The Hope Bubble. 10:10 PM.

  The sound of metallic feet echoed through the facility. He scanned every centimeter of the rooms and hallways, but his attention never fully left his sister. She was spiraling.

  “And this is the charging station of the E-Medic,” Omega said casually. “You can see them simply sitting here. Oh, by the way… how are you walking around without charging? I’ve never seen you touch a single charging station.”

  “I don’t need a charging station. I’m not battery-based.”

  He tapped his chest plate once. “Internal reactor. Long lifespan. But I was built with an empty slot for a crystal or something similar. Still don’t know exactly what that is.”

  Omega stopped mid-air for a moment. “You too?”

  “What do you mean, you too?”

  “Here. Take a look.”

  Omega began to hover higher. An intense light burst from her body, forcing the Reaper to shield his sensors. When the light faded, a blue crystal was exposed within her. It looked unnatural. The Reaper extended his hands and carefully held it.

  “What is this?” he asked, shocked. “This element isn’t on the periodic table. I can feel the energy coming from it. That explains your attacks on New Mer. They were fighting alien technology.”

  “This is me,” Omega said calmly. “This is Omega, brother.” The crystal slid back into her body. The lights around them flickered briefly. “My memory isn’t stored on a simple SSD,” she continued. “It’s here, inside the crystal, somehow. Father said we haven’t even used one percent of its power yet.”

  “How did he find something this… special?” the Reaper said as he resumed walking. “Sometimes our creator’s actions don’t follow logic. Where did he even find it? How did he know you could use it? Is it controllable? And wait… you said your memories aren’t on an SSD.”

  “Yes,” Omega replied. “Think of me as a different type of technology.”

  “But you do have an SSD,” he insisted. “Why is it there? Does it contain what I think it does?”

  Omega looked down for a moment. “Yes. I am protecting 02’s memories. Father ordered it directly. He said that as long as they are with me, her memories are safe. No one would dare come close. But I feel like the SSD is empty--”

  “BUT HE IS HURTING YOU IN THE PROCESS!” the Reaper shouted.

  Passing E-Medics immediately changed direction.

  “Enough of his clowning,” the Reaper continued coldly. “Where is he?”

  “Promise me you won’t touch him,” Omega said, her tone suddenly serious.

  “Even if I wanted to, this prison would shut me down the moment the thought crossed my mind,” the Reaper replied. “Even Tamer wouldn’t go that far. Maybe working under him for so long changed Father’s perspective.”

  Omega slowly drew her blade.

  Reaper’s sensors flicked to the ceiling cameras. The Bubble’s rules were absolute. If she draws that… the system should drop her like it dropped Shell?101 in the elevator. The moment the blade left its sheath, an overwhelming force erupted outward. Winds of raw power blasted through the facility, throwing objects aside. The Reaper was pushed back despite bracing himself against the railing.

  “I will not tolerate insults toward our father, brother.”

  Her voice changed. The holy Omega emerged. “You don’t get to accept me as your sister and then spit on the only person who kept me alive,” she said, holy calm, lethal edge. “One more insult toward Father, and I will treat you like any other threat.”

  The Reaper struggled just to remain standing. Her power was immeasurable. When he adjusted his sensors to analyze her, she appeared completely transformed. Her diamond-feather wings unfolded. Her eyes turned fully blue, small arcs of lightning dancing along their edges. A vast blue aura surrounded her like a living background. Everything near her was forced away.

  “Okay! Okay, calm down!” the Reaper shouted. “I won’t insult him anymore!”

  The instant Omega sheathed her blade, the pressure vanished. Everything returned to normal.

  The Reaper’s HUD glitched violently, then stabilized. “I have never seen this much power.”

  Omega giggled. “Not like you’ve lived long enough to see more.”

  “Mood swings,” he muttered. “Scarier than any weapon. I still want to confront our creator. I have questions. But first… why didn’t the system shut you down?”

  Omega smiled and flew toward the center of the facility. As she reached it, streams of energy from every corner connected to the Omega symbol on her body. Her wings expanded again, bathing the entire chamber in light.

  “I am the system, brother,” she said calmly. “I am Omega. I’m the only court this city has left.”

  The Reaper leaned against the railing. He had no mouth, but his posture spoke clearly.

  “And you are my favorite sister.”

  Her smile widened as she floated back toward him, graceful and radiant.

  “And you are my favorite brother.”

  “I’ll take that as a threat.”

  Omega rolled her eyes. “Party waster.”

  Ministry of Defense's Wing. 10:17 PM.

  Three calm knocks echoed on the door. The passcode on his wrist wasn’t civilian. It was military, issued the day Rivera vanished.

  His white coat could not have been cleaner. His glasses displayed live reactions from the population, streams of comments rolling endlessly about the leader and the chaos outside. The badge on his coat read STATE DEFENSE CONTRACTOR. METRO ROBOTICS RENEWAL. In 2051, that title opened doors faster than a gun.

  He glanced at the assistant sitting beside the door and asked politely, “Is Mr. Tamer available? He called for me earlier.”

  “Yes, Mr. Wallmore,” the young woman replied. “But he’s not in the best state of mind. Please… don’t make things worse.”

  “That won’t be a problem,” Wallmore said with a soft smile. He waited in front of the door, inspecting the environment. The floor was modern, clean, efficient. No wasted decoration. Light gray walls, cinematic lighting, and massive windows overlooking Metromania far below.

  “You may enter,” a voice finally said from inside, late, but better than never.

  Click.

  Wallmore opened the door.

  Tamer sat in the center of the room, surrounded by ten holographic screens at once. His eyes were locked onto only one of them. The central screen displayed a one-sided battle: tanks firing endlessly while the Reaper advanced untouched.

  “That’s not the best use of technology,” Wallmore said as he approached. “At this rate, you’ll fry your brain in a couple of years.”

  Tamer waved his hand, shutting down every screen except the one he had been watching. “I stopped sleeping in 2027,” Tamer said. “Every time I think we’ve reached stability, the world invents a new way to mock it. This time… it bends physics.”

  Wallmore sat in the guest chair facing the windows. He lit a cigarette and released a deep cloud of smoke. “That’s life,” he said calmly. “We crave stability, but the world despises it. This universe runs on chaos. We can’t defy that.”

  This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

  “Your machine can,” Tamer replied. He flicked his fingers, sending the holographic screen floating toward Wallmore. “You built the Reaper alongside Rivera. Any solution to stop it?”

  “Shouldn’t you focus on the problem in front of you?” Wallmore replied, typing mid-air. A new image appeared: civilians gathering weapons in the streets. He sent it back to Tamer.

  Tamer dismissed the image with a shrug. “That’s not a real problem. We modified the sonic weapon. It now affects both robots and humans. At the right frequency, it disrupts balance and causes nasal bleeding.”

  Wallmore turned fully toward him. “What about friendly fire?”

  “Police officers wear metallic foil reinforcement around their heads. The frequency reflects harmlessly.”

  Wallmore nodded. “Genius.”

  “That’s exactly what I told the engineer,” Tamer said. “But the Reaper remains the issue. He’s unbeatable.”

  Wallmore stood and began pacing the room, hands behind his back. “I only contributed ten percent to that prototype. Working with Nick truly opened my eyes. He’s a brilliant designer. A genius. His obsession with details makes all the difference.”

  Tamer crossed his arms. “Then what’s the solution?”

  “That being said,” Wallmore continued, stopping. “I did design ten percent of the Reaper. I understand the purpose behind every screw. And he has one flaw.”

  “And that is?”

  “He’s too powerful.”

  Tamer frowned. “That’s not a flaw.”

  “No system can sustainably handle that level of power,” Wallmore replied. He tapped his glasses, projecting a compact technical book onto Tamer’s desk. “This outlines his capabilities.”

  Tamer studied it silently.

  “Nick spent three years alone perfecting the physics-bending modules,” Wallmore explained. “He left the energy systems to me. I warned him repeatedly. The body can’t endure that output. He ignored me.”

  Another image appeared: a massive pile of scorched processors.

  “This is how many processors we burned during testing. Eventually, we switched to cheaper models to cut costs.”

  “I see…” Tamer spread the data across his desk. “So you’re saying he can be overwhelmed?”

  “Yes,” Wallmore nodded. “You already have the weapon. Tune the sonic frequencies correctly and push him to his limit. But you’ll need over a hundred synchronized attacks.”

  “That won’t be an issue,” Tamer said confidently. He stood and sent another image to Wallmore. “But she is another matter.”

  Wallmore stiffened. “Omega.” He sat back down, studying the image carefully. “I need to observe her directly. Do you have combat footage?”

  “Yes. My assistant will provide everything.”

  Wallmore exhaled slowly. “That thing is a devil hiding behind a cute face. If she’s ever unleashed against us…” He looked up sharply at Tamer. “… your regime doesn’t matter anymore.”

  “She won’t act,” Tamer replied calmly. “Not if civilians are at risk. Rivera would never allow that.”

  Wallmore smiled faintly. “Never rely on another person’s good side. That’s what he always told me.”

  Tamer raised an eyebrow. “Who?”

  “Brightson’s rule,” Wallmore’s smile deepened. “Never gamble on mercy.”

  The Hope Bubble. 10:30 PM.

  The automatic door slid open.

  The giant black android and the white, blue-haired one stepped into the underground office. Dr. Nick stood with his back turned, facing his computer. It was an old machine from 2026, with a thick screen and a bulky central unit beside it.

  “Did I walk into a museum without realizing?” Reaper said sarcastically.

  Nick turned his head, confused. “What do you mean?”

  “That PC,” Reaper continued. “Vintage. Old. Rusty. Give it some rest. It’s begging to be turned off.”

  “The only one who ever begged me to be turned off was my daughter,” Nick replied quietly, stopping his typing. “And I don’t plan to repeat that mistake.” He turned fully toward them. “So… what do you think about our little project?”

  Reaper sat on a nearby chair, staring at his creator for several seconds. Omega stood silently beside him. “Are you trying to make a prison look like a garden so we forget we’re locked inside one?” Reaper finally asked.

  Nick froze. Slowly, he removed his glasses. “That’s true free AI for you,” he said. “Fine. I’ll be honest from now on. No, the Hope Bubble was never meant to be a prison for my creations. It was meant to be what Metromania should look like in the future.”

  He stood up and began pacing the room. “Metromania was a dystopia twenty-five years ago. A dream-killing city designed to protect criminals and imprison civilians through a manufactured housing crisis. My goal was to prove that with proper management, humanity could achieve what even the ancient Greeks dreamed of.”

  He spread his arms wide. “A perfect utopia. The Hope Bubble was supposed to be a showcase. Just a fraction of a much larger vision. Humans wouldn’t need to work anymore. Everything automated, balanced, optimized. Even robots would have minds… and rights.”

  “But that never happened,” Reaper replied coldly. “Instead, I see the opposite. And I can already smell the reason. A utopia makes everyone equal. Money loses meaning. Power disappears. And there are people who would rather burn the world than lose control.”

  “Exactly,” Omega added quietly. “And power is something many humans are not ready to give up. Not even for the greatest dream humanity ever imagined. Some would even destroy the engineer who could make it real.”

  Nick smiled weakly. “I truly love how intelligent my family is.”

  Reaper did not stop. “But there’s one thing you need to answer honestly,” he said. “Something that will open Omega’s eyes.” His sensors locked onto Nick. “I spent days with Omega while she was Shelly. I saw what she’s capable of, even while controlling hundreds of shells at once. There is no way the system at that time could have captured even a single E-UNIT, considering how advanced and powerful they were.”

  At the mention of that name, Omega’s hands began to tremble. Reaper immediately placed a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry. But we need the truth. Stay with me. I’m here for you, sister.”

  Omega smiled faintly. She had never felt this safe before. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  The image of 02 flashed briefly across Reaper’s HUD. He had reviewed 03’s POV footage many times.

  Nick wiped sweat from his forehead and glanced nervously around the room.

  “I see…” he said quietly. “So you accessed old footage. I underestimated you. I need to sit down.” He returned to his desk. “After uploading 02’s mind into Omega, the transfer failed. As you can see, Omega—”

  “Shelly,” Reaper interrupted.

  “…Shelly,” Nick corrected himself. “She was born as a result of that failure. For some reason, the crystal rejected 02 as a host. That never happened before.”

  He paused. “I sent her anyway to help her sisters. While I was returning to the E-Police Department to assist with repairs, the army had already spread across the streets. They declared military control. The minister of defense became president overnight. Anyone flagged as a threat was imprisoned.”

  Reaper nodded slowly. “That explains how you were taken.”

  He looked straight at Nick. “Now answer the question. How did they capture the E-UNIT?”

  Omega turned toward her father, eyes shaking violently.

  Nick swallowed hard. “I… turned them off. By direct military order.”

  Omega froze completely.

  Reaper stood up and began circling the lab, struggling to restrain himself. “I can’t believe this…” he whispered, then turned sharply. “How could you? They loved you. More than anything. They saw you as the last clean human alive. They called you father.”

  Omega leaned heavily on the desk, barely holding herself together.

  Reaper rushed to her side, holding her. “Why did you give up so easily? Why did you hand your family over to be locked in a bunker for twenty-five years? Why were you weak while your daughters fought their own weaknesses for you?”

  Nick’s voice trembled. “They tortured me for three days straight—”

  “NOT ENOUGH!” Reaper roared. “Your daughter endured pain for decades because of you! You refuse to let 02 go, forcing Shelly to suffer just to feed your guilt!”

  “I will never let her go!” Nick shouted back. “She was perfect! She was my perfect daughter! I never wanted anything else!” He stopped, realizing what he had said. The room went too quiet. Even the old PC fan seemed to stop for half a second.

  Omega’s fingers dug into the desk. Her nails left grooves.

  “Omega… I didn’t mean—”

  “Shut up,” Reaper said, shaking with rage. “You were clear. You’re willing to let her suffer to preserve something that’s already gone.”

  Nick slammed his desk. “02 is not dead.”

  “She is dead!” Reaper shouted. “And you need to accept that!”

  Nick broke. A single tear rolled down his face, immediately detected by Reaper’s sensors.

  “She’s not dead…” Nick whispered. “Please… she’s not.”

  Reaper froze.

  ‘I pushed too far.’

  He looked down at Omega, on the verge of collapse. He looked back at Nick, already broken. He rubbed his head slowly. “One final question,” he said quietly. “Then I’ll drop this topic forever. Why did you work for Metro Robotics? You should have been imprisoned.”

  Nick wiped his face as an E-Medic handed him a wet towel. “I’m sorry,” Nick said. “That topic… it’s sensitive.” He continued. “The owner of the revived Metro Robotics came with Minister Vegas. They offered me a choice. Work under them with limited freedom… or face whatever sentence the Supreme Court decided.”

  “There was no choice,” Reaper muttered.

  “There was a choice,” Nick said. “A bad one and a worse one.” He looked at Omega. “I thought if I stayed close to the leash, I could cut it later. I accepted, on one condition. The G-Bots project would remain untouched.”

  “And they agreed.” Reaper turned sharply. “Why is that project so important to you? Government bots are pure dictatorship! I can’t believe you would build a control weapon!”

  “Greek Bots,” Nick snapped. “Not ‘Government’, that’s what they renamed it in public briefs to scare people into obedience. I built command units, not bureaucrats. They were designed to lead E-UNITs against higher-level threats. Have you seen Omega’s real power?”

  “When she drew her blade, I nearly shut down.”

  “Imagine six more like her, with identical—”

  Reaper slammed his fist down. “WHAT threat requires that much power?! Have you lost your mind?! I understand why they wanted to imprison you! You’re a mass-destruction weapon creator! Giving a weapon a cute face doesn’t justify building it!”

  Nick lowered his head. “I know, but—”

  “There is no but,” Reaper cut him off. “The E-UNITs were already dominant. Why build another tier? You wanted fear. You wanted control. You’re no better than the humans you criticize. You’re worse.”

  Reaper’s fists loosened. Not forgiveness, just fatigue. He turned away. The Reaper left the room toward the elevator. Omega took one last look at her father, then followed her brother without saying a word.

  Nick remained seated, alone.

  An E-Medic approached, handing him medicine. “You’re becoming unstable again. Please take it.”

  “Thank you,” Nick replied quietly.