The machine in front of us thick plating. Reinforced shoulders. Heavy limbs built to survive artillery, not fist-fights. Model 40. The kind of old-world unit they probably designed after someone said words like unstoppable and overkill in the same sentence.
I stared at it.Cadence stared at it.It stared at nothing, because it didn't need to.
Then Cadence said, "I have an idea."
"Oh no," I said.
"A tactical impersonation."
"I really don't like where you're going."
"You should. It's based on previous experience."
"What?"
"Remember back at the scav camp ? You disguised yourself as a captive with aid of holographic projective."
"That wasn't a disguise. That was me improvising under mitigating circumstances."
"Yes. And it worked, sort of. Till you broke rank. Statistically, your decisions succeed 28% of the time."
"That's not a compliment."
"It is simply the numbers."
I sighed. "Fine. What's your brilliant idea."
"Holographic camouflage."
I blinked. "You want me to pretend to be one of them?"
Cadence sounded almost delighted. "Yes. Humans make assumptions. So do machines."
"I said that sarcastically."
"And yet it was insightful."
"Great. Let's try it on, be like prom all over."
The hologram projector flickered. Light shimmered over my body, bending my outline until it looked vaguely… protector-shaped. Thick torso. Wide shoulders. Ugly in that early-military way.
Cadence actually laughed. It was quiet, but definitely laughter."You will not win any beauty contests."
"Turn it off."
"No."
"This is humiliating."
"Correction. This is strategic. The humiliation is incidental. I can make it better"
Light flickered, I glared at the hologram reflection in a cracked wall panel."Why am I pink."
Cadence paused. "I thought pink might cheer you up."
"Fix it."
"I am attempting."
"No you're no, try harder."
"You say that quite often."
The pink hue faded, shifting back to dull metallic grey. Still bulky. Still ridiculous. But at least no longer bubblegum flavored.
Cadence sounded pleased. "Back to default."
"It's default for sure," I muttered. "Let's hope the big guy likes it."
We approached slowly. My boots echoed lightly through the passage. The machine didn't react. No twitch. No scan pulse. No attack.
Cadence whispered, "Maintain slow, uniform movement. Replicate the motion of the protectors outside. Limited knee flex. Minimal arm sway."
"I'm going to fall on my face."
"I will not judge."
"You always judge."
"Quiet. You are ruining the illusion."
I straightened my shoulders and tried to walk like the protectors: stiff, mechanical, zero personality. Basically how Cadence says I am on Mondays.
We got within five meters.
The machine still didn't move.
Four meters.
Still fine.
Three.
Still alive. Still blocking the path. Still buying our disguise.
I breathed quietly, fist clenched, just in case.
Two meters.
Cadence said, very softly, "Success probability increasing."
"One of these days your optimism is going to kill me."
"Optimism isn't in my programming. Pessimism, however, runs flawlessly."
We passed the machine's left side.
Close enough to touch.
Close enough to smell the metallic tang of its heating servos.
One meter.
Half a meter.
I exhaled.
Maybe, for the first time today, something was actually going to work.
Then the heavy fist hit my back like a truck made of hate.
The world snapped forward. My chest slammed into a steel beam. Pain exploded through my ribs.
ORGANIC MATTER DETECTED the machine boomed.
So much for camouflage.
I rolled across the floor, coughing."Cadence."
"Yes."
"You want to explain why it saw through that."
"I was unaware this model scans for biological material."
"Fantastic detail to miss."
"You did not ask."
"I didn't know I was to ask."
"Then we are both learning."
The machine turned toward me with mechanical patience, every movement slow and heavy like a glacier deciding it was finally time to kill someone.
It looked down at me."Threat classification. High."
Cadence said, "Iris, stand now."
"Be right with you."
The Model 40 took another step, the ground vibrating under its weight. My battery indicator flickered in the corner of my vision at 96%. Already lowering from the earlier fight.
Not good.
I pushed off the floor and got to my feet. My mechanical arm whined low in complaint. I shook it out and faced the machine.
Cadence said, "Your current odds of victory fall between concerning and improbable."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning I recommend creativity."
"I'll paint it a picture then."
The heavy unit swung its arm. The motion wasn't fast. But it didn't need to be. I ducked just in time. The strike hit the wall behind me, caving the metal inward.
The shockwave rattled my teeth.
I moved forward fast, jamming my mechanical fist into its chest plate with everything I had. Metal dented slightly.
The machine didn't even flinch.
Cadence said, "Your strike had the approximate effectiveness of a firm tap."
"No kidding."
The Model 40 reached for me. Massive fingers closed around my upper arm. Pressure built immediately. Servos strained. My structural integrity warning flashed.
I kicked at its knee joint. Nothing.
I slammed my palm under its chin. Nothing.
I pushed my mechanical arm to its limits. The motor screamed. Sparks spat between my shoulder seams as I pried its grip open just enough to slip free.
I stumbled backward and caught my breath.
Battery: 91 %.
Fighting this thing won't be easy.
The machine advanced again, its footsteps echoing in the chamber like war drums. It moved slow, steady, unavoidable. Every motion precise. No wasted energy.
Cadence said, "Iris. You cannot match it in direct strength."
"Noticed."
"You must either outmaneuver it or use environmental leverage."
"Meaning I run."
"Preferably."
"Not happening."
"I calculated that response."
The machine charged again. I sidestepped and slammed my foot into its ankle joint. This time I felt something give. Not much, but enough to shift its weight. The machine staggered half an inch.
Half an inch was a victory.
I hit it again. A sharp blow to the damaged panel from earlier. The dent widened. The machine turned its head toward me with mechanised irritation.
Then it swung.
I didn't dodge fast enough.
The back of its hand hit me across the chest and sent me flying into a support beam. The impact rattled my entire spine. I slid down to the floor, coughing hard.
Battery: 88 %.
Cadence said, "You must avoid letting it hit you."
"Working on it."
"I recommend working faster."
"Help would be great."
"I am trying to correct my processing interference. Please hold."
"Not the time to freeze."
"Do not tell me how to process."
The Model Forty's optics burned brighter as it closed in. Its arm rose again, ready to crush me like a bug pinned under a shoe.
I rolled aside. The arm slammed into the floor, sending a shudder through the whole chamber. Cracks spidered across the concrete.
I rose to a knee, then a shaky stand.
Cadence said, "Its armor is too thick to penetrate with standard strikes."
"You think."
"Its a technical evaluation"
"So what. I annoy it until it dies of boredom."
"No. You disable its joints."
"It barely reacted to that."
"You must target multiple points quickly. Cumulative stress will eventually compromise the limbs."
"I love long-term plans whilst under attack for the entire duration."
The heavy unit lumbered forward. I ducked under its swing. My hand found a seam in the armor near its abdomen. I drove my mechanical fingers into the gap and twisted hard.
Metal screamed. The machine jolted, turning sharply to swat me away. I let go and backed off before it could grab me again.
Battery: 83 %.
I was losing power faster than I liked.
The machine stepped forward again. Endless. Slow. Relentless.
Cadence said, "It is designed to outlast opponents. You must fight smart."
"I'm trying."
"Try smarter."
"I swear I'm going to uninstall you."
"You cannot. I am integrated."
The machine lunged with a sudden burst of speed. Faster than before. It caught me off guard. Its hand closed around my torso and lifted me off the ground.
Pressure built instantly. My ribs creaked.
"I need to get away."
"I did recommend evading tactics earlier."
"Still not happening."
"Stubborn, I did calculate that response."
My mechanical arm braced against its forearm. I kicked at its elbow joint. Metal bent a fraction. Another kick. Another. The joint sparked violently.
Finally, the joint buckled and the arm collapsed. I fell, hitting the ground hard.
Battery: 79 %.
I staggered up fast. The heavy unit rotated its torso to face me again, one arm dragging uselessly.
Cadence said, "You can win."
"Define win."
"Survive longer than it does."
"Not reassuring."
"It was not meant to be."
The machine charged again.
I met it head on.
The two of us slammed together with enough force to shake the entire passage. The world blurred around the edges. My mechanical arm strained to hold back its remaining limb.
We pushed against each other in a grinding deadlock.
Neither one giving ground.
Then the machine's head tilted, optics brightening.
"Renewed force authorized."
"Oh no," I muttered.
Cadence said, "Iris. Move now."
I didn't move fast enough.
The machine drove its whole body weight forward.