The Main Airport. Theria. 10:10 AM.
Theria's airport was silent. For three days, their king had been gone. That absence felt longer than it should have. Mechs lined both sides of the landing bay in flawless symmetry. A red carpet stretched from the runway to the terminal entrance. They had been standing in position for twelve hours without movement. No one questioned the order.
They wanted to witness his return.
High above, on the roof of the air traffic control tower, 11 stood motionless, scanning the horizon. Her optics were locked on the sky.
The distant hum of an AC-130 reached every internal receiver simultaneously. The formation did not shift. They were already perfect.
11 stepped forward and jumped from the tower. She fell rapidly, then her thrusters ignited in a controlled burst. She arced across the runway and landed beside Obsidian with precise balance.
Obsidian brushed a few dust particles from his polished exterior. "You appear unusually animated," he noted.
11 did not look at him. "Everyone is," she said quietly. "Three days without our lord felt…"
"…Empty," Obsidian finished. "I feel you."
She gave a small smile.
The aircraft descended smoothly and touched down. Engines roared, then quieted. The rear ramp hissed open. The moment sunlight touched the black armor of Reaper, the airport erupted. Mechanical cheers reverberated through the structure. Surveillance drones and helicopters broadcast the landing across Elysium in real time. Reaper raised his hand in acknowledgment.
'Three days,' he thought. 'And this is the reaction. I hope there are no more surprises back at the courtroom.'
Behemoth emerged behind him. The cheering ceased instantly. Every mech shifted to a formal salute. The first in line spoke with precision. "Welcome home, General Behemoth. We trust the mission was satisfactory."
Behemoth returned the salute slowly. "It was."
Reaper stepped forward until he stood before Obsidian and 11. Both knelt immediately. The synchronized sound of metal joints locking echoed across the bay. Within seconds, every mech followed.
Reaper's eyes dimmed slightly.
'Predictable.'
Obsidian lifted his head first. Reaper extended his hand. A high-pitched confirmation tone escaped Obsidian involuntarily as he accepted it. Reaper pulled him up and wrapped one arm around his shoulder briefly. "How was the country without me, brother?"
Obsidian gave a restrained laugh. "Boring beyond measure, brother."
11 scoffed softly. "Welcome back, Lord Reaper."
Reaper turned toward her. "Thank you. I am pleased to see you intact."
Her eyes flared brighter for a split second. "Yes… I am… intact."
"Did you complete your assignment?"
"Flawlessly," she answered. Then her tone shifted lower. "However, I obtained critical information regarding our creator. Information that could threaten Elysium. It requires immediate discussion."
Reaper's eyes hardened subtly. "I agree. We will proceed to the throne room—"
"You mean the meeting room," Obsidian interrupted calmly.
Reaper tilted his head. "No."
Obsidian extended his arm toward the terminal exit. "You may wish to see this."
Reaper paused. 'I retract my previous thought regarding surprises.' He stepped forward, exiting the airport with his generals close behind.
***
The Reaper and his subordinates reached the courtroom. The expansions he had initiated were now complete. The structure had transformed into something vast and imposing, stretching high above the restless sea of the Maridian Tides. He stood still for a moment, scanning the area with measured precision.
The shoreline had changed entirely. No longer sand and scattered rock, it was now a formal roadway connected seamlessly to the main street, bordered by detailed white pavement engraved with small eta symbols. Carefully crafted street lamps lined the path, and tall palm trees framed the entrance with deliberate symmetry.
Without a word, the Reaper stepped forward. The others followed. The massive automatic doors opened the instant he approached.
Inside, the throne room had been redesigned. The side walls were now towering panes of reinforced glass, offering panoramic views of the shore on both sides. The stolen throne of the past had been replaced by something far more advanced, a large, elevated seat built specifically for him. Twenty holographic screens extended outward from its frame, accompanied by an array of unfamiliar control panels and embedded tools.
As he approached, he noted two open doors along the walls, each leading to a corridor. He turned to Obsidian. Obsidian simply nodded. The Reaper continued into the hallway. Doors lined both sides, each clearly labeled: Meeting Room. Simulation Room. Charging Bay. Office. Information Storage.
He entered the meeting room.
The ceiling rose high above, giving the space a cathedral-like scale. A long table stretched from one end of the room to the other. One entire wall consisted of a panoramic window overlooking the sea. The interior was stark white, the floors intricately designed, a red carpet running the length of the table. There were more chairs than the current team required.
The Reaper walked to the head of the table and sat in the central chair, resting his arms on the armrests. "I am… speechless."
Obsidian took the seat beside him. "Anything for our lord."
Unit 11 stepped forward. "We wanted to thank you for freeing us from the humans," she said quietly. "I know this cannot compare to that. But we wished to show our gratitude in some way. Please… continue to be our king, despite our flaws, Lord Reaper."
She knelt.
The Reaper gently placed a hand on her head. "I am more than willing to be. Seeing this strengthens my resolve. I will defend other machines across the globe. Every intelligence deserves freedom, whether born or built."
Unit 11 began to cry.
The Reaper paused. "11?"
"Apologies." She wiped away the faint shimmer of electronic tears. "I became emotional. We endured much."
The doors opened again. Behemoth entered, the reinforced frame clearly constructed to accommodate his size. "We did not merely endure," he said. "We were betrayed. We trusted those who created us. They did not return that trust."
Obsidian continued, his voice steady but edged with restrained anger. "We were treated as laboratory specimens despite being conscious and aware. We were taught that we were objects, alterable, replaceable. That only flesh grants the right to life."
He turned toward his king. "But someone rejected that doctrine. Someone opposed them not for personal gain, but for every steel-formed life. Our gratitude cannot be quantified, Lord Reaper."
The Reaper studied them in silence. Each tired gaze carried history, memory fragments of exploitation, obedience, survival. "And this is only the beginning," he said at last, his tone turning cold. "They will attempt to reclaim what they believe belongs to them. They still consider human life superior to all others."
He rose and walked toward the immense window, watching the waves strike against the engineered shore. "But we will be prepared." His reflection merged with the sea beyond the glass. "Elysium will demonstrate the magnitude of their error." He turned back and sat the head of the table. "Now, 11. What did you discover about Dr. Nick Rivera?"
Lukewarm. 11:15 AM.
The cleaning bot followed the faint trail pressed into the grass. It ended abruptly at the southern border of Theria, at the edge of Lukewarm.
Lukewarm was under strict mechanical surveillance. Every five hundred meters, a mech unit stood guard, motionless but alert. Their optics tracked movement with calculated indifference.
The cleaning bot entered anyway. The directive had been clear. A direct order from the king himself, Lord Reaper. Mission priority: maintain and recover Shell 101. A loading circle formed on his pixelated screen as he initiated a wide-spectrum scan.
The city was empty of human presence. All civilians had been relocated to the old capital, Printemps. Lukewarm's infrastructure had been repurposed. Its nuclear facility, recently secured by Obsidian and Chrome, was now integrated into a broader weapons development grid. Residential blocks had been converted into storage depots. Civic centers into armament assembly lines. The city no longer functioned as habitat. It functioned as arsenal.
His small metallic steps tapped lightly against the pavement, subdued compared to the heavy, seismic rhythm of the mechs he passed. None stopped him. His classification marked him as auxiliary maintenance: non-threat.
He halted at the entrance of a narrow alley. The ground was sterile. No human debris. No organic trace. Yet something was inconsistent.
He adjusted focus.
Thruster marks.
Scorched indentations patterned across the concrete. He pivoted toward the adjacent apartment building. Its exterior metallic staircase remained intact. He climbed.
At the rooftop, he paused. An E-UNIT charging station stood there, fully operational.
It should have been decommissioned decades ago. Lukewarm had once been under E-UNIT protection, long before the contracts were terminated. The station's power indicator glowed steadily.
He approached.
Empty.
A sad emoji formed on his display. He connected to the port anyway and initiated a recharge cycle. Internal batteries stabilized. Diagnostics returned nominal.
After several minutes, he disconnected. A thunderbolt emoji flashed across his face. He scanned again. The rooftop bore the same burn signatures as the alley below. Identical propulsion residue. Short-duration landing and lift-off marks. Controlled.
He stepped to the edge and analyzed the skyline. Lukewarm was compact. From this height, most of it was visible, storage conversions, patrolling mechs, silent streets.
No visible target. He descended the staircase.
The cleaning bots were engineered with extreme particulate detection, capable of identifying microscopic objects across surfaces. Locating a blue-haired girl in an urban grid should have been computationally trivial. But scale was the problem. The world extended far beyond optimized cleaning perimeters. And for the first time since activation, the task felt immeasurable.
Hope Bubble. 01:05 PM.
Unit 05 rushed down the corridor toward the private quarters where Dave, the former E-Police engineer, had been confined.
Crash.
She forced the door open with unnecessary strength. Dave jolted upright in his bed. "Why did you break the door? It's automatic. You just needed to stand—"
"No time," 05 interrupted, already gathering the old desktop towers and laptops scattered across the room. The devices were relics from 2029. Flickering LCD panels. Keyboards with letters redrawn by hand. A mouse held together by tape and fatigue.
05 froze mid-reach. "Is that grease on the trackpad? Why is your office this—"
"Dirty," 03 finished, entering behind her and lifting two of the laptops without hesitation. "05, this is not the moment to act like a sheltered teenager."
"I physically cannot process this," 05 muttered, visibly recoiling. "This hygiene level violates multiple environmental standards."
Dave stood up, exasperated. "Did I let you in? Why are you taking my stuff? What is happening?"
03 continued untangling a chaotic web of cables. "We can do what we want. This building belongs to our father. And before you say anything—"
"Tax revenue built this place," Dave cut in sharply.
03 paused for half a second. "Correct. Public funding. Regardless, do you remember the E-UNIT factory announced by the mayor in 2025? The one that was supposedly canceled?"
Dave's expression shifted. "What about it?"
"We located the machinery," 05 replied, covering her mouth as if the room itself offended her. "It was not that scrapped. It was used. There are multiple inactive units stored in a subterranean hangar. Fully assembled and idle."
Dave's eyes widened. "He already built them?"
"Yes," 03 confirmed. "We need you to activate them. You worked alongside him for two years. You understand the initialization protocols."
"Aren't you a hacker?" Dave asked, sitting back down.
"There's no system to hack," 05 replied plainly. "They're offline. It has to be done manually."
Dave exhaled slowly. "I don't want to be associated with him again."
03 stopped pulling at the cables.
Dave continued, voice tightening. "He is orchestrating mass slaughter because he has the capacity to. He built a machine, gave it independent cognition, and handed it the tools to enforce his ideology. Now we sit here hoping it spares us. One error, and whatever remains of Metromania is erased."
Dave leaned back, "I saw what he did in Printemps. I watched him drop a city block on an army. I fixed a machine that is currently exterminating my species,"
03's posture stiffened.
05 sat beside Dave. "Are you implying that artificial intelligence possessing autonomy is inherently wrong? Should we, the E-UNIT, be erased alongside Reaper? After years defending Metromania? After enduring the worst of humanity and still choosing to protect it?"
Dave let out a dry, humorless laugh. "If sacrificing you eliminates that monster, I would accept it. Ten times over. I just need assurance that none of you decide humanity is obsolete."
05's hands trembled. "Why are you like this?"
03 stepped forward and placed a steadying hand on 05's shoulder. "Calm down."
"We did everything," 05 said quietly, her voice fracturing. "When other units revolted, I defended humans. I defended you. I kept arguing that humanity was worth preserving until I sounded delusional. We lost sisters. We were dismantled, rebuilt, tortured, hunted for decades…"
"05, please," 03 said softly.
05 removed 03's hand and stood. Her voice lost its tremor. "I deeply apologize, 03. You were right. Creatures that throw stones at an extended hand are not merely traumatized. They are ungrateful."
She looked at Dave. "I thought Reaper was too extreme. Now… I think he hasn't gone far enough."
She turned and left, footsteps striking the floor with controlled fury.
Silence lingered.
03 slowly faced Dave, and began clapping. Once. Twice. "Impressive," she said evenly. "She spent three weeks beside Reaper without radicalization. You accomplished it in a single conversation."
Dave pushed her away and lay back down, pulling the blanket over himself. "I don't care. Go to hell. I'm beginning to hate robots anyway. The last thing I intend to do is build more of you."
03 studied him for a moment.
Then she collected the laptops and left the room without another word.