Gajeel snarled, the punch clanging against his scales somewhat less harmlessly than he would like. Shit those lasers and missiles had been a problem. He grabbed hold of Metabee's other arm, twisting it slightly as he lifted him off the floor with another growl (crap, this robot was heavier than he looked. Tiny or not, he was made of metal).

"We'll see about that." He stuck his face close to Metabee's, grinding his fangs together, and backed out of the cubicle, maintaining eye contact the whole time.