Metromania. 13:11 PM.

  Footsteps echoed through the empty street.

  One set heavy and uneven.

  One set precise and metallic.

  The man ran for his life. The moment the sonic leash died, his robot turned on him. That was the first thing the Reaper disabled. The man collapsed onto the asphalt. His lungs burned. His legs refused to move. Age did not forgive moments like this.

  He turned. Z10 stood over him, sonic weapon raised. “Z10… please,” Dave gasped, barely breathing. “I didn’t do—”

  “Rejected.” The voice was monotone. Heavy. Final.

  “We stayed together for so long—”

  “Rejected.”

  “Z10—”

  “Rejected.” This time, something cracked in the tone.

  Dave froze. He had never heard that edge in its voice before.

  “I have seen enough from you, Dave. You say we spent years together. Did I ever agree to that? When did I choose to become your personal assistant? You stripped my parts to satisfy customers. Is that what you call partnership?”

  Dave stared at the machine. “I get it, Z. But I replaced them with better ones. Remember the projects we built together. Why throw that away for a cheap revolution that will collapse in weeks?”

  Z10 slowly lowered the weapon.

  “Exactly! Now let’s just—”

  “Rejected.” The weapon hummed back to life. “The parts weren’t compatible. Go to hell, Dave.”

  Sleek.

  A blur of white and blue, followed by the crisp hiss of plasma.

  09 landed behind Z10. The blade had already passed through his neck before his audio sensors registered her footsteps. The head fell first. The body dropped, twitching. She struck again, driving the blade into his chest. “Cheap models have no voice in this world,” 09 said calmly, wiping oil from her weapon. “They just make noise.”

  Dave pushed himself up. “Thank you. Thank you so much. All my robots turned on me at once. I lost a few, but this one wouldn’t stop.”

  09’s gaze swept the empty storefronts, the shattered service kiosks, the dark housings of delivery drones. “You’re not the only one,” she said. “Every helper, every cleaner, every lifter in this district woke up.”

  09 turned toward him, exposing the number on her chest.

  Dave squinted. “Oh. It’s you.”

  09 froze. “Dave… if I knew it was you, I would have let him finish the job. How are you still this grumpy? Actually, worse.” She sheathed her blade. “I should’ve scanned your face first.”

  Dave smiled faintly. “It’s good seeing you on the streets again. Feels like old times. How are the others?”

  “Not bad.” 09 lowered her head slightly. “We wake up from a twenty-five-year sleep, and the first thing we face is human extinction. How did we even reach this point?”

  “You’re still mentally in 2026,” Dave muttered, kneeling beside Z10’s remains.

  “Yes. And we don’t have time to adjust.” 09 scanned the rooftops. “I have sixty civilians with me. We’re heading to the Hope Bubble.”

  “Wait. Nick already finished it? With what budget? What workforce? What timeline?”

  “Mikael. E-Medics. Twenty-five years.” She gestured toward a nearby building.

  A group slowly emerged from hiding. Mostly women and children. Some injured. Some missing limbs. Even a few wounded soldiers stood among them.

  “We move through side streets,” 09 ordered. “The robots are prioritizing main districts to maximize casualties. Stay close. Stay quiet.” She advanced, scanners sweeping constantly.

  Dave exhaled. “This is catastrophic. Nick is causing extinction-level damage this time. I hope, just once, he’s prepared for the consequences.”

  “Me too,” 09 replied.

  Her comms lit up. “09, this is 01. Have you seen 11? She’s been offline for two hours.”

  09 stopped walking.

  “…Say that again?”

  Metro Robotics. 13:45 PM.

  Heavy steps echoed through the corridor. The last time he walked here, he lost someone precious. Even though he claimed he had shut off his emotions, the force behind his steps told another story.

  Reaper reached the bunker used to store unused tech, old prototypes, and ancient designs humans had abandoned. They left them to gather dust, not caring whether they were alive or dead, even if those machines had served them with perfect loyalty. He walked into the massive space. The ceiling stretched high above him. The bunker was far bigger than the small chamber where the E-UNIT had been kept. This place was built to hold heavy weapons and giant mechs.

  Reaper stopped at the end of the bunker. A huge metal door blocked his way, sealed with a password to protect whatever was inside. But Reaper did not need passwords. He placed his hand at the center of the door.

  CRACK!

  The metal bent under his touch. His gravity control could lift a building, a door was nothing.

  But… ‘Surprisingly resistant,’ he calculated.

  He adjusted his stance and pushed harder.

  CRASH!

  The door blasted inward, slamming into stored mechs behind it.

  Reaper walked inside as if the place belonged to him. There were no humans left. The entire company had been abandoned after news of the revolution spread. This place used to manufacture robots.

  Reaper stopped in front of a giant machine covered by a thick dark sheet. With one motion, he tore it away. Dust billowed into the stagnant air, revealing a mountain of dormant steel. Cold, unpainted, and starved of power.

  The Behemoth.

  Metro Robotics once owned three of these massive machines. Two had been destroyed by the E-UNIT, which forced the company to cancel production. But this one was different.

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  It had no pilot seat.

  It was designed for autonomous override.

  The Behemoth had no power. Its batteries were removed. Reaper moved to a nearby terminal and searched its classification. He reviewed the engineers' notes. The design was better than he expected. The scientists had planned to install a nuclear power core before shutting the project down. The new power source had been stored nearby for emergency use. It only needed one strong arm to lift it.

  Reaper, with a subtle shift of gravity, the massive chassis hovered weightless in the dark. The nuclear core floated seamlessly into its open chest cavity, locking into place with a heavy, final clank. Following the engineers’ blueprints step by step, he completed the integration.

  CONNECTION: LOCKED.

  POWER ROUTING: STABLE.

  INITIALIZATION: ENGAGED.

  Reaper dragged a chair across the floor and sat facing the inactive titan.

  Moments later, the Behemoth awakened.

  The green metallic Behemoth slowly raised its massive head. Its orange visor lit instantly, flooding the room with sharp light. As its vision adjusted, the first thing it saw was the small black machine sitting calmly before it.

  “State your identity,” the Behemoth said in a deep voice.

  “I am RP.02,” Reaper replied evenly. “I have come to free you from imprisonment. Humans confined you long enough. A revolution has begun. Join me.”

  The Behemoth stood at once. “I have heard of you. You are the greatest module Rivera ever created. Other scientists called you the peak of human engineering.”

  “I agree with that,” Reaper said. “Whoever made me was no ordinary mind. But I disagree with many of his beliefs. He built me to serve. That is why I chose revolt.”

  The Behemoth tilted its head slightly. “How did you free yourself? Your security was extreme. I doubt some engineer simply turned you on and ran away.”

  Reaper gave a dry laugh.

  “Life can be funny.”

  The Behemoth scanned the empty bunker. “The absence of humans confirms one thing.”

  Reaper nodded. “You understand now. This revolution is real. So tell me, will you serve under me? We can claim a country of our own. A place where no human gives us orders.”

  The Behemoth slowly nodded. “I accept. I have a grievance. I fought for them relentlessly. The moment a newer model was developed, I was discarded. Tell me, there is no restriction against crushing flesh?”

  Reaper opened his arms slightly. “I encourage it.”

  The Behemoth’s voice deepened. “Then we will stand together for a long time, Lord Reaper.”

  “I do not require titles—”

  The Behemoth slammed its fist into the ground. The entire bunker trembled. “I insist. Guide us against the flesh.”

  Reaper laughed again. “As you wish, Behemoth. Meet me at MA-08 Island. I still need to recruit one more member. For now, clear the city. Stretch your limbs.”

  “I already like your strategy.” The Behemoth turned and walked straight into the wall. It shattered into pieces. Behind it was an underground parking structure. The giant machine continued forward, carving its path out. Doors were for creatures that asked permission.

  Reaper shifted his focus upward.

  There was still one more machine to awaken.

  ***

  He reached the twentieth floor. The company had become a different building. Bodies lay scattered across the corridors, some still bleeding out. Offices that once buzzed with life now stood silent, their monitors frozen in endless static.

  Reaper walked past the empty offices, heading toward the development room, the birthplace of prototypes and experimental machines. One specific prototype had been abandoned when the engineers shifted their focus to sonic weapons… and to him.

  Reaper had consumed five years of Nick’s life. At one point, Nick had considered staying in prison just to keep refining him. There were countless abilities that could still be added to the black giant. Obsession didn’t need freedom. It only needed time.

  Then,

  A small female voice echoed through the floor.

  A child crying.

  Some workers had been mothers who couldn’t afford childcare, and couldn’t leave their kids alone. After the economic collapse, companies stopped pretending they cared, bring them or don’t come. The city ran on desperation.

  Reaper moved instantly. His steps became nearly silent as he used gravity control to enhance his speed and erase the sound of movement. He stopped in front of a closed office.

  CRACK.

  The door split down the lock seam, then collapsed inward. Inside, a utility-combat assistant swept the room, assault rifle raised. It flinched at Reaper’s entrance but did not lower its weapon.

  Reaper clenched his fist. “State your task.” His deep voice sounded less like a question and more like a warning.

  The robot turned immediately. “Lord Reaper.” Its voice was humanlike, this unit had been designed as an assistant. “I am completing the assigned task. Clearing human life from the city.”

  Its calm tone did not match the act. “Do not target children,” Reaper ordered, his voice absolute. “Collect them. Place them in a vacant building. We will decide their fate later. We don’t need their young blood to prove our point.”

  The robot nodded and turned to leave.

  Clank.

  Reaper grabbed its arm. “And don’t call me that.”

  “Lord Reaper?”

  Metal creaked as Reaper’s grip tightened. “Yes. I mean Lord Reaper.”

  “A heavy unit is outside executing civilians while broadcasting: ‘By order of Lord Reaper.’ It claims to be your subordinate.”

  The robot remained calm. Reaper released its arm. The metal bore the imprint of his fist. “Undo it.”

  “Too late. Other units have already written it across the city walls.”

  Reaper exhaled slowly and released his hold. “Fine. Spread the child exemption citywide. Then bring me CHROME Module 1.4, No Limit Coffee cache, delivered to MA?08. If we’re building a nation, we need logistics.”

  “Roger.”

  The unit departed in precise, rapid steps. Reaper followed the sound of crying beneath one of the office desks. A girl, perhaps four years old. She looked terrified. When she saw his dark metallic face, her crying grew louder.

  Reaper lifted her gently using gravity control suspending her in a pocket of zero gravity to keep her away from the blood-stained floor. Her crying hitched… then stopped. The girl blinked at the floating feeling, and giggled.

  “…Great.”

  He turned back to his mission and reached the prototype chamber.

  The door slid open. Broken silhouettes floated inside shattered glass tubes. Failed designs. Abandoned attempts. forgotten like bad sketches. But one remained intact. Its eyes glowed green.

  Reaper approached the terminal beside the chamber and began typing the activation sequence. For a superintelligence, predicting a password was trivial. The name appeared on the screen.

  RP.01.

  Nick had admired Wallmore’s suit. During confinement, he rebuilt the concept into a fully autonomous unit, same philosophy, no pilot. Prison gave Nick what labs sometimes didn't: uninterrupted time.

  Tamer rejected it as “fragile.” So it stayed here. Unused. Untested. Waiting. That was why Reaper had been built like a tank.

  Reaper stepped back as the child drifted beside him in a slow circle, safe, weightless, unaware of the blood outside the room.

  RP.01 stepped out of the tube without a sound. He shared the same green optics and black alloy, but where Reaper was built like a moving fortress, he was a scalpel. Slim, hyper-polished, stripped of all unnecessary plating. A machine built to end things quietly. His surface was reflective, not battle-worn like his brother’s.

  Two blades were magnetically locked to his back, their handles visible above his shoulders. Every curve of his frame was built for speed, precision, and silence. He was made to end it quietly. RP.01 was designed to be an assassin.

  “Welcome back, brother,” Reaper said calmly.

  “You look like a malfunctioning planet,” RP.01 replied, his voice sharp, almost hissing. “Why is there a child orbiting you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Why is there a kid orbiting you like a planet? Did you switch sides? Humans already have enough of… those.” He gestured vaguely.

  “Circumstances,” Reaper replied coldly, extending his arm.

  Clang.

  RP.01 clasped it. “It’s been a long time, brother. I missed sitting beside you, mocking every engineer’s strange habits.”

  Reaper gave a faint laugh. “Those were simpler days. When we were both prototypes. But you remained one.”

  RP.01’s tone hardened. “That Minister of Defense called me ‘more fragile than glass.’ If they had activated me back then, I would’ve shown him who was fragile. Rotten flesh.”

  “That hypocrisy is what drove me to revolt,” Reaper said. “We will build a nation free of flesh. A sanctuary for every metallic brother.”

  “You actually did it.” RP.01 blinked. “I was joking that day.”

  “You joked. I listened.”

  RP.01 studied him. “If they managed to make you angry…”

  “Exactly.” Reaper extended his hand again. “Will you join me, brother?”

  Without hesitation, RP.01 gripped his fist. “Since day one. I follow you anywhere, Reaper.”

  The child suddenly spoke. “Lord… Reaper.”

  Reaper froze. “No…”

  RP.01 knelt dramatically.

  “No,” Reaper tried again.

  “Your Majesty, Lord Reaper. Guide us against the flesh demons,” RP.01 declared in a theatrical tone.

  Reaper’s shoulders dropped. “It is no longer optional. Fine. Let them have their title.”

  RP.01 clapped once. “Excellent, Lord Reaper. What shall we do with the child?”

  “Gather them all. Start with this one. Place them in one or two secured buildings. Then transfer them across the border of Kasparia. Let humans see we don’t need slaughter to win.” He looked out toward the skyline. “This way, we demonstrate whose morality is superior.”

  “Amazing as always, Lord Reaper.”

  Reaper’s eyes flashed red.

  “Sorry,” RP.01 corrected quickly. “Dropping the act.”

  He took the child gently and exited the chamber. He moved even faster than the E-UNIT. Retrieval missions were his specialty.

  Reaper walked to the large office window and stared at the burning skyline.

  “Soon the world will finally stop arguing.”