I count four turrets guarding the entrance above the square, each manned by a Suit. Archer Lethe, presumably deep at the center of his fortress with only one way in.
A rock’s thrown, smacking one of the droids in its breastplate stamped with the Lethe eagle. It takes the hit without retaliation. Another rock swiftly follows.
My eye spots others watching the scene unfold from the windows of their skyscrapers, frightened, unable to muster the courage to stand up for themselves, conditioned into the fetal. I wonder if that would’ve been me if Selene wouldn’t have chosen me. What would have become of me if I never plugged into the Delta Project?
The wind picks up. With it, a strange stillness.
My feet anchored, head on a swivel.
“What more beautiful a morning is there to die, Kronos?” shouts Selene over the quieting crowd. “This is our place in history. This is our time to shine! With the light that rains from our gunfire, shine we will! Men and women of Olympia, always remember, we are but pawns for a purpose much greater than ourselves. Rejoice! For our names will never be forgotten! That is my future. That is our future! That is the future of the world! The time is fucking now!!”
I can feel my pulse pounding my temples. A unified passion surges through my veins. Her words shoot an energy through not only me but every ear in the square, unlocking something buried deep within us all.
The droids in front of us become more restless.
There is a hunger in us, a hunger that can only be satisfied by the blood of the Lethe Corporation, and we aren’t stopping until every one of us has had our take, until we are all full.
A blinding flash blinks from the hills just outside Olympia is followed by a deep, petrifying thunder. On the rolling skyline, miles away, massive blue streaks of lightning spiders towards the stars around a mushroom cloud of multicolored fire and thick, black smoke as tall as the city itself.
Not a word is uttered. Every eye facing the direction of the solar farm.
The earth trembles underneath the city. Buildings sway. A cloud of dust moves through us like a ghost storm. Glass shatters, every window, a million pieces showering over us. The streetlights flicker, then go dark.
One by one, every light in the city, all of them. Powerless. Pitch black.
The insidious red eyes of the droid army before us pierce the darkness. Motionless. Waiting.
A squadron of Lethe enforcers races in the direction of the funnel cloud overhead.
“For justice!” is screamed into the dark.
From only the light of the stars and fires burning behind, I watch.
Selene throws her sign to the ground, flings the poncho over her head, and fires her blaster from the hip. A line of droids hit the ground before her poncho does.
The others are seconds behind. All of Kronos, at once, tossing their pickets down and firing their hidden weapons into the front lines of the Lethe army.
Lethe returns fire.
Protestors fall wherever their lead or fragment touches, indifferent to the unarmed or uninvolved.
Bullets scream around me.
I remain frozen, unable to breathe, every muscle locked into place.
People scramble, diving for cover behind trash piles and burnt vehicles, anywhere they can find refuge.
“Well don’t just sit there. Kill something!” yells Vulcan, aiming his gravity launcher at the closest powerless turret.
He fires.
A cyan, electric orb leaves his barrel, flies through the air, and sticks to the outer wall of the tower beside it. The plasma activates on impact, sucking two droids, a Suit, and the energy turret from its mount, crushing the metal as it sinks impossibly into the fist-sized ball, sparking brighter, then fizzling out of existence.
Lethe gunfire rains heavy in his direction, focusing their attack on Vulcan.
He narrowly escapes, sprinting into the shadows of the abandoned building we arrived in through an adjacent door.
I remain hidden, laying behind a concrete barrier.
After a few moments, I finally gather enough courage to remove the poncho and stand, weapon slung over my shoulder.
Their bullets burrow into the concrete around me.
Taking a deep breath, I exhale, bringing the rifle to my shoulder. Aim. Then, pull the trigger.
The bolt slams home, sending my projectile through the face of an enemy droid.
My eye creates an augmented trajectory like before, retinal hololight projecting a path into the kill spots of the enemy within firing range. With every pull of the trigger, another falls until the first of my magazines runs dry.
Lethe reinforcements storm from inside the tower, funneling out of the main entrance behind the turrets.
The droid army regroups, marching over their fallen. They break into different formations, separating, redirecting fire.
Waiting for the right moment, I rush into the building Vulcan disappeared into. The door leads to a hollow stairwell beside a dark elevator. The only light peeks in from the holes shot through the plaster walls.
I find him behind a broken window on the second floor, an eye in the scope of a sniper. He looks up at me, uses his blouse to wipe the inside of his goggles. “You good?”
“I’m good,” I say, clearing the sweat from my eyes.
“Good.”
The subtle hum of the room’s electronics powering on is followed swiftly by the jarring blindness of the interior lights overhead. Either they’ve repaired the power, or they’ve turned on the backup generators, which means the energy turrets are up. Not good.
Jumping to the closest open window, I rip the cover hanging over it and push a side table out of the way. Outside three turrets remain guarding the front entrance, armed, and firing. To make things worse a half dozen Lethe enforcers just arrived and are hovering overhead, shooting into the portable bunkers our men have deployed.
My upgrade spots Selene and Hector below us, tucked between a burning ground-truck and a pile of decommissioned droids fighting unmercifully.
On their blindside I spot another squad of metal men following a Suit, attempting to flank.
I lift my rifle, zoom in.
His suit is dirty, streaked with smoke. His black hair
