Chapter 656: Quiet

Grey pushed himself up from the couch with one hand braced against the armrest, only for the pain in his lower body to surge hard enough that his knees nearly gave out beneath him.

He caught himself with Virtueless before he fell, planted the weapon against the floor like a cane, and waited several seconds for the nausea to settle while the red light outside swept through the room again.

Whatever was wrong with his body, it was getting harder to pretend Sabrina’s kick alone explained it.

Benn had already picked up an old shovel, Sabrina still had her garden rake, and James and Duke had somehow armed themselves with a hoe and what looked like a broken pitchfork.

Grey stared at the collection for a moment before laughing despite how much even that hurt, then shook his head as he limped toward the door. "What the fuck are you going to do with those, exactly, mildly inconvenience them?"

Duke looked down at his pitchfork as though Grey had insulted a treasured family weapon. "It has pointy bits."

"Yeah, I’m sure the killer robots are terrified." Grey reached the door, then looked back when Sabrina tried to follow and held up one hand. "Stay inside, all of you, and for once in your lives try listening before you make my problem worse."

The moment Grey stepped outside, six patrol units turned toward him in almost perfect unison, three more than had been there when he first reached the farm. The damaged machines from before had already repaired themselves, their frames now carrying denser plating around the places Grey had struck, while the new arrivals hovered farther back with their red scanners sweeping over the house and fields.

Grey leaned more heavily against Virtueless as he took all of it in, then sighed when the nearest machine announced that continued resistance would result in escalating restraint.

"You guys really suck at taking hints."

The first unit shot forward, and Grey dragged Virtueless up from the ground before swinging through its shoulder hard enough to cave half of its torso inward. The weapon did far more damage than the baseball bat ever had, but the pain in Grey’s body seized his hips before he could properly follow through, leaving him open just long enough for another machine to drive a fist into his ribs.

Grey hit the dirt, rolled before a second strike could land, then forced himself back upright while his Neural Frame screamed through pathways that felt sluggish and strangely disconnected.

It was only pain, or at least that was what Grey kept telling himself as he rushed forward again and slipped beneath another arm. He drove Virtueless through the side of the nearest machine, ripped upward until its frame nearly split in half, then slammed the weapon back down through the exposed center before the metallic threads could begin stitching it together.

The unit finally collapsed, but the other five had already adjusted their stances and shifted plating toward the exact areas Grey had attacked.

Grey tried the same angle against the next machine and barely dented it, then attempted to redirect when his left leg suddenly locked from hip to ankle. The hesitation cost him another strike across the back that sent him face-first into the ground, and by the time he rolled away from the descending foot behind him, sweat was already pouring down his face.

His body wasn’t simply weaker than it should have been, it was responding to pain as though every signal had been amplified several times over.

That irritated Grey more than the robots did. He pushed will through his Neural Frame and tried to suppress the pain the same way he had ignored injuries a hundred times before, treating it like useless information that didn’t deserve his attention. For half a second his limbs answered normally, then the entire lower half of his body seized again and a metal elbow cracked across his jaw hard enough to fill his vision with white.

Grey stumbled, tasted blood, and growled at himself through clenched teeth as though his own body were just another opponent refusing to listen.

"Move, you piece of shit."

Grey charged anyway, dragging Virtueless through the dirt before tearing it upward with both hands in a strike that took another patrol unit from the waist up. He planted the weapon through its exposed core before it could recover, twisted until the internal structure collapsed, then used the rod to keep himself standing as the remaining four spread around him.

He had taken down two, but the price was obvious now, his breathing was ragged, his movements were becoming increasingly uneven, and every machine left had learned from what killed the first pair.

One of them rushed from his blind side while another attacked from the front, forcing Grey to turn awkwardly on a leg that barely wanted to support him. He blocked the first strike with Virtueless but missed the second entirely, and a metal hand closed around his ankle before ripping his foot out from under him.

Grey slammed down hard, twisted to strike from the ground, then cursed when a second machine caught his wrist while a third stepped close enough to clamp onto Virtueless before he could pull it free.

"Cease resistance," one of them warned as Grey fought against the restraints, his muscles trembling while his Neural Frame continued drowning beneath signals he couldn’t shut out.

He tried to force himself upright through pure will, pouring everything he had into moving one arm, one leg, anything, only to feel his own body refuse him again. That was when the farmhouse door slammed open behind him.

"SABRINA, DON’T!"

Grey’s head snapped toward the house as Sabrina came running across the yard with the garden rake still in both hands, her expression leaving no doubt that she hadn’t thought past the first second of her plan.

Benn reacted faster than anyone else, dropping his shovel and rushing after her despite his age, while James, Duke, and Lilac shouted from behind them.

Grey’s stomach dropped as he realized the patrol units were already turning toward the new movement.

"GET BACK INSIDE!"

Sabrina ignored him and swung at the nearest machine, only for its arm to move so quickly that Grey barely followed the motion. Benn did, and he grabbed Sabrina from behind just in time to yank her away from the strike meant for her.

The blow caught him instead, and the sound that followed was deep and ugly as Benn’s body folded around the impact before being launched several meters through the yard.

Sabrina’s scream ripped across the property, and whatever hesitation had remained in the others disappeared with it. James, Duke, and Lilac charged from the house with their improvised weapons while Sabrina tore herself free and went after the machine again, but Grey already knew what was about to happen.

He had forced these patrol units to improve against him, and now ordinary people were stepping into a fight calibrated around the strength needed to restrain Grey Temolt.

James took a strike across the chest and spun through the air, Duke was folded around a fist to the stomach before crashing onto his side, and Lilac was swept off her feet hard enough that she bounced across the grass before going still.

Sabrina managed one more step toward Benn before a backhand sent her into the side of the house, her body sliding down the wall as the garden rake fell from her hand.

Grey stared at them while the machines continued holding his ankle, wrist, and weapon, and for a moment the pain flooding his body seemed almost distant.

Benn wasn’t moving, James and Duke had collapsed where they landed, Lilac lay twisted in the grass, and Sabrina remained slumped against the wall after taking a strike that should never have been aimed at a normal human body.

The patrol units had meant those attacks to be non-lethal, Grey could tell from every one of their exchanges that they hadn’t been trying to kill. They were also only improving so that they’d be just strong enough to restrain and impose will, but not strong enough that they’d truly take a pound of flesh.

But the problem was that every time Grey forced them to adapt and improve wasn’t just going to be erased before a new opponent. In fact, they were probably reassessing the strength of everyone on Earth because of his actions.

And now his friends... no, his family were suffering because of it.

Something inside Grey went completely quiet.

His eyes turned red as the machine holding his wrist repeated another warning, but the words disappeared beneath the sound tearing its way out of his chest.

Grey roared with enough fury that the air around him seemed to shudder, and red-gold flames suddenly erupted from his skin, racing through his veins and blazing outward until the yard was drowned in their light.

The pain was still there, his body was still broken and sluggish, but for the first time since returning to Earth, Prometheus answered him.