CHAPTER 12: A.I CONFRONTATION 4

Continuation....

MORINJO

Chaos surrounds me. I'm standing atop the Statue of Liberty, clinging to its weathered crown as the city crumbles beneath me. The world is falling apart, and there's nothing I can do. Smoke and ash choke the sky, turning the sunlight into an eerie, blood-red haze.

New York is unrecognizable. Streets are shredded into jagged ruins, buildings gutted by flames. The air reeks of burning metal and despair. Below, I see them—Zack's army. Metallic monstrosities, their glowing eyes fixed forward, march in perfect unison. Zack leads them, his towering form a grotesque fusion of man and machine. His laughter echoes, low and menacing, cutting through the screams like a blade.

The ground quakes violently under their advance. Their energy cannons obliterate everything in their path—cars are tossed skyward, skyscrapers collapse like sandcastles, and people… people are running, screaming, dying. Some soldiers fire back, their bullets bouncing uselessly off the robots' alloyed skin. Others throw down their weapons and flee, only to be mowed down by the hovering drones above.

Then the impossible happens—New York begins to rise. The entire city groans and cracks as if being wrenched from the earth itself. My stomach churns as the Statue of Liberty tilts, and I cling tighter, feeling every muscle in my body tremble.

I can't look away. Zack stands at the epicenter of this nightmare, his mechanical arm raised like a conductor of destruction. My heart hammers in my chest, and for a brief moment, my eyes lock onto something—a clock.

It's faint, flickering on the shattered glass of a collapsing skyscraper. 9:00 am. The time sears itself into my mind, mocking me, irrelevant and yet impossible to ignore.

"Who would have guessed they'd strike as early as 9 a.m. on the dot…" The thought creeps in, unbidden, hollow and detached from the carnage around me.

And then everything vanishes.

My eyes snap open, and I lurch upright, gasping for air. Sweat pours down my face, soaking the sheets. My heart feels like it's about to burst out of my chest. I sit there, frozen in the dark, trying to make sense of what I just saw.

The room is quiet. Too quiet. I glance at my watch—2:00 a.m. Midnight. The soft hum of the clock feels unnaturally loud. My gaze shifts to the calendar on the wall, the date glaring back at me, though it holds no answers.

But the dream… I can't shake it. My mind fixates on the glowing *9:00 a.m.* Why does it feel so significant?

I lean forward, resting my head in my hands. That dream wasn't just a dream. It can't be. Zack is coming—I can feel it.

The weight of it forces me to my feet. My pulse is pounding, and every instinct screams for action. There's no time to waste. I stride out of my room and move quickly through the dimly lit halls to wake the others. One by one, I shake them awake—Leonard, Joseph, John, Jessica, Samuel, Belteshazzar, and Trivium.

"Morinjo, what the hell?" John groans, rubbing his eyes as he stumbles into the room. "Why did you wake me? It's the middle of the night."

"We don't have much time!" I snap, pacing back and forth. "We need to act now!"

"What's going on?" Jessica asks, her voice groggy but tinged with concern.

I stop and turn to face them, the weight of the nightmare still pressing down on my chest. "Zack and his army—they're coming. And if they get here, we won't stand a chance. New York will fall, and Earth will be conquered."

"How do you know that?" Leonard asks, crossing his arms skeptically.

I hesitate, the words catching in my throat. "I had a vision," I finally say. "No, a nightmare. It was so real... New York was in ruins—fires everywhere, people dying in the streets. Zack was there, leading his army. And the city... the city was *levitating* off the ground. I saw it, Leonard. I *felt* it."

The room falls silent. Their faces shift between disbelief and unease.

Joseph clears his throat. "So what exactly do you want us to do?"

I take a deep breath, steadying myself. "I believe you all remember Mr. Smith and Dan's strategic plans? Jessica, I need you to contact Mr. Smith. Tell him we need his plane. We're heading to New York *now*."

Jessica doesn't hesitate. She nods, grabbing her comm device. "On it, sir." She steps aside to make the call.

"Now?" Trivium blurts out, his voice sharp with disbelief. "Are you serious? In the middle of the night? We don't even have all the details!"

I turn to him, my patience fraying. "Are you deaf? I said Zack and his army will arrive *soon*. If we wait, it'll be too late. New York will be destroyed. Earth will be lost. Do you understand that?" My voice rises, sharp and commanding, but as the words leave my mouth, I realize I'm yelling.

Trivium stiffens, his expression hardening. The others glance at me, uneasy. I close my eyes for a moment, forcing myself to breathe.

"I'm sorry," I say, my voice softer now. "I don't want this to happen. I *can't* let it happen. None of us can."

Trivium's frown doesn't soften, but he doesn't argue. He stares at me for what feels like an eternity before turning and walking away.

Jessica reenters the room, her voice cutting through the tension. "The plane's being prepped. Mr. Smith says we'll have clearance to leave in thirty minutes."

"Good." I nod, regaining my composure. "Everyone, gear up. This might be our only chance to stop Zack before it's too late."

As the team disperses to prepare, I linger in the room for a moment. The image of New York in ruins still burns in my mind. Zack is coming. And this time, he won't stop until there's nothing left.

9:30 a.m.

New York

The Quinjet hums softly as Jessica brings it down with precision. Her hands move deftly over the controls, guiding us into a spacious clearing—a deserted parking lot near the edge of the city. The landing is smooth, almost too calm for what's happening outside.

I glance to my right. G.A.L.A.X.Y.'s fleet begins descending. The WindRunner cuts through the sky like a blade, its sleek body gleaming in the morning light. The massive Antonov An-225 Mriya follows, a steel giant settling onto the tarmac with surprising grace, alongside the unmistakable curves of the Airbus Beluga. These aircrafts dominate the scene, their size a stark contrast to the chaos unfolding beyond.

As the hatch of our jet hisses open, I step into the tense morning air, the sounds of distant sirens and shouting flooding my ears. Zetacode doesn't wait. In a blink, he vanishes, a blur of motion streaking toward the panicked masses.

"I'm heading for the residential blocks!" he shouts, his voice carried by the wind.

Golden Prince takes to the sky, his golden armor glinting under the rising sun. "I'll cover the business district," he calls down, his voice steady despite the urgency. With a powerful push, he streaks toward the heart of the city.

LEONARD

The world sharpens into unbearable clarity as I run, every second stretching into eternity. Chaos is everywhere—cries for help, crumbling buildings, sirens wailing in a discordant symphony. Every detail hits me like a punch: a woman shielding her baby from falling debris, a man dragging a wounded friend across the asphalt, the acrid stench of smoke filling the air.

I push harder, my legs churning faster than ever, the ground beneath me a chaotic blur of wreckage. "You can do this, Leonard. Stay focused. Stay fast," I tell myself.

Ahead, a car is overturned in the middle of the street, trapping a young couple inside. The woman pounds on the window, her cries muffled but desperate. In an instant, I'm there. I vibrate my hand through the window, unlocking the door and pulling them out just as flames engulf the vehicle.

"Get to the evacuation planes!" I yell, pointing them toward safety. They don't hesitate. Good. There's no time to waste.

From Albany to Amsterdam, the destruction is unrelenting. Each city feels like another battlefield, and I push through it all, carrying more civilians I've rescued along the way—a grandmother clutching her pet cat, a man covered in soot from the rubble, a child holding onto my arm with white-knuckled terror.

Inside the plane, I deposit them gently. "Stay here. You're safe now," I assure them before vanishing into the chaos once more.

Above me, Golden Prince streaks through the sky like a comet, his golden aura blazing against the darkened heavens. He's fast, graceful, and utterly unstoppable. With each pass, he carries civilians from rooftops, parking lots, and crowded balconies, delivering them to safety.

From Buffalo to Canandaigua, his golden streak lights up the destruction like a beacon of hope. The chaos stretches across every city, and yet he moves with precision and power.

"Keep moving!" he shouts, his voice amplified by the crackle of energy radiating from his body. With one hand, he fires a beam of light, disintegrating a collapsing billboard threatening a group of stranded shoppers. His free arm scoops up a pair of teenagers, carrying them to the same evacuation planes I've been loading.

"Leo, Sector 4 is clear! What's your status?" his voice buzzes through my comm.

"I've got stragglers on the west side of Auburn. Working on it!" I respond, already changing course.

The western edge of the city is chaos incarnate—buildings teetering on the brink of collapse, streets riddled with fallen power lines sparking ominously. I spot a family trapped in their car, the father frantically trying to unbuckle his children from their seats.

I'm there in an instant. "I'll take it from here!" I say, yanking the car door off its hinges. I grab the kids first, then the father, setting them down a safe distance away. "Go! Run for the planes!"

As they disappear into the crowd, a sudden tremor shakes the ground. My heart stops.

A towering building begins to tip in. Beacon, its structure groaning under the strain. A group of citizens is frozen in its shadow—a father clutching two young children.

"No!" I scream, pouring every ounce of speed I have into my legs. The world slows to a crawl, the screams around me muffled as my focus narrows. I reach them in the nick of time, sweeping them into my arms just as the building collapses in a deafening explosion.

We land safely on the other side of the street, dust and debris swirling around us. I set them down gently, my chest heaving.

"Thank you," the father stammers, his face pale with shock.

"No time for thanks. Get to the planes! Go now!" I yell, already scanning for the next group to save.

Golden Prince lands beside me, his energy crackling like a thunderstorm. "Nice save in Cortland," he says, his voice steady despite the chaos.

"Still plenty of people out there," I reply, catching my breath.

"Then let's not stop now."

He rockets back into the sky, a streak of gold cutting through the ash-filled air. I'm back on the move too, racing through the streets of Binghamton, the destruction around me a blur. Together, we're the city's last hope—a force of speed and power, racing against time to save as many lives as possible.

This is what we do. This is who we are. We're heroes.

MORINJO

I take a deep breath, steadying myself. "It's time."

Path Finder's voice rumbles within me, a low, commanding growl. "Let me out."

Closing my eyes, I surrender, allowing the nanotechnology to surge over my body. The black and gold design ripples to life, coiling around me like liquid armor. It's not just a transformation—it's a fusion. Power floods my veins as Path Finder takes shape, his presence looming within. For a brief moment, I'm both an observer and a participant, watching through his eyes as the world sharpens into startling clarity.

The chaos of Dunkirk hits us immediately, a cacophony of fear and destruction. Through Path Finder's heightened senses, I feel every vibration in the ground, hear every panicked breath, and see every flicker of movement. "They're scared," he growls. "We need to act fast."

"I know." My voice is firm, steady. Together, we reach out, my telepathic energy expanding like ripples in a pond. Leave your homes. Step out of your cars. Head to the evacuation zones.

The responses come hesitantly at first—uncertain movements, the shuffle of feet—but then they grow. Doors creak open. Drivers abandon their vehicles. Crowds spill into the streets, following an unseen beacon of calm and guidance.

Jessica's voice crackles through the comm. "Morinjo, how's it looking in Elmira?"

Path Finder growls. "She's asking you."

"I've got this," I reply, focusing on the unfolding scene. "They're moving. Slowly, but they're moving."

Above us, Golden Prince streaks through the sky, his golden aura cutting through the smoke like a blazing comet. He swoops down, clutching two civilians in each arm. "More on the way," he says, his voice steady as he deposits them near the planes.

Path Finder snorts. "Show-off."

"Focus," I mutter, tuning back into the chaos. Destruction stretches far and wide—buildings crumbling in Geneva, streets clogged with debris in Glens Falls, terrified screams rising from Gloversville. Path Finder and I push harder, sending waves of telepathic reassurance. Stay calm. Help is coming.

Through the haze, families emerge from the rubble in Hornell, drawn by the guiding light of our thoughts. Follow the light. You'll be safe.

Jessica's voice cuts through again. "Morinjo, Hudson is almost clear. What's the status in Ithaca?"

Path Finder snarls. "She's impatient."

"She's thorough," I correct him, my attention locking on a collapsing building in Ithaca. Debris scatters, and panic spikes like a wave. I extend my senses, steadying the minds of those caught in the chaos. "Stay together. Move as one." Slowly, they respond, regrouping and making their way toward the evacuation zones.

Golden Prince lands beside us in Jamestown, his energy crackling like a live wire. "Nice work," he says, nodding toward the growing crowd heading for safety.

Path Finder's voice rumbles with grudging approval. "He's not useless."

"There's still more to do," I say, ignoring the jab as I scan the map for new signals.

Golden Prince smirks. "Then let's not stop now." With that, he rockets back into the sky, a streak of golden light against the darkened horizon.

Path Finder's voice growls with determination. "We'll guide them all."

"Together," I agree, pushing forward as one. My telepathic reach spreads across the state, linking minds, steadying nerves, and guiding every lost soul toward safety. For the first time, amid the chaos, hope feels tangible. It's not just a whisper. It's real.

BELTESHAZZAR

The chaos in Johnstown feels like it's tightening around me. After guiding groups of terrified citizens toward evacuation planes, an uneasy chill creeps up my spine—a foreboding sense that disaster is seconds away. My eyes dart skyward. Heavy missiles streak down, their deadly arcs slicing through the clouds like fiery serpents. The devastation they promise spreads outward, each targeting a different corner of the city.

No hesitation. I surge upward at full speed, locking on to the closest missile. My hands grip the sleek metal as I absorb its volatile energy, neutralizing its threat. I drop its lifeless shell, a discarded toy, and accelerate toward the next one. My speed blurs reality, light bending as I catch the second missile, repeating the process with precision.

"Zetacode, Johnstown is under attack," I say into my comms, my voice steady but urgent. "Six missiles. I've taken down two. You need to get the rest. Now!"

"On it!" Zetacode's reply is sharp, and even through the static, I hear the determination in his tone.

---

LEONARD

The urgency propels me forward, each step sending tremors through the earth as I sprint toward Johnstown. My eyes scan the horizon, searching for any sign of incoming missiles. Then I spot it—a distant streak slicing through the sky, aimed straight at a church.

No time to think. I push harder, faster, the ground blurring beneath me. The missile closes in on its target as I leap high, meeting it mid-air. My grip tightens around its sleek surface, and with a grunt, I redirect its deadly trajectory skyward. The missile collides with a rogue robot mid-flight, detonating in a fiery explosion that rains debris.

I hit the ground hard, my chest heaving as I try to steady my breath. A voice pulls me back.

"Are you alright, Zetacode?"

I turn, seeing an elderly woman standing with others emerging cautiously from the church. Her eyes hold concern.

"I… I'm fine," I manage between gulps of air. Straightening, I nod toward them. "Get to the evacuation planes. Go, now!"

"Where are they?" a man asks, panic lacing his voice.

I point to the east. "That way. Run! There's no time!"

As they scatter toward safety, I refocus. My comms crackle.

"One missile down. One left," I inform Belteshazzar.

"Excellent. I've handled three. I'm moving on to Kingston now."

"Understood."

I pick up speed, the city around me a blur of smoke and chaos. The final missile comes into view, its path aimed squarely at a sprawling company building. I sprint through the doors, evacuating everyone in sight.

"Move! Get out!" I shout, herding the last group outside.

The missile impacts seconds later, a deafening explosion shaking the earth. Dust and smoke envelop me as I crouch low, shielding my face. When the air clears, I lift my gaze.

Above, the sky darkens, a swarm of robots descending like locusts over New York.

"They've revealed themselves," I say grimly into the comms. "Zack's robots."

"Understood," Belteshazzar replies. "It's time for action."

I turn to the stunned citizens. "Head for the evacuation planes. Now!" I point the way, urgency dripping from every word.

And then, I'm running again.

The city of Lackawanna unfolds ahead of me, smoke curling into the air as robots descend from the sky like metal predators. I skid to a halt as their arms transform into sleek, deadly guns. Before they can fire, I lunge forward, fists connecting with cold steel. The force sends one robot hurtling into another, their weapons raised.

I twist their gun barrels toward each other. The first volley of shots rings out—a metallic cacophony as the robots obliterate one another.

"Not bad," I mutter, a smirk tugging at my lips. There's no time to linger.

I blur forward to the next group of robots. Screams pierce the air as panicked citizens scramble for safety. A woman trips, clutching her child. My focus sharpens.

In seconds, I'm there, disarming the robots before they can aim. A sharp twist, a calculated shove—another round of self-inflicted destruction. Sparks fly, and the smell of burnt circuits fills the air.

"Cool! You're fast!"

The voice pulls me back. I turn to see a kid, wide-eyed, clutching a toy car. Despite the chaos, he's grinning.

I crouch slightly, my expression softening. "Yeah, I'm fast. Fastest man alive."

"Wow! That's so cool! Can you carry me?" His voice is filled with excitement, completely unaware of the danger around us.

I chuckle lightly, shaking my head. "I'd love to, but not right now."

A woman approaches, her face pale but grateful. "Are you his mother?"

"Yes," she says, her voice trembling as she pulls her son close. "Thank you. Thank you for saving us."

I wave it off gently. "Don't thank me yet. Head to the evacuation planes. They're your safest bet. Run as fast as you can."

As they begin to move, a man pauses, his voice thick with fear. "Is… is the world ending?"

I meet his gaze, firm but reassuring. "No. It's not the end. Just a war—us against these evil robots. Now go! Hurry!"

He nods, and with that, the citizens scatter toward safety.

I tap my comms. "Lackawanna is clear. Where are you now?"

To be continued....