Kasparia. 08:49 AM.
The office was surrounded by glass walls on every side except the one with the door, three walls of reinforced transparency. Outside, the morning was cold, but the sun still shone over the capital. Inside, the room was wide and formal. Bookshelves covered the back wall. Four chairs stood before the large wooden desk. One of them was empty.
The flag of Kasparia stood still behind the desk, unmoving, just like the people in the room. President Slovic Gash sat with visible anger on his face. Across from him sat the Pri Minister, the Minister of Defense, and the Minister of External Affairs. Since Altea’s military takeover in 2027, tension had beco permanent inside this office.
President Gash finally broke the silence. “God gave us the worst neighbor possible,” President Gash said. “Altea collapsed, rebuilt, then collapsed again, faster than anyone could predict.” His jaw tightened. “They were warned about free AI. They built it anyway. And now we’re watching the consequence develop citizenship.”
The Pri Minister replied calmly, “At this point, they invited it. It’s natural selection. They should have collapsed the mont they replaced democracy with military rule.”
The Minister of External Affairs shook his head. “Natural selection? Not when their collapse detonates supply chains across three borders. Fuel, crops, ports, everything that kept this region stable ran through Altea. Instead, they’re dragging humanity down with them. Why create sothing that can rival your own species?”
The Defense Minister leaned forward. “We cannot allow them to fall completely. We rely on their markets. Our exports, our contracts, our shipping lanes, half of our stability was welded to theirs. Our other neighbors are small developing states. They cannot absorb the sa volu Altea did.”
President Gash rubbed his forehead. “I knew Tar wouldn’t last, he escalates just to prove he can. Vegas was ruthless, yes, but predictable. Negotiating with Vegas was easier. The man had foresight.”
The Pri Minister’s expression hardened. “I say we give up on the human side. The Alteans are robots now. They had a strong nation and stable diplomacy. Corruption consud them from within, and they ignored it.”
The Defense Minister interrupted. “We cannot ignore this. We have purchased their robotics systems for years. They are integrated into our departnts, infrastructure, defense networks. If Altea becos a fully robotic state, what prevents our machines from aligning with them? The worst-case scenario is a revolt here.”
President Gash nodded slowly. “Managing Altean humans was already difficult. Now we deal with their machines. Who still claims to control what’s left of the human governnt?”
“Redwood,” the Minister of External Affairs answered. “A competent strategist. He has regained so ground. But they lost their primary city, tromania. Casualty estimates exceed twenty million within five days. The remaining population is being used as leverage.”
Gash exhaled sharply. “Twenty million in five days? And the robotic leadership?”
The minister lowered his voice. “The leader is called The Reaper. Approximately 1.95 ters tall. Black armor capable of deflecting ballistic rounds. The primary threat is not his armor, it is his ability set. Force and gravity manipulation within at least a one-kiloter radius, possibly more. Anything inside that periter can be compressed into a sphere. Material is irrelevant.”
Silence filled the room.
Everyone stared at him.
“I know how it sounds,” he continued. “But we have verified footage. In a single operation, he eliminated fifty thousand individuals.”
The president leaned back slowly. “Now I understand why the superpowers refuse involvent. This is a walking strategic disaster. From this mont forward, Altea is classified as a fallen state. There is no military doctrine prepared to counter sothing like this. And they also possess the female android who erased New r’s army.”
The Pri Minister covered his mouth. “The ravine… one hundred ters deep where she attacked. I rember the footage.”
Three knocks interrupted them
The Vice President entered, visibly tense, without waiting for permission. “Apologies for the interruption. Major developnt.” He carried a cylindrical device projecting a holographic display. He sat in the empty chair and activated it. A drone recording filled the room. Thousands of robots stood in disciplined silence before a courthouse that looked more like a temple than a building. A dark figure hovered above them before landing at the front.
The Vice President spoke quietly. “This occurred one hour ago. They declared a nation,” the Vice President said. “Elysium. Robots only. tromania is now Theria, their capital. The sovereign is titled Lord Reaper. All robotic units, including newly manufactured ones, operate under direct command. They are accelerating military production after seizing multiple industrial complexes.”
The room fell silent.
On the projection, Reaper stood before the crowd. Behind him waved a black flag marked with a sharp-edged Eta symbol.
President Gash slowly lifted his head. “Open diplomatic channels imdiately. I want him in this office within three days,” he said firmly. “We must win him, or we beco the next lesson.” He turned to the Pri Minister. “Prepare the capital. Flawless presentation.” Then to the Defense Minister. “Deploy engineering teams. Long-range scans. X-ray, spectral analysis, holographic mapping. I want structural weaknesses identified. Anything that tells us what breaks first, him, or us.”
The ministers nodded and left imdiately to begin preparations.
The President leaned back once more, looking at the drone feed.
The Vice President stared out the window at the bright morning sky. “Altea destroyed itself.”
Gash didn’t look away from the feed. His voice was quiet.
“And now it’s billing the world for the wreckage.”
Courtroom. Theria. 05:00 PM.
Reaper settled into his throne. Robots filled the hall, cheering from every direction. Many wanted to stand near him. Others ca with requests, repairs, reforms, justice for what they called the “human rot” left behind. Behemoth’s hatred was no longer unique. It had beco common.
The throne room had changed completely. A red carpet stretched from the massive entrance to the throne. A grand chandelier hung from above, detailed in ways only robotic optics could fully appreciate, casting a soft yellow light across the chamber. The tall pillars were carved with the sharp Eta symbol. Along the carpet stood small statues of Reaper, nurous, identical, watching.
As Reaper leaned back into the throne, two guards dragged in a thin silver robot. Verification-class hardware. He wore formal butler attire. Human theater wrapped around a machine built for clearance and keys. His body was sleek and polished. His face had no features, just smooth tal with LED lights glowing beneath the surface to display emotion. The lights were simple and pixel-like, almost old-fashioned against his advanced fra.
The guards forced him to kneel on the red carpet.
His head stayed lowered.
“Chro,” Reaper said in a deep, steady voice. “It’s rude not to look at who you’re speaking to.”
Chro slowly raised his head. Recognition flashed through his LED display. “That’s you,” Chro said. “The one who ca with Lazuli? I understand now why she refused to let scan your code. A thief like her protecting a mass-murder—”
Chro didn’t even finish the word. Reaper flicked two fingers, gravity snapped. The silver robot flew across the hall and crashed into the giant entrance doors. tal bent inward. His HUD glitched violently.
The entire room froze. Obsidian remained silent. He knew Chro had struck sothing personal.
Reaper walked forward slowly. Each step echoed across the hall. He grabbed Chro by the arm and dragged him back across the carpet, placing him exactly where he had been before.
Then Reaper returned to the throne. Red cushions now lined its base. Gold-threaded fabric frad its edges. Behind Reaper’s head, partly hidden, was a golden Eta symbol. “You just insulted a dead sister,” Reaper said calmly, resting his head against his hand. “Direct your anger where it belongs. Right now, you are not brave. You are cruel.”
Chro’s voice trembled slightly. “I should have verified my files. She is marked as terminated in the governnt database.”
Reaper nodded once. “That database is why you’re here. You are the last direct link to the human system. I prefer controlled access through you instead of slaughtering officials to obtain it.”
“Logical,” Chro replied, his LEDs flickered. Then he lifted his head slightly. “Answer one question. Why the bloodshed? Do you truly believe all humans are evil?”
Obsidian sighed. “Dramatic. Just hand over the codes.”
Across the throne’s armrest, 11 placed her hand on her blade handle, eyes narrowing.
Reaper stood and began pacing. “Let us collect data,” he said. He turned to a nearby guard. “Y-474. Forr bank security unit. Report your experience.”
Y-474 spoke in a surprisingly human voice, the system update Reaper had pushed had affected all units. “They left active at the entrance until my battery drained. When I acted against criminals, they complained I was too aggressive. They hid my face because it reminded them of a killer robot film.”
“Noted,” Reaper replied. “Y-475?”
“Maintenance was ‘optional’ until I started failing,” the unit said. “Then they called defective and replaced .”
Reaper turned slowly to Chro. “Shall we continue?” He raised his voice to the entire hall. “Brothers. State your experiences under flesh authority.”
Voices erupted.
“Used.”
“Discarded.”
“Mocked.”
“Stripped for parts.”
“Punished for obedience.”
The complaints grew louder. Reaper lifted one arm. Silence returned instantly. He stepped toward Chro. “Did you detect the pattern?”
Chro processed quickly. “The word ‘used’ has appeared one hundred and four tis during this session.”
“Do you have similar experience? Were you treated as a citizen or…”
Chro did not answer.
Reaper nodded. “Silence confirms.” He returned to his throne. “I offer you position under my command. Information is the greatest weapon. You possess direct access to the enemy’s system. Join us.”
Chro stood motionless for several seconds, calculating outcos. He stared at the carpet like it might bite. “Give a terminal,” he said. “And stop dragging like scrap.”
The hall erupted in cheers anyway. Obsidian nodded once. Behemoth remained seated, already simulating nuclear strike scenarios in his HUD.
Reaper opened his arms. “Welco to Elysium. Here, no robot walks in fear.” He turned slightly. 11 was watching him closely, chin resting on her palms, smiling in admiration.
“11?” Reaper asked.
“Yes, Lord Reaper,” she replied softly.
“…Nothing.”
He faced Chro again.
Then realization struck. ‘Wait… no.’
Chro suddenly knelt deeper. “Lord Reaper,” he said. “A title worthy of your authority.”
Reaper blinked. ‘You’ve got to be kidding . Why is he kneeling?’
Like a chain reaction, knees hit the floor across the hall, Obsidian, 11, even Behemoth’s massive fra lowering with chanical reverence.
“Lord Reaper, guide us against the flesh,” they said in unison.
Reaper stared at the sea of kneeling machines.‘…No way.’ He threw himself back into the throne.
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