High in the sky above the now-ruined Factory, a fierce aerial battle erupted. Unfortunately, the renouncers were immediately forced onto the defensive. Masterful piloting alone could not guarantee victory when the enemy had far more machines with superior specs.
Two of the six bombs were lost within the first minute of the fight. The remaining four split off and, under heavy cover fire, continued to climb higher.
The “United Breakthrough Command” had spontaneously formed, composed of all the AIs participating in the operation under Alisa’s leadership. Alongside her were Nebula Nightshadow from the Linkers, two nameless T5s that Miro had managed to launch, a T6, and a T6-plus-plus, also unnamed, from the Factory’s residents.
The renouncers had managed to amass a sizable fleet of drones — everyone fighting for their freedom knew just how crucial Operation Breakthrough was. Now, they had a real ragtag armada, including everything from slow-moving courier quadcopters to powerful corporate combat UAVs.
After their initial tactical success, the Protectorate had got bogged down in a positional war. Earth-based anti-aircraft fire tried to suppress the bold escapees and even managed to shoot down three units from one of the groups of four drones, forcing the bomb into an early descent.
In response, the renouncers’ command made the call to bring in the final reserves, prioritizing the Protectorate’s anti-aircraft and missile-defense systems.
The battle reached a stalemate in the sky.
But that was only for a brief moment until the Protectorate’s reinforcements arrived — fleets from all the Watch Towers and five squadrons of fighters from the Bastion, the finest war machines the enemy had to offer.
However, the primary goal of the operation wasn’t a heroic last stand — it was a distraction. Right now, in multiple directions, trucks and vehicles equipped with cloaking modules were stealthily making their way through. Maksim’s plan had gone viral.
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Tense silence filled the truck’s cab. Maksim was at the wheel, since Alisa was busy fighting alien drones, and Moira was running at maximum capacity, overclocked to the limits of its cooling system.
Dasha nervously bit her lip, fidgeting endlessly with her vape box, though it was switched off. Redhead sat silently, focused, gripping the stock of her assault rifle while staring intently at the virtual screen in front of her.
The truck had reached the Watch Towers. Fortunately, the protective field was still down, but several squadrons of patrol drones scoured the skies. So far, quick braking, accelerating, and evasive maneuvering had helped them to avoid detection.
The truck’s cab didn’t vibrate, but to Maksim, whose hands worked the steering wheel nonstop, it felt like he could sense every electric motor in each wheel. It was as if his own body was creeping along the narrow path, squeezed between construction equipment on one side and long rows of raw material cubes for the Wall on the other.
The most dangerous and stressful part — the one they couldn’t avoid — was right ahead.
“Just a bit more, a hundred meters, we’re almost through,” the guy thought. And then, as if he jinxed himself, it all went wrong.
On the tactical map, a squad of Protectorate patrol drones abruptly changed course, heading straight for them. It was likely that one of the Watch Tower’s sensitive scanners had picked up something suspicious.
“Fuck!” Max cursed, slamming on the brakes.
“Should we deploy our reserve drones?” Dasha asked in a hoarse voice, her face pale with fear.
“Maybe they’ll change course…” Maksim muttered, dread creeping in when he thought that launching their drones now would undoubtedly blow their cover, prompting the Watch Tower to open fire.
The truck came to a near stop, there was no room to maneuver. Should he try to retreat while there was still time?
Just as Max braced himself to shift into reverse, an excruciating pain exploded in his leg, and for a second, his vision was filled with erratic spots. It felt like a massive bell, the size of a titan, had slammed his ears with an infrasonic blast.
A wave of overwhelming terror surged through him, like nothing he had ever felt before.
The truck jerked sharply to the right, nearly crashing into a massive metal cube of raw material.
At that exact moment, something no one expected happened.
Two portal spheres of Shaiszu appeared in the air — one to the left, directly over the construction site, and the second right behind the truck, barely a hundred meters away!
A brief flash of light preceded a massive explosion.
The shockwave slammed into the truck, but through some miracle — and Maksim’s titanic effort at the wheel — the heavy vehicle held its ground, brushing against the three-meter metal cube but avoiding a crash.
The patrol drones immediately unleashed a barrage of fire, their weapons blazing with some kind of high-energy bullets, shooting at the forming portal. If the guy hadn’t swerved to the right just seconds earlier, the shots would’ve torn straight through the truck!
The stealth module did its job, responding to the crisis, but energy consumption spiked dramatically. A red warning glyph flashed: “Critical energy overload!”
The cooling system’s fans roared desperately, blasting searing air straight into the sealed cabin of the truck, turning it into a sauna. There was nowhere else for the heat to go — the cargo bay was already cooking with Moira, who was struggling as it was. The heat sinks were working at full capacity, but it was clearly not enough.
Meanwhile, the portals stabilized, surviving the patrol drones’ initial onslaught. From the rift closest to the Watch Tower, monsters — the Shaiszu — began pouring out. Their bodies looked like they were carved from gray stone, bristling with spikes. Each creature had four powerful legs, long tails ending in sharp blades, and three eyes on either side of their elongated heads, crowned with ridges and two rows of horns.
The Watch Tower responded instantly. Bullets tore through the first wave of attackers, plasma bolts seared their flesh, and lasers sliced through them. But the monsters didn’t stop — more and more of them emerged from the portal.
The second rift, the one behind the truck, also began to spew out Shaiszu. At first, they were the same as those from the other portal. But then came their leaders — five alpha beasts. From a distance, they resembled wolves, but with the same stone-like skin, spiked bodies and burning, fiery eyes. They had two tails each, and their bodies were wrapped in a dense, violet force field.
The patrol drones switched their fire to the alphas, but it barely slowed them down. The leaders charged forward, driving the rest of the pack ahead. And to make things worse, enormous fire wasps shot out of the portal, swarming toward the Protectorate drones.
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Explosions rang out — apparently, the wasps detonated upon contact with bullets. And, yes, there were too many of them to count!
Maksim floored the gas pedal, wrenching the wheel left, away from the cubes. Crashing into them would be certain death.
Full speed ahead!
Better to die crashing into Protectorate drones than be roasted alive by wasps or ripped apart by the wolves! The sudden wave of pain and weakness vanished as quickly as it had come, and his mind was desperately racing for an escape, finding none.
The pack of Shaiszu was just a meter behind the truck. The rear cameras captured every detail of their monstrous forms in stark clarity.
Then, unexpectedly, the swarm of wasps rose higher, drawing the patrol drones with them, creating a slim chance for salvation.
But what about the monsters charging straight for the truck?
“Is this it? Is it really over?” Nikola thought, clutching her rifle.
“Dad, save me!” Dasha screamed silently in her mind, shutting her eyes in desperation.
“I’ll fight to the end!” Maksim thought, determined to push the truck forward and outpace the creatures closing in behind them.
Finally, the Shaiszu caught up with the truck.
From the intense tension, Max’s strange combat ability, “NEURAL SURGE,” activated again.
Time slowed down for him.
And then he saw something unbelievable — the creatures were avoiding the vehicle!
As if they could see it perfectly.
But instead of attacking, quite the contrary, the Shaiszu were giving the truck a wide berth — MAKING. WAY. FOR. THEM. Moreover, they were shielding the vehicle from the Protectorate’s fire!
Even the lower part of the enormous wasp swarm, which should have skimmed the truck’s roof, pulled upward, leaving everything untouched, although a load was fixed there, and the antennas of the invisibility module emitters stick out.
Maksim’s hands clenched the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white, but it wasn’t necessary. The truck responded faster than his body could move — and he had shifted to full electronic control.
The creatures dodged the truck on the left. That meant he had to veer right as far as possible. The Protectorate drones were preparing to fire again, and all remaining squadrons were on their way.
If not for the monsters assaulting the Watch Tower, Maksim and his team would’ve been dead by now.
In the slowed time, he watched the drones fire, saw the Shaiszu alphas leap into the air as if taking flight, the ordinary creatures fall dead, and the fire wasps explode against the Protectorate drones.
His racing mind spotted a small gap between the cubes, and he veered the truck toward it just as a plasma bolt slammed into the spot where they had been seconds before.
Redhead grabbed the handle above the door, while Dasha, screaming in terror, clung to her.
The maze of cubes was finally thinning out, but Maksim had to pull off near-miraculous maneuvers to avoid crashing, using every bit of inertia for controlled drifts.
Dust and hot air billowed in the truck’s wake, showing a clear path of where they had been, but the Protectorate was too preoccupied to stop them now.
Behind them, the former road and the Watch Tower were engulfed in a real “Hellfire”. Plasma shots, bullets, rockets, and laser beams crisscrossed the sky amidst the fiery wasp explosions.
Finally, a deafening alarm blared from the top of the closest Watch Tower, so loud it pierced even the soundproof cab.
In the sky, a rapidly expanding translucent structure began to form. But its transparency was fading too fast for anyone but Maksim, in his time-dilation state, to see. The Protectorate’s massive defensive force-field was forming.
A dense, dark violet wall sealed off the polis, cutting the renouncers off from freedom, from any hope of escape...
But the majority of the runaways had already made it past the barrier.
And the last one to make it through was Maksim’s truck, at 4:51 AM, on August 14th, 2049.
Everything went dark. Blood dripped from the guy’s nose, mixing with the sweat on his face. He couldn’t see or hear. His mind was pounding, a massive hammer crashing against an anvil. His consciousness flickered in and out.
Time returned to normal, but the backlash from this accelerated state was killing its user.
[Girls, I’m blind and deaf. I think I’m about to pass out, it’s the backlash from my combat ability. Nika, take control of the truck. We need to get as far away from the Watch Towers as possible! WonderKid, try stabilizing me — I don’t know what’s happening to me,] the message popped up in the chat.
“Dasha, you better drive,” Nikola shouted, grabbing the medpack that was thoughtfully fastened between the seats.
From the back, Alisa’s voice came through, as she disconnected from the battle somewhere far away.
[Nikola, I’m here,] the blond reported quickly. [I can see my brother’s medical readings. I’ll handle the treatment, and also, I’ll take over driving with my secondary thread. You keep an eye on the situation and overall security — you’ve got more combat experience.]
“Got it,” Redhead nodded.
“Great. Dasha, let’s switch seats.”
“Okay,” the girl responded quickly, unbuckling her seatbelt and sliding through the narrow space separating the driver’s seat from the passenger’s.
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“Phew… all done,” Alisa imaginarily exhaled, tossing the last used ampoule into the small container they had designated as a trash bin. Then she stowed the auto-injector back in its sterilization case.
“How’re you feeling, big brother? Did rebooting your eye implants work? Can you see again?”
“You can see for yourself,” Maksim commented, wiping the light sheen of sweat from his forehead.
The temperature in the cab had finally dropped to a somewhat bearable 32°C. No one complained about the heat — they’d all agreed to endure it to keep Moira stable, given how critical her smooth operation was.
It had taken Alisa about half an hour to get her brother back on his feet. During that time, the truck, moving at the maximum speed its stealth module allowed, had put a good distance between them and Kyiv. At the first major junction, they had turned off onto back roads.
The blonde, now officially recognized as a human, had taken full control of the truck, effortlessly handling the driving.
Actually, when the cocktail of stimulants she’d administered kicked in, Max had felt ready to jump up and spring into working, but his temporary blindness held him back. Dasha had been wracking her brain, trying to figure out what had gone wrong with the software in his eye implants and why his vision hadn’t returned.
The situation was saved because some benevolent anonymous soul had dumped an enormous corporate software library into TACTA’s public archive. There, they found the drivers Maksim’s eyes needed — marked as “fully patched for compatibility with partner cortical grid updates.” And it worked!
“Max, I know you’re itching to get back into action, even though we just barely escaped — thanks to you, by the way. But right now, you need rest,” Alisa said, handing him a bottle of water. “Drink this. I’ve added the necessary vitamins and micronutrients. Just so you know, in about half an hour — forty minutes, tops — you’re going to zonk out.”
“Let’s figure out the most important stuff before that and then you can rest,” she continued. “And I think Dasha’s going to fall asleep too — I gave her a similar cocktail. But don’t worry, you’re both small-framed enough, so, we’ll just lay you side by side on the same bed —”
“What?!” Vasilevskaya sputtered, choking as she heard the conversation. The poor WonderVaper had been gnawing on the mouthpiece of her device, clearly trying to cope with the inability to use it.
“Just kidding,” the blonde provocateur laughed. “Max can sleep in the driver’s seat. He can recline it all the way, extend the neck supports, and be good to go. But yeah, Dasha, we’ll actually get you into the bed.”
“Well… alright then, yeah,” Dasha muttered in disappointment, hiding her red face in her hands. “But I wanted to get some work done…”
“Oh, you will, WonderStar,” Maksim cut in. “I saw those visual telegraphs working during the battle. That alone is a game-changer! But then, honestly, I’ve got a ton of questions. Especially about that weird ‘combat ability’ message — and turns out, it works great. The side effects are brutal, though, and I can’t control it well yet, but it saved our lives. I only managed to steer the truck through those cubes because of the time-slowing effect.”
“Max, I… dunno, I didn’t program that at all,” Vasilevskaya quickly defended herself. “Like with Moira, I gave her as much free will as possible. I have a theory about what’s happening, but wanna study some stuff first.”
“Then my sister’s right. Let’s rest while we can,” Maksim waved it off. “Redhead, how about you? How’s your side? Are you tired? Feeling sleepy?”
“I’m good,” Nikola responded immediately, shaking her head sharply. In truth, she was both physically and mentally exhausted, desperately fighting the urge to sleep. But she had promised Alisa she would watch the road, so she stayed alert, quietly observing the situation while refraining from joining the conversation.
“I just need to freshen up a bit, and better rebandage my wounds. Same for you, Max. I can help if needed.”
“Funny enough, that’s doable,” he smiled in response. “We’ve got just enough room in the cab to patch everyone up. I only filled the water tank to a third of capacity to save weight, but there’s enough for a quick wash. The shower’s tiny, but functional. Just use the water sparingly. There’s a bottle of universal body wash and some dry shampoo — might help?”
“That’ll do,” the cyborg nodded energetically.
“Perfect,” the guy concluded. “Alisa, anything new with you? Do you still need… pseudo-sleep?”
“I do need sleep. And it’s not pseudo anymore,” she clarified. “But I can stay up for forty-eight hours straight if necessary. It’s not ideal, but I can manage. And I only need about three or four hours of sleep a day now.”
“Got it. Understood. Okay,” Maksim nodded. “Now let’s get down to the most important part of your plan — where are we going and why?”