The greenish light enveloped him. Bal jolted awake. The white drone flew above him. "Shit!" His hiding place had now been revealed. Bal quickly looked through the window next to him. The three were gone. Bal slipped quickly through the window. He actually managed to get back through. He found himself in the hallway. He looked forward and saw the elevator door opening. Going down now was dangerous. It was probably swarming with robots.
So Bal looked out the small window and saw the drone trying to get in. Impossible to succeed. He looked away. "Shit!" The drone flew around the corner and tried to enter through the shattered glass. Bal ran quickly to the elevator and accidentally pressed all the way to the top. The door closed and it started moving.
Balanced breathed heavily. He ran his hands through his brown hair. In the mirror, he saw his blue eyes glowing with panic. He could only hope they were not waiting for him upstairs. Now he would probably be arrested, so he went over everything in his mind.
"So I'm going to work there a bit, pay back the damage—" He stopped and realized what he was actually thinking. He now had millions in debt, since the parts of law enforcement robots were of course not cheap, even with infinite energy. Out of disappointment, Bal sat on the elevator floor and waited for his fate.
When the door opened, he was surrounded, as expected. All the men were dressed in black and had bandanas over their mouths. High-tech weapons were aimed at Bal, the lasers locking onto him. One spoke loudly:
"One wrong move and we shoot!"
Bal noticed a flying object in the background approaching at increasing speed. They were on the roof. They were not surrounded by walls, only the elevator protruding from the floor. Bal raised his hands and slowly stood up. The masked men came closer and closer. But when Bal looked again at the flying object, he saw it was getting even closer.
"Th-there!" Bal pointed forward. The men assumed an attack and fired bullets. Bal's blood splattered on the elevator mirror, which shattered seconds later. Bal's riddled body fell to the floor, forming a pool of blood that spread across the elevator.
As the men reached to pick up Bal's body, they stopped. A man flew past them on a flying board, his hands stretched forward, each holding a hand weapon. He began shooting. Quickly, the entire roof became a bloodbath. The men didn't even have a chance to shoot. None of them survived.
The man on the board descended a little, lowered his height, and jumped onto the roof of the modern building where they were. Too late—the elevator door closed and went down. Bal was inside. His body rose. Bal gasped for air, reached forward, and saw the bullets fall out and the wounds close. His body was surrounded by a black-purple aura.
"T-the core protected me. A normal human would be riddled and dead, but since the bullet hit me…" Bal exhaled and stood up. His body hurt a little, but he jumped around a few times and the pain loosened.
Bal saw two dead men next to him. They both had bullets in their heads. He did not understand what had happened because he was paralyzed by shock. Well, he had been riddled, so he could not feel anything. Bal carefully searched the men. This was his way out! He had a plan. A good one.
As the ride neared its end and the elevator almost reached the bottom, Bal geared up. He stole the black vest of one man, the two weapons, and the two weapon holders. He attached the holders to his sides and clicked the machine guns in. They looked complex but were actually hand weapons. You only had to press and aim.
Bal pulled the black bandana over his nose and prepared for his performance. He threw the body of the man, whose clothes he had stolen, through the hole created by the broken mirror.
When he reached the bottom, more armed men awaited: law enforcement robots and those dogs he hated. Bal raised a hand and placed it on his shoulder, pretending to be injured. The performance began. In a slightly deeper voice, Bal said:
"T-the boy is dangerous! He got us all!…"
He was about to continue when suddenly a man entered through the door. They were at a counter where normally something important for the residents was discussed. You could reach your room through the elevator, so the room was quite large. The man was dressed in white, had a mechanical arm, and looked older—mid-30s—but muscular. A machine pistol protruded from his back.
He suddenly started shooting. Bal ripped the black bandana off and fled into the elevator. But the man raised a hand. "No, wait!" Bal had no chance and entered the elevator but did not press a button. He hid behind the wall. He heard shots, but quickly they stopped.
Balanced dared a look outside. The man was fighting the robot dogs. He needed help—they surrounded him and charged. Bal pulled out a weapon and fired wildly. Out of 31 shots, 12 hit, tearing the robots apart.
The man in white was struggling against the robot dogs, dodging attacks with remarkable agility. Bal kept firing, taking down the remaining mechanical beasts one by one. Sparks flew with every shot, metal limbs scattered across the floor. The man gave Bal a nod, acknowledging the help without stopping his assault.
Bal realized he needed to get closer to coordinate. He jumped from the elevator just as it started to ascend again, landing with a roll and quickly coming up behind cover. He peeked out and saw the man in white still holding his ground, though now slightly overwhelmed by a new wave of drones descending from above.
Bal sprinted forward, shooting at the drones. Each shot made the machines explode in bursts of fire and metal. The man in white grinned, seeing Bal's precision. He shouted: "Cover me! I'm going for the core!"
Without hesitation, Bal provided covering fire. Bullets and debris filled the air. They moved in sync, an unspoken partnership formed through necessity and survival. The elevator from before was now irrelevant; their battlefield had expanded to the rooftop and the sky above.
Suddenly, one drone broke through Bal's line of fire, lunging at the man in white. Bal reacted instantly, swinging his weapon and shooting the drone at point-blank range. It exploded into pieces, falling onto the rooftop below.
"Thanks," the man in white said, wiping blood from a small cut on his cheek. "We don't have much time. They know the core is vulnerable."
Bal swallowed hard, adrenaline pumping. The black-purple aura around him still glimmered faintly, a reminder of what had saved him moments ago. He tightened his grip on his weapons. "Then let's finish this," he said, voice steady now.
Together, they moved toward the building's central structure, dodging more attacks and using the rooftop edges for cover. Every step brought them closer to the heart of danger, and yet Bal felt a strange clarity. This was no longer just survival—this was a fight he was meant to be in.