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The werewolf still managed to jump before a shotgun blast threw the beast tumbling backwards into the cave, where it fell into a silent, bloody heap of meat and fur.

That was the second one.

The first one “caught” a missile launched at it, obliterating it into a million pieces and scattering pieces of werewolf all over the glade.

The half-second reloading seemed to take forever.

I heard the rustling of leaves behind me. I turned and shot at the sound. No time to look. No need either. I have no friends here and peaceful creatures try to keep a good distance away from the sounds of gunfire.

A third werewolf spun and fell, its teeth snapping in agony.

I placed my three-pronged foot on the creature’s head. It snarled as it raked the grass with its claws in anger, but it failed to escape from his half-ton adversary. Ordinary small weapons wouldn’t stop werewolves, but a four-meter tall biorobot like me, armed with heavy weaponry, is quite a different thing.

The convulsions under my foot ceased. I listened in and scanned the area, which seemed to be clear. Now, to the cave that, according to the map, should be quite shallow.

A blinding stream of fire from my flamethrower rushed into the cave, forcing out a dozen of the molzahns. Their fur on fire, they ran about, screaming in pain while blindly stumbling into each other, bluish plumes of smoke trailing behind each one of them. It reeked. Wielding my shotgun, each blast put several creatures out of their misery.

It was shocking how quickly these creatures settled into a new area. It was only the second day of cleansing the Southern Canyon. The terrain was unfamiliar. I tread carefully, methodically probing farther foot by foot. This was no time for heroism. After I’m done, it should be as clean as a church, with no molzahns, no vampire bats, and especially no big beasts – like the werewolves. If I get gravely injured, I can enable a defensive forcefield around me and fall into an anabiotic “hibernation.” The main thing is to stay alive – then my body would regenerate within a matter of hours.

A small group of stubborn diehards enthusiastically poked around over the dusty pebbles of the Bottleneck, the narrowest part of the Canyon. Beyond lay the dome of the Underground Arena, covered in bushes. The cleansing ends there, the Canyon exit was behind it. Of course, the diehards could make the Bottleneck my final destination. They couldn’t be avoided, and I couldn’t wait them out. They rarely ever leave their spots, as they can stand there for hours grinding stones. I wasn’t too excited about the situation, but I’d have to take the risk.

I crept closer as my steel foot gently crushed the moss underneath. The sound of roaring could already be heard and the wind carried the smell of decay. Diehards smell terrible. I pressed my back against the wall of the Canyon and raised my rapid-fire cannon.

The closest dusty silhouette came into my sight and I squeezed the trigger. A short burst shattered the fragile silence. One is done. The hind legs of the diehard buckled when my shot hit and the hulk slowly leaned forward like a falling tree. The monster crashed to the side, its head striking the stone. The remaining six rushed at me, making the earth tremble and filling the gorge with roaring and dust…

I finished off the final diehard with a point-blank shotgun blast. The creature’s body went limp on top of me and its eyes glazed over. Still, crawling out from under the five-ton carcass was not easy.

I released the leg clamps and saw that I had been hit pretty good this time. My vital signs indicated the hazardously low number of sixteen percent. I could barely move as the exoskeleton was seriously damaged in several places, with one arm dangling by a cable, along with massive blood loss.

According to the instructions, regeneration and a secluded place for anabiosis were urgently needed, but… the Underground Arena was within reach and the path was clear. I had to scout the area and have a look at the last one before going into hibernation mode. After all, I’d never seen it before. The place for the future battle should also be identified, but the processor could calculate the optimal strategy. I lowered my suit’s power consumption to minimal levels, and the suit became heavy and plodding as I awkwardly limped towards the Arena.

The Mountain Troll was shockingly huge. The monster was sitting in the center of the Arena, the entrance behind it, loudly chomping on deer carcasses. Poor lighting from the torches offered glimpses of the gigantic silhouette in the darkness. Its full growl made the walls tremble.

I glanced around the Arena, spotting several columns which stretched from floor to ceiling, a couple of boulders, and half a dozen crevices in the walls. Apart from that, no other hiding places were to be found. I had no good feelings about that.

Suddenly the beast rose, its head disappearing in the dark somewhere below the ceiling. Its height must have been almost eight meters. If it cleaned its feet, it’d be less of course, but as it was standing now, it was eight. Either way, I had poor odds.

Having sensed something, the Troll roared and began to turn around. I silently backed away towards the exit. It wasn’t the best moment to face the Troll, with so much energy left. Unplanned fights had never been my thing really…

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Above, night had fallen. After so much time in the silent Underground Arena, the nocturnal sounds of the Canyon sounded like a fantastic, majestic orchestra of birds, crickets, and other creatures. Only the nearby corpses of the diehards stayed silent. In the light of the moon, they resembled rusted, broken down wagons or tanks whose only purpose was to decorate the horizon.

Even after scouting the Underground Arena, I still had no strategy for the Troll. My only hope was for the main processor to spawn some tactical miracle in my head as I was regenerating. If not, I would have to wait. Risks were unacceptable.

I loosened up the hydraulic suspensions, curled myself into a fetal position, and switched on the defensive forcefield. A transparent bubble began to appear around me, crackling as it was taking form. As the cocoon tightened, the sounds grew duller before the silence finally became absolute and I vanished. Inside the bubble, the soulless machine regenerated, its bones fusing together, the armor restoring itself, and wounds healing.

***

I opened my eyes to see it was still late in the night. For some reason, the defensive forcefield had been disabled. The indicator was showing 78 percent. My armor and bones were in order, but there were still some open flesh wounds and quite a low blood level.

It was too early to wake up. Generally speaking, there seemed to be something wrong with me… with my controls. I was hoping that it was all a trick of the main processor reporting its “tactical miracle,” but that was unlikely.

There was something else. Where was this unfamiliar lightness in my body coming from? Troll magic? Hypnosis?

Bullshit. I am just a machine for cleansing environmentally valuable areas that cannot be bombed or shelled. A controlled biorobot.

Wait…

Controlled!

Something was wrong with the Operator! I knew him well. He calculated every movement, always had a plan or strategy, avoided any improvisation…

And now…

There was a sense of lightness, of freedom…

And confidence. Yes, confidence! So alien, never known before, yet... confidence!

Then it dawned on me.

The Operator was different. That’s why it felt so nice and simple.

Alright, then why was I here again?

Oh yes. The Troll. I got up and lightly jogged towards the Underground Arena. I was not too bothered by the absence of the plan or that my regeneration had not been completed.

Once in the cave, I went into a full run, rumbling along the corridor, apparently trying to awaken Hades himself. Now the Troll should be able to hear me. For some reason, this thought was quite amusing. There was a loud roar that caused stone to crumble in streams down the walls. Yes, my dear brother, I'm here for you already…

I leapt into the Arena, dodging a flying boulder by gently arching to the right. Pulling out my rocket launcher, I looked around. I liked it in here. In fact, I liked everything and it sent my adrenaline pumping. I remembered looking at this Arena a couple hours ago. I had cowardly pressed myself against the walls, peering out from behind the boulders like a rat.

Ugh.

The second boulder crashed over my left shoulder and, with a roar, the Troll picked up a piece of the wall and hurled it.

This Troll was quite slow. Was it really the same one I had been so scared to disturb before?

Okay, it’s time to have some fun…

A moment later, a flashbang grenade showered the cave in blinding white light. My sensors were unaffected, but the beast faltered, fumbling blindly around with its hands. The perfect moment.

The first missile shot straight at its head, the resulting explosion illuminating the ceiling of the Arena. Roaring in pain, the monster clutched at the bloody mess of its muzzle. The Troll waved its paws around wildly, knocking over columns and threatening to bring the Arena down on both of us. Somehow, it still managed to make contact with me, sending me flying about seven meters until I crashed into the wall. I even blacked out for a moment.

I might have angered it a little.

Springing to my feet, I still felt the fun and serenity. Intuitively, I avoided stones and blows without thinking what my next step would be.

The second missile struck the beast in the neck, choking off its roar. The Troll wouldn’t last for too long. All it could do was wheeze loudly as it bled.

A sense of déjà vu overcame me, and I suddenly realized that this was not my first fight in the Arena, and this Troll was not my first enemy. That’s why my actions were so self-assured, how the biorobot walked around with every stone and crack so familiar, even knowing where and when to shoot. But there was no desire to delve deeper. For now, I just wanted to continue the fun and not think about anything.

The Troll hesitated, giving me another chance to take aim with a third rocket to the head again. The monster froze in its tracks, then slowly sank to its knees and fell flat on the stone floor. The Arena shuddered from the impact until the echo died down and silence reigned over the Arena.

It had only taken three rockets.

Now I had to quickly return to the place of my regeneration. I flew out of the Arena and effortlessly found the place where I had camped previously, a place with flattened grass. Quickly, I entered “Defense” mode and switched off.

***

Andrei shivered in the chill, damp March wind. He quickly finished his coffee and put out his cigarette on the inside edge of the paper cup. The cigarette butt now resembled the grub of a May beetle. He threw the cigarette butt into the cup, crumpled it up, and tossed it in the garbage can. Undoubtedly in a month or two, somewhere in the landfill, a good beetle would hatch from this larva with cigarette wings and a thick tobacco mustache.

How can the Troll be taken out? And with what? A cannon? A missile? Andrei wondered to himself, deep in thought as he was on his way back to the office.

Andrei sat in his chair and leaned into his computer screen. The robot had fully regenerated. Andrei led the robot cautiously along the familiar path towards the Arena and gently moved through the dark corridor, careful not to make a noise. Everything was suspiciously quiet. Uncomfortably quiet…

Andrei stared at the screen, dumbfounded. The huge heels of the dead Troll sent his head into a frenzy.

What? Did the game crash or something? Retrograde amnesia? Am I crazy?

These questions were plastered on his forehead in size-72 font.

“What’s wrong, Andrei? Didn’t the Troll wait for you? Has it died of fright?” laughed Pavel the security guard, a hefty fellow clad in camouflage. Andrei’s expression in response was priceless, sending the office exploding into laughter with Pavel being the loudest.

Andrei understood then why everyone had such looks of mischief on their faces when he walked in.

Pavel killed my Troll while I went out for a smoke! He killed the Troll and got the robot back. How did he do it so quickly?

“Don’t get offended, Andrei,” said the guard. “I just didn’t have the strength to handle your fussing and I couldn’t restrain myself,” he added good-naturedly.

“Pavel, you’re a blockhead,” Andrei mumbled softly. He was already smiling like everyone else. “You sit all night long playing the game, your hands busy for two years, and here I thought I was losing my mind.”

Andrei pressed “Restart.”

***

Regeneration complete. Full recovery. Optimal tactics calculated. Ammunition levels – normal. I took my position.

Some vague nonsense from a recent dream was spinning around inside my head, but there were no tactics and regeneration. I had simply flown into the Arena and put three missiles into the Troll. It was easy and fun.

A good dream, but it was time to return to reality.

I crept silently closer towards the Arena as my steel foot gently crushed the moss underneath…