Chapter 13: The Man Who Lost the City.

Metromania, North West. Marcus Den. 03:41 PM.

Alfred Kane met with his usual "partners." But today, the room was cold. “NO! I’m not sending my men to their end!” The gang boss yelled, fear leaking from every word. “Those monsters outside—they don’t play around! One hit to freeze you, then they keep hitting like demons feeding on pain!”

Kane leaned forward, desperation creeping into his voice. “I know, but listen—I have a plan. I just need manpower. We push them out of service, disrupt their routes, and keep our transactions flowing.”

Marcus Jeroen, 37, a mafia veteran with a stone face and lungs black from smoke, slammed the table. BAM. “I said NO! One of my men saw how they move. We’re done. I’m pulling my people out. I’ll never do another job in this city.”

Kane’s voice cracked. “What do you mean?”

Marcus stood up, towering over him. He shook his head slowly. “I mean we’re leaving, my friend. And if you try to stop us, your shady deals go public. You hear me?”

“So that’s it? You give up?”

Marcus stared at him coldly. “Yes. I give up. This city’s finished. Those things out there… it’s like an alien invasion. We have zero chance.”

Kane froze. “…I can’t believe it.”

“You better believe it. Our ties are done.” Marcus turned, his men following him out into the ruined street. And just like that, Kane was alone. No crew. No allies. Just silence.

Even the protest against the E-UNITs had been dismantled by the court. “No reason to stop operations,” the judge had ruled. The city had already chosen sides.

Kane walked to his old 80s car, lit a smoke, and drove off. Streetlights reflected on the windshield—Blue. Red. Blue. Red. Like mockery.

Kane’s Complex Building. South East Metromania City. 04:57 PM.

He parked under his apartment tower. The guard, Jim, looked up. “Welcome back, Mr. Kane. You look terrible. Heavy day?” Kane sighed, dropping onto the bench beside him. “Quite the opposite, Jim.”

“Oh? They trying to retire you?”

Kane smirked faintly. “Yeah. These E-UNITs are… something else.”

Jim nodded. “Let’s be honest, sir. They’re another level.”

“I know. I shouldn’t complain. Machines replaced workers before, back in the industrial revolution. We never went back then, either.”

Jim folded his arms. “You’re right. And without new jobs, families go hungry. It’s a chain reaction.”

“Exactly.” Kane smiled weakly. “If you were a machine, you wouldn’t listen to me like this. You’d just answer perfectly, without caring.”

Jim chuckled. “If a machine could listen, would you replace me?”

“Huh. Good question.” Kane flicked his cigarette. “But I’d rather talk to someone who feels me, not something that just pretends to.”

Jim nodded. “Can’t argue. But when it’s about security? People will still vote for the E-UNIT every time.”

Kane stared at the floor. “…If I were them, I’d do the same.” He stood up. “Thanks for listening, Jim.”

“Anytime, Mr. Kane.”

Kane walked into his apartment. Inside—silence. Modern luxury wrapped in soft light. White walls. Grey tiles polished like mirrors. Glass windows stretching to the skyline. Everything screamed wealth. Everything felt empty.

He dropped onto his couch and flicked the TV on. BREAKING NEWS: Police arrested a local gang earlier today. The group is linked to several black-market transactions—

Kane’s cigarette almost fell from his lips. “Whaaaat—?!” The screen showed Marcus and his men, cuffed, faces pressed into the concrete.

Then he laughed. A dry, broken laugh that turned into a childish grin. “You deserve it, fucker.”

He leaned back, eyes half-closed, smoke curling up like ghosts. For the first time that day, Kane smiled.

The Escape. 03:45 PM.

Marcus Jeroen stormed out of the abandoned factory. The rain had begun to fall. Thin at first, like dust from the clouds, then turning into heavy, cold drops that bounced off his coat. Marcus didn’t care. He had made up his mind.

His men were waiting near the trucks. Black sedans, engines running under the broken roof of the warehouse. The smell of gasoline mixed with wet concrete. He was serious. He was leaving the city. It was the only logical move left.

Marcus wasn’t a "shoot and run" thug. He was a strategist. He had managed chaos for years, keeping order between rival factions. Even the E-UNIT hadn’t caught him. That was a badge of honor. But now, honor meant nothing. Fear had replaced it.

“Everything ready?” he barked.

“All set, Boss,” one man said, wiping rain from his nose.

Marcus took one last look at the skyline—a blur of light and smoke in the distance. “We’re moving East,” he muttered. “As far as the road lets us. No turning back.”

The convoy rolled out. Headlights sliced through the rain. It was quiet for a while. Just the hum of engines and the hiss of tires on wet asphalt.

Then, through the sheets of rain, a figure appeared above the road. Something faintly glowing Blue.

It was 04. She was patrolling the Light Lane bridge above. Her eyes locked onto a license plate. She recognized it from the hostage mission briefing. Target Locked.

She dove toward the lead car. Low. Calm. “Sir, please stop for a routine inspection.”

The driver spat out the window. “We didn’t do shit!”

“Just a regular inspection,” 04 repeated flatly.

Marcus leaned forward from the back seat. “No, no, no! Don’t stop! Lose her!” The driver floored it. Water sprayed in high arcs. The four other cars followed, engines roaring.

04 matched their speed easily. She ran along the side rail of the highway, her reflection flashing in every puddle. “Requesting backup! Five cars on the run—possible gang activity!”

The cars weaved through traffic. The rain made the road slick, dangerous. They hoped to hit the border and vanish. “Kane cursed me with bad luck!” Marcus swore. “Don’t shoot! If they activate Code Red, we’re done!”

04 kept following. Silent. Patient. A blue ghost in the storm. One of Marcus’s men stared at her through the rear window. “Boss! She’s just following us!”

“No way,” Marcus hissed. “Is that a new tactic?”

“Look!” the driver shouted, pointing ahead.

The road went black. No streetlights. No cars. The highway swallowed them like a mouth. 05 had killed the power grid for an 800-meter radius. This was a Ghost Zone now.

Then—shapes emerged from the dark. Not one. Not two. Five E-UNITs. 01. 05. 06. 07. 08. Shields locked together in the middle of the highway. Boots pressed deep into the asphalt. Unmovable.

“Speed up! Smash through!” Marcus ordered. “Lose her!” They pushed the engines to the limit. 04 vanished from the side rail. A cheer rose in the car. “Lost her!”

Then— CRASH! The first car hit the E-UNIT wall like a paper toy. Metal folded instantly. SCREECH-CRUNCH. The second car slammed into the first. Then the third. A chain reaction of twisted metal and shattered glass. Car alarms wailed like dying screams in the storm.

The last car skidded sideways, stopping inches from the carnage. The driver stepped out, trembling. Steam rose from the wrecks. Bodies groaned inside.

Through the storm, 04 emerged from the darkness. Her eyes burned Red. Twin blue blades hummed in her hands. She walked forward slowly—like a model on a runway of destruction. Every drop of rain glowed blue as it touched her blades.

The survivor raised his gun, shaking. “S-stay back!”

Marcus crawled out of his crushed car, blood streaming from his forehead. “NO! Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot her!! Just surrender!”

The gangster turned back—just long enough for 04 to appear in front of him. The edge of her blade stopped a millimeter from his neck. Heat radiated from the plasma edge.

Her voice was cold. “So… are you going to follow his orders?”

The man dropped the gun. It clattered on the wet road. He fell to his knees. Marcus groaned from the ground. “Yes! We give up! Please… just don’t kill us!”

From above, 03 landed hard, cracking the road. She slung her sniper rifle over her shoulder, smirking. “Smart choice! See? It’s that easy.”

Then her tone shifted to ice. “The others should’ve listened too. Marcus Jeroen. For organized crime, high-level theft, and acts of terrorism against minors… You are under arrest.”

05 and 07 moved in. Silent sync. Mechanical precision. They cuffed the survivors. 08 carried the wounded to the armored truck like they weighed nothing.

Rain poured harder, washing away the blood. The E-UNITs stood over the wreckage—silent, glowing sentinels in the dark. Another gang gone. Another night under their watch. The city whispered one truth under the storm: No one escapes the E-UNIT.

The Mayor’s Office. 12:03 AM.

The rain didn’t stop. Mayor Fredric Mil sat alone in his office. When he stayed this late, it usually meant he was covering his tracks.

Unlike Kane, Fredric kept his records clean. If the Chief went down, Fredric wanted no strings attached. He had been checking documents for days. Flipping through every file. Scanning every digital record. His face was pale under the harsh office light.

Finally, he leaned back. “There’s no way… They don’t have a clue on me.” He let out a shaky laugh. “There’s nothing! I verified everything. They just made a clever assumption because the company is on my land. That’s all! I can still save myself.”

With new confidence, he pulled out his phone. He made calls. Short. Calculated. Arranging backup plans. Fredric Mil didn’t trust anyone. Not Kane. Not Shikimori.

He stared at the clock. Midnight. “If the E-UNIT takes down Metro Robotics, I shift the blame. I’ll say the Defense Ministry pressured me. I already forged the papers.” He opened a folder of fake contracts. “As for the cash… already laundered through MIL Investments. Thank God I refused direct transfers.”

He rubbed his temples. “If all goes well, I resign quietly. Leave this cursed city. Maybe the country.”

Riiiing. His phone buzzed. He hesitated. Then answered. “Yes, this is Mayor Mil.”

“It’s me—Kane.”

Fredric straightened. “Is the line safe?”

“Of course.”

“Wait.” The Mayor walked to the window and closed the heavy curtains. He paused to listen to the rain. He usually loved the sound. Tonight, it sounded like static. “Alright. What is it?”

“They’re after the gangs.”

Fredric frowned. “The ones under you? How did they kno—”

“Every gang,” Kane interrupted. “They’re cleaning the streets. Even the small ones.”

The Mayor leaned back. “Damn it… they figured out our plan. But… they haven’t attacked Metro Robotics yet.”

“They’re adding members,” Kane said flatly.

The Mayor’s eyes widened. “WHAT!?”

“They’re waiting for more E-UNITs. I checked with Dr. Nick. Mikael gave him engineers. They’re speeding up production.”

Fredric slammed his palm on the desk. “That bug never stops getting in our way!”

“It’s worse,” Kane said. “Now I know why they didn’t arrest us first. They’re building a case. Waiting for everything to connect. Once they prove the Police Chief and the Mayor are guilty, they get legal access to every department. They want to crush the entire network in one move.”

Fredric exhaled, staring blankly at the ceiling. “So there’s no way to run?”

“No,” Kane replied. “They stopped five cars at once on the highway. A whole convoy. Their report says they used a blockade. How? I don’t know.”

Silence filled the line. Then the Mayor spoke quietly. “It’s late. I’ll think of something tomorrow. For now, stay low. If Shikimori’s plans stay hidden, we might have a chance.”

“Should we meet tomorrow?”

“No,” the Mayor replied. “The Minister of Internal Affairs called me for a meeting.”

“Something serious?”

“No… simple matters, I hope. Keep your eyes open.”

“Sure.” Click.

Fredric stayed silent. The rain was fading now. The city lights reflected across his office—clean, cold, soulless. He whispered to himself, almost like a confession. “I know exactly why they didn’t arrest me yet… but you, my friend, are drowning alone in this.”

Outside, the moon broke through the last clouds. The sky cleared. And so did the truth behind this case.

E-UNIT HQ. 08:00 AM.

The morning light crawled slowly through the tall glass windows of the E-UNIT headquarters, faintly touching the metallic surface of the meeting table. The rain had finally stopped, leaving the city washed and quiet — the kind of silence that feels like a warning before the next storm.

02 sat beside her father, Dr. Nick, while 01 stood near the projector, arms crossed. They were surrounded by papers, holograms, and classified documents from the Metro Robotics warehouse. What was supposed to be a victory now looked like a riddle.

02’s brows were furrowed as she flipped through the pages. “This doesn’t make sense! Most of these prototypes are deployable — and possible to build in the real world. But none of them showed up in combat so far! They’ve been attacking us with the lightest mechs they have!”

01 leaned back against the wall, calm but uneasy. “Maybe that’s why we took them down so easily.”

Dr. Nick, sitting with one leg crossed, was studying a digital file on his tablet. “These are military-grade weapons,” he said quietly, “but 02 is right. Metro Robotics is playing a longer game. If these documents are true, your next confrontations won’t be like anything you’ve faced before.” He paused, sliding one page to the center. “But this one… this one is what scares me.”

02 leaned closer. “Which one?”

Dr. Nick pressed a button, and the hologram projector flickered to life, displaying a single design — a humanoid suit, strangely ordinary. No heavy armor, no glowing core, no visible weapon ports. Just a smooth, plain silhouette.

01 tilted her head. “Looks normal to me.”

“That’s exactly the problem,” Dr. Nick said, his voice tightening. “It’s listed as one of their most advanced models. But there’s no information, no schematics, no listed power source. Nothing. It’s like… they want us to overlook it.”

02 crossed her arms, skeptical. “Still, those heavy mechs are the real threat. We’ve seen what their cannons can do.”

Before Dr. Nick could answer, a static voice came from 01’s radio:

“This is 05. We’re ready, captain. 03 is waiting for you at the southern deck.”

01 sighed, switching her radio off. “Are we really doing this today?”

02 stood up, firm. “If we wait any longer, they’ll move their production sites again. They’re already relocating assets — we can’t give them time to hide.”

“So we move while they’re distracted,” 01 said, her tone sharpening.

02 nodded. “Exactly. And we got intel that the transport starts today.”

01 frowned slightly. “Intel? We’ve been active for less than a month. Don’t tell me you’ve already built connections.”

02 smirked. “Not me. Some of the young officers offered help. They’ve got friends inside Metro Robotics. Seems like not everyone is loyal to Kane’s side.”

Dr. Nick leaned back, understanding dawning in his eyes. “The young men being ignored by the system… I see. Their revenge against the chief.”

“Exactly,” 02 said. “And they gave us everything we need.”

She turned toward the window, sunlight reflecting off her mechanical eyes. The city stretched beneath her — clean, calm, unaware of the chaos about to rise again.

Dr. Nick adjusted his glasses. “If things go well, five more E-UNITs will be operational soon. I’d say… within one month.”

02 grinned, that cold yet confident smile. “Perfect. By then, we would’ve finished the final dance.”

The hologram flickered, the strange prototype suit still glowing on the table — silent, mysterious, and almost watching them back.

Ministry of Internal Affairs, The Capital. 11:04 AM.

Mayor Fredric Mil walked into the Ministry of Internal Affairs.
The minister himself — Mr. Redwood — had called him in. These summonses weren’t new; Redwood checked on major-city mayors about every three months since taking office. He hated corruption more than anyone and wore the ministry like armor. To him, policing small officials was as important as guarding the nation.

The ministry’s office surprised Mil. It was shockingly modern for such an old-school institution — glass, chrome, and clean lines. Fredric hated those stark rooms. He loved classic richness: heavy wood, velvet curtains, gold frames. His home reflected that obsession.

He entered the office. Redwood sat behind a modest desk. No gold statues. No expensive paintings. Just stacks of paper and a laptop. Mikael Wilson sat on the sofa, sipping tea.

Fredric froze. “I didn’t know the Police Director would be joining us.”

Redwood smiled. It didn’t reach his eyes. “Mikael has a keen interest in… investments.”

Fredric sat down, waving his lawyers away. “Give us a moment.” The door clicked shut.

Now he sat in a sleek chair on the right, facing Redwood.
“Good morning, Mr. Redwood,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady.

Redwood answered, dry and distant. “Good morning, Mr. Mil.”

For Mil, Redwood was both superior and judge. People elected Fredric mayor, but ministers outranked mayors in the system. Redwood slid a thin folder across the table and folded his hands. His face showed none of the pleasantries.

“Fredric,” he said. “I reviewed your work for the past three months. I’m impressed.”

Relief flickered across Mil’s features. He let out an almost inaudible breath.

“I’m more than happy with how you’ve kept your city among the best in the country,” Redwood continued. “You run a city like a state. That takes hard work— and ethics.”

Mil blinked. “Ethics?”

“Yes,” Redwood said, and his voice sank like a blade. “Ethics are what I care about after competence.”

Mil smiled, trying to play along. “Of course. We need honest people to run the government.”

Redwood’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Exactly. You understand, Mayor Mil. How ironic.”

THUD. Redwood dropped a thick folder on the desk. The label read: MIL INVESTMENTS – TRANSACTION LOGS (2020-2024).

Mil stiffened. “What—?”

“How can you speak about honesty with a straight face?” Redwood’s voice sharpened. “I am impressed, yes. Impressed that a man with your criminal record and those huge corruption ties could build a brilliant city — and still talk about honesty so openly. Do you think I’m dumb?”

“No, sir. Never.” Mil’s voice trembled.

Redwood slapped a paper on the table. “Are you surrounding yourself with idiots and thinking everyone is one too?”

Mil stammered. “Please— elaborate. I don’t—”

“I’d be happy to.” Redwood opened the folder. “Do you expect me to believe that a small investment firm — say, Mil Investments — made fifty million dollars in eight months?”

Mil’s face went pale. “Sir, that’s a side project—”

“A side project?” Redwood’s eyes were cold. “Mil Investments is an investment company that buys property. How do you get those green numbers while others struggle to keep their doors open? How, if you didn’t use your office as Mayor to feed your side business?”

Mil’s confusion worsened. He had prepared for Metro Robotics exposure. He hadn’t prepared for this. He’d forgotten the other part of the equation. He was not ready.

Redwood kept going, voice low and relentless. “I will take your silence as consent. You are removed from the office of Mayor. You are under investigation for corruption. You are prohibited from leaving the state until the ministry’s inquiry ends. Leave my sight before I throw up.”

“We know, Fredric,” Mikael said from the sofa, his voice casual. “We know you laundered Metro Robotics’ money. We know you took a 15% cut to look the other way when they built the illegal weapon factories on the outskirts.”

Fredric stood up, indignant. “This is slander! That company is a legitimate shell corporation for real estate—”

“Sit down,” Redwood ordered. His voice wasn’t loud, but it carried the weight of a gavel. Fredric sat.

Fredric stared at the papers. Dates. Amounts. Names. It was all there. His life’s work. His escape plan. Burned. “You’re finished,” Mikael said, setting his tea down. “The only reason you aren’t in cuffs right now is because we need one last thing.”

Fredric swallowed hard. His mouth felt like sand. “What… what do you want?”

Redwood leaned forward. “Shikimori.” He tapped the desk. “We know he’s building something. Something big. He’s cut communications with Kane. We need to know where the final prototype is being held.”

Fredric’s mind raced. If he talked, Shikimori would kill him. If he didn’t, he would die in prison.

“If I talk…” Fredric whispered.

“Immunity,” Redwood lied smoothly. “House arrest. You keep the mansion. You lose the office.”

It was a trap. Fredric knew it was a trap. But he was a drowning man, and this was a piece of wood. “Sector 4,” Fredric choked out. “The ‘assembly’ facility. That’s where the Behemoth is.”

Mikael stood up, checking his watch. “Pleasure doing business, Mr. Mayor.” He tapped his earpiece. “Captain? Did you get that?”

Fredric’s eyes went wide. “You were broadcasting?!”

Mikael winked. “Always.”

Mil’s shoulders collapsed. He bowed his head. The modern room felt colder. No speeches, no stalling. The minister’s hand was heavy and final.

He left the office with his hands empty.
Not long ago, he’d thought his careful records and forged papers would buy him time. Now the law had come for him from a side he hadn’t expected.

Outside, the city continued as if nothing had happened — cars, vendors, gray clouds drifting away. But for Fredric Mil, something fundamental had shifted. The net had tightened.

Metro Robotics HQ. 13:09 PM.

Yuan Shikimori stood on the catwalk, looking down at his creation. The Behemoth. It stood twenty feet tall. Black steel. Red sensor arrays. It didn’t look like a machine. It looked like a monster made of metal.

His phone buzzed. Kane calling. He ignored it. Mayor Mil calling. He ignored it.

He knew. He knew they had folded. He knew they were coming.

Every worker at the company stood before him. Waiting for him to launch the ‘ANTI-AI’ plan.

Shikimori in a monotone, CEO like voice. “We already spoke about the details in the past week. Make them regret it. Make this plan a success and a huge raise will hit your bank accounts.”

Everyone cheered like a military general declared war on a long-awaited enemy.

The Four Sites of Metro Robotics Facilities. 09:00 PM.

The streets were thin as paper. Cold nights pulled people indoors; short days made walking the dark lanes uncomfortable. Metromania hummed quietly under neon breaths. Empty. Waiting.

E-UNIT moved like rumor — fast, precise, surgical. Everyone knew their numbers were too small to stop every street crime. They were the emergency unit: big cases, big events. Tonight, was a big event.

The eight of them split into four teams. Four targets. Four strikes. Everything timed to fall like dominoes.

No HQ tonight. That was for another day — when their ranks grew and the risk could be shouldered. Metro Robotics still hid their trump cards. The team refused to walk into a trap.

Alpha
01 and 08. Their job — intercept the moving trucks that fled an hour earlier.

Beta
04 and 05. Assembly line — shut it down, burn the production.

Delta
06 and 07. Resource storage. Low risk, high payoff.

Omega
02 and 03. Remember that name. They took the core development facility. Dangerous. Necessary. Perfect for two who danced on the edge.

The facilities were miles apart to ordinary people. For E-UNIT, the Light Lane folded distances into nothing. Where others saw roads, they saw lines of light to run on. One city — one heartbeat.

They gathered in the launching room — steel walls, racks of gear humming, light lanes converging like spokes in wheel. Lockers clicked, HUDs synced, final checks ran through the air. Cold air. Tight faces. Systems warm and waiting. The room smelled of metal and ozone, and everything in it felt ready to break open the night.

02 stepped forward. Her voice was quiet, the kind that made the air listen.

“E-UNIT — our sole purpose is to take down bad souls and make the world safer for those who play by the book. People hate laws, and we hate those who hide behind power. This company built fortunes off our people’s pain, off war and silence. Don’t… hold… back. Make them regret stepping in our territory. And hey — enjoy yourselves. We’ll have a lot of fireworks tonight. Flesh-made.”

Her eyes glinted.
She raised her hand, the signal simple and deadly.

“E-UNIT — CODE RED… INITIATED.”

No more words. No more hesitation.

Light lanes flared — paths of blue tearing the dark.
They ran, flew, and vanished.

Tonight, they would clear a city long eaten by a slow virus.
Tonight they would burn the roots.

Fireworks, yes. Flesh and steel as the sky answered back.