"Proceed to Brossin," ordered Movock, his voice cold and commanding, echoing through the main cabin of the mothership.
After reducing the city of Mobreti to nothing but scorched rubble, Legion 3 of Protem Bexxton now shifted direction. Their next destination: the Brossin gold mines—a hidden region deep within the Sakhen Mountains, where Earth's riches were forcefully extracted from the world's very core.
There, Bosger 090, head of mining operations, was struggling to maintain control. His metallic face tightened as he barked orders at his troops. "Every slave must work to their limit. The target must be met. Orders from Protem Bexxton Central are non-negotiable."
"Yes, sir!" the robotic guards replied in unison, their eyes glowing a menacing blood-red.
Giant green tubes—GreenLife Pods—were being opened one by one. Thousands of humans spilled out from the shimmering synthetic fluid, their bodies pale, eyes vacant. They were no longer fully human, but living machines—programmed through microchips embedded in their spines. There was no will. Only commands.
But not all the pods had been opened. Some humans—those coded 300200 to 300400—had yet to receive new chips. Their old sensors were damaged, severing connection to the central system. Bosger 090 stared at the floating digital report before him, then clenched his jaw.
"Useless trash," he hissed. "What good are they if they can't be controlled? Destroy them all."
"Sir, protocol only permits termination if their operational lifespan exceeds five years," one of the operator bots replied. "However, due to impact incidents and signal failures, many of their chips are unstable. Malfunctions are common."
Bosger grunted. Despite being located in an extreme zone that pierced the Earth's crust, the Brossin mines remained active. Hidden within the danger lay vast reserves of gold and rare metals—the very backbone of Protem Bexxton's robotics and industrial systems.
Suddenly, the alarm blared. An urgent message arrived from the watchtower.
"Sir, the main forces of Protem Bexxton are approaching the mining sector."
"What?! Without warning?" Bosger 090 froze momentarily, then gave a bitter smile. "Good... if they bring pressure, they'll also bring more slaves."
Minutes later, the skies above Brossin thundered with the roar of engines. The massive Protem Bexxton mothership descended, shaking the ground beneath. From its belly, Movock emerged with unwavering authority, followed by thousands of armed troops—and a fresh supply of human labor.
Bosger 090 quickly bowed. "Lord Movock, we've prepared a place of honor for your arrival—"
"I did not come for honor or pleasantries," Movock cut in coldly. "Deploy your forces. I want all available gold transferred to the mothership. Now."
"Of course, sir. However... we've not yet reached the target. We're still one metric ton short of the full fifty-five," Bosger reported, bowing his head in fear.
"What?!" Movock's voice boomed. "It's been six weeks and you still haven't reached it?! In two days, I'll be scouring the rest of the Sakhen Mountains. My men have brought two thousand new slaves. If the target isn't met by then... you'll be replaced."
"Yes, sir," Bosger replied, swallowing his terror.
Among the new slaves was one who was unlike the rest. A man named Charles, coded 400101. His chip had malfunctioned—but the central system hadn't detected it. He pretended to obey, worked like the others. But there was one thing no one at the mine knew—Charles was fully conscious.
Before arriving at Brossin, during the fall of Mobreti, Charles had secretly dropped a small, black capsule-shaped device—called Lore.
Lore was more than a tracker. It was a secret relic, stolen by Charles from a Protem Bexxton research facility while he was still in quarantine. The device now emitted a hidden GPS signal, broadcasting one simple truth: Charles was still alive.
Elsewhere, deep inside a hidden underground base, Lore's signal was intercepted.
"What is this thing?" asked Zoldic, staring at the blinking device handed to him by one of the robots scavenging the wreckage of Mobreti's night market.
Zereka's eyes widened. "That… that's a tool created by Mr. Blorry, ten years ago. It can't be…"
"Why not?" Zoldic asked.
"That tracker was given only to the last surviving human fighters. The internal components bear the name Charles. The holders of these devices played vital roles in the effort to reclaim the human era. Charles… is Mr. Blorry's son."
Zoldic froze. "So Charles is alive?"
Lekox 127, the tech specialist who had been with them all along, stepped forward to inspect the device. "Yes… this is Lore. I saw the prototype once. Give me a moment."
A few taps, wires, and connections later, a holographic screen lit up. A 3D map flickered into the air. At its center, a blinking dot pulsed—Charles's location.
"He's in the Sakhen Mountains," said Lekox. "Specifically... the Brossin mine."
Zereka stood tall. "We're going there. Now."
"But he's already a slave," Lekox said. "That means he's trapped."
"No. Charles knows exactly what he's doing. He dropped Lore in Mobreti—the only place where free humans might still pass."
"And now Mobreti is destroyed," added Zoldic, his voice low. "No one else will ever return."
"We," Zoldic said, his voice heavy, resonating through the metallic chamber, "though encased in robotic forms, our minds are still human. Never forget that."
Ekox 127 remained silent. Zoldic's words hit deep, leaving behind a silence thick with meaning.
"Then... did Charles know you were here?" he asked, suspicion in his voice.
"He knew," Zereka replied flatly. "He dropped Lore in Mobreti on purpose—because it was the one place where there was still a sliver of hope that someone human might find it."
Lekox 127 added, "Those humans came like rats—sneaking in, stealing whatever they could from Mobreti. They weren't saviors. They were scavengers. But now that Mobreti's been destroyed, they won't dare come close again."
"So Charles took a risk," said Zereka, her gaze sharp. "A desperate hope that someone would find the Lore—and especially if he knew Zoldic was here, being hunted by Protem Bexxton."
"In that case," Zoldic replied quickly, "it's time we act."
"Exactly. With Charles, we might be able to dismantle the enemy's system… maybe even bring you back in time," Zereka said, glancing toward Zoldic.
"Am I coming with you?" asked Lekox 127, a hint of hesitation in his voice.
"If you're willing, of course. But I need you here more—to protect the Lore, and to track Charles' location."
They began crafting their plan. One objective: to divert Protem Bexxton's attention, while Zereka infiltrated the Brossin Mine.
Zoldic stood before the battered remains of the old robots who had survived Mobreti's fall. His eyes burned with resolve, his voice echoed with purpose:
"For years, Mobreti was a dumping ground. You were the abandoned ones. But you rose. You built this city from nothing, breathed life into it with your own strength. Then they came… and destroyed it."
The robots listened in silence. A few, their eyes gleaming faintly, were moved. Among them stood Kortez 089 and his squad—now looking to Zoldic as a beacon in the ruins.
Lekox 127 stepped forward and projected a three-dimensional map. A wide expanse of the Gorki Peninsula lit up in the air.
"This peninsula includes the Sakhen Mountains. At its edge lies the Brossin Gold Mine. Long ago, before they had air carriers, they transported minerals by land. That route… runs through this tunnel."
Kortez 089 interjected, "And what's that got to do with us?"
Zoldic answered with just two words: "Revenge."
A murmur rippled through the robots. Doubts surfaced.
"How do we fight them? They're armed with killing tech. We're nothing but scrap with a pulse!"
"We'll fight… like the ancients did," Zoldic said flatly.
Silence. Confusion.
Zereka let out a quiet laugh and stepped forward. "Listen... they think we're extinct. We'll use that. We'll strike and vanish. Hit and disappear. Guerrilla tactics."
"Wouldn't it be safer to stay hidden?" asked one of the robots.
"If we win, we take the Brossin Mine. The tunnel route becomes ours. The Sakhen Mountains hold more than just gold. Maybe… a new energy source. A new home."
The mood shifted. Whispers of excitement began to rise.
"Then how do we even get inside the mine?"
"I'll infiltrate," Zereka said. "All you have to do is create a diversion. Leave the guards to me."
A large robot laughed. "Little missy, if not for Zoldic, we would've scrapped you and drained your power by now."
Zereka's eyes narrowed as she stepped forward. "I need no one's protection. Three of you—come at me. Let's see how well the Admantium Gen-X operation worked on my body. The best prototype."
"What?! You mocking me?" barked the massive robot—Kox 567, a combat unit armed with a split-destroyer cannon.
He charged. His explosive round struck Zereka's leg. Her body was torn apart.
But within seconds, it reformed—seamlessly. As if the blast had been nothing more than a trick of light.
"The Gen-X system absorbs the impact. Not a defense… an adaptive response," whispered Lekox to a stunned Zoldic.
Zereka leapt and delivered a precise blow. Kox 567 crumbled, nearly lifeless.
The room fell silent.
"Two more. Who's next?" Zereka asked coldly.
No one answered. No one stepped forward.
The strategy meeting continued. Now, no one dared doubt her.
"You'll intercept the Protem Bexxton forces at the northern base of the Sakhen Mountains, ten kilometers from here," said Zereka. "The cliffs and narrow passages will be our allies. Zoldic and I will lure them out. Once they're distracted, I'll slip into the mine and breach the main system."
Nods spread through the room. Doubt faded. A fire took its place.
The fire of resistance had been lit.