City Main Conference Hall. 09:13 AM.

  The next morning, people did not go out. They stayed inside, watching the nightmare: the Minister of Defense and the country’s unelected president displayed on every screen across the nation. The shock froze everyone. Fear re-entered their hearts. Every bit of hope gathered from the wanted poster was crushed.

  Sebastian Tamer took confident, calculated steps and stood at the lectern, facing the cameras and journalists. The hall was massive, built to hold thousands. The camera flashes did not stop until he raised his hand. Every sound died instantly, as if everyone had held their breath at once.

  Tamer looked directly into the camera and spoke. “Today is another win for our society. A new victory for Altea, and further proof of our competence as a strict, law-enforcing country.”

  He turned to his right, bluntly lying. “Ladies and gentlemen, today I announce the hunting of the last E-UNIT ever created. I declare our country’s victory against these blood-loving creatures that Nick Rivera unleashed while running from the law.”

  He nodded again. The army dragged an old android body across the floor and placed it inside a magnetic display case. It hovered there for everyone to see. It was the old, rusted body of E-UNIT 03.

  Families watching from their homes covered their children’s eyes. Some people turned off their phone screens. Others removed their smart glasses. The sight was unbearable. The body belonged to 03. They had brought it from the bunker beneath Metro Robotics, not for justice, but to kill hope itself.

  “This monster was allowed to roam free for far too long, making our streets unsafe for every soul, human and robot alike,” Tamer continued. “The crimes committed by this unit alone were countless. She was unstable and unwanted by everyone.”

  “Lies!” a journalist shouted.

  “I’m sorry?” Tamer said calmly.

  At his words, soldiers began moving toward the man. It was a signal.

  “I said, lies!” the journalist yelled. “We love all of them! Our best days were when these girls cleaned the streets of criminals and cleaned the government of people like you! That’s why you erased every trace of their existence. You’re afraid to remind the people how good they once had it!”

  Another elderly journalist stood up. “This is E-UNIT 03!” he declared. “We know our heroes when we see them! Your lies will not pass the Alteans!”

  The first journalist turned toward the camera. “My people,” he pleaded, his voice shaking. “I beg you to keep resisting! They can’t imprison us all. They need us to work for them. Let’s show them that the E-UNIT left behind a strong population that knows right from wrong! E-UNIT 03 here—”

  His voice broke. “—would never allow herself to be displayed like this while we suffer. Stand up, Alteans!”

  The soldiers reached him and dragged him away, covering his mouth. Tamer griped the lectern so hard his knuckles whiten; blood began to drip from his palm. His assistant noticed and tried to pull him away from the stage.

  “You do not know what is best for this country,” Tamer said with absolute coldness. “Any attempt to raise a weapon against the government will be met with lethal consequences.” He turned and walked off the stage, blood trailing from his hand.

  Outside the hall, the city stayed silent for three full seconds.

  Then one person began clapping, slow, defiant.

  Someone else joined. A third voice rose, shaking but loud: “E?UNIT.”

  Soldiers tightened their grips on rifles. And the crowd didn’t back away this time.

  It was time to become E-UNITs themselves.

  Metro Robotics Underground Storage. 11:12 AM.

  The sound of metal being dragged echoed through the hallways of the renewed Metro Robotics facility. The soldier was dragging 03’s body along the floor; he had been ordered to restock her with the pile of discarded E-UNITs thrown into the bunker twenty-four years ago.

  There were two men walking through the dusty hallway. It had been so long since anyone had entered this section of the building. The last time something passed through here, it was the Reaper as a prototype. Now, he existed somewhere in the city as a fully functional machine, a living robot with complete capabilities.

  The body was far too heavy to lift properly, and the second soldier was present only to register the return of the asset.

  “It would be great,” the first soldier muttered while dragging 03, “if someone put down the tablet and helped me with this heavy lifting.”

  The second soldier smirked, scrolling lazily through his screen. “Right? That would be great. Except that someone was only ordered to register the entry.”

  The soldier kept dragging, rolling his eyes. “I hate you, Ray. And I hate this job.”

  “Finally,” Ray replied, “we have something in common.”

  “Man, come on! My back is going to break! She’s surprisingly heavy!”

  “You’re too loud,” Ray said, glancing around. “And we’re almost there, Jordan.”

  “Then a little push wouldn’t hurt.”

  “ALRIGHT! Just stop complaining!” Ray bent down and grabbed 03’s right arm while Jordan dragged from the left. “Oh my god… this is so heavy.”

  “Told you. They should’ve sent more soldiers with us.”

  “They can’t,” Ray replied between heavy breaths. “All units are preparing for the clash with the civilians. We rookies are left with the normal tasks. We’re already spread thin.”

  Jordan grunted as he dragged. “Minister Tamer didn’t calculate the outcome properly this time…”

  “I agree,” Ray nodded. “But his mind is on another target, according to the leaks.”

  “What leaks?”

  “The prototype that escaped the laboratory is still free in the city. Our guess is the scientist behind him wants him back.”

  “You mean the Reaper?” Jordan asked. “Rohann, the captain, said they were patrolling at night when suddenly he and his entire team couldn’t move. They saw the black figure of the Reaper pass by casually while they were frozen.”

  “Yep. Reports say he can do even more. Do you remember Wallmore?”

  “Yeah, of course,” Jordan said, his back screaming in protest.

  “His son-in-law is Rohann himself,” Ray continued, his breath cutting short. “He told me the Reaper has far more capabilities than anticipated. Rivera, whatever his name is, put five years of work into perfecting him. He makes time look optional, gravity so violent it steals momentum from everything if powered by a crystal, by increasing and decreasing gravity.”

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  “No freaking way! Why would they build something like that?!”

  Ray dropped to the floor, leaning his back against the wall. “I can’t… let’s rest for a bit.”

  “Agreed,” Jordan said, collapsing beside him.

  “He still needs an insane amount of energy,” Ray continued. “And the crystals required to power him vanished with this Rivera guy.”

  “I see why Tamer is panicking.”

  “He’s never been this stressed before.”

  “He’s never had to fight a time-bending, gravity-controlling free AI outside his control,” Jordan said, staring up at the white ceiling.

  “Exactly. And even these girls here are dangerous. When the army advanced toward New Mer twenty years ago, the city was empty of soldiers. Their president surrendered the country just to spare his own life. When we accessed their archives, we found that Nick had another outstanding robot , one that looks like this unit here… but far more dangerous.”

  “I know her,” Jordan said quietly. “I watched her attack live on TV when I was a kid. Omega erased people and tanks from existence. I’d pay to see a fight between her and the time-bending robot.”

  “You wouldn’t be alive to witness it if that really happened,” Ray laughed.

  Both men laughed weakly, then stood up to finish the task.

  “This is insane,” Jordan muttered. “Why don’t we have a cart?”

  Ray didn’t look up from the tablet. “Because carts don’t stop riots.”

  As Jordan dragged 03 again, he stared at her lifeless face. “I miss the old days. Is it just nostalgia, or were we actually living way better back then?”

  “Both, I guess,” Ray replied. “I still have one of the robot parts that fell from 01 during a fight against a five-headed giant mech. I was on the highway with my family when we saw the girls fighting. My father stopped the car, and we watched until it ended. When it was over, we went to inspect the damage. A laser had evaporated most of 01’s arm, her hand fell onto the wet asphalt. I still remember my mom screaming at me to throw it away. I refused and hid it somewhere safe.”

  “Now I want to see it too,” Jordan said. “Maybe we should turn them back on. We need these girls again.”

  “I tried already,” Ray said. “Their batteries are long gone.”

  They finally reached the bunker and carefully placed 03 on top of the massive pile of dismantled E-UNITs.

  Jordan knelt beside her, looking at her one last time. “We’re waiting for you to come back one day… please.”

  He stood up and slowly closed the bunker door.

  National Television. 10:17 PM.

  “Welcome to the relaunch of your favorite political debate program, Opposite Poles. This is Melinda Kinzi, and today, for the first time in ten years, we are going to have a hot discussion that recently died… and came back to life.”

  Melinda glanced at her tablet, then back at the camera. “We haven’t had a real side opposing the government for a long time. Surprisingly, we were all on the same page with the system for a reason…” She paused. The director gestured urgently at her.

  “Anyway,” she continued, recovering smoothly, “today we have two sides with completely different opinions and ideologies. Two sides that might split public opinion into two for the first time in twenty years.”

  Melinda turned to her right. “On this side, we have an attorney with thirty years of experience in the halls of the justice system. Mr. Reynold Sage. Mr. Sage, welcome to the studio.”

  “Thank you,” Sage replied respectfully. “This is a rare opportunity to represent the people’s voice on public television.”

  Melinda nodded, then turned left. “On my right, we have Silvester Mil, the current head chief of the Metromania Police. Thank you for accepting the invitation on such short notice.”

  Mil nodded once. “You’re welcome, Miss Kinzi. Your personal invitation was more than enough.”

  Kinzi smiled, then faced the camera again. “For those who may not remember, we begin by asking sensitive questions to one guest, allowing the other side to respond or receive a follow-up. Let’s begin with the chief.”

  She scrolled through her tablet. “Mr. Mil, we’ve seen people boiling in the streets. Some have even raised illegal firearms against the police force, and especially against the army. Isn’t that a clear message from the public?”

  Mil answered calmly. “Not at all, Miss Kinzi. Those who raised weapons against the system are individuals seeking personal gain. Being a military state has pushed many criminals to radicalize, using any opportunity to disrupt the peace we’ve built. A stable country with enforced laws makes criminal acts stand out louder, like a stain on a white board.”

  “Well said, Mr. Mil,” Melinda replied. “So, Mr. Sage, what is your opinion on the recent protests? Are these merely individual attacks aimed at destabilizing the country, as your opponent claims?”

  Sage leaned forward. “I completely disagree. What we’re seeing is a collective response to an oppressive system that has, for years, degraded the life of the average citizen. Wages remained stagnant while prices skyrocketed. The economy collapsed multiple times under this government, yet no serious investigations were launched. This leads us to believe that ministers simply followed orders. When a system refuses to improve the lives of its people, the people respond however they can to be heard.”

  Mil interrupted sharply. “Shooting police officers is not a message. It’s a cannibalistic act that deserves harsh punishment. If our defense minister, Tamer, hadn’t acted collectively against those animals, I would personally demand even stricter measures. We do not tolerate violence. If you have complaints, write a letter like a civilized human being.”

  Sage replied without hesitation. “Then ask yourself this. Why would people point guns at their own brothers in uniform if their voices were truly heard? They aren’t. And you keep pretending these attacks are random acts of terror. The people are no longer afraid, Mr. Mil. If the system refuses to respond, then the system itself will be treated as the terrorist.”

  “Any reason,” Mil snapped, “is never enough to shoot another human being. Maybe if it were a robot, we might close our eyes in some cases. But your so-called unheard citizens are killing officers who are simply following orders. Even if your argument holds weight, murdering a random policeman is not how messages are sent.”

  “These officers represent the system,” Sage shot back. “They are the only face of the government the people ever see. Meanwhile, you and the higher-ups hide behind polished desks, flying by helicopter so you never face your own citizens. That is cowardice. When you leave people in misery without solutions, pressure builds until it explodes. Now, they don’t want to be heard anymore. They want this rotten system removed.”

  “Violence will solve nothing,” Mil said firmly. “It will only radicalize the government further, including myself. What we see is not communication, but force. If we accept demands made at gunpoint, everyone will grab a weapon just to be heard. That’s how peace collapses.”

  “That’s exactly the problem,” Sage replied loudly. “They were ignored because they weren’t enough of a problem for you. If they had been treated like human beings, none of this would have happened. And since we’re talking about enforcing authority, when did the people ever vote for military control? The army took power at gunpoint and threatened anyone who tried to take it back!”

  “This topic is out of discussion,” Mil said, standing slightly. “We are here to discuss the animals who threaten street stability—”

  “What stability?” Sage shouted. “The life of the Altean has degraded so badly that poverty now surpasses crime! Alteans were once the richest people on Earth. This country was an economic superpower—”

  “It was led by a clown,” Mil fired back, “who allowed a weak country like New Mer to invade our territory. And how did he respond? By sending little girls to face a military force with glowing toys.”

  Melinda hesitated. The director begged her through the glass to shut Sage down, but her mind refused. Deep inside, she agreed with him.

  “Those girls,” Sage continued, “were the only ones who stopped the New Mer robot swarm after you and Defense Minister Vegas allowed them to advance. You let them march into Altean streets. You let people starve for four days just to seize control of the E-UNIT program.”

  “That’s a serious accusation!” Mil barked. “Our army would never do that. In fact, it was the only force that held this country together when it wasn’t economically strong. And those blue, shiny toys destroyed Metro Robotics, our only mech producer, leaving us defenseless against external threats.”

  “That company nearly drained this country dry through shady deals made by Defense Minister Alexander,” Sage replied. “They sold mechs for profit and took their cut every time. Don’t you see the pattern? Every collapse was led by a defense minister chasing personal gain.”

  “Enough insults against our saviors,” Mil snapped, standing up. “I’m leaving this circus—”

  “Like your father left Metromania without a budget?” Sage smirked.

  Mil froze. Silvester Mil was the son of Fredric Mil, the former mayor of Metromania.

  “What did you just say?”

  Suddenly, screams erupted in the hallways. Armed individuals stormed the building. No shots were fired, but control was immediate. They breached the studio.

  The leader, face and eyes hidden, aimed an assault rifle at Mil. “ON THE GROUND. NOW.”

  Everyone raised their hands. The police chief dropped to the floor, hands behind his back, his face pale. It had been a long time since he’d felt true fear. Since the Reaper entered his office.

  They tied his hands and turned to Kinzi. “We know you, Miss Kinzi. You will not be harmed as long as you keep your distance. We respect your work.”

  The leader faced the camera just before the broadcast was cut. “This is a warning to everyone responsible for our downfall. We know who you are. We know where you are. Now, we decide your fate.”

  Another attacker dragged the chief closer to the camera. “Jail… hospital…”

  Across the city, everyone watching shouted together. They recognized the words.

  “Or straight to hell!”

  Emergency broadcast: No signal.

  "In a world of pre-written limits, one man seeks the Absolute."

  Slow-burn Dark Fantasy | Mystery | Psychological