x
As Evan and Robot Buddy stepped out of the simulation room, the savory scent of sizzling meat drifted down the corridor, hooking them instantly.
"Mmm, you smell that?" Evan asked, sniffing the air like a bloodhound.
Robot Buddy twirled midair with a gleeful hum, spinning like a top. "Ooooo, what's cookin', good lookin'?!" it sang as it zipped ahead toward the kitchen.
Kyra stood at the counter, focused but smiling as she turned over a tray of golden-brown empanadas. "Hey, tin can," she greeted without looking up. "Beef and chicken empanadas. And before you ask, no, I'm not making you a synthetic version."
"A travesty!" Robot Buddy gasped, hand over its chest plate. "My circuits are wounded."
Evan's stomach growled in response, loud enough to make them all pause.
"Damn, babe," Kyra said, raising an eyebrow. "Did you eat at all today?"
"Does punching simulated agents count?" Evan replied, flopping into a chair. "I'm starving. That training session damn near killed me."
"You make any progress in there?" Kyra asked
Evan leaned back, hands behind his head. "Yeah, I think I'm finally starting to get the rhythm down. Reaction time's better. Movements feel smoother."
Kyra joined them at the table, drying her hands on a towel. "Feeling more confident about Clarks little super minion, then?"
Evan nodded, eyes sharp now. "Yeah. I'm not gonna lie-those simulations kicked my ass at first. But I've been upgrading myself little by little. I've added super speed, super strength, the ability to survive in any climate. I can fly now-teleport too-without even needing to say a word. And I've uploaded pretty much every martial art known on Earth into my brain."
Kyra gave a low whistle. "Yikes. So basically, Bruce Lee if he were built by NASA."
Evan smirked. "Exactly. I figured if I'm gonna fight agents that break reality, I need to be just as broken."
"And you still think you can take him?" Kyra asked, only half-joking.
"I don't have much of a choice, do I?" Evan replied, then shrugged. "I mean, it's not like I'm getting my ass kicked anymore. I actually beat the agent in a sim. But the moment I did, those interdimensional things started draining me like a battery. Still no clue how to deal with them."
Kyra reached across the table and gave his hand a squeeze. "Well, whatever they throw at you-we've got your back. Always."
Evan looked at her, a flicker of gratitude passing through his expression. "Thanks, Babe. That actually means more than you know."
"Well," she said, getting up with a grin, "if you want to keep your strength up, I'd suggest grabbing a plate before Robot Buddy eats it all."
"I heard that!" the robot called, already hovering over the empanadas like a vulture.
Evan chuckled, shaking his head. "Alright, alright. Let's fuel up."
As dinner settled into quiet conversation, the mood gradually shifted. Plates still clinked, but something heavier stirred beneath the surface. Robot Buddy, hovering just above the table, dimmed its lights and spoke in a rare, serious tone.
"I have news," it said flatly. "It's about the Mazekielites."
The table went still.
"What kind of news?" Kyra asked, her fork pausing mid-air.
Robot Buddy's eyes flickered. "Based on a memory fragment I extracted from Agent Clark, I've calculated their estimated arrival. We've got forty-five days-maybe less-before they make their move."
A heavy silence dropped over the room.
"Forty-five days?" Evan repeated, setting his fork down with a sharp clink. "That's not enough time. Do we even know what they're planning?"
Robot Buddy shook its head. "No. Clark's just a puppet. He was never given the full scope. We only have puzzle pieces."
Kyra leaned forward, tension lining her brow. "So what do we do? Wait and hope the rest shows up?"
"I think we need a recon mission," Robot Buddy said, without flinching. "There's a facility-remote, buried beneath a mountain range. I've seen it in his memories. There may be answers there."
Evan blinked. "A recon mission? Are you serious? That's suicide. We don't even know what's waiting for us in there."
"Exactly," Kyra muttered, crossing her arms. "We sneak into some secret lab and what-pray they don't have motion sensors? What happens when we get caught? You think they're going to let us walk out?"
Robot Buddy's lens adjusted, then projected a 3D model of the facility in midair. Long corridors, guard rotations, pressure sensors. "I understand the risk. But if we don't act, we walk into this war blind. With Evan's teleportation, we stay mobile. We're not going in to fight-we're going in to learn."
Evan rubbed his hands together, thinking. "And what if it's a trap? Or worse-what if we get cornered and can't teleport out in time?"
Kyra sighed. "I don't like it. I don't like any of this. We've come too far to die chasing shadows."
"I get it," Robot Buddy said calmly. "But every minute we sit here is a minute they're preparing. You're not walking into this alone. You'll have me, and Evan. Three minds. Three skill sets. One objective."
Kyra glanced down, processing. "Even if we pull this off, what happens if the data we find is encrypted or worthless?"
"Then we try again," Robot Buddy said. "Or we prepare better. But walking into battle blind isn't an option."
Evan looked to Kyra, and she met his eyes-hers were tight with fear, but not weakness.
"I don't want to lose you," she said softly. "Either of you."
"We won't let that happen," Robot Buddy replied.
Kyra let out a slow breath. "If we're doing this, we need to plan it down to the second. No hero moves. No bullshit. We go in. We get out."
"Exactly," Evan said. "Calculated risk. No room for error."
Robot Buddy hovered a little closer. "You're both incredibly capable. But I won't sugarcoat it-this will be dangerous. Still... it could give us the edge we need to stop whatever's coming."
Kyra stood, pushing her chair back. "Then let's do it. We play it smart, we don't rush anything, and if it feels off, we pull out."
Evan rose with her. "Agreed. If we're going in, we're doing it together. And we're coming out."
"Good," Robot Buddy said with a flick of light across its visor. "Then let's get to work."
The underground base buzzed with low, electric hums, the kind that settled deep in your chest like a warning. Fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting a pale glow over the metallic walls. The air was cold, sterile, and carried the sharp scent of coolant and ionized steel-no windows, no sun, just machines and tension.
Robot Buddy zipped around them, collecting gear at breakneck speed. Its mechanical arms worked with surgical precision, loading weapons, gadgets, and emergency supplies into a compact black duffel. "Telemetry synced. Surveillance suppressed for at least twenty minutes. This is our shot," it said, its usual playfulness absent.
Evan stood by the locker, adjusting the sleeves of his suit. He looked up at Kyra, his expression stone-serious. "If we're going to pull this off, you need to be ready for anything. What do you need most right now?"
Kyra crossed her arms, tension pulling at her brows. "A miracle." She let out a breath. "But realistically? If I knew how to shoot, I wouldn't feel so exposed. I mean, we don't have time to train for hours, right?"
Evan nodded slowly, already formulating a solution. "What if I gave you the skill? Right now. Muscle memory, instincts, the whole package."
Kyra blinked, then squinted at him skeptically. "You can do that?"
He smirked slightly. "You've seen what I can do. I've given myself flight, strength, speed. Aiming comes with the territory."
Kyra hesitated, then exhaled. "Alright. Just don't turn me into a gun-crazy lunatic."
"Only if you ask nicely," Evan said with a wink, stepping closer. "Close your eyes."
Kyra did. Evan's hands lit with a crackle of blue energy-raw, focused power dancing over his fingers. He placed them lightly on her temples.
"Confidence is key," he murmured.
The moment the energy surged into her, Kyra gasped. It wasn't pain-it was clarity. Instincts she'd never learned suddenly clicked into place. She could feel the weight of every gun she'd never held. The recoil. The rhythm. The way to breathe just right before pulling the trigger. She opened her eyes, breath shaky but steady.
"Holy shit," she whispered. "I know how to shoot."
Evan grinned. "Told you."
He raised a hand again and with a simple command-"Guns"-an array of weapons manifested around them. Rifles, pistols, silencers, all matte black and streamlined for efficiency. One in particular floated toward Kyra-a tactical rifle, perfectly weighted and humming with compact power.
Kyra caught it with practiced ease, inspecting it like she was born to wield it. "Damn," she said. "It even feels right."
Robot Buddy zipped over, holding a small screen. "Hate to interrupt the romance novel, but our window is shrinking."
Evan and Kyra exchanged a final look.
"Ready?" he asked.
Kyra nodded, voice calm and sure. "Let's go."
Evan focused. The air around them shimmered, then twisted-light bending unnaturally as space warped. With a sharp pop, the world blinked out.
When it reformed, they were standing inside the enemy's base-dim, vast, and alive with danger.
"Whoa..." Kyra whispered, her voice barely audible as she stepped into the corridor. The facility stretched far in every direction-towers of servers blinked with glowing lights, wires snaked across the floor like vines, and alien machinery pulsed with an eerie, rhythmic thrum. Holographic blueprints hovered in the air, flickering with encrypted code and schematics that looked decades beyond Earth's tech.
"Shit," Evan muttered, sweeping the area with narrowed eyes. "This place is huge."
"Okay," he said, shifting into focus. "We find the control room first. Figure out what kind of operation we're dealing with."
Robot Buddy zipped ahead, his projection lens flickering to life. A detailed 3D map appeared in midair, rotating slowly. "Control room's on the second level," he said. "But there's a security checkpoint between here and there. And guards-lots of them."
Kyra cracked her knuckles and gave a nod, her voice low and firm. "Then we move like shadows. No noise, no mess. I've got this."
Evan met her eyes, his jaw tight. "We're not heroes here-we're ghosts. We see trouble, we vanish. Agreed?"
"Agreed," she said.
Robot Buddy dimmed his glow. "Let's move. Time's against us. There should be a vent shaft ahead that leads to the control room."
They moved down the corridor in silence, the buzz of machines mingling with their soft footsteps. Evan's heart pounded against his ribcage-not from fear, but from adrenaline. Every corner they turned, every door they passed, could be the one with a soldier on the other side.
As they rounded a bend, the corridor narrowed into a high-tech research wing. Rows of labs lined the walls. Through a glass panel, they glimpsed a grotesque alien suspended in a fluid tank, wires piercing its limbs, its single milky eye twitching as if in pain. Nearby, a hovering tablet recorded data in symbols Evan couldn't decipher.
"What the hell are they building down here?" Kyra muttered under her breath.
Evan didn't answer.
Robot Buddy clicked softly. "There's something big at play. Whatever it is, it's not just tech-they're tampering with biology, weaponizing it."
Before they could dwell on it, footsteps echoed from around the corner.
"Down!" Evan hissed, grabbing Kyra's arm and pulling her behind a massive generator humming with static.
The footsteps got louder. Boots on steel. Two voices-calm, laughing.
"...I'm telling you, man, you do not want to be here when those aliens show up. You thought last time was bad? Just wait till they find out we lost half of M63."
"You're shittin' me, right? How the fuck did that even happen?"
"No clue. Either Agent Clark's slipping, or they underestimated the guy. Honestly? Might've been a blessing. We're barely able to contain half of it now-and that's after it got absorbed into a physical host."
"Absorbed?"
"Yeah, dude. Agent Simmons touched it at the exact same time as that other guy we were tracking. Ended up splitting the energy. Simmons got half the power."
"Fuckin' hell... Simmons? Out of everyone? Isn't he that ex-Navy SEAL who went rogue?"
"Yup. Serial rapist. Killer. Real psycho. But the agency saw potential, so they cut him a deal-three life sentences off the table if he worked for us. Assassin contract."
"Jesus. That's fucked."
"Tell me about it. And now he's juiced up with cosmic power we barely understand. They had to induce a coma just to keep him stable. Every time they try to wake him up for an op, he starts warping reality before he's even fully conscious."
"No fuckin' way..."
"I'm serious. The kind of power he puts out just existing... it's enough to vaporize a goddamn state."
"Shit. How many megatons are we talking?"
"Hard to say. Whatever the number is-it ain't survivable."
The first guy chuckled low under his breath. "If it were me who got that power? Shit-I'd be in another universe gettin' some alien pussy."
There was a pause. Then-
"You're fuckin' weird, dude."
Evan held his breath, Kyra crouched tight beside him. Her grip tightened around her rifle, finger hovering near the trigger.
The guards stopped on the other side of the generator-just inches away.
"...still don't know why they brought in another subject. Last one barely lasted six hours before it disintegrated. They can hardly contain the power, let alone transfer it."
"Orders from upstairs. Something about 'dimensional frequency thresholds. Trying to transfer the power into multiple hosts, making it easier to contain.' I don't ask anymore. Just log the hours and shut the hell up."
Kyra's knee shifted against the panel-just a click. Barely audible.
The talking stopped.
"You hear that?"
Both guards froze.
Evan acted fast. His eyes flashed with energy. With a sharp inhale, he extended his hand over Kyra and Robot Buddy. A transparent veil shimmered over them-distorting the air like heat on pavement.
The guards stepped closer, flashlights clicking on. One of them swept his beam across the floor, then paused. "Swear to God, I heard something."
The other shrugged. "You're getting jumpy again. Paranoia's a bitch down here."
They waited another agonizing second... then moved on, boots echoing into the distance.
Kyra exhaled slowly, eyes wide. "That was way too close."
"I know," Evan whispered, pulse still racing. His hand trembled slightly as the cloak faded from around them. "Next time you shift your foot, I'm duct-taping your legs together."
Kyra elbowed him gently. "That was your power surge, not me."
"Still blaming you," Evan muttered with a grin, though the tension clung to his shoulders. "Did you hear what they said? Agent Simmons... he's the one that got half the M63 energy?"
Kyra nodded slowly, her brows drawn tight. "Ex-Navy SEAL turned serial killer. They gave that monster powers just to use him as a fucking assassin?"
"They didn't give him powers," Evan said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "He absorbed it on accident-like me. Half of it. That means..." He swallowed hard. "That means he's basically me... but twisted."
"Shit," Kyra breathed. "And they kept him in a coma just so he wouldn't melt the planet? Why the hell would they ever wake him up?"
"They're trying to weaponize the power," Evan said, more to himself than her. "And it sounds like they're attempting to split it. Transfer it. Like, it's just another tool." He clenched his jaw. "That would violate the Mazekielite treaty. If they find out..."
"It could trigger a war," Kyra finished, horrified.
Evan stared down the corridor, voice low. "The Mazekielites were right. We run on greed. We don't deserve this power. We can't be trusted."
Robot Buddy hovered closer, whispering with a hum. "And that dude talking about using godlike power to chase alien ass? Bro better bring a cosmic rubber. Intergalactic syphilis isn't in my database, but I don't recommend finding out."
Kyra snorted quietly, covering her mouth.
Evan let out a breathy laugh. "Not the time, man."
Robot Buddy shrugged. "Humor is a scientifically proven method to reduce stress before imminent death."
Evan cracked a half-smile, then pointed toward a small hatch ahead. "Control room's up there. You said there's a vent shaft?"
"Yeah," Robot Buddy said. "Tight fit, but it'll bypass the main checkpoint."
Evan glanced at the narrow vent, then at Kyra. "Ladies first."
Kyra arched a brow. "Is chivalry truly dead?"
"Not yet," Evan said with a grin. In one fluid motion, he scooped her up with his super strength, grabbed Robot Buddy with his free hand, and zipped them all into the shaft in a blur of super speed.
They landed with a soft thud on the other side, Kyra stumbling slightly before catching her breath. Her hair was a frizzy mess, and she looked like she'd just been through a wind tunnel.
"A little warning next time, speedster," she huffed, trying to smooth her hair.
"That was awesome," Robot Buddy chirped. "Can we do it again? I think I saw my own bolts rearrange mid-air!"
Kyra shot him a look. "Why can't you just teleport us next time instead of turning me into a human slingshot?"
Evan answered before Robot Buddy could. "Because we're not working with live visuals. Buddy's got static scans of the base-no real-time updates."
Robot Buddy nodded, a little more serious. "Exactly. If we teleport blind, we might land in a room crawling with agents-or worse. We're playing it smart, not fast."
Kyra sighed and rolled her eyes. "Fine. But next time, I'm wearing a helmet."
The dim hallway hummed with electricity as Robot Buddy hovered by the reinforced security door. Cables slithered from its arms and connected with the wall terminal, digits flickering across its screen like frantic heartbeat lines.
Connecting to the badge scanner, robot buddy said, "I'm scanning the deeper system now," it muttered, voice hushed. "This should give us a clearer layout."
Evan stood watch beside Kyra, heart pounding. The air was colder here-cleaner, but sterile and dead. This wasn't just another government facility. This was a vault of secrets. Alien secrets. Dangerous ones.
A low ping echoed as Robot Buddy's eyes brightened. "Got it. There's a data vault two levels down. But..." it hesitated. "There are about thirty agents between here and that room. All active. We walk in as ourselves, we're screwed."
Kyra's eyes narrowed. "So what's the plan?"
Robot Buddy turned toward Evan. "We need a disguise. You've shapeshifted Kyra before. You need to become Agent Clark."
Evan stiffened. "Clark?"
"Yep," Robot Buddy said, almost cheerfully. "Walk in like you own the place. Mean face, no jokes, god-complex energy. I'll turn into handcuffs. Kyra's your prisoner. There's a holding cell directly across from the vault-use it as cover."
Kyra frowned. "Why am I the one who gets to stay herself? Why don't I get to turn into something cool?"
Robot Buddy swiveled in the air. "Because someone needs to play the damsel in distress with rage issues and perfect cheekbones. And I don't have cheekbones."
Kyra blinked, then snorted. "Okay, fair."
Evan inhaled, rolling his shoulders as his skin rippled and cracked, his body morphing with sharp jerks and sizzling shifts until he stood fully formed as Agent Clark-square jaw, cold stare, and that constant simmering contempt in his eyes.
"I fucking hate this guy," he muttered.
"Good," Kyra said. "Channel that."
Robot Buddy twisted and compressed, reshaping with a metallic clatter into sleek, high-security handcuffs that locked tightly around Kyra's wrists. She tugged at them and grimaced. "Ow. You didn't need to make it that tight."
"Realism," Robot Buddy's voice whispered from the cuffs. "Also, payback for calling me 'tin can' yesterday."
Evan-now Clark-grabbed Kyra by the arm, after robot, buddy hacked the badge scanner opening the door, and walked through like he'd been born in the base.
Inside, the agents looked up from glowing terminals and wall displays. Conversations stopped. Eyebrows raised.
One of them-a guy with a buzzcut and faded scar across his jaw-tilted his head. "Holy shit. You found them?"
Evan sneered. "Just this one," he said, shoving Kyra forward like she was trash.
She stumbled, glared at him, then caught herself. "Bro. Chill-"
"I SAID SHUT UP, YOU FAT, USELESS WHORE," Evan barked, playing the role. His voice echoed, sharp and venomous. "God, even your fucking voice makes me want to throw up. What are you, a pile of mistakes stacked on two feet?"
Kyra blinked, her lips twitching in surprise but then played her role. "...fuck you, shrimp dick!."
A few agents chuckled. One even said, "Damn. I'm surprised you didn't kill her, Clark."
Evan snapped his fingers. "Oh, I will. But first, I'm using her as bait. Big, loud, desperate bait. The kind that brings Evan running straight into our trap. Then I'm gonna slit her throat and send her soul back to wherever failures go."
Kyra stared at him in shock. Evan didn't meet her eyes.
Behind his back, Robot Buddy's cuffs loosened just slightly, then a shimmer of movement as a tiny robotic fly detached and zipped towards evan's ear before flying to the far wall of servers.
In Evan's ear, Robot Buddy whispered, "Buy me two minutes. I'm in goin' in."
Evan turned to the closest agent. "What's the sitrep?"
"We're still locking down M63 transfer protocols. The last attempt almost fried the whole quadrant."
Another agent leaned back. "Word is they're trying to split the power into multiple hosts. Heard some higher-ups think they can tame it, use it like a battery."
"That's suicide," Evan muttered darkly, staying in character.
One of the younger agents shrugged. "Mazekielites are gonna lose their shit if they find out. That kind of breach would violate the pact. Could start a full war."
Evan gritted his teeth. "Good. Let it. We run on power. They should have never trusted us anyway."
Another agent piped up with a crooked grin, "If I had M63, I'd be in another universe, gettin' some of that alien pussy."
"Dude, we get it.," his partner said.
"Better pack a cosmic rubber," Kyra murmured.
Evan nearly choked.
Evan clenched his jaw, fighting the urge to smirk. He turned sharply toward the grinning agent, channeling every ounce of Clark's disdain. "You're thinking with your dick again. Keep it up, and you'll be the next test subject."
The agent immediately straightened, his grin fading. "Yes, sir."
Kyra shifted beside him, her expression locked in a perfect mix of boredom and rage-an unspoken agreement between her and Evan to not make eye contact unless she wanted to blow their cover with a laugh or a glare.
Evan took a step forward, peering over the central workstation, buying Robot Buddy time. Dozens of screens displayed blueprints, alien schematics, and one live feed looping footage of the M63 test chamber-currently locked down.
One minute, Robot Buddy whispered.
Evan nodded absently and played the part. "Where's the update on subject containment?"
A bald agent with a gold implant along his temple looked up. "Subject NX4 is still in coma-state, sir. But the neural tension is increasing. If we push too hard-"
"Then don't push," Evan snapped. "Not until I say."
The bald agent recoiled. "Understood."
More time passed. Every second felt like a rope tightening around Evan's throat. Then-
"Got it. Sending path to your neural feed now. I've hacked the firewall and extracted a ghost trace of all classified movements for the last forty-eight hours. I know where the files are hidden-and more importantly, I know what they're hiding."
Evan didn't flinch. "Im Preping this one for the cell," he barked, yanking Kyra's arm.
"You better put me in the cell.Or I'd rip your balls off with my bare fucking hands" Kyra yelled back
They passed the agents, and one of them muttered as they walked by, "Man, that chick's got balls mouthing off to Clark like that."
Another replied, "He likes 'em mouthy. So he can shut 'em up harder."
Kyra's lip twitched, but she stayed silent.
Evan led her to the far corridor, the cell door right across from the vault entrance Robot Buddy had tagged. No guards. No surveillance cams in this spot-thankfully.
As soon as the door slid closed behind them, Kyra broke character. "Jesus. I was one fat joke away from punching you in the nuts."
"Sorry," Evan said quickly, his voice back to normal. "You wanted realism."
She rolled her eyes. "Next time, dial it down to mildly traumatizing."
The cuffs around her wrists clicked and detached. Robot Buddy dropped to the floor, transformed mid-fall, and expanded back into his spherical body.
"Good news," he said, his mechanical eyes flashing. "The files are in a secure vault right next door. But not just any files. They've been trying to recreate the M63 energy using test subjects."
Evan's stomach sank. "Test subjects?"
"Prisoners. Civilians. Even some of their own agents. And one of them-Subject 9X7-is the guy we heard about. Ex-Navy SEAL turned serial killer. Who accidentally split M63 between him and you."
Kyra rubbed her wrists. "And he got half?"
"Worse," Robot Buddy said. "He got the destructive half."
There was a silence as that settled.
"They've been trying to transfer it into other people," Robot Buddy continued. "Trying to break it into controllable pieces. But if the Mazekielites find out they're tampering with it..."
"They'll declare war," Evan finished grimly. "And they'll be right to."
Robot Buddy nodded. "If we're caught in here with this intel, it won't just be us getting executed. They'll erase the entire base just to cover it up."
Evan's jaw clenched. "Then let's get what we came for. Fast."
Robot Buddy hovered toward the vault's door. "This one's triple-locked. It'll take time."
"You've got five minutes," Evan said, glancing at Kyra. "We'll hold position."
She nodded and loaded her rifle. "Time me."
A little over five minutes passed, and they heard clicking of the door as it swung open.
As they slipped into the next room, the stench hit them first.
It wasn't blood or decay-it was something far worse. Sterile, metallic, but underneath it, the rot of something that had once been alive. Kyra gagged and turned away, clutching her stomach.
While they were in the next room full of horror, the real Agent Clark walked in the control room.
Every agent in the room froze.
One of them blinked. "Sir? Weren't you just here?"
Clark narrowed his eyes. "What?"
Another agent laughed nervously. "Did you lose the girl already? We thought you brought her in."
Clark's face darkened. "What girl?"
"The prisoner. The one you dragged in-Kyra. Said you were using her as bait."
Clark's jaw twitched. "I didn't bring anyone in."
The agents exchanged tense looks. One of them, slower than the rest, pieced it together. "Wait... then who the hell did we just let into the experiment wing?"
Clark's silence said everything.
Another agent reached for the security console. "Should I sound the alarm?"
Clark raised a hand, eyes locked on the monitor feed.
"No," he said coldly. "Let's give our guests a little surprise."
He stepped toward the control panel, fingers dancing across keys with unnerving familiarity.
"Release Experiment G78."
Alarms stayed silent.
But deep below the facility, something massive stirred.
The lights flickered once. Then again.
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