Number 28 Story

Thump…Thump…Thump…His footsteps thundered down the road, causing passers-by to stare in amazement, dogs to howl in back yards and alarmed old ladies to peer out of their bedroom windows wearing petrified looks on their faces.

His legs were as long as oak trees, his torso was as wide as a house and his fists were as heavy as tractors: this metallic monster meant business.

“Number 28 checking in. Over.” He spoke into the radio set, built in to his helmet.

His instructions crackled back through the earpiece. He knew what he had to do…

He jumped so high he could see the planet he came from. While he was soaring through the air he told his commander "I KNOW WHAT I HAVE TO DO".  

*Dramatic Noise* "Turn off the radio commander" The pilot of Number 28 demanded "Ok" his commander mumbled. He landed at a small little farm then told his commander "So we're looking for the Sword of Shinobi?" "Yes but we only know what it looks like, we have no idea where it is, if it has a map, and last but not least if it even exists?"The commander replied "It has to because it's the only thing left by my family!" the pilot shouted "It's okay" the commander said cheerfully.

They kept on traveling until sunset then the pilot asked "Can we set up camp here?" "Yes" the commander replied. The next day the pilot woke up and heard cars approaching but they weren't ordinary cars. When he used his microscopic eyes in Number 28 and they weren't cars they were the Navy and U.S Army with tanks, helicopters and soldiers. The pilot of Number 28 felt chills come down and up his spine. He got his arm out and it turned into a Genormous Utility Nunchuck. I won (of course) but I heard that they will come back so I am going to go to the place where the sword of shinobi was last seen. To be continued...