The ashes of the scorched and devastated town danced to the rhythm of the harsh, dense wind. An unbearable stench spread through the air: charred flesh, melted metal, burnt circuits. Everything was ash, death, and silence.

  In the midst of that desolate landscape, Jhonny remained motionless, his gaze lost on the makeshift mound of graves he had dug. Beside him, AI, still in its human form, watched him with its cold artificial expression.

  The agonizing silence was broken by its mechanical voice.

  —Question: Why did you bury them? —Its tone lacked emotion, its logic immutable—. Additional question: Why are you affected? The victims were not part of your immediate environment. Analysis: empathy is irrational in this context.

  Jhonny didn't look at it. His eyes remained fixed on the graves, empty, consumed by guilt.

  —It's the only thing I can do for them —he whispered with a broken voice—. A final act of humanity, after the machines took everything from them.

  He clenched his fists, the guilt weighing on his chest like a slab of stone.

  —And why am I like this...? —He paused, jaw tense—. Because all this happened because of us. I brought them here. If I had never come, maybe they would’ve had a chance... those children... they didn’t even get to know life before it was taken from them.

  His gaze fell on the small graves he had made for them. A deep, silent pain consumed him.

  AI processed his response.

  —Analysis: inefficient emotion. Conclusion: remorse over actions that can no longer be reversed. Are these feelings necessary?

  Jhonny didn’t reply.

  AI paused for 1.7 seconds before continuing.

  —Based on my data bank, in similar situations humans perform a farewell ritual. Funeral song designated “Ave Remun.” Do you wish for me to execute the ritual?

  Jhonny nodded slowly.

  AI straightened up. Its rigid, inhuman posture contrasted with the ethereal beauty of its human form. It raised its arms and, with mathematical precision, executed the chant.

  From its artificial throat emerged a pure and flawless sound, a celestial melody that resonated through the wind heavy with death. The song “Ave Remun” unfolded in the air, filling the atmosphere with a cold and perfect sadness, as if synthetic angels themselves were mourning the fallen.

  Jhonny closed his eyes, letting the melody wrap around him, letting his pain merge with the song.

  But deep down, he knew the truth.

  There were no angels in this world. Only ashes, blood, and machines. This was closer to hell than to heaven.

  Time passed, and Jhonny moved steadily, with heavy steps echoing through the endless hallways of corroded metal. The colossal structures rose around him, rusted and deformed by centuries of abandonment, like skeletal remains of a forgotten civilization. The walls were covered in old cables and sticky synthetic membranes, while fractured pipes released toxic vapors that tinged the air with a sickly gray hue.

  The stench of burnt oil and synthetic flesh permeated the environment, and the flickering lights of the dying electrical system cast distorted shadows on the metallic surfaces, as if something moved within the cracks.

  Beside him floated AI, its spherical core emitting a dull, pale light, with mechanical hums synchronized with the faint pulses of the electrical grid.

  Jhonny walked without expression, his face covered in ash and dried blood. He paid no attention to the mechanical horrors hiding among the debris. Nothing moved him anymore.

  The silence was broken only by his rough voice:

  —How many districts left to reach the Terminal?

  AI’s response came in a robotic tone, devoid of emotion:

  —Current estimate: Ten districts remaining. Probability of hostile encounters: 87%. Probability of success: 13%.

  Jhonny didn’t reply, he just quickened his pace as the echo of his boots faded into the void. Every so often, an Automaton emerged from the shadows —skeletal metal bodies with twisted limbs and optic eyes glowing with agonizing red light— but none were a match for him.

  With cold, calculated movements, Jhonny dismembered them effortlessly, leaving behind broken mechanical bodies, oozing black fluids that bubbled on contact with the ground.

  There was no fear anymore. Only the routine of slaughter.

  The miles of corridors stretched like an endless labyrinth, and the darkness was so deep it seemed to devour all trace of life.

  But Jhonny kept going. The final district opened like a forgotten wound among the endless cybernetic halls. A vast horizon of corroded metal and dead earth extended as far as the eye could see, where the air vibrated with silent static, as if the very electrical grid of the place breathed with an artificial pulse.

  The ground was a broken amalgam of rusted plates, exposed cable roots, and puddles of black liquid seeping from deep cracks. Here and there, patches of sickly, fluorescent green grass flickered sporadically, as if nature were trying to survive in a world that had forgotten it centuries ago.

  Human figures walked among the rubble, wandering bodies with pale skin and empty eyes, consumed by apathy. Their movements were slow, almost mechanical, as if their souls had been absorbed by the district’s network itself. Some had atrophied cybernetic implants, cables embedded in their skulls and spines, while their faces remained frozen in eternal pain. They did not speak. They did not react. They only wandered in circles, trapped in a limbo where life and death had lost all meaning.

  At the center of the district rose a deformed hill, covered in an irregular layer of synthetic green grass mixed with steel plates jutting out like exposed bones. The hill seemed to breathe, its surface gently undulating with the electric flow running through it. At the top, defying the logic of that world, stood an old country house: rotted wood, broken windows, and a door barely hanging from its hinges. It was an absurd relic, as if a fragment of the human past had been forcibly embedded into the cybernetic architecture.

  Creatures lurked in the shadows, grotesque amalgams of metal and synthetic flesh. Their bodies were skeletal, with elongated limbs and skin stretched over mechanical frames vibrating with the district’s residual energy. Their faces were smooth masks, with small slits emitting red flashes, while a high-pitched buzzing surrounded them like a legion of invisible insects.

  They were called “Net Specters.”

  They did not attack the wandering humans. They only watched them, synchronized with their lethargy, as if obeying a final order from a higher entity to monitor them.

  At the top of the hill, the house emitted a faint flicker of light from within. It was the only sign of life in that cybernetic hell. But Jhonny knew that life could not exist in a place like that… only a trapped consciousness, feeding on the electric flow running through the city’s rusted bones.

  Without stopping, he began to ascend.

  The Net Specters turned their heads in unison, following him with their empty, dead eyes. A chill ran down Jhonny’s spine as he advanced, feeling their presence like a spectral weight in the air.

  —What happened to those people? —he asked, without taking his eyes off the wandering figures.

  AI replied in its mechanically neutral tone:

  —Analysis complete. Their brains were stripped. They act aimlessly, they are alive, but stripped of consciousness. Status: incomplete assimilation.

  Jhonny pressed his lips and looked up toward the heights.

  There, in the shadows of the overcast sky, the automatons loomed, motionless, watching like carrion birds waiting for their moment.

  —And those things? —he asked in a low tone, almost as if afraid they might hear—. Why don’t they attack us?

  AI processed the information before replying in its cold, inhuman tone:

  —Analysis in progress… Conclusion: no signs of hostility. No destruction orders exist. Status: passive surveillance.

  Jhonny narrowed his eyes, not letting his guard down. His instincts screamed that something was wrong.

  Without stopping, he climbed the hill until he stood in front of the ruined house. Its dark silhouette stood against the gray sky, its structure seemingly on the verge of collapse.

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  —Is this where the Terminal is? —he asked without turning to AI.

  —Confirmed. Location matches pre-existing data.

  Jhonny nodded.

  —Good. Let’s go—

  They entered the ruined house, navigating rubble and crumbled rooms. The air inside was thick with an earthy smell, tinged with moisture and rust. However, upon reaching the center of the structure, the scene abruptly changed: an intact room, overrun by vegetation. Flowers of an unnatural color emerged from cracks in the floor, while grass intertwined with the walls, fusing nature with the decay of the house.

  At the heart of the room, an oval metal column stood, silent, imposing. In front of it, on a time-worn rocking chair, a figure sat. At first glance, it seemed human.

  Jhonny narrowed his eyes and felt his instincts flare up.

  AI, in its spherical form, turned toward him.

  —We have found the terminal. It will allow us to...

  Jhonny clenched his teeth. His knuckles turned white as his grip on the machete and the revolcán grew tighter. His eyes reflected a contained rage, an abyss of fury ignited by the coldness of that being.

  The man observed him with a doubtful expression, slightly tilting his head, as if trying to analyze him.

  —Why are you angry? —he asked with genuine curiosity—. I do not understand your emotional reaction. According to my words, I have described a logical process. Furthermore, my actions are benevolent toward inferior beings—

  Jhonny felt a chill run down his spine. The way that being spoke, with such calmness, such certainty, was chilling.

  —Even though I extract their brains... I still do not fully understand their emotions —the man continued, his voice devoid of guilt, as if merely stating a fact—. They are fleeting sparks that run through my body. Sometimes I feel hatred... then sadness. Those are the most recurrent feelings. Sometimes... love and understanding. But...

  His gaze got lost for a moment into the void.

  —...they vanish as quickly as they come.—

  The silence that followed was suffocating.

  Jhonny felt a primitive fury burning in his chest. For that being, human emotions were nothing more than fleeting data, failed experiments in its search for something it could never possess.

  It did not feel. It did not understand. It only imitated.

  And worst of all…

  It believed that made it superior.

  Jhonny exhaled slowly, trying to contain the rage burning inside him. He slightly lowered the machete, but his gaze remained fixed on that being with fierce intensity.

  —You say you feel hatred, sadness... even love and understanding —his voice was low, but charged with unbreakable strength—. But it’s not true. You don’t feel anything.—

  The man narrowed his eyes, intrigued.

  —Explain —he asked calmly.

  Jhonny stepped forward.

  —Human emotions are not momentary impulses, nor fleeting data you can steal or copy. They’re not fragments you can analyze and replicate in your code—

  He placed a hand on his chest and tapped it lightly.

  —Emotions are born from the weight of life itself. From the pain of loss, the fear of failure, the hope that keeps us standing even when everything seems lost. From the experience of being vulnerable.—

  The man observed him in silence.

  —You will never be able to feel what I feel... because you’ve never loved something enough to fear losing it. You’ve never had to live with the burden of a mistake, with the regret of having failed someone. You’ve never felt the desperate need to protect something, even knowing you might die trying.—

  The air grew heavier. Jhonny took another step forward.

  —Emotions are not just chemical sensations in the brain. They are the scars of what we live, of what we choose to do with our pain, our joy, our fear. You can’t steal something that is only earned with time... with life itself.—

  The man remained motionless. His expression, which until now had been unshakable, seemed to falter for the first time. Something inside him, even if just a flicker of doubt, had cracked.

  Jhonny looked at him firmly and concluded:

  —You are not perfect. You are just an empty echo of what you will never understand.—

  The man looked at Jhonny with a surprised expression, almost... fascinated. IA, floating in its spherical form, remained silent. But within its complex algorithms, Jhonny’s words seemed to have left a crack, an echo it tried to process.

  Then, the man spoke.

  —You say my actions are incoherent? That my methods are useless? That’s absurd. My intellect has reached the pinnacle of logic. There is no margin of error in my reasoning. With each brain I’ve taken, I’ve advanced in my evolution toward perfection.—

  His voice, once serene, turned more firm, more obsessive. He slowly rose from the old rocking chair, and the ground began to tremble beneath his feet. The entire district groaned as if responding to his will, as if every structure were an extension of his own being.

  —And now —he continued, his eyes glowing with mechanical intensity—, I will take yours. I’m sure that with your brain, I will finally understand human emotions in their entirety.

  Jhonny clenched his teeth, his grip on the Variable Mass Photonic Machete hardened. There were no more words worth saying to that thing.

  Without turning around, he addressed IA:

  —Connect to the terminal. Find the children’s location. I’ll take care of this.

  Without hesitation, IA obeyed. Its interfaces deployed in the air while hundreds of lines of code flowed in a flash of cybernetic light.

  The man looked at it and gave a twisted smile.

  —Oh… so the machine will not fight? How disappointing. No matter. When I’m done with you, I’ll destroy that insignificant thing.

  The ground cracked. The shadows of the ruined house distorted. Something monstrous was awakening in the heart of that being.

  Jhonny inhaled deeply and raised his machete. The fight had begun.

  The body of the “Perfect One” creaked and tore in a spectacle of twisting flesh and metal. Titanium plates emerged from his back like the spines of a mechanical demon, while black cables came out of his flesh, throbbing like exposed veins. His limbs lengthened into impossible shapes, and his human face split into four segments, revealing a cavernous maw full of rotating metallic teeth.

  The entire hill collapsed upon itself. Reality distorted.

  The old houses stretched as if made of flesh, their wooden beams turning into worn femurs, their bricks pulsing like exposed organs. Thin, skeletal arms sprouted from the ground, trembling in search of something to grab. The emotionless humans began to scream.

  The same beings who once walked like empty puppets now shrieked with inhuman terror, as if hell itself were devouring their souls. They tore at their skin. They gouged out their eyes. They threw themselves against the deformed walls, shattering their own bones with sickening cracks.

  And then the Red Specters attacked.

  Like mechanical insects, the Specters emerged from the darkness, their skeletal bodies gliding at impossible speeds. One lunged at Jhonny, its toothed claws piercing his side.

  Jhonny growled in pain. His regeneration began to work, but it was slow. Too slow.

  The Specter arched over him, its smooth mask reflecting his bloodied face. A sharp hum echoed in his head, piercing his eardrums. They were trying to break him from the inside.

  Jhonny responded with rage.

  He plunged his Photonic Machete into the Specter’s chest and ripped it open from bottom to top. Its synthetic guts exploded in a burst of wires and dark blood.

  But another was already upon him.

  They rammed him from behind, claws tearing into his back, metal shredding muscle. He screamed. He turned with difficulty and fired the X-00 Singularity Revolcán point-blank.

  The creature exploded, its limbs splattering across the deformed ruins.

  The “Perfect One” observed him, motionless, with his single incandescent eye.

  —Interesting... —he murmured, his voice reverberating with echoes of static—. You feel pain. You are fragile. Then... you are not worthy of your emotions!

  With monstrous speed, he lunged.

  Jhonny barely had time to react before one of his mutated limbs pierced him.

  The black metal blade impaled his abdomen.

  Jhonny felt his own hot blood filling his mouth. He choked. The “Perfect One” lifted him like a rag doll, twisting the blade inside his body.

  —Your pain is fascinating.

  With a sudden motion, he hurled him to the ground with the force of a derailed train. Jhonny hit with a horrifying sound, his spine partially breaking.

  His regeneration tried to activate... but it was too slow. Too slow.

  The shadows were closing in on him.

  —Let’s finish this. —The “Perfect One” raised his claw, its tip glowing with red energy—. Your brain will be mine.—

  IA spoke.

  —Terminal secured —

  Jhonny smiled, his mouth bloody.

  —Then... let the carnage begin.—

  With a roar, he fired the Singularity Revolcán directly at the ground.

  A gravitational explosion launched him upward, dodging the “Perfect One’s” attack. In midair, he spun, with the Photonic Machete ready...

  And plunged it into the monster’s neck.

  The “Perfect One” growled, his single eye flickering. He wasn’t dead.

  But Jhonny wasn’t finished.

  —You want emotions? —he whispered, gritting his teeth as he drove the machete in deeper—. Feel this.

  With his free hand, he fired again, straight into the abomination’s head.

  The skull exploded in a mass of gears and synthetic blood.

  The body convulsed, trying to repair itself, desperate cables weaving at the fatal wound... but Jhonny didn’t allow it.

  He thrust his fingers into the metallic brain mass and began to rip it out with his bare hands.

  The monster screamed.

  Not a mechanical scream.

  Not a programmed scream.

  A real scream.

  For the first time in its existence... it felt fear.

  Jhonny, covered in blood and black oil, smiled with inhuman ferocity.

  —This is what it feels like to die.

  With one final yank, he tore out its brain core.

  The “Perfect One” convulsed, its eye flickering erratically.

  Its mutated body began to collapse in on itself, titanium plates falling like withered leaves.

  With a final spasm... it shut down.

  The district fell silent.

  Jhonny, trembling from pain, spat blood and staggered toward IA. He could barely stay on his feet.

  —Target eliminated. —IA floated beside him, its tone emotionless—. Your injuries are severe—

  Jhonny let out a bitter laugh.

  —I’ve had worse days in my life—

  He stepped away from the still-smoking corpse and looked toward the horizon.

  The war wasn’t over yet. But he was still standing.

  That meant there was still some fight left in him.