The egg was cold now, forgotten in its bowl. Ethan sat cross-legged on his creaky bed, the glow of the gauntlet casting strange shadows on the wall. His phone buzzed faintly in his palm, the group chat lighting up.
He typed quickly.
Ethan: "Change of plans. Scrap yard's still on my list, but listen tomorrow, you guys need to find shelter. Not kidding, the news wasn't lying about those asteroids."
The typing bubbles came fast.
Jack: "Bro, you serious? We were all set to help you tomorrow. Scrap hunt and beers, remember?"
Ethan: "I know. But forget the scrap for now. Survival first, I'm not risking anyone. Not with what's coming."
Talia: "We will talk it over. Nick's parents, Val's cousins, even Jack's uncle we plan on moving everyone to the University sub-basement. Reinforced concrete, old Cold War shelter. We'll ride it out there."
Nick: "You coming with us? There should be more room."
Ethan stared at the screen, thumb hovering. His lips pressed into a thin line.
Ethan: "I'll get there. Tomorrow or the day after. I… need to check on something first."
Valeria: "Ethan. No jokes. No disappearing acts. You pull a stunt and I swear..."
He smiled faintly, though it didn't reach his eyes.
Ethan: "I'm not ditching, just… good luck and stay safe. If things get ugly, we'll meet at the University."
Silence in the chat for a few seconds, then:
Jack: "Don't die, man. You still owe me rent for the last pizza run."
Ethan chuckled. "Noted."
He tossed the phone aside and leaned back, staring at the gauntlet's glow. His thoughts churned, restless.
Asteroids or… maybe ships and this gauntlet isn't some accident. It's a tool. A weapon. A… gift. Whatever falls from the sky, I need to be ready.
His hand curled into a fist. The faint hum of the gauntlet answered him like a heartbeat.
---
Morning
The next day came gray and restless. Sirens wailed in the distance, mixing with the calls of neighbors shouting to each other as they packed bags into cars. A police cruiser rolled past, megaphone blaring:
"Attention! All citizens are urged to proceed to designated shelters immediately University sub-basement, subway stations, or industrial complexes. Do not delay! Repeat seek shelter now!"
Ethan sipped burnt coffee from a chipped mug, chewing a stale piece of bread. His stomach twisted with nerves, but his legs moved anyway. He tugged on his sneakers and stepped out into the chaos.
The city streets were alive with fear. Families dragging suitcases. Kids clinging to their parents. Radios blaring the countdown until impact.
Ethan adjusted his backpack and muttered, "Scrapyard first then I'll find shelter later."
The scrapyard wasn't far. Thirty minutes of weaving through streets, passing boarded shops and abandoned cars. When he reached it, he almost laughed no gate, no locks, just rusted heaps of cars piled like broken giants.
"Convenient," he whispered.
His eyes landed on a rusted sedan, half-buried under weeds. He raised his gauntlet slowly, voice dry.
"…Scan?"
The gauntlet hummed. Blue light rippled over the car, every bolt and screw unraveling into black dust. The entire vehicle collapsed inward, dissolving like sand, then streamed into the gauntlet.
Ethan staggered back. "That'll never stop being creepy."
Ethan licked his lips. His chest tightened.
"…Create Worker Construct."
The scrapyard shuddered as nanobots streamed out of the gauntlet, black dust swirling in the air like a storm. Bits of alloy and light pulled together, arms forming first, then a torso, then legs. Plates of dull gray snapped into place, glowing veins of blue lighting up like circuits.
Before him stood a four-armed humanoid, taller than Ethan, its smooth alloy head tilting curiously. It flexed its fingers, each movement unnervingly precise.
Ethan's jaw hung open. He whispered hoarsely, "I… I just built a robot."
The construct straightened, then knelt on one knee before him, chest plate glowing.
"Awaiting orders."
Ethan let out a shaky laugh, both terrified and thrilled. His hands trembled as he whispered, "Okay… okay, this is insane. But if the world really is ending… I might just stand a chance."
The Worker Construct tilted its smooth alloy head when Ethan pointed to a rust-red hatchback pinned under two crumpled vans.
"Lift it," Ethan ordered, voice shaky but firm.
The construct moved with deliberate precision. Four alloy arms hooked under the frame. For a moment, its servos whined and plates strained. Ethan bit his lip, heart thudding qwhat if it failed? But then, with a grinding shriek, the hatchback rose slowly, metal groaning, until the worker shifted its weight and set the car aside like a stubborn piece of furniture.
Ethan let out a breathless laugh. "Holy… you actually did it, your stronger than you look."
The construct stood motionless, awaiting more commands. Ethan turned to another rusted car, raising the gauntlet.
"Alright, let's see what we can"
A boom like thunder tore the air. The ground vibrated beneath his sneakers, rattling loose bolts and glass. Ethan snapped his head up, eyes widening.
Above, streaks of fire ripped across the gray morning sky. They weren't just meteors they trailed green vapor, sickly and unnatural, burning holes in the clouds as they fell. The largest broke apart midair, fragmenting into dozens of blazing shards. Most screamed far off toward the horizon, but two were angling dangerously close to the city.
"Not good. Not good," Ethan whispered.
Another deafening crack split the air. Jets roared overhead, slicing the sky in formation, contrails crisscrossing. Helicopters thumped past, their searchlights stabbing toward the incoming fragments. The streets erupted in fresh panic screams, horns, parents pulling children along by the arms.
Ethan's chest tightened. His friends were probably huddled underground by now, safe. He could still run, make it to the University before the worst of it hit.
Or…
Ethan clenched his fists, knuckles white against the gauntlet. "Fuck it."
He turned back to the scrapyard. "More workers. More scouts."
The gauntlet thrummed to life. Black dust poured into the air, swirling in disciplined storms. New forms emerged sleek scout constructs with glowing eyes, more workers stepping from clouds of nanites like soldiers rising from ash. Soon, twenty scouts and two dozen workers stood around him, silent, waiting.
Ethan licked his lips. "Scouts stay hidden As possible. Get to the rooftops and watch those crash sites. I want to know what's in those meteors."
The smaller, nimble constructs blinked, then darted away in eerie silence, bounding up walls and vanishing into alleys.
"Workers you're with me. Half of you, bring me more scrap from the far end. The rest guard formation."
A low hum built in the gauntlet as Ethan summoned something different. Plates unfolded around his body, clamping into place. Sleek alloy locked over his limbs, forming a slim, four-armed exosuit. HUD markers flickered across his vision, readouts scrolling across the edges of his sight.
He flexed experimentally, feeling strength ripple through him two, maybe three times his normal. His heart hammered with exhilaration. "Initiate Frame. Damn… this feels unreal."
Another boom rattled his teeth, closer this time. Not a meteor in the distance. This one slammed into the city itself. A towering plume of dust and flame rose where it struck. The sound of shattering glass echoed like a storm.
"...Shit."
The scouts' HUD feeds began to flicker into his visor grainy glimpses of impact sites. Green mist boiling off shattered craters. Shapes moving in the haze. Shapes that skittered.
"Fucking knew it, they're not rocks," Ethan muttered. His throat was dry, but he forced the words out, steady. "Scouts, keep your distance. Workers, with me. We're heading to that crater."
Twenty scouts and twenty-four workers surrounded him, a strange, alien entourage marching through the scrapyard gates. Ethan adjusted his grip on the gauntlet, the hum of power filling his bones.
Whatever crawled out of those meteors those ships he'd face it.