The next day, just past midday, we left the shed behind. The wind had picked up since morning—dry and restless—sweeping through the fields with the sound of something always moving, just out of sight.

  We stayed off the main roads. Azuria insisted. Too easy to get spotted by drones, too easy to ping something we couldn’t see. April walked with me, quiet most of the time, but every now and then she'd glance around like she was trying to listen to something I couldn’t hear.

  By the time we reached the edge of the next town, the sun was bearing down hard and low, the sky bleached to a dusty gold. That’s when we found it: a car yard, half-forgotten behind a chain-link fence, weeds curling up through cracked concrete.

  Azuria crouched beside a rusted out truck near the fence and looked it over. “Most of these are junk,” she said, eyes scanning the rows. “But there’s always a few gems. Especially in towns like this.”

  We slipped through a hole in the fence where the wire had bent open from years of storm winds. Inside, the yard was cluttered with old pickups, faded sedans, and one or two newer vehicles parked near a small shack that looked like an office.

  Azuria pointed toward a charcoal-gray hatchback near the middle—dusty, but in good shape. “That one.”

  “Looks locked,” I muttered.

  She rolled her eyes. “That’s the easy part.”

  I kept lookout while she knelt beside the driver’s side door, pulled a cable from her satchel, and slipped it into the panel gap beneath the handle. A spark. A soft click. The door popped open like it had never been locked at all.

  “I’m starting to think you’ve done this before,” I said.

  She shot me a glance. “Well I have downloaded nearly the entirety of the internet itself.”

  Inside, she checked the console. “Key fob’s missing. Figures.” She pried open a panel beneath the dash and started splicing wires with a tiny multitool. April peered over her shoulder, fascinated.

  A few tense minutes passed. Then the car made a soft chime.

  Azuria grinned. “There we go.”

  The engine rumbled to life a second later, smoother than I expected for a car that looked like it hadn’t moved in years. We slid in quickly—April in the back, silent as ever, but her eyes alert—and Azuria pulled out onto the old road with practiced calm.

  “We’ll follow the rural routes,” she said, scanning the cracked GPS on the dash. “Mourba’s two hours out if we don’t hit patrols.”

  “And if we do?”

  She glanced at me, her face still but her voice firm.

  “Then we make them regret it.”

  The landscape rolled by in long, slow waves of field and scrub. I watched the horizon, wondering what Mourba would bring. More running? More hiding? Or something worse?

  April reached forward and squeezed my shoulder gently.

  Not alone, she seemed to say.

  And for now…

  That had to be enough.

  It wasn’t even forty minutes in when we saw it.

  A blockade.

  We caught it early enough, still cresting a hill along a backroad that curved around a wide, dry basin. Azuria spotted it first: two military-grade SUVs parked diagonally across the road, drones lazily orbiting overhead like vultures. Too clean to be local enforcement. This was Veridia Military… or worse—AzuriaCorp-backed units.

  She killed the lights and coasted the car behind a thicket of dead brush. We ducked low as the hum of one of the drones passed overhead, low enough that I could hear the oscillating whirr of its lenses adjusting.

  “Looks like a checkpoint,” she whispered, adjusting her android eyes to zoom in.

  “They’re not just searching traffic… they’re scanning.”

  “Scanning for what?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

  “People like us.”

  April pressed her forehead to the back window. “That’s not Artebot tech. That’s Veridia stuff. Military-grade bioscanners.” She glanced back at me. “They equip them with scent recognition. If they have a profile from when you were with Byte Haven…”

  I swallowed. “We’re not getting through there, are we?”

  Azuria was already shaking her head. “Not in this car. Not with you inside. Or myself for that matter. We need a detour.”

  She scanned the map again, fingers tracing worn paths. Then she tapped one.

  “There’s an old railway service road about 3 kilometers east. It was shut down years ago, but it loops under the checkpoint—there’s a tunnel, maybe wide enough to get a car through if it hasn’t caved.”

  “And if it has caved?”

  She didn’t answer. Didn’t need to.

  We backed the car up slowly, keeping to the sides of the road until we found a break in the fence where overgrowth had taken over. From there, we pushed through a maze of dry terrain, navigating toward the coordinates Azuria locked into a backup GPS module she’d jury-rigged to avoid trackers.

  Eventually we found it—

  The mouth of the tunnel loomed ahead, almost hidden by vines and collapsed rock. Graffiti ghosted across the crumbling arch, too faded to read. The air coming out of it was damp and cold, a contrast to the dry heat outside.

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  April stared into it, her voice almost dreamy. “Feels like a memory.”

  I looked at her. “What do you mean?”

  She blinked, as if shaking it off. “Nothing. Just… familiar.”

  Azuria popped the car into low gear and crept forward. The tunnel swallowed us, shadows rolling in like a tide. I held my breath as the roof dipped dangerously low—but we cleared it.

  For the next several minutes, we drove in near-silence, the tires crunching over old gravel and broken ties. Lights flickered on Azuria’s makeshift screen. Then—

  A spark.

  From ahead. A brief shimmer.

  Something alive.

  Azuria slowed the car. “You saw that, right?”

  April leaned forward. “Yeah. There’s something in here with us.”

  And just like that—

  The power in the car flickered and died. Everything shut off. Engine. Lights. GPS.

  Darkness.

  Total.

  Unnatural.

  Azuria activated her night vision to see through the darkness more clearly.

  “Something’s jamming us,” she said.

  April stared forward, her hand unconsciously drifting to mine.

  I listened.

  No wind. No echoes. Just…

  footsteps.

  Slow. Heavy. Getting closer.

  Azuria popped the door. “Out.”

  We obeyed, quiet, the two of us slipping out into the black tunnel. Azuria lit up her eyes to act as a flashlight for Oskar. It flicked once, twice, and finally caught it.

  Something human-shaped.

  Metal under skin.

  White eyes.

  And then it spoke.

  “Tren. Azuria.”

  Its voice was a crackle of wires and memory.

  “You’ve gone far enough.”

  Azuria raised her weapon.

  And I realized, this wasn’t a drone.

  It wasn’t Artebot.

  This was something new.

  Something built just for me.

  Azuria’s grip tightened on her weapon, her stance steady, but I could see the shift in her eyes—calculating. She knew something I didn’t, but there wasn’t time for explanations.

  The figure before us was human, but not in the way I understood humans. It stood still, like a machine trying to mimic life, its silhouette barely discernible in the dim light. The faint hum of mechanical parts vibrated in the air, and I could hear the whirr of its internal systems just beneath its skin. The eyes—cold, white, unblinking—stared straight through us, locking onto me with an unsettling precision.

  "Who are you?" Azuria’s voice was sharp, challenging.

  The figure didn’t respond immediately. Instead, it cocked its head slightly, almost curiously, before its mouth opened in a smooth, mechanical motion. “You’ve been causing quite a bit of trouble, Oskar Tren.”

  I tensed. The name felt wrong coming from its lips, as if it had no understanding of it, no real attachment to it. Just data. Cold, calculated data.

  “I didn’t ask for this,” I muttered under my breath, the frustration bubbling inside me. “None of this was my choice.”

  The figure tilted its head again, almost as if considering my words. It took a slow, deliberate step forward. "I’m not here for you," it said, voice steady but flat. “You’re just an obstacle.”

  Azuria raised her weapon, but I stepped in front of her, instinctively. "Wait. What do you mean—'obstacle'?" I asked, my voice shaky. My heart was racing, a cocktail of fear and confusion swirling in my chest. "Who orders you?"

  The figure didn’t answer directly. Instead, it let out a soft mechanical hum, almost like a sigh. “You’re in the way of something bigger. I’ve been hired to bring her in.”

  “Her?” Azuria’s eyes narrowed, her jaw tightening.

  The figure’s gaze shifted to her, then back to me. “Azuria. She’s gone rogue. A valuable asset to AzuriaCorp, but she chose to defy orders. I’m here to make sure she doesn’t cause any more problems.”

  Before I could react, the bounty hunter’s hand moved in a flash, drawing a gun from the side of his body. I saw the muzzle flare, the sharp crack of the gunshot echoing in the open space between us.

  The bullet tore through the air, catching Azuria off guard for a split second. The shot grazed her arm, a superficial wound that barely scratched the surface of her synthetic skin. But it wasn’t the pain that had her frozen for a moment—it was the suddenness of the attack, the realization of what had just happened.

  Without hesitation, Azuria’s eyes narrowed, her reflexes quick as lightning. She pulled her own weapon in a fluid motion, firing back before the sound of the bounty hunter’s shot had even fully faded.

  The bullet hit him square in the head, and his body crumpled to the ground with a sickening thud.

  Azuria stood there for a moment, her breath shallow as the weight of the action hit her. I could see it in her eyes—there was no going back from this. The emotions she had always tried to suppress were rushing to the surface now. Even though she was an android, she still felt the weight of killing another living being, something she had never done before. The rush of adrenaline, the realization that she had taken a life, all collided within her. She was still processing, even if she didn't show it outwardly.

  She blinked a few times, focusing on the dead man before her. “It was self-defense,” she murmured quietly, almost as if she needed to remind herself.

  I could barely speak. The whole exchange had happened so fast, and now we were left in the silence of the aftermath, the only sound being the wind and the soft hum of the car in the distance. The fear that had once gripped me now twisted into something else—something darker. We’d just made an enemy out of AzuriaCorp for good.

  But there was no time to dwell. Azuria quickly turned, her movements sharp, and nodded for me to follow. I didn’t hesitate. We both moved quickly, slipping into the car, the engine rumbling to life. As she sped down the road, I felt the weight of what had just happened.

  The bounty hunter was dead, but Azuria knew this wouldn’t be the last time someone came for us. We were marked now, both of us.

  "That wasn’t going to be the last of them," Azuria said, her voice steady, but I could hear the undercurrent of something darker beneath the surface.

  "No," I replied, staring out at the road ahead. "We have to be careful."

  Carlo Ventresca stood at the head of the sprawling conference table, the skyline of Veridia City framed behind him through towering windows. The early afternoon sun cast sharp reflections off the glass buildings, a gleaming reminder of the empire they were protecting — and the threats they would crush.

  Seated around him were the top executives of AzuriaCorp, Artebot Industries, and two high-ranking generals of the Veridia Military. Every eye in the room was locked on Carlo, waiting.

  He let the silence stretch before finally speaking, his voice smooth, firm.

  "Oskar Tren and the android Azuria continue to evade capture. The bounty hunter we deployed has been confirmed dead. This has escalated beyond a simple retrieval," Carlo said, his gaze cutting through the room.

  Murmurs followed, but none challenged him.

  He turned toward General Voren, his tone sharpening. "The longer she remains free, the greater the risk she exposes our former projects — and by extension, all of us."

  Voren nodded grimly. "You’ll have your support. Veridia’s military is authorizing limited covert operations under our watch. Contain the mess quietly."

  "In exchange," Carlo continued, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, "the Veridia Military will receive first deployment rights for our next project."

  He tapped a small console, and the room's main screen flickered to life — a cold schematic of advanced android soldiers, their armor plated in reinforced alloys, their systems streamlined for one purpose: domination.

  The words "Titanium Army" blinked at the top of the schematic.

  "No more distractions like Azuria's generation. No personalities, no emotional emulation. Pure efficiency," Carlo said. "Our Titanium Army will serve as Veridia’s shield — and its sword."

  Across the table, Lira Mycek of Artebot leaned in, a glint in her eye. "Artebot will supply eight of our new Hunter-Class drones to support the sweep through Mourba and beyond," she said. "They’ll ensure Tren and Azuria have nowhere left to hide."

  "Good," Carlo said simply.

  He brought up a detailed map, red markers highlighting Mourba’s outskirts and its surrounding routes.

  "They're moving south, likely aiming to lose themselves in Mourba's outer zones. We'll set up checkpoints at every arterial road and mobilize drone patrols in the less populated regions. Full saturation."

  "And when they’re found?" one executive asked quietly.

  Carlo's eyes narrowed. "Azuria is to be captured and brought back to AzuriaCorp headquarters. No harm unless she resists.” He paused before adding, "As for Oskar Tren—he’s to be captured alive and handed over to the authorities. He is too dangerous to leave unchecked."

  There were no objections.

  Carlo turned his back to the table, staring out across the sprawling cityscape again.

  They had been patient. Now, the net was tightening. The Titanium Army would be their future — and there was no room in it for defectors or sympathizers.

  Behind him, the leaders rose, leaving the room one by one to carry out the plan.