Chapter 10: The Aftermath

The Ministry of Defense. Henry Vegas’s Office. 08:37 PM.

Henry Vegas, 47 years old and the Senior Military Advisor, sat frozen in his leather chair. His eyes were glued to the screen.

He couldn’t believe it. His superior, the legendary Alexander Robinson—the man who controlled the nation’s firepower—was being dragged away in handcuffs. Live. In 4K resolution.

Henry’s hand shook as he grabbed the remote. Click.

Nothing but a cheerful cooking show on Channel 5. Then, suddenly— BEEP-BEEP! A red banner slashed across the screen: URGENT NEWS.

“Sorry to interrupt, but we have breaking news! The Minister of Defense has been arrested! Charges include corruption, embezzlement, and obstruction of justice!”

The anchor looked pale. “The arrest was carried out by the E-UNIT division during a live debate! These androids have been active for only eighteen days… and they just decapitated the military leadership!”

Click.

Channel 9. “—The charges are solid—”

Click.

Channel 4. “—He is being transferred to a maximum-security holding cell as we speak—”

Click.

“—Eighteen days! Just eighteen days of honest police work and the house of cards is falling! How deep does this rot go?!”

Click.

“—What are we doing? Why are little girls arresting generals?!”

Click.

A debate show. Two men shouting until their veins popped. “Mikael proved the system is broken!” “But who will lead the Western Front?! We are at war!” “Easy! As Mikael said—put the right man in the right place!”

Click. Silence. The screen went black.

Henry leaned back, the silence of the luxurious office pressing in on him. Red carpets, golden frames, books that were never read. He stared at a photo of Alexander on his desk.

He sighed. “Well… I told him not to go.”

Then, a faint smile crept onto his face. He picked up the photo and twisted it in his hands. “Who would’ve thought it’d be this easy, Mikael? Another point for us.”

He whispered to the empty room. “I did my part. Now let your robots finish the job.”

The plan had worked perfectly. He and Mikael had been setting this board up for years. Now, the King was captured. It was time for the endgame.

Outside The National Television. 08:55 PM.

That Night. Nobody in Metromania slept. The internet was melting down. The news stations were running marathons. Three "little girls" had just arrested one of the nation’s most powerful men.

Alexander Robinson was a high-value prisoner. His personal guard—elite soldiers—didn’t even raise their rifles. They handed him over peacefully. It was all planned to take down the king.

A heavy armored transport truck waited outside. The press swarmed it like moths to a flame, flashes blinding the night. Alexander was shoved inside. He wasn't alone. 02, 04, and 05 stepped in after him. CLANG. The heavy doors locked.

The silence inside wasn't human. It was mechanical. Heavy. Suffocating. Alexander stared at the floor, muttering in disbelief. “I can’t believe… I was one of the people who approved this project.”

02 sat opposite him. Her blue eyes were dim, her voice precise and cold. “You wanted it to succeed just enough to steal it for the military. Or fail, so you could replace the General Director with one of your pawns.”

Alexander scoffed, looking up. “They taught you well, metal head.”

04 leaned forward, her face inches from his. “Anyone with a single functioning circuit could see through your plan, old man. You’re not that slick.”

Alexander exhaled sharply, defeated. “Never thought I’d live to see the day when three unstable metal girls with emotional glitches drag me to prison.”

04 grinned—a shark’s grin. “Then believe it, dumbass. These ‘unstable girls’ are about to crush everything you built.”

02 added, her voice dropping an octave. “No regret. No accountability. Maybe your age has clouded your CPU, Minister.” She tilted her head. “If you confess on TV that you’re mentally unfit, I might forgive you.”

Alexander growled. “Never—”

“Sorry,” 02 interrupted. “You already did—by trying to fight us.”

The truck rolled into the darkness. By morning, the Empire of Lies had lost its Emperor.

The Next Morning. The Prime Minister’s Office. 08:10 AM.

The city woke up nervous. Cold air. Kids in scarves. Cars groaning in traffic. 04 and 05 patrolled the streets, waving at citizens like nothing had happened. But everyone knew everything had changed.

Mikael Wilson received a summons. The Prime Minister. A call from the top usually meant a warning shot. Or a firing squad.

Mikael walked into the office. It was massive—floor-to-ceiling windows, scattered plants trying to make the power look soft. Prime Minister Daniel Brown sat behind his desk. Beside him stood William Redwood, Minister of Internal Affairs.

No surprises there. The two had been glued together since the scandal broke.

“Please, take a seat, Mr. Mikael,” Daniel said stiffly.

Mikael sat, relaxed. Too relaxed. “I see you’re not pleased, Daniel. Formalities really don’t suit you—”

“Can you please shut up?!” Daniel snapped.

Mikael blinked. He raised his hands in mock surrender. “Wow. Calm down, man.”

“How do you want me to calm down?!” Daniel slammed his hand on the desk. “You’re going on a rampage! Killing civilians! Arresting high-profile officials on live television!”

“Criminals,” Mikael corrected calmly. “And there was a reason for—”

“I don’t care!” Daniel cut him off. “We are at war! And you arrested the one man we need for the Western Front! I supported your project to clean the rot—not to burn the house down! People will never trust the government again!”

Mikael’s expression hardened. The playfulness vanished. “If you had actually fought the rot in your halls, I wouldn’t have had to act.”

Daniel froze.

“I trusted you,” Mikael continued, his voice low. “I gave you support. But you sat watching, afraid of breaking the country. The rot was breaking it while you micromanaged your desk.” Mikael leaned forward. “Let me guess—you feared losing your job?”

“I’ve known you eight years, Mikael,” Daniel said, his voice hurt. “As a friend. You don’t know limits. You crash in like a cowboy shooting anyone who looks suspicious.”

Redwood stepped forward. “They weren’t just suspicious, sir. They were proven guilty for years. Every time we moved, bureaucracy strangled us. They cut our budgets to starve us.”

Daniel looked at the young minister. He sighed, rubbing his forehead. “You’re too young for this, Redwood.”

“No,” Mikael shot back. “You’re acting like an Old Head now. You’re my age.”

Daniel blinked. He looked at Mikael, then at Redwood. He slumped in his chair. “I guess… I was just stressed. Everything happening at once.”

Mikael relaxed. A genuine smile returned. “I knew you’d snap back. Friend—I get you want peace. But paying for peace by keeping the rot? That price is too high.”

Daniel sighed, defeated. “Right. But calm it down a bit, okay? Don’t start imprisoning everyone like it’s a hobby. I know you’re waiting for one small signal to throw people into cells.”

Mikael laughed. “Well…”

The tension broke. They were just old men bickering in the sun again. For now.

Two Days Later. E-UNIT Lab. 11:00 AM.

The E-UNITs returned to public view to calm the city. They paraded through neighborhoods. Kids ran up for photos. The "Sweet Angels of Metromania" were back.

02 left the patrol early and walked into the lab. Hiss. The automatic door slid open.

Dr. Nick was buried in a pile of servo arms. Blue solder smoke curled around him like fog. “You’re here, 02!” he puffed, not looking up. He was fiddling with a joint on a metallic frame. “Sit still… I’m coming… just a little…” Click. “There! Good enough.”

He wiped grease off his forehead and turned to her. “I called you for good news.”

02 blinked. “Good news?”

“Mikael’s first order after taking control was fair funding,” Nick said, his eyes shining. He walked to a covered panel in the wall. “And now…” He opened it with a dramatic flourish. “…More E-UNITs will enter service in two weeks.”

02’s eyes went wide. A rare, genuine smile broke across her face. “You mean…”

Nick grinned. “Yes. 03 will join you tomorrow. I am already finishing her fix.”

02 froze. Then, she launched herself at him. THUD. She hugged him, burying her face in his lab coat. “THANK YOU! REALLY!”

She tapped her comms immediately. “Did you hear that?! 03 is coming back!!”

The private channel exploded. 04: “YES! Finally!” 05: “About time! The patrol routes were getting lonely!” 04: “Now we can test another lethal weapon on her!”

02’s voice turned sharp instantly. “It will need to pass me first.”

Dr. Nick laughed, a sound of pure relief. “No worries. You will like the upgrades very soon.”

“Upgrades?”

“Just finish the day,” Nick said, winking. “Tomorrow… you will fold everything.”

The lab hummed with power. The family was coming back together.

Mil’s Meals Restaurant. 01:25 PM.

Alfred Kane, the Police Chief, couldn’t sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the broadcast. He saw the E-UNITs cutting through armor like paper. He knew he was next. It was only a matter of time before those blue eyes looked at him.

He booked a meeting. Private. Quiet. A restaurant owned by the Mayor. No cameras. No uniforms. No public faces.

Alfred arrived with Gus, his muscle. Yuan Shikimori, CEO of Metro Robotics, arrived with Arthur. Mayor Fredric Mil came alone.

They sat around a table in the back room. Silence hung over them like a shroud. They had lost their strongest ally. They were exposed.

Gus broke the silence. “Options are limited,” he said, his voice low. “But we can’t stop swinging. Not now. We build, we hide, we strike back. At least we try.”

Arthur rubbed his jaw nervously. “Our confidence in the new prototypes is high. But those blades? The Lightning Blades? We’ve never seen that tech before. They’ll have more tricks. We must assume they do.”

Alfred’s face was stone. “What puzzles me is… why haven’t they arrested us yet? They could. They walked into a live studio. They could walk in here right now.” He stared at Shikimori. “They have a plan.”

Shikimori didn’t meet his eyes. “I don’t see a world where we win if we only react. Losing the Minister was fatal. Mikael is the brain; the E-UNITs are just his hands.”

The Mayor finally spoke. “You idiots.”

Fredric Mil slapped the table. SLAM. “You never use your heads. You flail with everything you’ve got, but without logic. Logic is their most dangerous weapon. They never make mistakes. We are human. We make mistakes. That’s why we lose.”

Alfred clenched his jaw. “So what? We give up?”

Fredric shook his head. His eyes were bright with a cruel calm. “No, you dumbass. We use our cards right.”

He pointed a finger at Shikimori. “Stop production of the old mechs immediately. Put your whole crew on the New Frame. Focus. If things get dirty, bring out the Five-Pilot Behemoth you told me about. Keep it secret—only ready.”

He turned to Alfred. “You order your thugs not to attack in big groups. Small, scattered pushes across the city. Keep the E-UNITs spread thin. Use their small numbers against them.”

“To hide our big movements?” Gus asked.

“Exactly.” Fredric didn’t smile. “I’ll give you properties I own—sites to hide the production. Make them look like empty warehouses. No patterns.”

He faced Arthur. “Secure the production sites you still have. Move everything to my outside warehouse. Quick. Don’t use your usual logistics. Confuse them.”

Arthur looked relieved. “Where were you when we needed this earlier?”

Fredric shrugged. “Protecting my image. At least one of us has to keep public trust.”

Alfred leaned in. “Gus—make the police do nothing. Traffic control. Crowd management. Look busy, but useless. Let the E-UNIT handle everything. If the city burns a little, let it burn. We hide our moves in plain sight.”

Gus cracked a grin. “Perfect. We move now.”

Shikimori folded his hands. The arrogance returned to his face like a mask. “We will report everything. Track their movements. If they act predictable… we exploit it.”

They rose as one. The Mayor, the CEO, the Manager, the Chief, and the Soldier. The plan was fragile. Desperate. But it was the only one they had.

Fredric closed the meeting, “Guerrilla tactics, the last best resort.”

They left faster than they arrived. Outside, Metromania continued its day, unaware that the rats were digging deeper tunnels. The war wasn't over. It had just gone underground.