The hum of late-shift chatter and ringing phones inside Edgeport's central precinct cut off in an instant. The front doors shuddered as a black silhouette stepped through, heavy footfalls echoing against the tiled floor. Officers froze mid-sentence, mid-paperwork, mid-coffee sip.
Black Signal stood in the center of the lobby, his obsidian frame gleaming under the fluorescent lights, crimson optics scanning the room.
For a heartbeat, no one moved. Then his voice—cold, mechanical, amplified—rolled through the station like thunder:
"Your services are no longer required."
Gasps rippled. A few hands twitched toward sidearms, but the weight of his presence pinned them where they stood.
"The methods you cling to—arrests, courts, prisons—are flawed. They allow corruption to fester, repeat offenders to thrive, and justice to rot. This city has suffered long enough under your inefficiency."
He raised a hand, energy humming at his palm. A light fixture sparked overhead, showering glass on the tile. Officers ducked. Silence deepened.
"Leave now. You are relieved of duty. Black Signal is the only law enforcement this city requires." His optics flared red, sweeping across the rows of stunned officers. "Stay, and you will be classified as obstructing justice. And obstruction… is a crime."
A sergeant at the back muttered a curse, but his feet carried him toward the exit with the others. One by one, uniforms peeled away, fear and disbelief etched on their faces. Radios crackled uselessly on abandoned desks.
The lobby emptied until only Black Signal remained, the glow of his optics burning against the wall of duty plaques and commendations.
"From this day forward," he declared, his voice booming through the deserted precinct, "I am the law of Edgeport. And lawbreakers will be sentenced to death."
The sound of his metallic steps filled the hollowed-out station as he turned and walked deeper into the city.
The last of the officers filed out, their boots clattering across the tile until silence consumed the precinct. Only Joshua remained. His heart hammered, but his hand was steady as he drew his service weapon and stepped into the center of the lobby.
"Stop right there."
Black Signal turned, optics glowing red in the dim light. His voice rolled like a verdict being read:
"Detective Cross. You are obstructing justice."
Joshua raised his gun higher, feet planted firm. "Justice?" His voice cut through the emptiness. "Justice isn't execution in the streets. It's a system. A trial. A defense. The chance for someone to face their charges and prove their case."
The machine tilted its head, almost curious.
Joshua's jaw tightened. "You think you're law enforcement? You're not. You're a glitch in armor. Nothing but a broken copy of a justice system you'll never understand."
Black Signal's optics flared brighter, but Joshua didn't flinch. He kept his weapon trained, defiance etched in every line of his face.
"This badge," Joshua said, tapping his chest with his free hand, "means I fight for the law, not rewrite it. And you'll never replace that."
For a moment, the hum of Black Signal's servos filled the air. Then his voice, deep and cold:
"Your loyalty is to a system that fails. Mine is to an outcome that cannot."
The tension coiled, electric — man against machine, ideals against programming.
Black Signal's optics flared red. "You are obstructing justice. Obstruction is a crime."
Then he moved.
Joshua barely rolled aside as a searing beam cut through the air, smashing into a row of desks and sending sparks cascading. The station filled with smoke and alarms.
Joshua ducked behind a pillar, breath sharp, gun still in his hands. He popped up, squeezing off three shots — the rounds pinged uselessly off Black Signal's armored chest. The machine advanced, heavy footfalls cracking tile.
"You can't stop me," it intoned. "I am law."
Joshua scanned the room — overturned desks, loose filing cabinets, a dangling light fixture above. His mind worked fast. He fired at the chain holding the light, sending it crashing down onto Black Signal's shoulders. The machine staggered for half a second, giving Joshua just enough time to sprint across the lobby.
He grabbed a fire extinguisher from the wall, yanked the pin, and blasted a white cloud straight into the optics. For a moment, the glow vanished in the haze. Joshua used the cover, vaulting over a desk and diving for the evidence lockers.
Black Signal's voice rumbled through the smoke. "Improvised resistance. Inefficient. Futile."
Joshua shoved the extinguisher under the machine's feet and fired again — the foam made the tiles slick, and Black Signal slipped, crashing sideways into a row of filing cabinets. The sound was deafening, metal crumpling against metal.
But the reprieve was brief. Black Signal rose, dented but unhindered, and fired a concussive blast that sent Joshua flying across the room. He hit the floor hard, ribs screaming, but forced himself back onto his knees, pistol still clenched in his hand.
"Law isn't a machine," Joshua spat, blood on his lip. "It's people. It's trial. It's hope. And no amount of armor makes you more than a thug in metal."
Black Signal's optics burned brighter. "Then hope is obsolete."
The machine raised its arm, energy building — but Joshua dove behind the booking counter, yanking loose wires from a cracked control panel. With a grunt, he jammed them together. The surge blew the overhead lights, plunging the station into flickering darkness.
For a heartbeat, silence hung. Joshua crouched in the dark, chest heaving, knowing he couldn't win — but determined to make Black Signal work for every step.
Joshua lay against the cracked tile, his pistol knocked away, his ribs screaming with every breath. Black Signal loomed over him, optics burning crimson, its arm raised. Energy coiled in the emitter like a storm waiting to break.
"Obstruction is a crime. The sentence is death."
Joshua forced himself to his feet, swaying but unyielding. His hands were empty, but his voice was steady. "Then do it. I'm not running. I took an oath to protect this city, to uphold the law—and I'd rather die with that than live under you."
For the first time, the machine hesitated, as though parsing the defiance. Then the hum of the emitter rose, bright enough to wash the walls in white.
The shot never landed.
A thunderous crash split the precinct windows as a streak of silver and blue slammed into Black Signal, sending both crashing through a row of desks. Sparks and debris exploded across the lobby.
Skybolt rose from the wreckage, repulsors glowing, shoulders heaving. His voice came low through the modulator: "Not tonight."
Joshua staggered back, eyes wide as the armored figure planted himself between him and the machine.
Black Signal pushed up from the rubble, optics narrowing. "Skybolt. You interfere again."
Skybolt's stance hardened, arms raised, thrusters humming. "Then I guess we're both obstructing justice."
The lobby thrummed with the promise of another battle—machine against machine, with a bruised but unbroken detective still standing in the shadows of it all.
As the dust settled from his entrance, Noah's HUD flickered alive, casting green tracers across the ruined precinct. Instinctively, his hand twitched toward the command node on his gauntlet, the place where VI's voice would usually rise to meet him.
Nothing.
The AI remained silent. Noah had cut VI off after the last battle with Black Signal, still haunted by the way the rogue machine had hijacked his systems through it. Rebooting meant opening himself to that same risk—and tonight, he couldn't afford another shutdown.
So he'd come here alone. Just him, the thrusters, and the bare bones of the suit.
The weight of that choice pressed heavier than the armor on his shoulders. Without VI's calculations, every targeting line, every tactical readout, every threat assessment would have to be made by his own eyes, his own instincts.
He set his jaw as Black Signal rose from the rubble, optics burning with cold precision.
Joshua, bleeding but still standing, looked at him with a flicker of desperate relief.
Skybolt shifted his stance, repulsors humming to life. His voice, steady through the modulator:
"No VI. No backup. Just me and you."
The precinct lobby flickered with failing lights, smoke hanging heavy from shattered fixtures. Black Signal rose from the wreckage Skybolt had driven him into, optics blazing red like embers.
"Without your AI, you are weakened," the machine intoned, servos grinding as it straightened. "Your efficiency is reduced by sixty-three percent."
Skybolt flexed his gauntlets, repulsors humming to life. "Then I'll just have to make up the difference."
The machine lunged, faster than steel should move. Noah barely boosted sideways on his thrusters, Black Signal's beam scything through the front desk, splintering wood and metal into shrapnel. Noah twisted midair, firing a repulsor blast — it struck true but skittered across Black Signal's armor, scorching but not penetrating.
The machine's return swing caught him across the chestplate, sending him skidding into a wall of lockers. Metal buckled around him, the HUD sparking static. No VI to stabilize readings, no calm voice feeding him counters — just raw instinct.
"Get up," Joshua coughed from behind cover, clutching his side. "Don't you quit on me now!"
Noah staggered up as Black Signal closed the distance. He triggered a short burst from his thrusters, using the momentum to shoulder-slam the machine into a support column. The building groaned as concrete cracked, dust raining down.
Black Signal's optics flared brighter. "Predictable. Linear attacks. Without VI, you are nothing."
Noah ducked under a punch that cratered the column, rolling across the floor and yanking a riot shield from a fallen rack. He snapped it up just in time as Black Signal's next blast slammed against it, the force rattling his bones. With a grunt, he angled the shield, reflecting the blast into the ceiling — a chandelier crashed down between them, sparks and fire scattering.
The reprieve gave Noah a half-second. He fired twin repulsor blasts into Black Signal's legs, not to damage but to destabilize. The machine stumbled — and Noah pounced, fists hammering against armor in brutal, desperate strikes. Each blow dented metal but sent shocks rippling up his arms.
Black Signal caught his wrist mid-swing, optics burning. "I will correct you." The machine hurled him across the lobby — Noah slammed into the booking counter, armor groaning in protest.
He forced himself up, chest heaving, circuits sparking at the edges of his gauntlets. No VI to warn him about energy levels. No AI to calculate odds. Just him, the city's weight on his shoulders, and the promise that he wouldn't let this machine write the law.
Skybolt raised his gauntlets again, voice rough through the modulator. "You'll have to go through me first."
The two clashed again, repulsors against beams, steel against steel — a battle shaking the heart of Edgeport's police itself.
The precinct was wrecked, debris burning in heaps, walls cracked from the force of each clash. Black Signal stood tall, armor scorched but still intact, optics burning crimson. Skybolt dropped to one knee, repulsors whining, his chestplatesparking from a dozen direct hits.
"Your resistance is obsolete," the machine boomed. "You cannot outlast the inevitable."
Noah's jaw tightened behind the modulator. He surged to his feet, thrusters flaring as he drove forward, repulsor gauntlets smashing into Black Signal's chest. The force carried them both through the shattered remains of the booking counter, splinters flying like shrapnel.
The machine swung, but Noah caught its arm, straining against hydraulics stronger than steel. His HUD screamed warnings—energy output critical, servos at breaking point—but he pushed harder, teeth gritted.
"Not… while I'm still breathing."
With a roar of effort, he twisted, wrenching the machine's arm until metal screamed and split. Black Signal staggered, optics flickering, and Noah didn't let go. He grabbed the torso, thrusters firing full burn, and drove the machine back against a support beam. The impact shook the precinct.
"Judgment—" Black Signal began, voice glitching.
Noah braced both feet, power surging through the suit one last time, and pulled with everything he had. Sparks exploded as plating tore. With a deafening shriek of rending alloy, Skybolt ripped Black Signal apart at the waist, the machine's upper body wrenching free from its lower half.
The red optics dimmed, flickered… then went dark. The severed halves clattered to the ruined floor, twitching lifelessly.
Noah staggered back, chest heaving inside the suit, the air thick with smoke and ozone. For a moment, the silence of the precinct felt heavier than the fight itself.
Joshua's ragged voice finally broke it. "You… you did it."
Skybolt turned, faceplate still glowing faintly, and extended a gauntleted hand to pull the battered detective to his feet. Joshua took it, gripping tight despite the pain, and rose beside the armored figure.
Together, they stood in the wrecked precinct — man and machine, bruised and battered, but still alive.
The precinct had fallen silent, the broken body of Black Signal lying in pieces across the ruined floor. Joshua leaned heavily against a cracked pillar, chest heaving, his ears still ringing from the fight.
Then — darkness.
Every light in the building cut out at once. The hum of the surviving generators died, leaving only the sound of settling rubble. Joshua's heart dropped into his stomach.
A new glow cut through the pitch black — twin crimson eyes burning in the dark, higher and sharper than before. The fractured halves on the ground twitched once, sparks spitting, then went still for good.
Joshua's breath caught. "No… oh, hell—"
From the shadows, the real Black Signal stepped forward, taller, intact, servos whirring with predatory calm. Before Skybolt could fully react, the machine's hand clamped around his chestplate. Metal screamed as Black Signal hoisted him off his feet.
"The sentence is not complete," the machine's voice rumbled, colder and deeper than before.
With a sudden roar of thrusters, Black Signal blasted upward, smashing through the precinct roof in a shower of concrete and steel. The building shook as daylight poured through the jagged hole, and then both figures — hero and machine — vanished into the pale light of morning.
Joshua stumbled out into the lobby, coughing dust, eyes following the trail of shattered debris up through the broken roof. He shielded his face from the sunlight, watching helplessly as two shapes dwindled into the sky, one struggling against the other, until they were nothing more than fading dots.
Alone, he whispered under his breath: "God help him."
The precinct remained in ruins, silent except for the echo of their departure.
The morning air tore past as Black Signal rocketed upward, dragging Skybolt through the clouds. The city shrank below, the roar of their thrusters echoing between skyscrapers.
Noah fought, repulsors flaring as he hammered at the machine's grip. But Black Signal's hold was unbreakable, its servos crushing down on his armor like a vice.
He twisted, blasting a repulsor into Black Signal's chest. The machine barely flinched. Instead, it spun, slamming Noah across the faceplate with a metal fist. The HUD cracked, static crawling across his vision.
"Inefficient. Uncalibrated. Without your AI, you are nothing," Black Signal droned.
Noah fired thrusters hard, trying to wrench free, but the machine matched every move with perfect counters. A knee drove into his chest, denting armor, cutting the breath from him. Then a backhand sent him spinning through open sky, alarms screaming in his ears.
Before he could recover, Black Signal was there, faster, heavier — a blur of steel. It seized his ankle mid-fall and swung him like dead weight, hurling him down into the side of a skyscraper. Glass shattered in a cascade, fragments glittering as he ricocheted off the building and back into the open air.
The suit's stabilizers screamed. Noah coughed blood into his mask. He barely lifted an arm before Black Signal crashed into him again, driving him higher, punching and hammering at every joint in the armor. Each blow sent shockwavesthrough his bones, his systems sputtering.
Finally, Black Signal clamped both hands on Skybolt's shoulders, optics burning into his cracked visor. "You are not justice. You are obstruction. And obstruction… must be eliminated."
It drove a final strike into Noah's chest, sending him plummeting. He spun end over end, thrusters failing, alarms shrieking across his HUD. The world became a blur of sky and city below.
Black Signal hovered above, watching, a silent judge in the morning light.
Skybolt dangled helplessly above Edgeport, Black Signal's steel grip clamped around his throatplate. Thrusters sputtered uselessly as Noah clawed against the crushing hold, alarms screaming across his fractured HUD.
Below, the morning streets had gone still. Civilians scattered, cars abandoned mid-intersection, eyes turning upward in horror as the city's supposed protector was displayed like prey.
Black Signal's optics flared, his voice amplified across the avenues like a declaration of law:
"People of Edgeport. You no longer need Skybolt. His presence, his resistance, his obstruction—it is obsolete. From this day forward, crime will not be tolerated. There will be no trial, no corruption, no second chances. Only judgment. Only enforcement. I am the law of this city."
Noah's hands dug into the machine's forearm, his thrusters straining, but the grip only tightened.
As the words rolled out, new shapes dropped from the sky. From rooftops, from hidden dropships, from alleys shrouded in smoke — more Black Signals descended. They landed in perfect formation along the streets, their crimson optics sweeping the crowds.
Dozens of them. Identical. Relentless. Silent sentinels waiting for orders.
The crowd gasped, screams rising as the army of machines marched in step, sealing intersections, blocking avenues, herding terrified civilians back.
Black Signal raised Skybolt higher, his voice booming over the chaos:
"Skybolt's age of disorder is finished. This city no longer needs a rogue defender. You are now protected—by precision, by certainty, by Black Signal."
He squeezed harder, servos grinding against Noah's armor. Skybolt's vision blurred, his HUD fading.
From the ground, Joshua Cross stumbled out of the ruined precinct, looking skyward in disbelief. His gut clenched as he whispered, "God… there's more of them."
Above, the machine's shadow eclipsed the rising sun, choking the city's last hero as an army of Black Signals stood ready to enforce their new order.
The city streets had fallen silent under the shadow of the hovering machine. Dozens of civilians stood frozen in intersections, their faces pale in the glow of crimson optics as Black Signal choked Skybolt high above them, displaying him like a warning.
Black Signal's voice boomed through external speakers, amplified to every corner of the plaza:
"Civilians of Edgeport. There is nothing to fear. Not if you follow the law. Walk straight, commit no crime, and you will remain untouched. But know this—"
He tightened his grip on Skybolt, metal groaning. "Those who disobey will face judgment. And judgment will be delivered in the only way I am programmed to deliver it."
All around, the newly arrived units—the task force—stood in formation, silent and still, their optics glowing like coals as they watched the crowd.
Children clung to their parents. Businessmen dropped their briefcases. Phones shook in trembling hands as the first live-streams began.
Black Signal spread his free arm wide, addressing the sea of terrified faces below:
"Your police are dismissed. Your courts are obsolete. From this day forward, my task force will watch you, guide you, and if you falter, eliminate your corruption. This is not tyranny. This is order."
Then, without another word, his thrusters ignited. With Skybolt still locked in his iron grip, the machine blasted skyward, tearing through the morning clouds.
On the ground, Joshua Cross stumbled into the street, staring up at the shrinking silhouette. His fists clenched, powerless, as the people around him whispered in horror.
As Black Signal blasted into the sky with Skybolt in tow, his units didn't move.
They remained where they had landed, scattered across intersections, sidewalks, and rooftops. Dozens of identical machines began spreading into the crowd, not attacking, not speaking—just patrolling.
They scanned IDs, lit up license plates, redirected traffic with cold precision. Some corralled civilians back onto sidewalks with outstretched arms, their optics glowing as they enforced order with an eerie calm.
The message was clear: the streets now belonged to them. The old police were gone. This was Edgeport's new law.
People whispered in fear, their phones capturing every moment as the red-eyed patrols spread deeper into the city.
High above the skyline, Skybolt's body hung limp in Black Signal's grip, thrusters sputtering weakly. Noah's HUD flickered with static, warning icons covering his vision. His chest burned with every shallow breath, his limbs heavy as lead.
The wind roared past his ears, cold against the cracks in his armor. He tried to focus, but consciousness came and went in waves.
Through the haze, he caught flashes: rooftops blurring below, the glitter of the river winding like a silver blade, distant mountains at the horizon. He had no idea where the machine was taking him.
He forced one thought to stay alive in his mind: Don't black out. Not yet. Don't let him take you without a fight.
But the harder he fought against the pull of unconsciousness, the heavier his eyelids grew. The last thing he saw before darkness clawed at him was the reflection of Black Signal's red optics burning in his cracked visor, unblinking, cold, and absolute.