**REY**
I felt a thumping in my head as my blurred vision began to stabilize. By the time I stood up, I was coughing violently due to my sore throat, struggling to pull in air through my bloody nose.
I started looking around, trying to assess the dire situation I was in.
"Justin, where are you?!" I shouted as I staggered through the flames, stumbling over my own two feet.
I hit the floor hard enough to lose what little air I had left in my lungs. "Shit..." Tears rolled down my cheeks, and I turned over onto my back, listening to the ringing in my ears as I accepted my impending death.
"R... Rey!"
I woke up in the tub, as usual, feeling terrible. I climbed out and opened the door. "What? Couldn't wait for me to wake up just to blame me today too?" I said in a spiteful tone, recalling the night before when Justin, in a drunken stupor, threw a half-empty whiskey bottle at me. He had been switching between emotions, repeatedly yelling, "I wouldn't be in this predicament if it wasn't for you, Rey! I wouldn't!"
Of course, I didn't fight back because I knew he wasn't entirely wrong. If it hadn't been for me, he wouldn't have been disabled, and who knows? He might have moved up a few ranks by now. Being part of the H.F.F. (Human Firefighting Force) was his dream.
In this new age, humanity had started accepting life in a technological world where science could elevate mankind to a new level of superiority, creating robots to handle most tasks that used to be performed by humans.
I guess, in some way, I understood that it was meant to make life easier. But, of course, there's no such thing as easy.
"Detective Reynolds." Looking beyond Justin, I saw a familiar face I didn't want to see right now.
"I'm retired Sergeant O'Neill. So can you do me a favor and bother someone else? I already have one asshole pushing his foot up my backside, and I honestly don't need anything else right now." I turned around, not wanting to stay there any longer.
"You remember that report you made back on July 15, 2054?" Stopping in my tracks, I turned back to face the man standing behind Justin.
Sergeant O'Neill stood there with that annoying smirk on his face, knowing he had my attention. "Sly bastard."
"What report?" Justin asked, puzzled, "Rey? What's he talking about?" I didn't respond, but I could see the anger on Justin's face at being ignored. In the end, he said nothing more, and neither did I.
Walking over to the door, I grabbed my jacket off the hanger and slipped it on. "I'll be back," I said, knowing full well he wouldn't answer me. As Sergeant O'Neill walked through the door, I immediately followed him, sharing one last glance back to see him mumbling under his breath as he went up the stairs.
"The relationship isn't as good as before, from what I can see. So why are you still here?" Sergeant O'Neill asked, not holding back as he stood next to me, looking down from his height.
"What are you, my therapist?" I heard his familiar laugh as he ruffled my curly hair.
It annoyed me whenever this old man got nosy, yet it was somewhat comforting. I would never admit that to him, though. "Tell me about the case." I casually pushed his hand away and took a few steps forward.
I stopped and placed my hands in my pockets, leaning against the railing next to the view of the ocean shore.
"There have been quite a few reports of robots going rogue and attacking each other since the beginning of this year." I raised an eyebrow, looking at Sergeant O'Neill in confusion. I didn't understand why he was telling me this; it had nothing to do with me being a former member of the H.H.D. (Human Homicide Detective).
"I can't see how this concerns me. Isn't this a problem for the A.I.P.P. (Artificial Intelligence Protection Program) to handle?" I remarked. Reaching under his jacket when I mentioned the A.I.P.P., Sergeant O'Neill pulled out a small pump disc. It was about the size of a toddler's hand and resembled a floppy disk or thumb drive. The difference was that you didn't need a computer or laptop to access the files; it was a state-of-the-art holographic device viewable only by the holder.
"That's usually the case, until a few days ago." Just then, Sergeant O'Neill passed me the device.
"What happened?"
"Two human victims were found dead, and according to eyewitnesses, it was caused by a robot with glowing red eyes." I placed my finger on the scanner, and to my surprise, it opened even though I hadn't worked with the H.H.D. in a year.
"The number of reports filed by the victims started popping up from a couple of weeks ago in different areas of Spring Valley."
While Sergeant O'Neill explained the case, I began scanning through the holograms...
I started with the files about the victims' names, ages, and the circumstances of their deaths.
"There are over ten reports, and eight of them are from people who are still alive, aside from the two victims who, according to you, died a couple of days ago. But what surprised me the most, Sergeant O'Neill is that some of these victims happen to be humanoid robots."
By the time I finished scanning most of the files, I became curious about who had compiled such a detailed report.
"Right, Detective. Because of that, the A.I.P.P. and H.H.D. departments are currently forming a temporary alliance to figure out what's happening in Spring," he said, unable to suppress a laugh at the thought of an agency that dislikes A.I.P.P. humanoid robots having to work with them to solve a case.
"I feel sorry for the poor bastards who'll have to suck it up and work with those bots." As I finished looking through the files, I noticed the name of the person who had put this detailed presentation together.
"Agent Smith?" I heard a sound from Sergeant O'Neill, catching my attention.
"That's the name of the agent coming from the other side."
"You mean to tell me that a computer put this together? Why am I not surprised? Here I thought you finally found a good agent." As soon as I realized a humanoid robot created the file, I understood that they were likely the ones who discovered the pattern of robot victims appearing every three days for about a month. They probably initiated a treaty with the H.H.D. since human victims were now involved.
"As you already know, this is a special kind of case that only experienced agents are allowed to work on—" I quickly passed the file to him, "It's been a while since I've gone to that bar. I probably should go have a drink since I'm retired."
"Detective Reynolds!" Feeling irritated, I turned around to face the sergeant. "No disrespect, Sergeant, but the last time I checked, I'm not an agent, and I turned in my resignation a year ago. So please explain to me what part of 'retired' you don't seem to understand?"
"You were never a retired Detective Reynolds; you were simply on a leave of absence."
"Come again?"
©11/22/24.[T.T.H]