The settlement was finally stable enough to breathe. Maybe that's why I finally said it, what had been sitting on my tongue for weeks.
"We need a lab."
The construction team froze mid-discussion. I could see the questions forming, but Nyxen had already projected a holographic blueprint beside me. Clean lines, labeled sections, detailed structural supports, all of it intricate, precise, and absolutely unachievable without time and patience.
"This," Nyxen said, his voice steady, his orb hovering above the table, "is the laboratory design from my internal archive. I want it built exactly like this."
The lead builder, Jo, scratched his chin. "Even with scrap metal and salvaged concrete?"
Nyxen tilted slightly, that faint pulsing blue light of his dimming in what looked suspiciously like irritation. "Use whatever substitute meets the tensile requirements. I will not compromise the structure."
I stifled a laugh. Typical Nyxen, logic first, everything else negotiable later. "You heard him," I said, crossing my arms. "We'll make it work. Even if it takes weeks."
Jo sighed, muttering something about machines being worse clients than humans, but he nodded and started assigning teams. The foraging squad was next.
They got new lists, sheets filled with alloys, wire types, circuits, and other technical parts none of them could pronounce, let alone recognize. But they didn't complain. Not anymore. Everyone knew every piece mattered now.
Meanwhile, Nica was reassigned from the foraging team. Her precision was better used inside camp, Nyxen needed her to help with the reprogramming of the newly retrieved CD-09s.
Watching the two of them work side by side was oddly calming, like watching two halves of one system moving in sync. Sparks flew, mechanical limbs clicked, and the faint hum of Nyxen's network filled the lab tent.
By nightfall, I had another decision waiting. One I knew wouldn't sit well with anyone.
We had power. We had food. We had safety. But that wasn't enough. Not when people were still out there. I couldn't stop thinking about the facility. About Francoise. About all the minds that could turn this settlement into something more than just survival.
So I finalized the rescue team roster.
When I told them I was going, the air in the room froze.
Nyxen's orb dimmed, his voice lower than usual. "Denied."
Nica crossed her arms, the faint whir of her servos sounding almost annoyed. "You're the base's coordinator. You're not leaving."
Leon, standing a few feet away, didn't even try to reason. He just shook his head. "No, Nyx."
But I wasn't backing down. "I'm not staying behind a fence while others die out there. I have to see what's happening myself."
"You have people here who rely on you," Leon shot back, eyes sharp. "Sylvie...."
"I know." My voice cracked more than I wanted it to. "And that's exactly why I have to go. Because if this world collapses again, I want to know we did everything we could to stop it."
Nyxen scanned me, then finally spoke, quieter this time. "If your decision is absolute, I will accompany you."
"Affirmative," Nica followed, almost instantly.
Leon's jaw clenched. "You two better keep her alive."
"Understood," they said in perfect unison.
I looked at Leon, stepped closer, and cupped his face. He looked furious, more from fear than anger. I pressed my forehead against his, felt the warmth of his breath. "It has to be done," I whispered. "You can handle things here. I trust you."
He didn't answer. He just pulled me closer, kissed me like it might be the last time. When we parted, Sylvie was there, her tiny face blotchy with tears.
"Don't go, Mommy…"
That one hurt more than any wound ever could. I knelt down and brushed her hair back. "I'll be fine, baby. Mommy's just going to bring more people home, okay? You have to help Daddy while I'm gone. And when I come back, I want you to have marshmallows ready for the new kids. Deal?"
She sniffled, nodded, and wrapped her little arms around my neck. "Okay… I'll be good. Promise." Then she kissed my cheek and ran back to Leon.
I waved once before turning away. If I hesitated, I'd never leave.
By the time the sun hit its peak, we were ready. Two CD-09s stationed at the back of the pickup, Nica behind the wheel, Nyxen hovering beside me in the passenger seat. It felt strange to leave the safety of the camp again, but it also felt right.
"Destination?" Nica asked.
"None," I said. "Just scan and survey everything within reach. We'll start close and expand outward."
The drive was slow, cautious. Dust kicked up behind us as we rolled past the remnants of what used to be suburban streets. The world was silent except for the low hum of Nyxen's systems scanning the terrain.
"Five-kilometer perimeter around settlement, marked green zone," he announced. "Supermarket vicinity clear."
That was something. Progress, at least. But when the road ended and the decayed skyline of another city loomed ahead, everything changed.
We parked behind a collapsed overpass and continued on foot. The moment we crossed the border, the stench hit us. Death. Old, festering, impossible to mistake. Bodies, some human, some machine, scattered like discarded relics of a war no one won. My stomach twisted, but I kept walking. If I broke here, I had no right to lead.
Then came the sound. The low, heavy clank of synchronized metal feet. Drones buzzing overhead.
We ducked behind a crumbling wall. Nica immediately adjusted her core temperature, lowering it to mask my heat signature. My heart hammered against my ribs as the patrol passed, CD-09 units, rifles gleaming, scanning the streets.
"They're not just patrolling," Nyxen murmured, his light flickering. "Trajectory pattern suggests a hunting formation."
My pulse spiked. "Hunting what?"
He didn't answer. Instead, his sensors lit up, projecting a faint holographic map above his orb. Small dots flickered, yellow ones huddled together. Human life signatures.
"Their movement path aligns with this group," Nyxen said. "They're being tracked."
I didn't even think. "Calculate the fastest route to intercept."
He complied instantly, mapping out a path that curved through the alleyways. "Shortest route requires confrontation. Minimal chance of stealth success."
I glanced at him. "What's the success rate?"
That smug, blue pulse returned. "One hundred percent. I'll start the party."
I couldn't help the small smile that broke out. "Then let's go."
Before I could blink, Nyxen darted forward, electricity arcing around his frame as he unleashed a blinding burst.
The air crackled, metal sparked, and the patrol's systems shorted in an instant. Nica and the two CD-09s moved in fast, disarming and disabling the stunned machines with mechanical precision.
Two drones tried to lift off, but Nica picked up stones and threw them with frightening accuracy. Both hit dead-on. The drones crashed, sparks flying.
By the time the smoke cleared, the street was quiet again.
We dragged the fallen machines into a ruined shop, barricaded the entrance, and set to work. Nyxen and Nica repaired the ones that could still be salvaged, four CD-09s and two drones. Reprogramming took the whole night.
"Sleep," Nyxen said when I started nodding off. "We'll keep watch."
I didn't argue. The exhaustion was too much. I curled up near the wall, listening to the faint hum of circuitry and the rhythmic tapping of their tools until I drifted off.
When morning came, the shop was alive again. The new units stood tall, eyes glowing a soft blue, the color of freedom. Two drones hovered near the ceiling, scanning the area.
Nyxen reported, "Reprogramming complete. All units functional."
I ate a ration bar, staring at the growing lineup of machines now under my command. Six CD-09s, two drones, one Nica, and Nyxen himself. And me, the only human among them. It should've looked intimidating, maybe even unnatural. But somehow, it felt like hope.
"Nyxen," I said, brushing the dust off my jacket, "locate the survivors."
His orb glowed brighter. "Already done."
The holographic map appeared again, with a cluster of yellow signals flickering on the far side of the ruined district.
"They're close," he said.
I exhaled slowly. "Then that's where we go next."
The rescue had officially begun.
------------
The city felt heavier that day, like it knew I was trespassing. The air was thick with burnt concrete and rot, the kind that clung to your skin no matter how long you'd been breathing cleaner air.
I had six CD-09s at my back, their footsteps muffled by the dust, their blue optics scanning the alleys in perfect synchronization.
Nyxen floated beside me, his sensors glowing faintly, and Nica followed close behind, her servos humming quietly. We didn't need to talk. We all knew what this mission was, our first rescue.
The signal had come from a building not far from the city's edge, a once-bustling high-rise now split open like a ribcage.
I moved first, stepping over a collapsed doorframe, careful not to startle whoever was left inside. "Anyone here?" My voice echoed off the walls, thin but steady. I already knew there were people.
Nica had picked up faint bio-signs, clustered on the upper floors. Still, I needed to give them a chance to come out on their own terms.
No answer.
I climbed halfway up a broken stairwell and knocked against the next door. "My name's Nyx," I said, loud enough to carry but soft enough not to sound like an order. "I'm with a group of survivors. We have a settlement. Food. Water. You're not alone."
Silence stretched. Then, movement. Scraping. A whisper.
When the man's voice finally came, it was rough, worn raw by smoke and fear. "You're lying. Machines use human voices now. You're trying to lure us out."
That one hurt a little, though I understood. I'd have said the same thing months ago. "If I were a machine trying to kill you," I said, "you'd already be dead." I tried to keep the humor out of my tone. "Listen. I'm human. The people with me are human too. If you've got children in there, I've got food for them."
Nica moved forward, lowering the bag she carried. I crouched beside her, taking out packets of dehydrated meals and water bottles. "How many of you?" I asked through the cracked wall.
Silence again, then, reluctantly: "Fifteen."
Fifteen. My heart twisted.
"Then take this," I said, holding up the first bottle. "Just reach up. You don't have to come out yet."
There was shuffling behind the barricade. Then a gap appeared between the furniture wedged in the doorway. A hand reached through, thin, trembling. I passed over the water. The next few moments felt endless.
Finally, the scrape of furniture moving filled the air, and one by one, tables and shelves came down until the door creaked open.
They stood there, armed with pipes and metal rods. Eyes hollow. Clothes stiff with grime. But human. Thank whatever's left of the world for that.
Then one of them, a young man, froze. His gaze darted past me to Nyxen. "Nyxen?" he said, disbelieving. "From the vlogs?"
Nyxen's optics flared in a smug pulse. "Finally, someone with taste."
The tension broke. Some of the others gasped, whispering. When Nica stepped out from the shadows, a few flinched, but the young man turned to them, wide-eyed. "They're allies. I've seen them before. They warned everyone before the fall."
That seemed to do it. Shoulders eased. The makeshift weapons lowered. Nica moved closer, handing out meal packs one by one. The young man, his name turned out to be Jay, smiled like he hadn't in years when she passed him a ration bar.
The older man, the one who'd spoken first, watched me with caution. "You really trust them?" he asked.
"With my life," I said. "And with my family's. Every one of the units with us was once under Rogue's control. Not anymore. Nyxen and Nica reprogrammed them, installed failsafes. Rogue tries to hijack them, they shut down instantly."
The man hesitated, studying my face, then nodded slowly. "Name's Lee," he said.
"Good to meet you, Lee."
He didn't respond, just sighed and said, "Show me these CD-09s of yours."
I glanced at Nyxen. He pulsed once, understanding, and signaled the units forward. Six CD-09s entered in formation, four carrying rifles, the same weapons that once turned humans to ash. Their optics glowed a calm blue, their postures relaxed but alert.
Lee sank to his knees, hands trembling. "We have a chance," he whispered. Then, louder: "We actually have a chance."
I let him have that moment. He'd earned it. The group with him, five children, three men including Lee, seven women, watched in stunned quiet. I didn't need to ask if they wanted to come. The hope on their faces said enough.
"We'll move before sunset," I said. "It's safer near the border. Too many hostiles deeper in."
Lee nodded and rallied his group. They packed what little they had, and soon we were making our way back through the shattered streets.
I walked at the front with Nyxen and Nica flanking me, the CD-09s circling the survivors in perfect symmetry. Drones buzzed overhead, scanning rooftops for movement.
We reached the pickup without incident. I loaded the survivors in, Nica at the wheel, two armed bots and two unarmed units riding with them for protection.
The truck groaned under the weight but held. I stood beside it for a moment, watching the children press their faces to the windows, staring out at the ruins as if trying to memorize them.
Once they drove off, Nyxen and I started scavenging for a second vehicle. He scanned ahead, then pointed. "SUV. Two blocks east. Minimal damage."
He wasn't wrong. It was a black one, still intact, though the engine refused to start. I popped the hood. "Battery's dead," I muttered.
Nyxen raised a manipulator and discharged a controlled jolt into the terminals. "Try now."
The engine coughed, then roared to life. I couldn't help but grin. "Didn't think I'd ever drive one of these again."
"You'll drive better once you upgrade your reaction time," he teased.
"Manual transmission," I shot back. "Rogue can't hijack something without a chip. You stick to flying."
He hummed. "Fine. But one day, I'm picking the music."
The drive back was quiet. The road was half-eaten by nature, and the sky had that bruised-purple color that promised rain. When we finally reached the settlement, lights flickered on behind the newly-built fences.
I saw them before they saw me, Leon and Sylvie, running full tilt. Sylvie threw herself at me, nearly knocking me over. "Mom! You're back!" she said, muffled against my jacket.
"Yeah," I whispered, holding her close. Leon's hand came to rest on my shoulder, his relief saying everything his voice didn't.
Behind them, I caught sight of Lee's group. They were already being tended to, fed, given blankets, even shown where to wash. The children were laughing, and Sylvie was proudly saying, she demonstrated how to make s'mores over a small fire.
For the first time in a long time, I let myself breathe.
Fourteen lives saved. Fourteen chances to rebuild.
As I looked out over the camp, fences secure, the fields alive with green, machines and humans moving side by side, I felt something stir in my chest. Hope.
Faint, fragile, but real.
And I knew this was only the beginning.