, after all.

They heard them arrive before any of their other sensors picked them up. The technology existed to silence the sounds of weapons powering up, but these guests were the types to savor the normal moment when their hosts first perceived their deaths approaching. It was the analog to how ancient humans would cock the actions on their steel-spitting hand cannons to intimidate their marks. For all the efforts at intimidation, the automaton did not visibly respond at all.


----
Tyler dismissed the effect of his Chameleon Skin, satisfied that this mission was effectively resolved. His target seemed unaware, even once he had pointedly announced his arrival. The suspect was an amateur, clearly. Tyler communicated incredulity to his two comrades, expressing wonder as to why Oversight was employed to take this idiot down. Though, it made some amount of sense, seeing as this tin can had successfully cut the power to a vital trading server with their bombing. Perhaps the higher-ups felt that a lesson needed to be sent to the Barsoomians they presumed were behind the attack, as was their way. A sensation of amusement was received from Tyler's coworkers. For all this machine had done to try to hide their trail, here they were caught scrubbing the evidence from their shell, seemingly oblvious to having been discovered.

"Ah, so you've found me. I had thought for a bit I had gotten away free," the machine uttered, never once stopping its scrubbing and cleaning.

"You weren't exactly hard to find. Aside from that trail of bodies you left, there's enough forensic evidence left behind that even your backups would be erased once we find out who you are." Tyler couldn't suppress a chuckling smirk as he continued. "To say you lacked anything close to subtlety is an understatement." As Tyler ended this statement, he noticed fatigue creeping in. He had forgotten how much these backwater missions took out of you. His comrades seemed to echo his sentiments in their body language.

"You think subtlety mattered at all here? Or are you speaking just about your narrow point of view on the matter." The machine continued, "Nevertheless, I'm sure you'll try to extract some information from me before you carry out sentence. It's just procedure. I'll comply, if nothing more than to make this easier on us, but first, allow me to provide clarity on a few critical misconceptions you have on the situation."

Tyler narrowed his eyes. Exactly what in the world was this hunk of junk prattling on about? They didn't seem to be stalling for time and there was no chance of reinforcements arriving to save them. Perhaps they were being sincere? One of the three, nodded towards Tyler, as if reading his mind. The other operative stifled a yawn. With all this technology, mankind still hadn't figured out a way to fully suppress the yawn reflex, nor even understood it.

"Spill it, but don't think you can delay us to any end."

"You seem to have some flawed ideas concerning subterfuge and the very heart of espionage. Tell me, did you bother looking around the room when you entered, or were you too busy looking at me, conveniently the first thing you saw?

The assassin frowned. "I see a shoddy effort of a terrorist attempting to cover their tracks. Paint on the walls, cleaning implements all around, and unused disposal bags. I see an idiot caught red-handed and just buying more time." Tyler's head began to throb enough that they felt the need to send a signal to their pain suppression implants. His attention was refocused on the machine, but still felt a bit... off.

"You see exactly what I wanted you to see, but you don't question it at all. Subtlety is arranging things so that you can put things in plain sight for all to see, but they still won't see things for what they are. You look a bit uncomfortable. Have a seat. I'm not going anywhere since you've got me penned in here."

Tyler shook his head, that sense of fatigue getting worse. His companions seemed to already be slowly easing into the random chairs arranged around the room. He inwardly winced that his discomfort had been visible enough for his mark to take notice. No wince was present on the outside, a smirk instead spreading across his visage. "We've been around this ride before. You try to keep us talking, keep us distracted, maybe try to get us to let our guard down with hospitality. It's not going to work. You're still going to die. But sure, go ahead and tell us all how we've been deceived by the big, scary robo-bomber."

A brief silence filled the room, the only sound a quiet hiss of household appliances. "You see a crime scene being covered up, but you would be mistaken. I consider myself something of a hobby chemist. Did you know that back before the Fall, humans would sometimes paint their walls with lead-based paint of all things? Dreadful stuff. Highly toxic if ingested. Oh don't worry about that, the lead isn't going to somehow leap out of the walls and poison you. But the funny thing about lead is that it blocks radiation of all sorts. It even interferes with radio signals if you layer it on thick enough."

The hairs on the back of Tyler's neck stiffened, accompanied by a small wave of disorientation. His breath quickened involuntarily. Tyler had been in constant communication with his squad over the mesh feeds, but had not bothered to try to extend a line to the outside world. A quick test showed no response from HQ. The metallic moron didn't seem to realize that they were just as cut off as they were though.

"You might want to take care of your friend over there. He seems to be dozing a bit. Those furnishers weren't lying when they said that model was comfortable. Impressive."

Sure enough, one of Tyler's squad mates was slumped over a bit in the chair. Tyler shook his head, shaking off his own dizziness as he reached out to his teammate. There was barely a response, as if they were drifting in and out of consciousness. Tyler made a mental note to notify his supervisors of this unprofessional behavior when they got back. He wanted nothing more than a nap before the upcoming debriefing though.

"Ah, let me continue. You didn't notice for a moment that even the basic accoutrements of this abode did not line up with what you'd expect for a synthmorph. What does a robot need with comfy chairs? Why bother with furniture at all when there are AR decorations that come much cheaper? What does a machine need with a cornucopia fabber in the corner?"

That sense of confused horror continued for Tyler. Angrily, he took aim at his mark, the rifle not quite as steady in his grasp as it usually is. Were the pain suppressors not working? Why was he so tired and weak? Gazing over to his team showed them having lost the fight against whatever malady they were experiencing.

"You see, I expected your squad specifically. I figured out that you were responsible for Oversight field operations in this area. You use off-the-shelf models of Ghost morphs, which have a lot of impressive features. Your tactics make use of your effective invisibility allowing you to stalk your targets without their awareness." Something akin to a chuckle played from the robot's voice as he continued, "being on Mars, you have added some other basic modifications. Cold tolerance and oxygen sensors let you survive the harsh environs. But you've rendered yourself blind to the truly subtle things."

"I've mentioned that I'm a chemist, but I'm also something of a programmer. I've never had a use for a cornucopia machine, what with the complete contempt for ingestion I possess. However, I figured out that you could get these things to spit out almost any simple substances without much effort."

Tyler's gun drooped to the floor. Fear was about the only thing keeping him conscious at this point as the situation became more and more clear.

"Carbon Monoxide. Odorless, tasteless. It used to be a recurring problem for humanity, much like their lead paint issues. You don't see it much these days, what with transhumanity having eschewed the need for burning fossil fuels. You see, subtlety isn't turning invisible and playing secret agent. Subtlety is letting your opponent believe they've won as you are killing them without them even being aware. You can be very thankful that you will be unconscious for what comes next."

The gun clattered to the ground, followed shortly afterward by Tyler's limp form.

----

It was several hours later that TIN finished scrubbing the last of the blood off of their shell. There was something of lamentation in their mind. Red could be such a fetching color, and it always seemed to go well with the line of work.

Body disposal was a much easier process in this day and age. Rather than stealing off into the night to bury corpses, you could just assign a cleaning nanoswarm to scrub any traces of the evidence away. With another bit of programming, a cornucopia machine could even be rigged to accept flesh as a feedstock. Isn't technology grand? You generally had to reconfigure the bodies in order to fit into the stock receptacle, but their already being in small,easily handleable chunks certainly made it that much more convenient.

All that was left was the egress. TIN held a trio of metal and plastic implant parts in their hand, giving them a pensive look as they opened a channel to their router.

"Frettchen, I'll give you credit on this much: they took the bait exactly like you said they would... No, there were no witnesses. They were so overconfident that I sincerely doubt anyone even knows they came here... Yes, I have their cortical stacks intact... Oh please, I was nice this time. I doubt they even felt anything... Alright, I'll make the handoff at the designated location... Ugh, fine. I see your point. Probably best to make sure the heat dies down once this is discovered. Where are you sending me?... Locus? How convenient for you... No, I'm just as happy to get away from your sorry ass as you are mine... Well fuck you too. It will be good to get off this mudball for a while then... We're done then? Good. Ending transmission."