He ran.
He wasn't running away from something specific, but as if the ground itself were chasing him.
Victor's steps slammed violently against the asphalt—relentless, rapid—his breath echoing and blending with the mute sound of iron surrounding him. The massive industrial building drew closer, a rigid gray mass, like an open mouth waiting for its prey.
His fist was clenched tightly around the gun.
He didn't feel the cold of the metal… only its weight, as if reminding him that turning back was no longer an option.
At that exact moment, the alarms blared.
A sharp, mechanical sound tore through the silence.
In the control room, Ilio froze in place.
"These alarms… did they come from our units?"
The reply came quickly, slightly distorted: "No. Not us."
Ilio and Hamilton exchanged a silent glance before Ilio spoke, his tone carefully steady:
"That's strange… Are we under attack?"
Hamilton's face drained of color, as if the words had struck him physically.
"Attack? And you say it so casually?! We're inside Verdantys. If we're surrounded here, it's over!"
Ilio didn't answer immediately. When his voice returned, it was calmer than it had any right to be.
"Don't worry, Mr. Hamilton. I have a plan… but on one condition."
Hamilton stared at him. "What condition?"
"That you let me take command this time."
Hamilton laughed bitterly. "What a generation… Fine. Do whatever you want. But if you fail, I swear I'll wipe that irritating calm off your face."
"I appreciate it."
Ilio activated the public channel.
"Attention all units. Before any movement, we need to identify the enemy."
Alex's voice came through, hesitant: "They're… the Dogs."
A short silence followed.
"The Dogs?" Ilio said, his voice aligning with everyone's realization.
"So the government finally moved. It seems our presence has started to bother them."
He paused, as if rearranging pieces of an internal puzzle.
"Strange that they didn't act when we took Ashval… which means they want it."
Then his tone hardened.
"Alright. Listen carefully. I have a plan, and it must be followed to the letter."
"Alex, climb to the highest tree and count them."
"Understood."
Heavy seconds passed.
"Something's odd… Their numbers are low. About fifty."
"Excellent."
"Excellent?!" Alex said. "How is that excellent? What are you hiding, Ilio?"
"Not now."
"To all units: spread across the trees of Verdantys. Hide well. We'll attack from above if necessary. As you know, artificial intelligence has no intuition… and when the order comes, do not hesitate."
Then, coldly: "Louis, Victor… stop monitoring them."
Hamilton stiffened. "What? Then who will watch them?"
"I will."
Hamilton exhaled deeply. "Fine… I'll distribute the men. But remember your words."
"No one fires unless I give the order. Move."
They scattered into the forest, while Ilio remained behind his scope, watching the industrial building.
No movement.
No trace.
As if the place were deliberately empty.
"After all this… you still won't show yourself, 'special case'?"
The scene shifted.
Debris everywhere.
The bodies of the Dogs scattered lifelessly.
And in the middle of them… Victor.
He walked without concern, as if strolling down an abandoned street—not through a field of death.
He stopped suddenly.
Why am I here?
The question emerged from within him without warning.
He looked around, trying to grasp a single coherent thought.
"I… forgot. I forgot why I came."
He shook his head. "It doesn't matter."
He began recalling what he could.
"They said it was a city… one of four. I was in one when I met Ilio. Then Ashval… three remain. And two capsules."
He clutched his head.
"The probability of one being here is high."
He inhaled deeply.
"I want my memories back. Without them… I feel meaningless."
He stopped.
"Robert…"
He froze.
"Why did I say that name to Hamilton?"
He laughed softly—a hollow laugh.
"What an irony… They helped me, and I told them nothing about myself."
Then he whispered:
"I'll thank them… if I return."
Something moved.
He turned.
A dying body.
At the same instant, a sudden pain struck his head.
A flash.
An image of a dying old man… his hands stained… screaming.
"My God… did I do that?"
He felt no guilt.
And that frightened him more than anything.
"What even is guilt?"
His head hit a metal door.
The door of the industrial building.
He looked at it.
"And now… how do I get in?"
He returned to the body, pulled a card from it.
"Forgive me… I need this."
"Kill me… please."
He froze.
The voice wasn't that of a slave… but of a human.
"I want to join my family."
Victor stared at him for a long moment, eyes carrying faint pity.
"Then… you didn't choose this."
He knelt, placed the gun against the wounded man's forehead.
"Don't hate me… I don't want to kill you."
He pulled the trigger.
His hand trembled.
Sweat beaded.
He threw the gun away.
"No. Impossible. Death was never a solution. Live."
The wounded man smiled.
"Thank you… for killing me."
His gaze changed… it wasn't on Victor anymore.
A strange sensation.
A gunshot.
Victor didn't move.
The bullet pierced the wounded man's forehead with lethal calm.
Victor's heartbeat accelerated.
He crawled for the gun, opened the door with the card, and went inside.
In the forests of Verdantys, silence was heavier than any noise.
The towering trees rose like pillars of an ancient temple, their leaves blocking the sky, their trunks hiding men who barely dared to breathe.
The resistance forces, led by Hamilton, were precisely positioned on thick branches—bodies tense, fingers near the trigger, but not touching it.
No sign.
No movement.
As if the forest itself were holding its breath.
The Dogs advanced beneath them.
Their steps were organized, gazes steady, weapons raised at calculated angles.
Pure artificial intelligence… without hesitation, without fear.
Hamilton whispered into the comms: "Ilio… they're directly below us. What's the plan now?"
Ilio's voice came back cold, as if discussing tomorrow's weather:
"Do not fire."
Hamilton tensed. "What?!"
"We won't engage. Let them pass. No need for unnecessary losses."
A short silence, then: "I understand that… but what about the three of you?"
"Don't worry. I have a plan."
Ilio closed the channel.
He lay among the grass, crawled slightly, changed his viewing angle.
"They'll come from there… then I'll watch from the front."
Seconds later, distorted screaming burst through the comms:
"Ilio! You bastard! Get ready!"
Ilio jolted upright.
"Hamilton, what happened?!"
"Where were you?! We're in trouble! Alex… he fell!"
Ilio clenched his scope. "Fell? In front of them?"
"Yes! It looks like a natural fall, but they're around him now!"
On the ground, Alex lay flat, hands raised in surrender.
Three Dogs stood before him, gun barrels precisely aimed.
Above, the resistance fighters' faces went pale.
Fear was contagious.
Hamilton shouted: "Ilio! What do we do? Everyone's waiting for your order!"
The reply came… one word only:
"Do not fire."
The word was cold… and it burned everyone's nerves.
Then Ilio added:
"The ball is in your hands now, Mr. Hamilton. Do what you see fit. I've said all I have to say. If you don't like it, you're the one in charge."
"I'm closing the channel… I'm in a critical position."
Questions flooded Hamilton.
He closed his eyes.
Do I attack?
Save Alex?
Sacrifice everyone?
He opened the channel, his voice broken:
"Follow Ilio's orders."
"No one acts rashly… please."
Seconds passed… eternities.
Unexpectedly, the Dogs lowered their weapons.
They turned around.
And continued on their path… as if nothing had happened.
The resistance remained frozen, stunned.
Until the Dogs disappeared among the trees.
Only then did Ilio speak:
"The next step… is waiting."
He removed the headset and tossed it aside.
Raised his scope again.
And froze.
At the entrance of the industrial building, one of the Dogs was standing.
Bending down…
Examining the bullet wound in the forehead of the corpse.
Slowly… like a ritual.
"What is this…?"
At that same moment, Ilio spotted Louis approaching the site.
He whispered: "No… no…"
He stood abruptly, started running, screaming at the top of his lungs:
"Louis! Louis! Watch out! It's a trap!"
The sound barely carried.
Louis turned, saw Ilio running toward him in madness.
Why now?
And who was that standing motionless?
Then he caught one word:
"Trap."
Then:
"Stay where you are!"
Louis' eyes widened.
He noticed the door… open.
"Victor… inside the building."
The scene shifted.
Inside the industrial building.
A chaotic office.
Scattered papers.
Shattered screens.
Victor stood in the center, the gun in his hand.
He slowly placed it on the table.
"I've seen this place before…"
He wasn't sure how he knew.
Footsteps.
Close.
His body stiffened.
He turned sharply.
Someone entered.
Wearing the Dogs' uniform.
He locked the door tightly behind him.
Victor's heartbeat surged.
This was strange… they don't move like this.
"Who are you?" Victor asked, his voice tense.
The man stood still, staring at him from behind the mask.
Then he spoke in a familiar voice—a voice Victor recognized without remembering where from:
"I am what you call… R308."
He stepped forward.
"And now… who are you?"
To be continued…