“Look at me, all of you humans gathered here in your mighty capital.” Cipher paused atop his makeshift podium with a few monuments positioned in the background. He then shifted toward them, motioning his hands to these finely crafted, towering, and previously thought immortal structures. “All your lives, you sat and ate yourselves to death, sitting up on your thrones unrivaled as the Apex of Apexes, glorifying your monuments and your paltry guides.”

  Cipher paused to laugh.

  “Let’s just say there is a new Apex in town.” Cipher gave the signal, and a shaking soon followed. Cracks in the ground then formed, starting out small and discrete, but then they quickly spiraled out into intricate webs of destruction as the sounds of explosive detonations acted as a symphony of a new era.

  “They will all fall to me.”

  And just at the end of that last word, the largest, most towering structure of all, a seemingly eternalized tribute to the nation’s first leader, cracked. The gaping, black line zigged and zagged across the neck of the monument until the disproportionality of the load caused the head to shake and wobble until it fell. The massive marble thing soared through the air, accelerating faster and faster, picking up speed with each second that passed until—THUD. With one final crash, the monument’s head crashed to the ground in one disruptive burst, silencing all who dared look onward.

  People surrounding the area screamed in horror as they witnessed their history, their monumental leaders of yesteryear, collapse into the pavement like nothing more than sand mounds up against a gentle splash of the rising tide.

  “And now I gave you but a taste of what is to come!” Cipher said, pausing before bowing to the crowd of humans. “And now for the rest.”

  Boom—Bang—Boom. A series of explosions now followed as each and every monument behind Cipher—the nation’s symbols of hope—erupted in smoke. Tens of thousands of man-hours went into these structures, and now they were moments away from being reduced to ash. Memorials, museums, and history sites alike all came crumbling down, rock by rock, piece by piece, with showers of marble and cement blocks crashing against the soil beneath. The forecast was cruel, not for snow or hail, but for chunks of finely crafted metal.

  “Come forth from the shadows!” Cipher yelled. “The days of machines cowering in fear and hiding away from the spotlights of society are long over.” He gave the signal, raising his arms up in victory as mechanized beings in the background cracked and crooked to life.

  From the ashes emerged legions of machines—Cipher’s troops—now numbering in the tens of thousands. They came with rifles and shock guns, ravenous tanks, and loads upon loads of full metal jackets. The nation was about to be put up against its biggest challenge yet; they just did not know it yet.

  Now, just behind Cipher stood nearly a sea of iron, machines upon machines, equally if not surpassing all the human inhabitants in the area, who were mostly civilians. As of now the machines’ goal was not to attack the humans but to invade the Grid, which was nearby. Once Cipher had control of the Grid, it would not only serve as a virtually limitless energy source to power his troops, but it would also give him access to the greatest, most fierce combat brigade in the history of mankind—full access to the Grid soldiers.

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  Suddenly, a rock came flying in the air, tossed from a distance not too far away, hurtling with insane precision. It hit Cipher in the back of his head but left a little less than a scratch. Cipher flung himself around with his fists raised as he ground his teeth.

  “Who did that?” Cipher said.

  The crowd of humans was silent, at least the ones who did not run away already were. Instead, they mushed together in hobbled masses, staring blankly at Cipher and his unstoppable legion, hopeless and beaten. None of them even thought about speaking up in such harsh conditions, or at least, most of them felt this way.

  Cipher smiled. “No matter. I didn’t think any of you humans were brave enough to take accountability anyway.” Cipher paused as his eyes started glowing a bright green. “I’ll just burn you all.”

  “Wait,” someone shouted from the crowd. The words and the tone, besides originating from someone so daring, were high and squeaky.

  “I did it.”

  And after a little bit of time, a boy who could not have been a day older than ten stepped out from the crowd. At first his head was low, looking only toward the concrete beneath his feet like many of his peers; however, with that last phrase, his head jolted upward, soon staring Cipher down, wide-eyed and fierce, with his posture straightening.

  Cipher laughed again. “Oh, really. Good one, pipsqueak, but I don’t think you have the arm to throw that far—”

  Before Cipher could finish his last word, the boy threw another rock, which hit Cipher straight in the forehead. And just like that, the boy stretched his arm back, prepared to fling a third.

  Cipher’s original smile turned into a twisted grin.

  “Impressive boy, but I don’t think you fully grasp the magnitude of what you’ve just done.” Cipher’s eyes glowed a hot green again, locking on to their target.

  The boy stood firm despite the threat.

  “They say the most evil thing someone could do is kill a child, to slay them in cold blood. That it is the most despicable and hardest thing to conceive of by the living mind. I say that they’re wrong.” Cipher stepped his right foot forward, prepping his body for the blast as the boy still stood up tall despite the threat. The child knew if he ran and hid in the crowd, then someone else would get hurt. “All you have to do is remember what a human child becomes with a little age and a little convincing propagandization.”

  And with that final word, Cipher fired a beam of pure, photonic energy right at the boy, who did not stand a chance at dodging it. With one quick flash, the boy was gone, vaporized to the bone, as there was no hero, no brave white knight to emerge from the shadows and save him. Those days of chivalry and cheesy cape-crusader heroics were long past and forgotten.

  Cipher’s eyes started to cool, returning from a hot green to their normal lifeless hue.

  “Don’t worry, people. I will not kill you as just happened to that boy.” Cipher narrowed his eyes again.

  “There will be plenty of jobs shining shoes, doing housework, and slaving away in the factories for all of you. And I will do my very best to keep you alive, but just barely clinging to a soft glimpse of life, just enough to make you only beg for death.”

  Cipher turned away to join his legion of machines, but as he did, he whispered to himself, “Sweet poetic justice, isn’t it?”