The silence in the room was so thick, Theo felt like he was suffocating. The dim lights flickered ominously, the faint hum of alien machinery a constant backdrop to the oppressive weight between him and Erasmus.

  Theo stood with his hands on his hips, all casual confidence—on the outside. Inside, his nerves prickled like static, buzzing under his skin.

  Erasmus, on the other hand, radiated pure, icy detachment. He stood at his console, long white hair catching the glow of flickering holograms. His fingers moved in precise, effortless motions, but his focus was locked onto Theo. That piercing gaze made Theo feel like an anomaly under a microscope, a mistake the universe hadn’t accounted for.

  “You are…” Erasmus began, pausing as if searching for the precise insult to convey his disdain, “…an unmitigated disaster.” His tone was devoid of emotion, making it somehow worse. “What exactly did you do for a living?”

  Theo shrugged, flashing an easy grin. “Flattery will get you everywhere. I was an MMA fighter. Undefeated. A prodigy, actually—humble, too.”

  Erasmus didn’t blink. “Ah. So, you destroyed people for a living. That is… completely expected.” He exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Why, out of all the infinite probabilities, did the universe decide to vomit you into my sanctuary?”

  Theo crossed his arms, his grin twitching slightly. “Yeah, this is exactly what I was hoping for too. Really living the dream here. But hey, you’re the one with all the answers.”

  Erasmus’s gaze hardened. “Not as many as I’d like.”

  Theo’s smirk returned, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “That must be horrible for you. I can only imagine the frustration.” He leaned forward slightly. “Anyway, instead of roasting me for no reason, do we have a plan? Or are we just gonna stand here and glare at each other?”

  Erasmus stared at him for a long moment, his lips pressed into a thin line. Finally, he sighed, muttered something under his breath, and smirked—just slightly. “That depends on you, actually.”

  He leaned back in his chair, lacing his fingers behind his head with complete nonchalance. “I have two options. I could simply leave. Find an unclaimed planet, start again. No real effort for me.”

  Theo narrowed his eyes. “Why can’t you just bring me?”

  Erasmus’s face contorted like he’d just been asked to drink dishwater. “First, because I don’t particularly enjoy your company.” He gestured vaguely at the lab. “Second, because I don’t currently have the technology to do so. And third, because the system took all the good stuff.”

  Theo pursed his lips. “Right. So what’s option two?”

  Erasmus tilted his chair back slightly, giving the air of a man utterly unbothered by universal-scale problems. “We see if there’s fun to be had here. EG thinks it can threaten me, and honestly?” He smirked. “I’d quite like to see it sweat a bit.”

  Theo threw his arms up. “Neither option sounds great for me.”

  Erasmus chuckled dryly, the sound like a blade being sharpened. “You are not even slightly wrong. But the second one is your best bet.”

  Theo contemplated the situation before him. So my choices are: die alone in five minutes, or let a mad scientist turn me into a half-man, half-bear, half-pig in ten. Tough call.

  Before he could answer, Erasmus turned back to his console, his fingers flying over the controls. A low rumble reverberated through the room, and a section of the far wall slid open with a mechanical hiss, revealing a dark corridor lined with pulsing, vein-like cables.

  Theo raised an eyebrow. “Oh, what fresh hell is this?”

  Erasmus didn’t answer immediately. He tapped one final command, the holographic console vanishing in a flicker of light. Then, turning to Theo, he clasped his hands behind his back, his expression unreadable.

  “It’s quite simple. You’re going to prove you’re not a complete waste of molecules first.” He gestured toward the corridor. “Through there is one of my testing facilities. My drones will be waiting for you.”

  Theo’s smirk wavered just slightly. “You know, this place did not look remotely big enough to have all these extra death traps from the outside. What the hell?”

  Erasmus barely spared him a glance. “I’m not even going to attempt to explain the intricacies of spatial compartmentalization and adaptive architecture to you.”

  Theo hesitated as those words bounced against his brain before plummeting into the void. “Yeah, that’s completely fair, actually.” He gestured vaguely at the corridor. “And these drones—are we talking tiny flying cameras spying on your neighbours, or more like... murder Roombas?”

  Erasmus’s lips twitched, though it wasn’t quite a smile. “Adaptive combat drones. They’ll test you. Think of it as... a job interview. Survive, and I might consider tolerating your continued existence.”

  Theo rubbed the back of his neck, his bravado cracking just enough to notice. “And if I don’t survive?”

  Erasmus shrugged. “Then I’ll mourn the tragic loss of a brilliant young man, taken before his time.”

  Theo squinted. "You’re not even gonna try to make that sound sincere, are you?"

  “Not in the slightest.”

  Theo was no stranger to combat, but this felt different. Too different. Still, he wasn’t nearly as panicked as he probably should be. Maybe it was the calming agent still buzzing through his system. Maybe it was the feeling that, for all his sneering condescension, Erasmus hadn’t dragged him this far just to let him die this quickly.

  …Probably.

  “Cool, cool. No pressure then,” Theo muttered. He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and grinned through the growing uncertainty. “Alright. Let’s get this over with.”

  The corridor’s air was cool and damp, carrying a faint metallic tang. The glowing cables pulsed in a rhythm that seemed to sync with Theo’s heartbeat—an unnerving sensation that made his skin crawl. His footsteps echoed against the smooth, obsidian-like floor as he moved cautiously forward.

  Then, a low whirring sound.

  Theo froze. His muscles tensed on instinct as something skittered in the shadows ahead. A sleek, spider-like drone emerged, its body a seamless blend of metal and organic material. Its many eyes glowed a menacing red, and its limbs ended in razor-sharp blades.

  This bastard… didn’t mention… SPIDERS?! Theo thought frantically, his fists clenching as he begged his legs not to run away immediately.

  The drone didn’t hesitate—it lunged.

  Theo barely dodged, the blade slicing through the air inches from his face. He stumbled back, his pulse pounding in his ears as adrenaline flooded his veins.

  “I can do this. Let’s pretend I don’t turn into a six-year-old girl at the thought of arachnids,” he muttered, a forced grin tugging at his lips despite the sheer terror.

  The drone skittered forward, unnervingly fast and precise, its blade-like limbs slicing through the air. But Theo had seen fast before. He had fought fast before.

  He exhaled slowly—a long, measured breath—and the world narrowed. The crowd, the bright lights, the screaming fans—none of it was here, but his body reacted the same way.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  A fight was a fight. Didn’t matter if it was in a cage or against a blade-wielding tin can.

  He wasn’t just watching the drone—he was breaking it down. The rhythm of its skittering movements—too uniform, predictable in short bursts. The slight hitch in its weight shift before attacking—momentary lag in its recalibration. The way its front legs bore more weight than the back—off-balance when it lunged.

  Theo had always been able to do this. Never one to fight angry. Definitely not a “I just see red, bro,” guy. He didn’t think about it—he just knew.

  The drone struck.

  He moved before his mind finished processing why, dodging a fraction of a second ahead of the attack, just enough to let it miss by inches. His eyes snapped to the thin plating at its core, and without hesitation, he adjusted.

  A loose cable hung from the wall—a weapon. He grabbed it mid-motion, swinging in a fluid arc. Sparks flew as the metal snapped against the drone’s chassis.

  No damage.

  Theo quickly realized this wasn’t a movie and shit like that didn’t just pan out.

  The drone remained unhurt, however, it did hesitate.

  That was enough.

  Theo closed the gap instantly, his elbow driving into the core with pinpoint precision. The impact sent a jolt up his arm, but the drone collapsed in a heap of twitching limbs.

  Silence.

  Theo rolled his shoulders, exhaling sharply. The fight was over.

  His mind let go of the hyper-focus, widening again, adjusting back to reality. The shift was seamless—he had done this a thousand times before.

  “Fucking. Ow!” Theo shrieked, panting heavily as he stared at the lifeless machine. “One down, none to go, hopefully.”

  Erasmus observed the proceedings with a mixture of annoyance and intrigue. The holographic display tracked Theo’s progress, every movement analyzed in real-time.

  “Good God, you’re reckless,” Erasmus muttered, though the corner of his mouth twitched slightly. “Maybe don’t cuddle the death drones?”

  Theo’s voice crackled through the intercom. “Oh, right. I’ll step back and hurl mind bullets at it.”

  Erasmus sighed and pressed a button on the console. “I’m just surprised you haven’t impaled yourself yet.”

  “Aw, you care,” Theo replied, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “So what’s next? Bigger drones? Laser turrets? A surprise boss fight?”

  Erasmus’s smirk grew. “Keep going and find out.”

  The deeper Theo ventured, the worse it got. The drones grew smarter, more coordinated, forcing him to think on his feet. His body ached from near-misses, shallow cuts, and the strain of constant movement. But his stubbornness burned brighter than the pain.

  Then, he reached the final chamber.

  At its centre stood a towering drone, twice the size of the others. Its metallic body gleamed under the flickering lights, its many limbs bristling with weapons.

  Theo grinned despite himself. “Boss battle. Called it.”

  He immediately regretted it.

  There was no obvious weak spot. No glowing “kill me here” sign. Just a solid, metallic casing with four limbs—each ending in something distinctly lethal. A boxy sensor with a thick grate sat atop its cylindrical body, presumably housing its targeting system.

  Theo exhaled slowly, his pulse steadying, his senses sharpening. His mind slipped into that familiar place—where the noise, the exhaustion, the distractions all fell away. His eyes flicked over the drone, tracking the minute shifts in its stance, the almost imperceptible recalibrations of its limbs. It moved with precision, but not unpredictability. Every machine had patterns.

  Then the crimson glow started at the end of each limb, and they all clasped their ends together.

  Oh, hell no.

  An ominous hum built inside the drone. Theo had played enough video games to know a charge-up attack when he saw one.

  He bolted sideways, weaving behind boxes and shelves.

  The drone let out a high-pitched squeal as its energy peaked—then unleashed a scorching beam.

  Theo barely had time to react before the blast slammed into his cover, superheating the metal shelving behind him and pinning him against the wall.

  The heat prickled his skin, the acrid smell of burning metal filling his lungs. His hoodie sizzled at the edges. If he stayed here any longer, he was going to cook.

  Theo gritted his teeth, his mind racing. The drone had locked onto him. The shelving wouldn’t last much longer before the heat melted straight through it—and him.

  Options.

  Breaking away head-on? Death.

  Waiting it out? Death.

  Think, Kane.

  Theo pressed against the superheated surface, his fingers digging into the metal. He couldn’t break out with brute force alone—but he could use leverage.

  His knee came up, wedging itself between his chest and the shelf.

  Create space.

  He shifted his weight, testing the tension.

  It was loose at the edges—not fully melted yet.

  Theo exhaled sharply, forcing his legs into the metal, his thighs burning from the heat, but his grip held. Using every bit of power in his core, he pushed outward.

  The metal gave—just enough.

  Theo twisted, rolling his shoulder into the gap he’d created, then threw himself forward.

  The shelf buckled under the pressure, snapping free from its warped joints, and Theo crashed onto the floor in a heap, sucking in burning-hot air.

  No time to recover.

  He rolled sideways, just as another blast ripped through the shelving, turning it into molten slag where he’d been trapped seconds ago.

  Jesus fuck, I’d have been toast if that hit me. Like, literally.

  Adrenaline drowned out the pain. His eyes flicked upward, scanning his surroundings. He needed an opening. Now.

  His gaze landed on exposed pipes running along the ceiling, their frost-covered surfaces marked with red safety warnings.

  Coolant.

  My turn.

  Bursting from cover, Theo sprinted toward the drone, zigzagging to avoid its tracking sensors. The high-pitched whine warned of another shot.

  At the last second, he vaulted onto a stack of crates and leaped toward the pipes.

  The drone twitched, trying to adjust—but Theo was faster. He swung the metal shard upward with both hands, shattering the nearest pipe.

  A spray of frigid coolant erupted, engulfing the drone’s upper body.

  It screeched, its movements jerking as frost coated its sensors and servos. Theo dropped to the ground, landing in a crouch as ice and sparks flew in all directions.

  But it wasn’t done.

  With a guttural whir, the drone countered with a burst of heat, defrosting itself in seconds. Then it lunged, its scythe-like limbs slicing toward him.

  Oh, that’s just not even fair.

  The expectation that Erasmus wouldn’t allow him to die quickly was growing less believable by the second.

  Theo’s gaze flicked to the exposed core, faintly glowing beneath the frost-covered plating. His mind processed the angles, the reach of its attacks, the delay between movements. The forward momentum of its strike left it momentarily unbalanced. That was his window.

  Time to finish this.

  He charged, dodging the swinging limbs. Every instinct screamed at him to retreat. He ignored it.

  The drone reared back, trying to crush him in a downward strike with all four limbs combined to one giant hammer attack.

  Theo lunged forward instead, grabbing a metallic limb and wrenching it sideways. The unexpected counter threw the drone off-kilter, shifting its centre of gravity just enough.

  Theo climbed onto its back.

  With a sharp inhale, he jammed the jagged metal into the exposed core and twisted with everything he had.

  The drone spasmed violently, its limbs flailing in wild arcs before a deafening pop filled the air, followed by a series of cascading explosions.

  Theo kicked away, barely rolling clear as the machine collapsed in a heap of ruined metal.

  Theo stumbled out of the chamber, his clothes torn, his body feeling like it had just been put through a meat grinder—twice. He collapsed onto the cold floor of the control room, chest heaving, arms spread like he was trying to merge with the tiles.

  Erasmus loomed over him, his expression as unreadable as ever. After a long pause, he extended a hand.

  Theo stared at it like it might explode, then sighed and took it. His entire body protested as Erasmus hauled him to his feet with ease.

  “Sorry…” Theo wheezed, wincing as he rolled his shoulder. “…I broke your sex bot.”

  Erasmus didn’t even blink, instead staring down at a data tablet. He muttered absently, “You got very, very lucky.”

  Theo let out an exhausted scoff. “Oh, come on. Can’t you ever just say ‘Good job, Theo’? Maybe sprinkle in a ‘Wow, Theo, you’re amazing, and I’m honoured to bask in your presence’?”

  Erasmus still wasn’t looking at him. “I’m not talking about the examination just now. I mean your brain activity.”

  Theo blinked. “Uh… thanks? I think?”

  Erasmus let out an exasperated sigh, finally striding toward his control panel, his movements unusually sharp—determined.

  Theo frowned, rubbing his temples as he tried to shake off the exhaustion. “Should I be worried? Because I feel like I should be worried.”

  Erasmus didn’t respond. He was already deep in whatever new realisation had just hijacked his brain.

  Theo groaned, running a hand down his face. “Yeah. I’m definitely worried.”