The ground began to rumble, the fallen leaves and dead grass shaking as the impacts of something massive approaching came slowly. Looking up, Shine saw the source of this disruption: a massive woolly mammoth-like beast with a pair of massive silver tusks that towered over the trees in the distance. Standing at a square cube law-defying height of 80 feet, it appeared his display attracted a bigger fish than he'd intended. But if this creature's only physics-defying power is its size, then this would be an easy victory. No sooner than he had processed such thoughts, his visual feed cut off, leaving him in darkness.
"Systems check. Sensory data."
[Visual feed: null. Audio feed: functional. Tactile data: functional.]
Okay, that's not great, but it's an easy enough fix.
"System, construct visual feed based on audio feed and tactile data."
His visual feed of the area came back—lesser. Anything that wasn't making sound was removed from his "vision." All that he could actually "see" was the ground, himself, and an approximation of the monster approaching him from 600 feet away, closing in. An all-around disorienting viewpoint that he hoped would never be needed again.
He closed his chassis, sealing his core once again, and turned his heat shielding up to maximum, turning the radius of dead grass and fallen trees around him to ash. He launched himself forward at max speed, leaving the sounds of his approach behind him as he charged the monster in silence. He'd learned his lesson from the last two encounters—passiveness is a fast way to get yourself killed when fighting enemies with unknown capabilities. It's better to strike first and strike hard.
Being unable to actually see the creature and forced to guess how far it moved based on its footsteps, he aimed low to the ground, stabbing into the monster's point of contact with the ground the instant the visual representation takes its next step. The spear landed, stabbing into something. It didn't feel like hardened flesh or fur; it felt more like pushing a spoon into cold lava or trying to cut gelatin with your thumb—not hard per se, although in theory and so far in practice, nothing was "hard" to cut with a monomolecular weapon (at least not if you're using it right)—just different. It was not an unpleasant feeling.
The machine felt his chest get pierced, scratching the core that hid beneath it as he was rammed through a tree by the creature's tusk. It appears this thing hits much faster than it moves. The visual representation of the creature was more detailed now, taking in the tactile data and the view of the creature's upper body from earlier, showing an image much more in line with what he'd seen, including real-time positioning and a clear target in the form of the monster's head.
He brought his spear down on the creature's skull, feeling more of that cold lava pushing against his spear as he rammed it through. But this time, he hit something crunchy underneath it. The attack caused the creature to throw Shine to the ground, dislodging the spear with him and separating the two.
The beast rushed forward to deliver a kick. Shine jumped back, managing to dodge, but before he could land, his leg was grabbed, and he was pulled back as the creature bit into Shine's head, crushing it beyond recognition—a worthless action that did little more than decrease the maximum range of his visual feed. A crippling loss, sure, but one that will have no impact on this battle besides the beast foolishly leaving itself open.
Shine placed his bone palm into the creature's spear wound and unleashed a torrent of radioactive fire into the monster's braincase, cooking its insides (for a brief moment, Shine regretted not having a sense of smell). It dropped him and fell to the ground, letting out a deafening, blood-curdling scream. A beautiful, horrifying sound that almost makes this worth it. It went silent, and Shine, still hearing the creature's heartbeat and breathing, opened fire on it and continued for a little over an hour. The monster's body died, and his visual feed returned to normal.
"System, run diagnostic check."
[Model: GWU-2013892-WE. Chosen name: Shine. Core: Polonium-210L—self-refilling, weaponizable (minorly damaged; self-repairs will be complete in 4 hours 12 minutes). Body type: Humanoid-male (incomplete, head missing). Titanium/tungsten compound-23 chassis (unfunctional; core radiation leaking; urgent repair needed; movement compromised; knee joints damage likely to collapse at full speed). Pure gold covering (destroyed). Arm replacement (hooved panther bone). Modifications: Polonium flamethrower (usable in short bursts), projected heat field, monomolecular spear, weight dampeners. Visual data: short-range visual functional; long-range visuals destroyed.]
"That's not good." Most of the damage is immediately repairable or only needed for aesthetics, which were rendered irrelevant the moment he was teleported here. But the chassis no longer being able to contain the core means that, on top of slowly killing any living thing he encounters just by being near them, he can also no longer avoid or hide from these bioweapons. They'll always sense the energy and move in to obtain his reactor. Even worse, his long-range video feed being destroyed means that he can only see out to around 5 miles around him at any given time. Drawing this thing here was a mistake. He had meant to use it to make repairs while taking minimal damage, but it was much stronger than his previous opponents. Despite him having the element of surprise this time and starting the fight off at full speed, he'd been completely shut down by its weird powers and strength. If it wasn't for his spear, he'd be unable to even damage the creature. After all, its outer body had managed to resist his second most powerful attack for over an hour.
He took a look at the monster's fallen body, getting a clear look at it for the first time. Its body and head were not too strange—a massive mammal covered in thick fur with silver tusks the same as he'd seen earlier. His hour of intermittent flame-throwing had done nothing to even singe its coat of fur. The only visible damage it bore was where his spear had pierced its head. Outside of that, the thing's upper half was virtually undamaged. Its legs, though, those were odd—made of a strange black gelatin-like material that seemed non-Newtonian in nature. He couldn't help but marvel at it, not because of how out of place the whole thing looked, but because it was the first time since being transported to this planet that one of these creatures' biology has made any sense. This at least partially explained how it supported itself.
He drew his spear and made his way over to the creature. "Alright, time to dissect it."