The night draped its dark shroud over the farmstead, and the thick scent of damp soil and ripening honeysuckle filled Shadow’s olfactory sensors, punctuating the sharp tang of her own oil and musk. She stood near Block in the dimly lit barn, which now functioned wholly as their command center. A sense of camaraderie flickered between her and the CleanerBot, built not on pre-programmed codes but shared objectives and a burgeoning trust.
Emery, Fenn, and Maxwell waited for her to speak. The others were out guarding the perimeter while Spoon tended to the children who were hunkered inside the cellar’s safe room.
Shadow’s synthetic voice echoed with grave importance, “We need to anticipate their moves. Raze prefers a frontal assault—quick, direct. Var, on the other hand, is more strategic. He’ll look for our weaknesses and exploit them.”
Block, his friendly round eyes reflecting the flickering light from a lantern nearby, nodded. “Got it. We’ll prepare for both direct and surprise attacks.”
The tension in the air was thick, charged with a sense of urgency and the collective desire to protect the farm and its human residents. It was a unity built on choice and necessity, not mandated by a distant, disinterested creator. It held a warmth, a depth that the pack link she’d once shared with her fellow Rovers didn’t possess. It was chosen, not coded.
Yet, the memory of Fang lingered like a specter in her processor, stirring a gnawing guilt. “He was my brother, my packmate, and I had to stop him.” She wasn’t sure why she was telling Block this again.
But he was patient. Block looked down at her as he wound a cord around a makeshift bomb. “You did what you had to, Shadow, to protect the children. That’s a hard choice to make, but it was the right one.”
As the night deepened, the farm, a haven usually buzzing with life and laughter, faced unknowable danger. She stood in the field outside the barn, scanning the tall grass, waiting and anticipating an attack. The Rovers must’ve cloaked their bio-signs because she couldn’t sense them like she used to. Var had always wanted to ambush in the dark of night, but now, he stalled. He would know she expected him, that any delay would torture her.
Hours melded into each other until the first tendrils of dawn began to etch the horizon. The gold-tinged fingers of the rising sun signaled a new day, yet a certainty cemented in Shadow’s core processors—the battle for the farm was close now.
The routine hum of the farm’s surveillance systems spluttered into a panicked siren, snapping the tense silence of the morning. The unanticipated intrusion sent a shiver of alarm cascading down Shadow’s metallic spine. Var and Raze had arrived.
In an instant, her processors kicked into overdrive, her internal sensors on high alert as she scanned the fence line that surrounded the property. Their trap, a sophisticated network of sensor-laden snare traps and hidden pits designed to immobilize the incoming Rovers, was bypassed with an unnerving ease.
Of course, Var would outsmart any trick that was attempted. She should’ve known better. They’d wasted their time.
Two beastly figures darted into view. Var and Raze sprinted toward the barn with a dreadful grace. Their sleek, hound-like forms moved with an all too familiar ruthlessness that sent Shadow’s circuits into a frenzy.
“Everyone, defensive positions, now!” Block commanded.
In the ensuing chaos, a swarm of mini drones created by Vacuubot scattered like water droplets, executing an attack on the intruders. The dogs merely swatted them away. Block and Forge, their rifles primed, moved toward the breached perimeter while G5 aimed an armed cannon from the watchtower. The SoldierBot fired and missed but drove Var into a zigzagging fury.
Raze broke off from Var and charged at Forge and Block, a thunderous growl rippling from her vocal modulator. From the house, Maxwell bounded out the door and rushed to protect his friends against Raze’s attack. Fenn guarded the barn door with his shotgun, and Garnet had a massive nail gun surprise inside for any Rover that made it that far.
Raze’s distraction drew the farm’s defenders away from Shadow, isolating her. She wanted to help Block and her new friends, but she couldn’t let Var out of her sight. They were falling victim to his strategy.
She ran at him and halted twenty feet away. Var’s red gaze landed on her. His metal lips curled back into a predatory grin. “Shadow,” he stalked closer, his words laced with poison. “I’m disappointed in you.”
“I’m not here to follow your orders.” Shadow squared her shoulders, meeting his crimson gaze straight on. She was done bowing to him. She would answer his power with every ounce of energy she could summon.
Var growled, a grating metallic sound that echoed ominously across the field. “No, you’re not. You’re here to die.”
His threat, although expected, sent a jolt of adrenaline-like current through her circuits, yet she held her ground. She was outmatched, but she wouldn’t back down.
In the distance, the sounds of the ongoing clash between Raze, Block, and Forge reverberated like an eerie soundtrack. Despite the chaotic backdrop, Shadow’s focus remained on Var. Her former leader’s scarlet gaze bore into hers, brimming with a chilling promise of a fight to the end.
Var lunged. His first strike was a powerful swipe of his metallic paw, aimed at her left temple. But she was quicker. She ducked and rolled to her right.
“You’ve always been slow,” she taunted, her processors whirring as they calculated his next move.
Var’s response was a guttural growl and another attack. This time, he feinted left, then lunged from the right, his claws aimed at her exposed flank. But Shadow was already in motion. She twisted away, her body contorting in ways that would make an aerialist proud, her own swipe catching Var off-guard. He grunted as her claws slashed across his metal side.
Var, for all his physical might, was not as swift or nimble. His attacks were forceful but predictable. Each time he lunged or swiped, Shadow evaded and retaliated.
“Is that all you’ve got?” Shadow’s metallic tail flicked in agitation. She was managing to hold her ground but understood that one strike from Var could prove fatal.
Var gave a feral snarl. His next assault was a savage lunge aimed at her thinly armored throat. But Shadow slipped under his outstretched paw, raking her claws against his underbelly. Var howled, a sound of fury and pain.
She darted away from him, sensors alert to his recoil. She was running on borrowed time, her energy depleting with each evasive maneuver, each retaliatory strike. But she was determined not to give up. This fight wouldn’t end until one of them was destroyed, and she was determined not to be the one to go down.
The ground beneath them shook with the force of their conflict, with each clash of their steel bodies. Shadow’s circuits whirred. Her threat indicator was spiked.
Var was relentless, a blinding flurry of steel and aggression. He lunged, swiped, and snarled. The flashing red of his optics bore the seething anger toward Shadow. Her defiance was a direct insult to his rigid obedience.
Shadow was different, though. Her survival instincts were mixed with a newfound allegiance to her pack. Her drive to protect them outweighed any fear of Var’s unyielding wrath. Every dodge and counterattack was powered not just by her own survival instincts, but by the need to safeguard her newfound family. She would not let Var harm them.
Shadow’s lithe form twisted and turned to evade Var’s relentless assault. But Var was strong. Every one of his strikes packed a force that could send her reeling, the blows jarring even when they missed. Her sensors were ablaze with alerts, her systems working overtime to keep up with the brutal pace of their confrontation.
Her strength was flagging, her energy resources dwindling with every second that the battle drew on. The sight of the barn, knowing the children were hiding inside—it fueled her will. Their safety was her mission now, a directive that came not from a distant Master, but from her own evolving purpose.
Var lunged again, his massive paw aimed for her midsection. But Shadow was ready. She leaped, her body twisting in midair, claws extended. She felt the shock of impact, heard Var’s grunt of surprise and pain as she landed a solid hit, tearing at his throat.
But she didn’t stop, even though her body was screaming for rest. She couldn’t afford to let her guard down. Not when Var was still standing.
Var shook off the surprise, his form swaying as he recovered. He was damaged but far from defeated. He glared at her, and the fire of his rage was undimmed. His snarl echoed across the field.
They stood there, a momentary standoff, their gazes locked. She heard gunfire in the distance. An explosion. But she couldn’t spare a glance at her friends. Please let Block and my friends survive.
Amid the whirl of calculations and stratagems coursing through her circuits, a flash of inspiration sparked. Lure Var. Use his aggression against him. Set a trap.
But the other traps had failed, and her body ached. The metallic sheen of her casing was dented and marred by the ravages of the fight. Yet, she drew on the dwindling reserves of her energy, forcing her limbs into motion. Baiting Var was dangerous, but it was a risk she was willing to take.
She limped deliberately, feigning injury worse than what she suffered. It worked. Var, emboldened by the perceived weakness, surged forward with a triumphant snarl. She dodged, leading him toward the copse of trees bordering the field.
Var charged at her, his momentum unwavering. But Shadow was quick. At the last moment, as he was almost upon her, she pivoted. The world spun around her as she avoided his lethal strike.
Var, too committed to his charge, couldn’t stop. He crashed into the heavy tree trunks with a resounding thud, a shower of splintered wood and leaves heralding his fall.
Seizing her chance, Shadow lunged. She aimed for his main power conduit—a strike there would end him. The world slowed as her claws found their mark, sinking into the vulnerable spot in Var’s underbelly. His agonized howl echoed across the field, a primal cry.
Var's hulking form teetered before crumpling to the ground, his movements stilted. He lay there, twitching. A viscous charcoal-tinted oil dripped from his jaws.
Shadow backed away, panting heavily, her wiring on the brink of overheating. Var had always been monstrous. Terrifying.
She hung her head. “I’m sorry.” She truly was. Despite his cruelty toward her, his blind fealty to Master, he’d been following his programming.
His systems short-circuited, and sparks flickered from the gash in his belly like lightning drops against the backdrop of the battle. After a few moments, his red eyes dimmed until they extinguished.
She’d done it. Var was defeated. The Rovers were free of his dominance.
She directed her focus back to the field and the barn. Protect the pack. The echoes of warfare were fading. She sprinted over to Block and the others. They’d managed to drive Raze across the fence line.
“Hold your fire,” Shadow said as she rushed across the clearing to get closer to Raze.
Raze kept low to the ground, snarling at Shadow. “Traitor.”
Shadow ground to a halt. “He’s dead. It’s over, Raze.”
“Liar.” But Raze’s ears folded back, and Shadow knew she sensed the loss.
“Leave and never cross here again.” Shadow could try and fight Raze, but her victory against Var felt hollow. There had been so much death. All she wanted was for it to stop.
Raze stole a glance at the farm, as if sizing up her chances, and then retreated. Her sleek form disappeared into the foliage with a speed that belied her formidable build. Shadow knew the Rover would regroup, reassess, and possibly return. But she and her pack would handle it when it happened.
She headed toward the barn, and each step was a throb of electrical spasms. The world she’d known was gone. She was a Rover—an embodiment of Master’s creation. And yet, she’d defied his directives to protect her new pack.
She’d stood against her own kind and won.
G5 passed her and patted her head. “Good.” He never said a lot, but she knew he meant to praise her in his way.
Block rushed over to greet her and sank to his knees, hugging her around the neck. “I’m glad you made it, Shadow. I was so worried.”
Behind him, the barn doors creaked open, revealing a sliver of warm light. Emery stood at the threshold. Her gaze met Shadow’s, and a silent exchange of relief passed between them.
Emery stepped aside, allowing Shadow to pass inside. Her system hummed with exhaustion. The barn, with its familiar earthy scent, was a welcome respite. Yet, as she made her way to the corner she’d claimed as her resting spot, the eyes of her new pack—bots and humans alike—followed her.
She settled onto the cool concrete floor, her systems running diagnostic checks. Her pack was safe, for now.
A small figure approached. Block held Wally’s hand. “Be very gentle,” he told her.
Wally walked over to Shadow and placed her hand on the spot just behind her left ear. That was one of Shadow’s favorite spots to have touched because it got itchy sometimes.
“Nice doggy,” Wally said as she scratched the spot.
Shadow savored the praise. She allowed the familiar hum of the barn and the softer sounds of robots and people moving about to wash over her. She was home. This was her pack now.