A thousand shards of glass from the window collided mid-flight. For a split second, everything stopped—the store fell into a suffocating silence as if the air had been vacuumed out of the room. Every breath, every rustle, every heartbeat seemed to vanish, swallowed by the sudden, overwhelming stillness.
Lazaro reacted instantly, the crash barely registered in his ears, yet he was already jumping from his seat, hitting the floor. His body flattened as he crawled swiftly across the ground. Within seconds, he disappeared behind the shelves.
The shock hit Jude like a tidal wave, a cold weight crashing down and rooting him in place for a split second. His heart pounded in his ears, too loud in the sudden waving silence. Without thinking, he bolted from the entrance, feet pounding the floor as he sprinted toward Lucy. With a burst of speed, he leapt over the table where she sat. He grabbed her mid-jump, pulling her down to the floor in one fluid motion, his arm curling around her small body. They hit the ground hard, Jude shielding her beneath the fallen table, using it as a barrier between them and the shards of glass that rained down like a deadly hailstorm.
“Stay down. Stay quiet,” he breathed. She nodded, eyes wide, fear etched deep into her face.
Delila’s hands shook as she dropped to the floor, feeling the sting of glass brushing her arms. Instinct overrode fear, and she quickly crawled along the ground, ignoring the sharp jabs of debris beneath her. Her body stayed low as she reached the nearby shelf, flattening herself against the cold floor. She clung to the metal frame, accidentally knocking over a few cans that rolled away with dull clinks. Eyes wide, pale with fear, she found Lazaro across from her. “Laz?”
Lazaro’s jaw tightened; his gaze locked on the broken window. "Stay quiet, Lila!"
“My power… I’m blocking everyone,” she whispered, voice barely audible, her panic rising as she realised none of them would be able to use their abilities. “I can’t control it. I’m freaked out.”
“No shit,” Lazaro muttered under his breath, frustration flashing in his eyes.
Patrick had ducked beneath a table, his usual calm crushed. The clipboard he’d thrown earlier now lay abandoned, forgotten on the floor beside him. He couldn’t shake the irony.
Through the fractured glass, a figure appeared—alien and mechanical. The sunlight flickered, casting a monstrous silhouette into the room. The machine crept forward, metallic limbs clicking against the floor like claws scraping stone. It moved with upsetting automation. Its body was slick and gleaming, four spindly legs extending outward, balancing a head that resembled a landmark scanner, blinking with cold, calculating light.
The machine inched forward, scanning the room like a predator seeking prey. Jude tightened his grip on Lucy’s arm, holding her close as the machine filtered through the store, its metallic head swivelling left to right with a steady, haunting whirr.
The scanner stopped. Its long, spidery legs retracted as it focused on Delila. The scanner head shifted downward, a beam of light shot from its eye, and a holographic scan flickered across her body while she held her breath. The machine beeped once—a clean, calm tone.
"Congratulations, you have reached Level 65; you have unlocked A-K7."
It skittered forward, its next target: Lucy. Jude’s stomach twisted. He could feel Lucy trembling against him, her small hand gripping his shirt. The scanner paused over her, the same mechanical sound whirring through the room. The machine’s head tilted slightly—a clean, calm tone chimed. It released a bright green, congratulatory tone, followed by a projection that read:
Congratulations, you have reached Level 13; you have unlocked A-J9.
Jude exhaled, but his relief was short-lived.
The scanner’s next target was Patrick. The spider-like machine clicked forward. Patrick stood still, jaw clenched, eyes flickering with dread. The scanner stopped, lowering its head in a slow, deliberate arc as if savouring the moment. The light pulsed. Red. The machine froze, emitting a shrill, warning tone that shattered the fragile quiet.
The holographic text flashed again, but this time, it wasn’t congratulatory.
“Trojan detected. Unauthorised access to the SiC. Prepare extraction of unauthorized Mind-Sculpt.”
Jude’s heart raced. Patrick’s face drained of colour, his hands shaking as the machine’s beam locked onto him.
Jude felt the booming ticking clock in his chest, every second a countdown to his inevitable exit from the simulation. Yet, if he had little to no time left, there was nothing to lose. So, better make it count. With reckless abandon, he acted on pure instinct. His eyes darted around the store. Without hesitation, he climbed the nearest shelf, his fingers gripping the metal tightly as he scrambled up.
Launching himself from the top, he crashed onto a nearby table, the wood creaking beneath his weight, but he didn’t stop. Jude pushed off, propelling his body through the air, aiming straight at the machine.
He collided with it, his full weight slamming into its cold, hard surface. He moved his body to cut its balance, bit the bot was set to stone on the ground. His hands clawed desperately at the red visor on its head, fingers scrambling for a hold. His breath was ragged, heart pounding as he punched at the visor, hoping to shatter it, to stop it from scanning the others. But it was like hitting a wall—it only hurt his knuckles.
The machine finally reacted and bucked beneath him, jerking violently, throwing his grip off. Jude’s fingers slipped, nails scraping uselessly against the smooth metal. The machine finally got rid of him, and Jude was airborne again before crashing to the ground with a hard thud, the taste of dust filling his mouth. He didn’t know why he thought about it at that moment, but Patrick could have done a better job at keeping the floor clean.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
"Laz!" Jude called. “Smash it!” Jude pointed to anything that looked remotely heavy.
Lazaro emerged from his hiding spot. “We don’t have any power!”
“Dude, use anything!” Jude shouted, holding firm. “Use a fucking pickle jar! I don’t know!”
Lazaro clenched his fists, searching the floor for anything that might help. He grabbed a nearby chair and sprinted toward the machine. But without his enhanced ability, the swing of his punch lacked power, the impact barely denting the steel frame. The machine didn’t even flinch, but the chair shattered into pieces.
“Fuck, should have picked the pickle jar.” Laz howled.
The machine, its insect-like legs skittering across the floor, suddenly shifted to stand on just two legs. Jude rolled on the dirty floor to avoid being pieced by the machine's legs. He gasped, the wind knocking from his lungs, but his eyes darted to the machine as it turned.
One of its spindly legs shot forward, piercing Patrick's thigh instead. It regained complete focus on the store owner, whose scream now tore through the air, his eyes wide in shock and agony as blood gushed from the wound. He was pinned to the floor, the leg of the machine embedded deep in his flesh.
Two small compartments opened on either side of the machine's body. One circular saw attached to an arm, and another with tweezers began to emerge from within, whirring to life with a high-pitched hum that filled the room. The saws inched closer to Patrick’s head, the blade glinting dangerously in the light.
Patrick’s breath came in short, panicked bursts as he struggled to push himself away from the encroaching machine. "Jude, do something!" His words pleading for mercy.
Jude could barely hear him over the pounding in his own chest, but Patrick’s next words hit like a slap. "Please, I can’t die... I haven’t finished making the inventory!" The absurdity of the statement almost made him laugh, but there was no humour in Patrick’s face, only raw, unfiltered fear.
Suddenly, in all this chaos, more came to join. Misery loves company. Jude’s breath caught in his throat as the message blinked in front of him, glowing red ominously in his vision.
Mission Timeout: Do you want to abandon this SiC? You may not be able to re-obtain access in the future without special authorisation—Leave SiC or Stay?
59 seconds.
The countdown ticked in the corner of his vision. 58...57...
He was frozen, his body pressed against the cold floor, his thoughts running wild. One word, and he could escape. One word, and he’d be back home, back with Marta. A world that, despite everything, was part of him. One word and he would meet his son.
But one word would mean leaving Lazaro, Patrick—Lucy—to face whatever twisted fate awaited them. The machine’s saws buzzed louder, creeping so close toward Patrick’s skull.
52...51...
"Jude, come on, man! Any fucking idea? Delila?" Lazaro yelled, struggling to find anything to stop the machine. Jude's hands twitched, but still, he couldn’t move.
His gaze flicked to Lucy, who was crouched behind the table. Her wide eyes watched him with hope, fear, and undeniable trust. She believed in him. Could he let her down? She was also alone here. She didn’t know where her pod was and who would take care of her.
43...42...
Len. Len’s name surfaced in his mind, the person whose power seemed to tether the SiC together. No one could reach her—Paris guarded her like a hound. But what if there was a way? What if Paris's fortress wasn’t as invincible as he made all believe? What if waking Len was the key?
Jude’s thoughts raced. He wasn’t a hero. He wasn’t even sure what he was doing half the time. But there was one undeniable fact—he was here. And now, when every second was slipping away, he couldn’t abandon them. Not like this. But he wanted to.
30...29... What would Marta think of him? Would she be ashamed of him, or would she feel abandoned in her most vulnerable state?
He bit down hard, his teeth grinding as he made his decision. The word wouldn’t come, no matter how much he wanted to say it. His chest tightened, but he forced himself to stand. Forced himself to act.
Jude looked over at Patrick, who was whimpering in pain, his thigh gushing blood. Lazaro’s eyes flickered with panic, helplessly watching.
Jude squared his shoulders still on the nasty floor, his voice barely steady as he muttered, “Abel?”
18… 17…
“Abel!”
A brief pause, and then the AI's voice slithered, oozing sarcasm. “Oh, you’re still there? Thought you packed your shit and bailed. Hiding from your wife, pretty boy? Changing diapers too much for you? All men are the same. Another kid without a daddy, wah-wah. So sad, so sad”
Jude’s hands tightened into fists, knuckles white. His heart raced, his vision swimming as the words "Leave SiC or No?" pulsed in the corner of his eyes, mocking him.
16… 15…
"If I give you 20 tokens, will you do as I say?" He tried to steady his voice, but it came out sharper than he intended.
“What’s the request?” Abel sounded uninterested and bored, as if it was just another lazy afternoon.
“Yes, or no? Yes, you win 20. No, you die. You’ll run out of tokens, and you'll die. Wah-wah.” Jude spat through gritted teeth, trying to block out the overwhelming chaos. “And I’ll ask Barbara instead.”
“Don’t offend me, you fucking bag of saggy flesh!” Abel snapped. There was a brief pause. “Yes.” The AI finally conceded. “What’s the request?”
“Send a message.”
“What’s the message?”
“Bot in A6, calling Len. Make it loud!”
“Request processing.” Abel’s voice flattened, turning mechanical, utterly indifferent.
Jude’s heart thudded in his chest as he kicked the machine over and over again, his foot slamming against the cold metal. The bot jerked, its leg inches from Patrick’s head, its sensors trying to centralise its scanner on Patrick’s head, whatever it intended to do.
Then, as loud as it be, the air filled with a hollow, monotone voice.
"Attention. This is your emergency broadcast system. Message to Saint Helena Troy. Identify Bot CMOS Processor. Logs: Mobility malfunction, driver outdated 2197. Location A6. Repeat, Location A6."
The words echoed, unsettling in their robotic calmness as if mocking the chaos around them. Jude’s breath caught, his gaze locked on the bot as it twitched, momentarily confused. Moving, stand stopping, moving, rotating on itself. It felt lost, and overlayed of the whole scenery, Jude saw his countdown.
8… 7…
The moment Len's name was uttered, the machine faltered, its movements becoming erratic as if the mere mention of her had thrown it off balance. It jerked towards Jude, its sensors zeroing in on him with cold, mechanical precision. Jude's heart pounded, bracing himself for the inevitable—he knew the bot’s next move. It was ready to pierce his gut. But before it could strike, Delila, in surprise, launched herself from the shadows, tackling the machine with all her strength.
And then—they vanished. The bot. Delila. Gone without a trace.
4… 3…
Jude staggered back, his breath caught in his throat. "Where did they go?"
But before he could make sense of it, they reappeared. Delila and the machine blinked back into existence, only for them to disappear again and then reappear. A relentless, dizzying rodeo of in-and-out flickers, each time with Delila clinging to the bot, her grip weakening with each pass, her face contorted in effort. She was buying them time, holding on with everything she had.
2… 1…
The sound of a car door slamming in the distance cut through the chaos like a gunshot in the silence.
Mission Time Extended: access authorised—Time until next expiration date: indeterminate. Thank you for your service and dedication to Planet Earth.