Punch after punch, creating Fotias, firing them, then creating more. And then punching again.

  In the narrow corridor, bathed in the red glow of emergency lights and filled with battle cries, pained groans, and the shrieking of the alarms, Simon finally felt free to unleash what burned inside him: rage. Blind, stupid rage. Every now and then, he let out a triumphant yell, as if each downed guard was a point scored in his favor.

  What a joy it was to pound on Imperialists! To blow Cyclops units to pieces with a single energy punch! The sheer exhilaration of it was almost too much to bear.

  They had partially blocked off the entrance to the corridor using the steel door Kitty had ripped off its hinges minutes earlier. They’d tied it up with yards of wires to the metal panels on the walls, forcing the soldiers and androids to squeeze through a narrow opening. It was much easier to disarm and take them down one by one that way.

  Of course, every now and then, a group of soldiers managed to break through and outnumber them. That’s when Kitty’s brute strength and sheer size came into play.

  With his massive arms and monstrous hands, the giant grabbed soldiers by their heads and smashed them together. Or he barreled into them like a rugby player ready to score. He was like a wrecking ball taking out bowling pins, a rampaging bull tossing anyone who dared stand in his way. His yellow jumpsuit, which hadn’t had sleeves from the start, was now missing part of its pants and had a tear across its back.

  Simon could’ve sworn he saw a couple of bullets hit the brute, only to get swallowed up by the mountain of muscle that was his body. A bit of blood spilled out, adding another scar to the countless ones already crisscrossing his skin. Perfect. This idiot had turned out to be the best human shield Simon could’ve hoped for—a shield that fought back.

  Like a speeding truck, Kitty charged at two of those terrifying Cyclops units, crushing them underfoot. He grabbed a third one by the head and ankles, tearing it apart as easily as Simon had torn apart the chicken wing during lunch. Shards of metal and solid silicone flew everywhere, accompanied by splashes of dark oil.

  Fortunately, it was just a cybernetic mechanism that had been ripped apart. If it had been a human, Simon would’ve been drenched in blood and guts. What a beast! He’d never seen such savagery in real life—only in movies. Witnessing it firsthand, hearing the crunch of breaking bones and the screech of metal being torn to shreds, was an unforgettable experience. Equal parts terrifying and exhilarating.

  “You enjoyin’ this, huh, gorilla?” Simon called out to Kitty with a laugh. “Oh yeah! Soon as we’re done here, we’re crackin’ open some beers! Whaddaya say, gorilla? Lots o’ beer!”

  Kitty turned his scarred head toward Simon, grabbed him by the neck, and yanked him close. Simon could smell the giant’s foul breath and see the gaps where his teeth should’ve been.

  “Call Kitty a gorilla again, and Kitty will tear you apart,” the brute growled, spraying Simon with spit before shoving him away.

  Simon adjusted his jumpsuit and backed away, disgusted more than afraid, and turned his focus back to the Imperialists pouring in. The Eddanian woman had ordered them to keep the soldiers from reaching the next hatch in the corridor—the one behind them. And unlike Kitty, she inspired real terror. He wasn’t about to disappoint her.

  Then a blast brought down their makeshift barricade. The steel door crashed to the floor, dragging the wall panels and cables with it. A sharp whistle cut through the chaos. From the curtain of smoke and fire now seeping into the corridor, a projectile spiraled through the air, heading straight for them. The soldiers had brought out the heavy artillery.

  Just in time to avoid being hit, Simon threw himself to the ground, covering his head with his arms. He pressed his face to the floor. A second later, the impact hit. The explosion was deafening.

  The blast behind him sent fingers of fire licking the walls, spewing shards of metal and debris down the hall, and unleashing a wave of hot air that scraped across his butt. That was way too close!

  With an unbearable ringing in his ears, Simon scrambled to his feet before more soldiers arrived. If they found him still on the ground, he’d be an easy target.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  Kitty was already standing, covered in dust and streaked with splatters of black android oil across his face. The giant hadn’t managed to hit the ground in time, but he’d dodged to the side before the missile struck. He spat out some of the oil that had touched his lips, grimaced in disgust, let out a roar that cut through the wailing alarm, and, like a rabid animal, charged at the soldiers.

  Simon, however, didn’t watch the epic battle that the rampaging brute was unleashing. He could only hear the blows, the gunfire, and the screams. Something far more important had caught his attention.

  The hatch. The hatch behind them—the one the Eddanian woman had ordered them to guard…

  His heart pounded, and the euphoria that had exhilarated him moments ago vanished, leaving a lump in his throat and a trembling in his legs.

  The missile impact had knocked the two metal panels of the hatch off their hinges. They now lay dented, smoking, and useless on the ground.

  And then, he saw them.

  In the corridor beyond the now-destroyed door stood the elegant Eddanian woman, next to a Cyclops android clad in a tattered, wet, and distinctly purple trench coat with its sleeves rolled up. It was an old A60-R8 model, one of those with a big oval eye that looked like a giant egg.

  The automaton had its arms extended, while the woman delicately inserted something that looked like a spark plug into its bicep. Beneath the pale silicone musculature of the Cyclops’ arm, between the exposed circuits, Simon noticed a faint pinkish glow. It reminded him of the distinctive shimmer of the Fluo-Pink.

  Then, as if they had just noticed his presence, both the Eddanian and the A60 turned toward him. He couldn’t help but note how their matching color schemes seemed almost coordinated—until that massive red eye focused squarely on him, wiping away the foolish grin that had been forming on his face.

  Simon froze, gripped by the overwhelming feeling that he had stumbled upon something he was never meant to see. And now, the only fitting punishment for such a mistake would be death.

  But they ignored him—like he didn’t exist. The missile explosion was nothing more than a momentary disruption as the woman continued working on the android’s arm.

  “I thought your kind lived for their rituals,” the Cyclops said to her.

  The Cyclops’ voice was as robotic as any other, yet Simon detected a hint of sarcasm in its tone. This one seemed far more human than the others of its kind.

  “Ah, religious ceremonies!” she replied. “Today’s generations don’t care for them anymore. They’re only interested in eating the fruit, not in knowing who planted the tree.”

  Religious ceremonies? Rituals? What the hell were they talking about? Was this woman part of some cult tied to religious terrorism or something? Simon knew that most people in the Edda Peninsula made their living from mining, but there were also rumors about fanatical zealots who conducted sinister rites to gain their supposed powers.

  The woman finished what she was doing, and the android tested its arm, flexing it and moving its fingers.

  “Done. You should be able to cross the dome now,” she said, and only then did she finally turn her piercing gaze on Simon.

  Simon Pesha felt like her eyes burned straight into his soul. His body refused to move. His legs were frozen, his breath caught in his chest, and his heart felt like it was about to explode.

  “I brought this one along because he’ll be our anchor,” the woman said, and though she was referring to him, she kept talking to the android. “This miserable fool is an acquaintance of the Binary-R.”

  Binary-R? Who the hell was that? Simon didn’t know anyone by that name!

  The woman took Simon by the face and sliced his lip with her sharp nail. She moistened the tip of her finger with the blood that welled up, brought it to her lips, and tasted it as if she were searching for a particular flavor in it.

  “His connection to the Binary isn’t particularly strong,” she said. “But he holds a deep grudge against someone very close to him: the Troublemaker girl. He’ll work to establish a link between them.” She licked her finger again, as if trying to detect a hidden flavor, and smiled. “Well… I told you, the Binary-R is nearby.”

  “How close?” asked the A60.

  “It’s hard to say. Your brother left the environment severely overcharged.”

  The android adjusted the sleeves of its trench coat.

  “All right, woman. Keep this one and the giant anchored to him just in case. Make sure neither strays far; we’ve had enough delays.”

  As if she were a proud owner praising her pet’s tricks, the woman gave Simon a gentle pat on the cheek.

  “Like dogs tied to the same leash,” she said, her eyes smiling. “Where one goes, the rest will follow.”

  Simon listened to their exchange, completely lost as to what they were talking about. But moments later, everything he saw and heard began to blur into a chaotic swirl of images and sounds, more like a dream than an actual experience. It was eerily similar to how he felt when he drank too much.

  Except that drinking too much didn’t usually make his nose bleed—like it did now.