Chapter 36: Imitation of Authority

Ministry of defense. New Mer’s Capital. 07:03 am.

Precise steps echoed through the dark hallway. Calculated, militarized, and consistent. The destination was clear. The last room at the end of the corridor, the only place where light leaked through the darkness.

Ricardo entered the room.

Smoke hung heavily in the air, mixed with the presence of old figures seated around a large table. Everything was made of wood. A massive wooden table. Heavy wooden chairs. Tall wooden windows. Even the walls were wood. In the eighties, people would have called this a luxury lifestyle.

He carefully pulled a chair back and sat among the powerful men.
“Thank you for waiting,” he said calmly. “I was in a call with our milking cow.”

Laughter erupted across the room.

“He cannot be more gullible,” one of them said, tapping ash from his cigarette. “Thinking money alone earns you a seat at this table is the mindset of a losing man.”

“Enough jokes, gentlemen,” the Minister of Defense spoke, his voice firm. “It is time to shape the entire region. We will report both successes and failures.”

Ricardo looked at his generals.
“Before we begin,” the northern region’s first general said with a grin, “I must admit something. Having an actor as Minister of Defense turned out to be a blessing. I never thought we needed that.”

Old money laughter echoed again. The smoke grew thicker.
“Mr. Calibas, you seem in a very good mood today,” Ricardo replied casually.

“Well, my friend, let me explain why,” Calibas said. “And that will mark the start of our mission.”

He took a deep drag from his cigarette and placed it aside.

“First. The high efficiency weapon our simple minded mechanic built is ready. Tests are complete. It destroys machines from the inside and the outside. Melting might be an exaggeration, but our test subject was eliminated in five seconds.”

Gasps filled the room.

The second general leaned forward. “And what exactly did you use as a test subject?”

“The original medical robot we stole from Altea,” Calibas answered slowly. “If they share the same creator, and our intelligence confirms they do, then ending this war becomes a matter of choice. Not capability.”

Ricardo’s grin stretched wide.

“That explains why we threw twenty percent of our budget into this project,” he said. “And it finally paid off.”

His tone hardened.
“What guarantee do we have that they possess no countermeasure?”

“They do not even know this weapon exists,” Calibas replied. “That is why we must act fast. Once we confirm it works on one of their units, we launch a full assault. We dismantle their final defense.”

He paused.
“Those blue androids are the last shield they have.”

Smirks appeared around the table.

Ricardo leaned back, satisfied.
“If this mission succeeds, promotions will follow. Starting with you, Mr. Calibas.”

“The mission itself is promotion enough,” Calibas said. “We endured Altea for too long. We planned. We tested. Now we execute.”

His eyes narrowed.
“I want Vegas’s head on my table.”

Ricardo nodded slowly.
“I agree. Now, the bad news.”

The second general lowered his head.
“Our secret operation in Metromania is failing. Completely.”

Ricardo’s expression darkened.
“I gave you one thousand robots,” he said coldly. “How do you fail to take a city smaller than their capital?”

“They found us.”
The room fell silent.

“They found every hideout,” the general continued. “The robots are being destroyed one by one. Even the unit we planned to deploy was eliminated.”

He inhaled deeply.
“Our decision to control them directly is the reason, I believe.”

“How?” Ricardo demanded.

“Remote control at long range requires a heavy signal,” the general explained. “It is secured, but not invisible.”

Ricardo nodded slowly.
“So they became un-hackable, but detectable.”

He stood up and walked toward the window. Soldiers trained outside, moving in perfect formation. His hands rested behind his back.
“We need a decisive strike,” he said quietly. “A trap.”

He turned around, a faint smirk forming.
“And I know exactly how to set it.”

Ricardo raised a secured phone and initiated a call.
“Wallmore,” he said calmly. “I have something for you.”

National Park. Metromania. 09:20 am.

“To the joints!” 11 shouted while firing at the Black Medics. “Those areas are weaker!”

The 30 series replied in unison. “Roger that!”

The national park had turned into chaos. It was already closed for repairs, which made it the perfect empty zone for New Mer to deploy two hundred Black Medics without civilian interference. Broken paths, torn grass, and shattered benches covered the area.

“An attack at the local east shore’s parking lot!” 12 yelled through comms. “We will handle it! All available E-UNITs, return to Metromania immediately!”

11 did not stop firing. One robot fell after another, but the Black Medics advanced in tight formations, relying on numbers rather than tactics.

“34, 35, protect nearby civilians!” 11 ordered. “Leave the engagement to the rest!”
Her pistol grew hotter in her grip. She had been firing nonstop for nearly twenty minutes.

“Roger!”
34 and 35 launched toward the park gates, spreading their shields wide. They evacuated civilians from nearby streets and formed mobile barriers in case the fighting spread.

The team pushed forward. The Black Medics began to collapse under pressure. Numbers alone could not overpower a coordinated force.

“Captain!” 36 called out. “Their line is breaking! Only fifty left!”

“Excellent,” 11 replied, reloading at extreme speed. “Keep advancing!”
She stepped ahead of her formation, pulling the team forward with her presence.

Black Medics required human oversight to function at peak efficiency. Their internals were not designed for prolonged combat. Their combat routines activated automatically when their sensors detected E-UNIT frequencies, but their adaptability was limited.

33 pushed too far ahead.
She was suddenly surrounded and driven against a concrete wall.

11 saw it instantly.
She rushed forward.

CLANG!
CLANG!
CLANG!

11 deployed her shields and slammed into the robots like a charging beast, striking them aside one after another. As soon as 33 was free, she rejoined the fight, finishing the remaining units together with her captain.

The final ten made a desperate move.
They charged 38.

A brutal synchronized kick launched her into the air.
Above her, a Black Medic waited, fists clenched.

CLANK.

38 was struck midair and sent crashing downward. The world blurred as gravity took control.
Another Black Medic waited below. Its systems calculated her fall, predicted the exact landing point.

11 raised her pistol.
Time slowed.

She was part of the original twenty. Those early units carried superior processing cores.

38 was falling north.
Enemy units regrouped east.
The rest of the team secured the west.

33 and 34 shouted warnings through comms.
Her visor glowed.
Weak points locked.
She adjusted the targeting manually. Perfectly.

Ten shots fired. One after another.
She moved as fast as the bullets.

11 launched forward and caught 38 mid-fall.
Time snapped back to normal.

38 opened her eyes weakly. 11’s face filled her vision as she carried her toward the repair bay.
38 did not resist. She let her captain hold her.

11 spoke through comms while entering the Light Lane™. “Good work, team. The Park is cleared in under thirty minutes. Move to assist 12 at the east shore. I will rejoin shortly.”

The entire squad replied together, voices energized. “Roger that, captain!”
They launched into the Light Lane™ and followed her orders.

12 and the 10 series were still engaged at the east shore. Another Black Medic group resisted fiercely.

“We need backup!” 12 shouted. “At least one full squad!”

31 landed first. Her sisters followed, one after another. They formed beside 12 and opened fire immediately.
Unlike earlier attempts, the 30 series dropped Black Medics in single shots.

12 stopped firing.
She stared.

The efficiency.
The coordination.
The speed.

The robots fell one by one as the 30 series moved like a single mind.

12 opened comms, disbelief in her voice. “How are you doing this?”

31 replied instantly. “11 trained us. We prepared specifically for Black Medic engagements.”
She glanced at 12 mid-fight and smirked. “Her leadership is clearly superior.”

The 30 series did not slow down. They dominated the remaining units.
19 overheard the exchange. Her expression hardened.

12 tried to change the subject. “Where is 11 now?”
Several heads turned toward 31, ready to criticize again.

31 did not hesitate. “She is personally escorting 38 to the repair bay. She refused to delegate it.”

Silence followed.
12 froze. Her processor surged. She glanced at 19, who looked equally shaken.
Through private comms, 12 whispered, “What did we do?”

They had resisted 11’s leadership. The wound from losing 17 had not healed.
But 11 had not broken.
She was shining.

Minutes later, the area was clear. No Black Medics remained.
11 contacted them. “Good work, team.”

31 blinked. “Wait. Were you watching us?”

11 laughed again. “More than that. Look up.”

Everyone looked skyward.
11 stood above them with a sniper rifle, providing overwatch the entire time.
She landed smoothly.

“Captain!” the 30 series rushed toward her.

“No time for celebration,” 11 said firmly. “Another attack just hit the Aqua Frost housing district. We move now.”

Her eyes briefly met 19’s. She smirked.

The 30 series answered together, excited and proud. “Roger!”
They launched westward, leaving the older units behind.

12 through 19 stood still, drowning in jealousy and confusion.

E-UNIT Barrack. Frostholm. 10:00 am.

Back at the capital, the team returned from another successful mission.

Morale was at its highest point since the war began. Every E-UNIT felt it. The pressure, the exhaustion, the endless battles. All of it pushed them toward one shared thought. End this war with a single decisive strike.

The E-UNIT barracks were unusually calm that evening. Soft white lights reflected on metallic walls. Maintenance drones moved quietly between rooms. Some units were sitting, others standing still, running internal diagnostics.

That calm broke with three slow knocks.
The door opened carefully.
Minister of Defense Henry Vegas stepped inside.

The room froze.
Not because of his rank. The E-UNITs did not care about titles.
It was the visit itself. Unannounced. Unwanted.

“Sorry for interrupting your time,” Vegas began.

“What do you need.”
02 spoke without turning around. Her voice was flat. Cold.
“Your connection with us is through our creator.”

Vegas blinked. He stepped further inside, clearly confused.
“What did you just say?”

02 replied calmly, almost bored.
“I believe I was clear, Mister Vegas. You are not welcome in this room.”

He sat down slowly, trying to process what he had just heard.
“Do you realize who you are speaking to? You did not even turn to look at me—”

02 finally faced him.
She looked straight into his eyes.

“I am fully aware,” she said. “You are the man forcing military deployment on little girls, as you like to call us. You are also the one pushing a war against local forces.”

She took a step closer.

“You are continuing the work of your predecessor. The difference is that you now call it soft power. You address operational requests through Dr. Nick. That is the chain of command that prevents political misuse.”

His face drained of color.

“I…”

“We fought the enemy,” 02 continued. “We analyzed their strength. A country as wealthy and powerful as ours could end this war tomorrow. That is, if the higher authorities truly wanted to.”

She did not stop.
“We are not robots, Mister Vegas. We are free artificial intelligence in humanoid form. We think. We observe. We recognize patterns.”

Her eyes narrowed.
“Strengthening military power is not forbidden. But forcing your ambitions through lies and manipulation will never be tolerated.”

Vegas swallowed. His voice shook.
“Did you access classified information?”

02 let out a short laugh as she turned toward the exit.
“No. We simply asked a third party. Let’s say, the soldiers captured.”

She paused at the door.
“They said your enemies know more about you than you believe.”

She walked out.
One by one, her sisters followed.

03 stopped for a moment and glanced back. Her stare was sharp. Unforgiving.
Then she left.

The room was silent again.
Vegas remained seated.
Minutes passed.

He finally stood up and left the barracks, walking fast through the facility. His steps echoed against the metal floor. He passed his assistant.

“Follow me.”

They moved quickly to the highest level of the military base. Without knocking, they entered the sergeant’s office.

Vegas slammed the door.
“Start a secure call with General Silver and Minister Redwood. Now.”

The sergeant hesitated, then moved quickly with the assistant. The call connected. They exited the room immediately.

A screen lit up.
Silver spoke first, his voice tired.
“Another late-night call.”

Redwood adjusted his chair and leaned forward.
“If this line is secured, then this must be urgent.”

Vegas stared at the screen, his expression tight.
“It is,” he said. “We need to act. Fast. We need to end this.”

E-Police Department. Metromania. 11.10 pm.

By nightfall, the city finally calmed down.

Metromania never learned the full truth. Citizens only saw their heroes fighting strange medic robots painted in black. Videos spread across the net within minutes. Machines clashing, units falling, streets sealed by E-Police barriers. Conspiracies bloomed everywhere. People whispered about a hidden war, about secrets leaking from the Ministry of Defense, about something burning quietly beneath the city’s surface.

After hours of nonstop combat, 11 returned to the E-Police Department.

She had spent the entire day moving across districts, hunting Black Medics, escorting damaged units, and personally transporting the injured to repair bays. Robots did not feel exhaustion, but even they could be overwhelmed by constant pressure.

The department lights were dim and calm when she entered. The long corridors smelled of coolant and fresh metal.
Her team was waiting.

The 30 series rushed toward her the moment they saw her. They had already cleared their assigned mission and stood together near the entrance, alert and proud.

11 spoke immediately.
“Thank you for your support,” she said. “I could not ask for a better team. Even if you were only deployed recently, you are already the best this world has.”

Something warm stirred inside them.
A machine was not supposed to feel that.

“And we could never ask for a better captain,” 31 replied. “Your thinking and planning rival 02. I would not be surprised if you stand right behind her in command one day.”

“Thank you,” 11 said softly. She smiled, and the smile felt real.

“She cannot.”
The group turned toward the voice at the end of the corridor.
Shadows stretched across the floor as 19 stepped forward.

32 frowned. “What did you say?”

19’s voice was cold and sharp.
“She cannot be in command. She abandoned her sister without hesitation. And to this day, I have not heard a single apology. Did you ever understand why the captain was angry at you?”

“It does not matter,” 11 replied, her tone colder than before. “Those who cling to the past are the ones who refuse to let it die. You have brought that up three times now.”

“Interesting choice of words,” 19 shot back. “The one who died was 17. And the one responsible stand right in front of me without regret. Without remorse.”

11 crossed her arms.
“What if I do not regret it?”

The corridor fell silent.
19 froze. “What?”

“Seeing this side of you,” 11 continued, stepping closer, “I would do it again just to watch that ugly expression twist on your face. Would you like me to send you the HUD footage of 17’s destruction?”

31 tilted her head. “Ugly face? Aren’t we all identical?”

“You are sick,” 19 snapped, stepping back. “What is wrong with you?”

“That is my question,” 11 replied. She tapped 19’s chest lightly. “Why are you chasing me? You think I did not notice you after 02 spoke to me in the meeting hall?”

Her voice hardened.
“This is your final warning, 19. Step back. As you can see, I am not afraid to kill another E-UNIT.”

“No way,” 32 whispered.

“Oh my father,” 39 muttered.

11 turned away.
“If you want to report this, go ahead. At least 12 helped when 17 was destroyed. You only watched, acting superior, leaving meetings like your presence alone carried weight.”

She nodded to her team.
“Let’s go check on 38. The engineer said she will be repaired in three minutes.”

The 30 series followed her without a word.
They replayed every sentence in their processors. Every tone. Every glance.

The worst part was simple.
They did not feel she was wrong.
Somewhere deep within the system, 02’s greatest regret began to take root.

Behind them, 19 stood frozen.
For the first time, fear crept into her core.
Fear that the 30 series would follow their captain without hesitation.

After taking some steps, 32 poked 11 while walking beside her. “You are not serious.”

“Yes, I just said that so she leaves me alone for a bit.” 11 stated.

“She will not, as much as I hate to say it. Jealousy ate her up, during fights she kept glaring at you.”

“Let it be, then. We have bigger problems coming.”
She hated herself for saying it. But fear was a tool, and 19 wouldn’t stop otherwise.