Chapter 12: The New Dawn.

Metro Robotics HQ. Morning. 08:12 AM.

Shikimori ran. At his age, it was more of a desperate shuffle, but he moved faster than he had in years. Five engineers and three scientists trailed behind him, lab coats flapping like white flags of surrender.

He burst into the security wing. “PAUL!”

Paul, 37, the Security Manager, looked up. Usually, he was a man of steel confidence. Today, he looked like a man who hadn’t slept in a week. His eyes were red, rimmed with exhaustion.

Shikimori slammed his hands on the desk, gasping for air. “REPORT!”

Paul slowly uncrossed his arms. “All the attackers disconnected four minutes after engaging. Only one survived. He’s in our medical bay now.”

Shikimori’s face twisted. “I see. Wallmore was right.”

One of the engineers spoke up, voice trembling. “Any footage left?”

Paul turned his monitor. “Nothing. Just blue trails and shadows. You need to step up. Those robots are enjoying destroying your ‘little toys.’”

Shikimori turned to his team of brains. The desperation in his voice was palpable. “A week has passed! Our mechs are falling one by one! The military is pressing us for the units they already paid for!” He pointed a shaking finger at the Lead Engineer, Liam. “We need to change course. Call Wallmore. Focus everything on the Prototype. I want it ready in a week. at most.”

Liam saluted, his tone forced upbeat. “Yes, sir!” He sprinted out, his team following like panicked sheep.

Shikimori collapsed into a chair, exhaling a breath that felt like his soul leaving his body. “I need to call Kane.”

The Black District. 08:33 AM.

That same morning, Alfred Kane was walking through hell. The Black District. Cracked asphalt. Half-dead streetlights. Buildings eaten by rust. A place where drug deals bloomed like weeds and silence was worth more than gold. It was the perfect hole for dirty business.

Kane was here to meet an old friend. Since starting his "rebellion" within the police force, he needed leverage. He needed a Human Hostage.

He had reviewed the bank footage a thousand times. He found only one flaw in the perfect E-UNITs: Lack of Human Reaction Control. They hesitated when civilians were at risk.

He arrived at a crumbling balcony overlooking the grey sea. Marcus, a gang leader with more scars than teeth, was waiting. “KAAANE! My friend! How are you!”

Kane smiled—a mask of warmth. He hugged the man. “Nothing much! You look good, Marc.”

Marcus laughed, pushing him back. “Cut the crap, Kane. We’re just surviving. You got a mission for us?”

Kane’s face went serious. “You know me, Marc. Yes. A dangerous mission. But the reward is huge.”

Marcus’s eyes lit up. “Now we’re talking! How much?”

Kane whispered. “Two hundred grand.”

Marcus gasped, leaning back against the railing. “You are generous, my friend! You got a deal! What’s the demand?” He paused, his expression darkening. “Let me clarify, though. I heard what happened to the other gangs. They reached the hospital so fast their souls are still on the street. This better not be a one-way ticket.”

Kane grinned. It was a cold, calculated smile. “Don’t worry, friend. I have a plan you will like. No E-UNIT will touch you.”

E-UNIT HQ. The New Meeting Room. 08:45AM.

The morning sun barely reached through the thick glass walls of the new meeting room. It was a secure bunker, shielded from unwanted ears. 02 stood at the head of the steel table.

“Thanks for coming to today’s meeting—”

03 interrupted immediately. “Seriously?”

01 crossed her arms with a sigh. “Drop the formalities, Captain.”

02 smiled slightly. “Alright then. Let’s begin.” Her tone shifted. Sharp. Commanding. “We all experienced ambushes yesterday. Coordinated attacks. Mechs from Metro Robotics. But their approach… it’s changing. They are adapting.” She looked at her sisters. “They are trying to isolate us. They have footage. They are learning.”

Silence fell. “But,” 02 continued, “their attempts failed instantly. Speed and Power are still on our side. However, I believe these attacks were distractions.” She nodded to 01. “Please.”

01 tapped her tablet. The wall screen flickered to life. Five towering silhouettes appeared. Prototypes. Multiple heads. Sleek, angular designs. Not the clunky mechs they had fought before.

Dr. Nick blinked, half in awe. “What the—?! It’s so clean! Beautifully engineered… but that build needs massive funding!”

02 nodded. “Exactly. Money isn’t their problem. That factory we destroyed? Just a garage. Their real production is elsewhere.”

01 changed the image. A convoy of unmarked semi-trucks. “We spotted transports moving crates to the city outskirts. The trucks belong to MIL Investments.”

05 frowned. “Fredric Mil. The Mayor.”

04 crossed her arms. “So they’re working together… fools.”

Dr. Nick leaned back, rubbing his forehead. “That’s why I’ve been working my ass off. I need to finish the New E-UNITs.”

03’s eyes widened. “New sisters?!”

05 smirked. “Father never stops, huh?”

Nick glared. “Can you not make that sound weird?”

“Anyway!” Nick cut in. “I need data to train them. It took a year to train you. I don’t have a year. I need your combat data. Upload everything to the main server.” He looked at them seriously. “If everything goes smoothly, by this afternoon, three brand-new E-UNITs will be operational. Treat them well.”

05 asked, “Why not use our worldview for their personality base?”

Nick shook his head. “Because that would just make clones. I like how different you all are. Different personalities mean adaptability.”

03 giggled. “He likes our ‘personalities,’ huh?”

Nick sighed. “I swear to god, I’ll wipe your memory.”

East Coast Highschool. The Strike. 09:50AM.

02 stayed behind after the meeting. She was digging through the logs. Someone had messed with the patrol schedule. What she found was worse than a glitch. It was a Strike. The human police force had walked off the job. No warning. The city was running on minimum coverage.

She keyed her comms. “This is the Captain. The police went off work. Today will be a charged day.”

“Okay, Captain!”

They split into patrol patterns. An hour passed. Then the radio exploded.

03 screamed, breathless. “Armed attack on East Coast High School! Students are held hostage!”

02’s jaw tightened. “How convenient.” She issued commands like a conductor. “05, meet me there. Do not engage until we regroup.”

02 didn’t run. She used the Light Lane. She became a streak of blue light cutting through the city’s arteries. An impossibility for ordinary men. She arrived in minutes.

03 and 05 were waiting. 03 reported fast. “Status is bad. Twelve hostiles. Ten holding a classroom. Two on the football field with hostages. They demand we evacuate the city. They claim they are ‘Anti-Robot, Pro-Human.’”

02’s voice dripped with disbelief. “Pro-Human? While holding children at gunpoint?”

05 checked the thermal cams. “We can move quietly. Hallways are empty.”

02 mapped the plan. “05—hold the north classrooms. 03—hunt the field targets. I’ll take the rest inside.”

They moved with quiet precision, each step a calculated thread of speed and restraint. This was their first hostage situation since the bank attack. The team had been built for street control and offensive assaults, not hostage negotiation and surgical extractions. Human backup was scarce today; the police protest made that clear.

That lack of force would be a problem for most teams.

For E-UNIT, it was a challenge — the exact kind they’d been engineered to face.

Communications stayed tight. No heroics. No lone charges. They would not trade lives for bravado.

Outside, the city’s hum continued — buses, distant horns, a skyline that had no idea how close a scream could be to becoming a call for war. Inside the school, twelve armed men waited, counting on fear and confusion to hold them like a shield.

E-UNIT readied themselves.

The first moment would be decisive. The second would be irreversible. And none of them liked surprises.

They moved in — silent, precise, and together.

05 slipped through the back doors—no security to slow her.
She moved like she already expected it.

“They should be amateurs, or simply ordered in a rush. No one would take hostages and have zero security.”

Highschool’s West Side. 09:55 AM.

02 threaded into one of the empty classrooms. She could hear the girls crying in the next room. One attacker shouted, sharp and ugly:

“This is the fifth! I’M TELLING YOU TO SHUT UP, BITCH!”

02’s eyes flared red.

On the rooftop across the street, 03 settled into position. The two men at the field were spaced far apart — a one-shot, two-kill would be sweet, but the distance made it tricky.

03’s voice over the comm was flat, focused:

“That’s sad… but at least I can deal with two.”

02 on the channel:

“Wait my mark to attack. Attack at the same time so they can’t alert each other.”

Inside the classroom, one attacker muttered, “How come they’re not here yet?”
From the next room a man answered, smug on his radio, “Maybe boss overestimated them.”

02 moved like a shadow. The students — sharp enough to act natural — started clamoring to cover her footsteps:

“We want food!”
“My hair’s a mess!”
“Where’s Jimi?”
“My battery died!”

The attacker was looking at the window, waiting on the E-UNIT snapped, turning—only to meet 02 standing there.

“How many times I told you—” he snarled. He never finished.

She kicked him between the legs; he collapsed, cursing, and the classroom echoed with adolescent “Ooohs” like a chorus.

02 grabbed his hair and hauled him upward. He grinned — a fatal mistake. She slammed him into the ceiling with a soft, mechanical grace, then let him fall. Bones hit the floor with a brutal crunch everyone heard.

His teammate lunged forward: “What was—”

Before he finished, a flying robot girl appeared in the doorway like a blade. She kicked him into the hallway wall, then shoved him back into the classroom with a series of sharp, angry hits. A fist here, another there breaking him appart. He fell, unconscious, a mess of limbs and dull pain. The kids’ faces shifted — from fear to stunned relief.

She went to the next classroom, 02 moved like water, eyes cold, but no signal of attackers! Until one of them had a girl held at gunpoint stood up from one of the desks. the other two closed the door behind her.

“Well, end of the trip for you, Captain. Good try though! I really didn’t expect you to come in that fast. I guess boss was right after all,” the man with the hostage sneered.

02’s voice was ice.

“Why are you doing this? And I mean the real reason.”

He laughed.

“You think I’ll tell you the details in a chit-chat like villains in cartoons?! You’re really a young girl after all!”

02 clicked her tongue and smiled, slow and dangerous.

“Tch tch tch tch. You guys never understand the difference in power between us.” She began to walk toward the window, calm as a storm. “You always think bullets make you unstoppable. You always want one thing: control and law-free life.”

She looked out at the sea of faces and the empty corridors beyond.

“I mean, do you have a phone? Did you see how we cleared most of our enemies from the face of this earth? I guess you didn’t see 03 in her maniac mode yet, haha.”

The man’s face hardened.

“Are you mocking me?”

02’s grin widened.

“Mikael really thinks high of his kind. He thought if he released footage of us fighting, maybe—just maybe—fools like you would flip and think, ‘Oo, that’s dangerous! Let’s stop crime!’ Right?”

He snapped. “Are you mocking me?!”

02’s voice dropped to something colder than winter.

“He thought maybe crime would drop by scaring idiots like you. But NO—” Her tone cracked like ice. “You came here doing a FUC*ING TERRORIST ACT. How dumb can you be? You’re fighting a machine DESIGNED to stop you! Why doesn’t anyone learn from history? Same mistake again and again—”

The man tried to gulp response.

“Uhhh… please calm down. Nothing—”

02 in same scary voice: "I’m past that the moment I heard hostage... 03, hit the king." the guy: "are you nuts! what are you blab-"

Then — bang.

The window shattered as 03’s round punched clean through the man’s skull and into the far wall. He collapsed like a demolished tower.

Two men in the back stood frozen, shock ripping through them.

02 snapped into motion. She opened her shields and charged into the hallway, destroying the door open like tissue. She murmured, casual and small,

“Yeeeess.”

She kicked one attacker into the air; an elbow slammed him into the hallway wall. The other tried to get up. 02 grabbed his vest — he was taller, but she was precise — and hauled him down to eye level.

“You really thought you slick, huh.” She tried the slang she’d heard online, but the man only stared. “Never mind.”

She tossed him aside and then, with a single crack from a calibrated kick to the gut, shredded his spine from behind. He folded, twitching. The strength in her kicks was not human.

The North Wing. 09:55 AM.

The north side of the school was quiet — too quiet.
05 crouched behind corner, watching the first classroom through a cracked window. A mischievous grin spread across her face.

05 whispered, “Alright… let’s make them dance.”

Suddenly, her voice echoed through the hall like a terrified student.
05 yelled with fear pretending, “No! Leave me alone! Let me leave!! What are you doing!?”

Four out of five attackers inside froze, and came out.

Attacker 1: “What the hell was that?”
Attacker 2: “You got someone with you?”
Attacker 3: “Not me.”
Attacker 4: “Must be Mark in the last classroom—let’s check it out!”

They stormed toward the far end of the corridor. The distance and thick walls kept the last guard — Mark — completely unaware.

Mark screaming un confusion, “You idiots! Why did you leave the classrooms without cover?!”
Attacker 2 replied, “We heard a scream!”
Mark spat, “You morons, use your damn radios! What scream—”

He stopped. His eyes widened.
05 stood right behind him.

Attacker 3: “What the—?!”

She vanished.

Mark (furious): “She’s just fast, you dumbasses—”

Her boot slammed into his spine — CRACK! Blood flew from his mouth as his body folded against the wall.
He didn’t even have time to scream again.

Then she disappeared once more.

Attacker 4 confused, “What happ—”

A blur flashed. BAM! A fist to the face drove him into the wall, skull-first.
The last three screamed in panic.

05 stepped out her expression unreadable.
“I hate unnecessary noise.”

She made sure no kids were behind them, then thrust her shield forward — SLAM! — sending the three men crashing into the hallway.
In one motion, she pulled out her twin pistols.
‘dut, dut, dut’ — three perfect headshots. Silence.

Football Field. 09:57 AM.

Outside, 03 knelt on a nearby rooftop, scope already fixed on the last two gunmen at the football pitch. Her breath was steady, her pulse almost mechanical.

02 in comms, “03, take down the king.”

She turned to the classroom her captain was in. Target locked.
Hostage at gunpoint. One window. One chance.

03 adjusted her silencer in a flick, wind and angle calculated in a microsecond.

‘Pew.’

The round tore through glass and skull, the man collapsing instantly.
Inside, 02 moved like lightning — slamming through the wall to finish off the rest.

03 turned her rifle toward the pitch. The two men were close — perfect alignment.

03 whispered, “Two kills, one shot, finally”

‘Pew.’

Both bodies dropped cleanly.

Then her breath stopped.
Among the group of hostages — one man stood up, gun raised at a terrified student.
He wasn’t a hostage.

03’s eyes widened. She screamed — pure panic in her voice,
“NOOOOO!!”

A flash tore through the sky — 02 burst from a shattered window, firing mid-air.
The man dropped before his finger even reached the trigger.

02 in calm tone, “Target compromised.”

03’s rifle lowered slowly. She exhaled, knees hitting the concrete.
03 quietly, “Thank you, Captain…”

She turned her head. A man in pajamas was standing in the window across the street, holding a coffee mug.

He waved awkwardly.

03 blinked. She waved back. “Just another day in Metromania, I guess…”

She switched her comms back on. “Targets cleared. Students secured. Reporting in.”