Knock out gas, steal the machine, and port anyone from the 2D world to the real world before destroying the machine. In the wrong hands it could be a disaster.
What if I threatened to hold you (you meaning next person) hostage as I rob a bank?
I didn't go through 11 years of karate to deal with that. I counter it by kidnapping you and torturing you in many ways to make you speak of who sent you.
A given mission, mechanical assault, manufactured devotion.
Red eyes, an upside-down form. Even the twisted shape was made to be that way.
No matter how cruel the slaughter, worse than a demon's,
or how gentle the kindness, greater than an angel's,
a machine has neither will nor madness—only code, and a few bugs.
So why, then, does it feel so unbearably sad?