In front of everyone, Hudson leaped gracefully, transparent fluids flowing from his advanced mechanical body.
He jumped over Dave's car and landed heavily on the fragile hood, which bent slightly under his metallic feet, leaving behind a few light dents.
There, Hudson stood firmly on the car, staring directly through the crystal-clear windshield as everyone exchanged glances with him. Jeremiah was on the verge of collapsing under the overwhelming tension.
Hudson's lens-like eyes scanned meticulously, taking in Dave, Amy, Jeremiah, Alex, and the rest of those present. No one could be blamed for their feelings in that moment—blood froze in their veins, and silence dominated the crowded street. Yet, Dave kept his foot planted firmly on the gas pedal, frozen in place without the slightest movement.
Hudson extended his right hand and tugged at a part of his shirt near his right chest, ready to deliver a powerful punch to Dave and put an end to this ongoing fiasco.
Jeremiah shouted as he scrambled toward the back seats, clutching Slim tightly, who reciprocated the embrace.
As for Dave, he didn't take his hand off the steering wheel, as if the thought of abandoning this situation never crossed his mind. He seemed determined not to allow it, no matter what.
Hudson tightened his grip, then directed it toward David's center with a devastating punch.
The wind struck Hudson's oily face, but it wasn't enough to make him miss his target. He delivered a strong punch using his iron knuckles, splitting the wind to the right and left, sending the windshield shattering into hundreds of tiny shards.
David's head twisted sharply as he moved it at the last second to dodge Hudson's furious punch, which missed his head and struck the fixed headrest instead. Hudson's hand revealed patches of human-like skin intertwined with multiple electronic components supporting him, leaving David in a state of shock. He had miraculously survived, unable to smile or react. His entire focus remained solely on the road ahead.
David drove the car with almost flawless skill, maneuvering it with sudden side swerves on the road, causing the tires to emit a sharp screech that could nearly tear the ears apart. All these maneuvers were attempts to shake off Hudson, but to no avail. The only ones suffering were those sitting at the edges of their seats, like Alex and Jeremiah, while Hudson, standing on the car's hood, clung to it with every ounce of strength he had.
The speed increased, adrenaline coursing through their veins, as David took the car onto the highway connecting Manhattan to Brooklyn, exceeding the speed limit and hitting 156 kilometers per hour. So far, there was no sign of the police.
Salim, visibly tense, muttered softly after a long silence, trying to urge David to slow down. But Amy, with a false sense of confidence, assured everyone that David had a plan to get rid of Hudson and that they should not distract him. She wasn't entirely sure of what she was saying, but David's sly smile left everyone puzzled. No one could tell if that smile reflected tension, fear, or perhaps something else entirely inexplicable.
Hudson, buffeted by the wind from the opposite direction, glared at David with blazing eyes. To him, David had become his new enemy since the sunset of the old era. Hudson realized that David might try to abruptly stop the car again to throw him off, but it seemed he was prepared for what was coming.
Hudson immediately readied himself to counter whatever David was planning.
He thrust his left hand into the windshield from a different point than the one he had shattered earlier, specifically in front of Jeremiah. Jeremiah shielded himself from the dense and heavy shards of glass, while Hudson firmly gripped the broken glass. Slowly, he raised his right hand, his clenched fist poised to deliver a powerful blow.
David, with intense focus, drove the car as if his entire life depended on this very moment. He whispered to himself calmly, reminding himself not to make any mistakes, knowing that a single wrong move could destroy the car completely. The roads were flanked by crash barriers on both sides, right and left, amplifying the risk of any error.
In this critical moment, Hudson interrupted David's concentration with a punch aimed directly at him. His fist was precisely prepared, targeting David while he was preoccupied with the road ahead.
But Amy acted swiftly. She drew her sharp dagger, its blade a modern, dark crimson, and hurled it at Hudson with all the speed she could muster.
The dagger pierced Hudson's neck, slicing through his throat and reaching the circuits and wires embedded in his neck, where it lodged firmly. His body bent slightly backward, on the verge of falling, yet he clung to the windshield with relentless strength. In a distorted, broken voice, a result of his damaged vocal systems, Hudson spoke with a tone filled with dread and defiance:
"This is the end... we will all die here... and now."
David, locked in a direct confrontation with Hudson, fought back with all his might, gripping the steering wheel tightly.
In the moment David's eyes caught sight of the end of the road, his pulse raced, and his pupils dilated.
Adrenaline surged through his veins as he realized a sharp, curved descent was approaching at a perilous speed. The downward slope loomed ominously, like a trap lying in wait for any car daring to challenge it at such a reckless velocity.
Time froze for a moment, and David shouted above the ferocious roar of the engine, "This is our chance!"
The car approached the edge, with David's foot barely brushing the brake pedal with the tips of his toes. As the car reached the heart of the curve, where survival seemed nearly impossible, he slammed the brakes with all his might. The screeching sound of the tires pierced the stillness of the night with sharp intensity.
David executed a carefully calculated side-slip maneuver, keeping the car aligned with the iron barrier without touching it. The car teetered on the edge of the circular cliff, leaving behind a thick cloud of smoke. The passengers clung on with all their strength, while fear danced wildly in their eyes.
Hudson, clutching the hood and shattered windshield, felt the centrifugal force intensifying alarmingly, as though a black hole was pulling him toward the edges. He struggled to grip the windshield, but his hand betrayed him. The glass shattered beneath his fingers, and his grasp slipped, sending him flying through the air like a rag doll tossed by the wind.
He collided with the road barrier with a deafening crash, breaking it into scattered fragments. His mechanical and human limbs tore apart, almost fully exposing what made up Hudson—the super-robot from the Perry facility.
Hudson thought his suffering had ended, but the car swerved slightly off its course. The tires skidded on the cold, wet asphalt, and the car's rear slammed into the barrier and Hudson's body simultaneously. His body was crushed between steel and concrete in a scene that lasted no more than two seconds. Pieces of the car and Hudson fell together in those fleeting moments.
He flew over the barrier, leaving behind shattered remains. Hudson plummeted from the bridge's height to the street below, where life froze for a moment, and the witnesses' breaths were caught in their throats.
Later and a little later
Minutes passed, feeling like hours, as they escaped the clutches of certain death, heading back to Brooklyn through a nearby road.
David cautiously slowed the car as they approached "Mimi Manz," the restaurant owned by Mrs. Manz. His heartbeat began to settle with each passing moment, his body drained from the surge of adrenaline.
He exhaled deeply and asked Saleem in a voice so quiet it was almost a whisper:
"Has he stopped chasing us?"
His eyes flicked repeatedly to the rearview mirror, a habit he hadn't shaken off.
Alex, sitting in the backseat and scanning the road, responded with shaky confidence for what felt like the thousandth time:
"Yes… He disappeared at the curve. I think we're safe now. Stop asking!"
But before anyone could relax, Saleem interrupted with an even stranger thought, his trembling voice breaking the silence:
"Maybe… maybe he's back on top of the car again and could shove his hand inside any second!"
David's grip on the steering wheel tightened. He felt he was at his breaking point. A chill crept through his body and Jeremiah's at the horrifying suggestion.
Amy, however, spoke with a more reassuring tone as she gazed out the window at the right side of the road, watching scattered pedestrians preparing to return home. She said confidently:
"Don't worry, we got rid of him. He won't be able to catch us even if he wanted to."
Her mature voice was a harmonious blend of softness and calmness, especially for a teenage girl like her.
Jeremiah sighed in relief, a weary smile spreading across his face. He said, his voice filled with relief:
"Oh, I knew that idiot wouldn't be able to catch us… Right, Saleem? Van David, man of the hour, savior of the day, isn't that right?"
Saleem replied with a faint smile that began to appear on his tired cheeks:
"Yeah… yeah, you're right."
The road stretched ahead, and salvation seemed closer as the echoes of the intense chase faded into the distance, with the wind howling against the closed windows. In those quiet moments, each of them began to process the stark truth: they had survived, if only for now.
And so, after a night filled with chases and perilous turns, crashing over bumps high and low, David and his companions finally arrived at 52nd Street. He parked his old car, which bore the marks of severe damage, with clear signs of multiple collisions—from the cracked windshield to the rusty, battered hood.
David turned to his companions and muttered in a firm tone:
"Now, everyone get out of the car. We've had enough trouble for one night—supernatural crises and all. This is more than any sane person can handle."
Saleem and Jeremiah got out first, followed by Amy, and finally Alex, who gently shut the door behind him.
Saleem looked at David with admiration and said:
"You're truly a skilled driver, you know that? You managed to escape that crazy robot in this old car like you were in a race, speeding over 170, in suffocating heat of 36 degrees!"
David chuckled at Saleem's words and replied lightly:
"And the funny part is, I don't even have a driver's license. If the police were around, we'd be doomed. But hey, I think I did pretty well, right?"
Jeremiah smiled and asked curiously, tilting his head onto his shoulder:
"Pretty well for whom, exactly?"
David laughed again and replied:
"Oh, no one in particular, hahaha!"
Jeremiah chimed in:
"Anyway, I can't wait to see Rodri's face when we tell him what happened tomorrow."
Saleem asked skeptically:
"Do you think he'll actually believe us?"
Jeremiah gave him a tired look, as if he already knew the answer, and replied in a defeated tone:
"You're right; Rodri is incredibly stubborn. Convincing him of something like this will be nearly impossible."
Meanwhile, Amy had wandered away from the group, taking no fewer than twenty and a half steps without saying a word. That girl really had a knack for hiding her skills so well that no one—not even a single person—would notice. Except…
"Wait! Where are you rushing off to?" Alex called out from afar, while behind him, the two idiots, Jeremiah and Saleem, were arguing as usual. David, meanwhile, was busy with the car, which was practically on its last legs. Alex barely stopped Amy when she reached the end of the street at the edge.
Amy's gaze toward him was always cold, filled with a hint of indirect disdain. Finally, she replied with a smirk that carried a touch of sarcasm:
"To my house, of course. Or are you offering to escort me?"
Alex scratched the back of his head and laughed awkwardly, trying to mask his embarrassment. He wasn't used to talking to the opposite sex much.
"I didn't mean that. What I meant was... what were you doing there? I mean, when we found you inside the company's facility?"
Amy had known Alex since her first days at school through her friend LilM. She sighed before answering simply, attempting to conceal some details:
"The same reason you went there. I'd already written about it in my school group, the Daily Papers Club. I wanted to write an article about the rumors spreading in schools lately, including ours, about men in suits taking over properties across New York." She ended her explanation briefly.
But Alex wasn't entirely convinced. In fact, his curiosity seemed to grow. He asked her sharply:
"Girl, there are a million questions swirling in my head. Starting with the explosion you caused, to that mask you were wearing, and the dagger... Who could forget that sharp dagger? It nearly landed in front of me when you tried to cut off Hudson's arm!"
He looked at her nervously, while she maintained her outward calm, refusing to respond directly, as if she had anticipated such a confrontation.
She could only move forward without looking back. She knew very well that Alex and the others had learned a lot about the "Berry" facility, and their arrival there was no accident. Therefore, she didn't need to lie or conceal what they already knew.
Amy stopped at the crossroads, then turned slightly before speaking in a calm yet sharp tone:
"You can consider it self-defense tools or something like that. But I'm not stupid enough to break into a building without protecting myself, unlike you. However, there are things I can't disclose, even if I wanted to."
Alex looked at her nervously, then asked in a hoarse voice filled with astonishment:
"So, you brought a bomb for a school article!? I saw you take out that small ball and caused that explosion. I smell smoke here, but I don't actually see the fire, Amy."
Amy sighed coldly, realizing that things like explosions couldn't be easily hidden, but she wasn't ready to cooperate or give direct answers right now. She replied calmly, yet mysteriously:
"I think if we start talking about this until tomorrow, we'll never finish. What I want from the company, and what they want from New York, those answers we don't even know. You're a smart person, but as you know, sometimes stupidity can be useful. All I can do right now is simply leave. But, do you have any last words before I disappear?"
She stood waiting for his response, but she was about to leave, as if she no longer cared about what he might say.
"I really feel suffocated when I need answers and can't find them easily." Alex thought to himself. He felt like if he tried to dive into a long, intense conversation with her, it would just be exhausting for both of them.
Alex responded hesitantly, realizing she wouldn't reveal much or clarify anything. He decided to wrap up the conversation, saying:
"Can you, like, not tell anyone about what happened tonight? I think we should keep it between us for now until we can talk about some things at the right time. Also, we don't need other people meddling in what we're doing. That would just be super annoying later. Chris is gonna flip out if word gets out about this, especially since he and Joey worked so hard to keep it under wraps."
Amy gave a faint smile, finally feeling like she had some control over the flow of the conversation:
"Even if I told someone, who'd actually believe me? Honestly, not even Lil'M would believe me."
Alex chuckled when he heard 'Lil'M's name. That girl—he knew her stubborn and rebellious nature all too well. Despite everything, though, she was Amy's best friend, and Alex had known her since their childhood days back in elementary school.
He let Amy walk away, watching as she crossed the intersection and disappeared among the crowd on the next street. As for him, he decided to head back. Staying out any longer would just wear him out, especially since exhaustion had already gotten the better of him this time.
Near "Mimi Manzi's Diner," Alex hurried back to Jeremiah and Salim, who didn't seem to have noticed his absence. As he approached, a wave of worry hit Salim, and he asked nervously, "Did Amy… leave?" stepping away from Jeremiah and moving closer to Alex.
Alex replied with a strained voice, "Yeah, she just left, so don't worry. She was just busy. Did you have a message you wanted me to pass on to her?"
Salim's face flushed red, making it obvious he had feelings for Amy, feelings that weren't too old but not exactly new either. Stammering, he answered, "No, no… I was just wondering… Did she ask about me? I mean, did she mention our names when she said goodbye?"
Jeremiah stepped closer to Salim, placing a confident hand on his shoulder. "Bro, are you serious? Haha… Don't tell me you've got a thing for her…" Before he could finish, Salim shoved his hand firmly over Jeremiah's mouth, trying to shut him up.
After all, no one knew Salim better than Jeremiah, his friend since they were little kids.
From inside his car, Dave watched the scene unfold with tired eyes. He wasn't much older than Alex and Chris—maybe two years at most—while Chris was about to turn fourteen soon.
Dave wondered to himself about the sudden tension between the two friends. He sighed deeply, muttering, "What's up with those two now? Weren't they just getting along a minute ago?"
Alex replied in a neutral tone, "I don't know either, and I don't wanna know." Both of them preferred to steer clear of getting involved in the argument.
Alex took a closer look at the old car Dave was driving. Honestly, it looked like it was about to fall apart.
The roof was riddled with holes—so many you'd lose count. The windshield was completely shattered, and the hood was barely hanging on. As for the black smoke pouring out of the engine, it rose to the sky without pause.
"Think your car's gonna make it?" Alex asked curiously, fully aware he was partly responsible for what had happened to it.
Dave laughed with over-the-top confidence and said, "Don't worry! This beast here is a Jaguar XJ 12. It'll never let me down… or at least, that's what Big Ted told me when I bought it from him."
Alex looked at the car, his face full of doubt. He already knew what kind of car it was and said, "If it's that old, could you at least drop me off at home? It's getting late—it's almost ten."
Dave firmly refused, as if blaming Alex for the chaotic day. "Don't even think about it. Your house is just three blocks away. Walk a bit; some fresh air will do you good."
Dave started the engine, which groaned with strange noises but managed to keep running. He turned to Alex, waving as he said, "Alright then… see ya!" He sped off, surrounded by a cloud of thick smoke.
Before he got too far, Dave yelled out loudly, trying to make his point clear: "Hey, man! Seriously, we need to talk later about what happened and that guy who was chasing you. If I had more time, I'd sit down and figure it all out with you. But right now, I gotta get to Big Ted's before his shop closes."
Dave drove off without looking back. Alex waved goodbye, but Dave didn't return the gesture. Alex could tell Dave was genuinely mad at him.
Muttering to himself, Alex said, "Well, I guess I don't have much of a choice… I'll stick with you guys tonight."
The pointless bickering between Salim and Jeremiah over emotions that seemed irrelevant finally came to an end.
Salim, with a tone that carried some blame, asked, "Were you really gonna leave with him and ditch us here, dude? That's cold, and definitely not cool."
Alex answered honestly, without even trying to hide his intentions: "Yeah, I was going to. But I failed at that too. Let's go, guys… like I have any other choice. This is inevitable."
He followed behind Salim and Jeremiah, who were walking ahead, still caught up in an energetic discussion.
Alex couldn't help but notice the heated argument between them, which seemed to revolve around a certain girl.
Salim, keeping pace with Jeremiah, commented casually, "I think Amy's a terrorist," referring to the bomb incident.
Jeremiah replied dismissively, "I don't think so, buddy."
Definitely on the next street
On another street, not too far away, Amy continued on her way under the dull glow of streetlights. The deserted streets echoed with the hurried rhythm of her footsteps mingling with those of passersby. The stars barely twinkled in New York's sky, but she paid them no attention, unlike others preoccupied with their own lives. Her mind was consumed with something else as she weaved through the flow of pedestrians.
She stopped near a traffic light pole, waiting to cross to the other side, when her smartwatch buzzed again, just as it had earlier. She pressed a hidden button on the pentagonal watch, where there were two buttons at the top and one at the bottom. The ringing shifted to a voice call, audible only to her through the small wireless earpiece she was wearing.
"Yes, yes, I'm on my way. I just finished up, though there were a few issues. Yeah, I gathered a lot of intel. I'll send it to you now, so please don't rush me. Honestly, such a stupid facility. I don't even understand what they'll gain from stockpiling this many MFS stones."
The voice coming from the watch was tense, slightly distorted, but distinctly that of a mature girl, her tone carrying a sharp intelligence.
"Yes, I got the data. It says here the goods will be moved at midnight tonight," the voice replied.
Amy's tone sharpened, worry creeping in at the mention of such a large quantity of MFS stones being transported:
"Yeah, I know. We need to act fast. We don't know what will happen if they deliver those stones."
The voice responded, now tinged with fear:
"You're right..."
Then, another voice chimed in—smooth, confident, and commanding:
"I'll make sure they move quickly before the shipment. We're running out of time."
Amy, her voice laced with both concern and determination, said firmly:
"Please, hurry."
She ended the call and continued walking alone, her steady footsteps echoing through the silent street.
In the meantime:
In the dark corners of the city, a man in a formal black suit topped with a traditional coat walks silently. Two stern-faced guards follow closely behind him. The sound of their footsteps echoes through the empty streets, while the gleaming eyes of hidden cats reflect the dim light.
His steps broke the calm of the quiet neighborhood, audible to a small group chatting casually at the end of the road. They ignored him completely as he entered a narrow alleyway-like street. He stopped at the second branching path between two tightly packed buildings.
The man halted abruptly, bending down to examine scattered debris on the ground. Mechanical parts leaking a clear substance, along with exposed electronic components, littered the area.
Following the trail, he came across a severed robotic arm, faint sparks flying from its broken edges. He continued walking, tracing the debris until he reached a dark corner of the street. There, he found Hudson—a marvel of engineering that somehow remained "alive." Or rather, "alive"—a strange word to describe a mechanical being.
"So, I guess you failed to get the job done, Employee No. 246. Right?" the man remarked, his voice dripping with sarcasm and disdain.
Hudson was nearly completely wrecked. His limbs were missing, and his voice box was shattered beyond repair. He tried to lift himself using what remained of his broken arm, his red eyes flickering as his human-like face distorted to reveal the complex metals and electronics beneath. His efforts were in vain; he collapsed again, helpless and pitiful, surrounded by scraps and garbage.
"The little rats got away from you?" The man keeps interrogating, his voice gradually shifting as anger rises. "Arthur told me that a few rats broke into your branch of the facility, stole some critical data, and worst of all, they slipped right out of your grasp."
The two guards accompanying him step forward, their right hands morphing into sleek weapons. Each weapon ends with two parallel barrels, glowing with clusters of icy blue laser energy, resembling frozen shards. They were gearing up to execute Hudson, who had failed in his mission.
Before the guards could carry out the execution, a mysterious voice broke the silence, demanding an end to this "nonsense." The voice came from above, and soon after, its owner descended into view.
He introduced himself as Cipher Q7, "A Creation of the New Order," declaring that he was there to prevent Hudson's exile under the command of the Primordial System.
Cipher revealed that Arthur had already informed the main branch of Hudson's success in delivering the MFS Lunar Stones—a mission critical to the company after their prolonged struggles with the Purple Dragons.
Cipher ordered Hudson to be sent to the Rehabilitation Unit and announced that he would personally handle the matter of the "escaping rats," ominously promising that they "were in for a whole lot of fun."
His voice faded into the alley, leaving the guards puzzled.
One of the guards, Lee with the trench coat, asked, "E74, what now? Do we still go through with the mission?"
The other guard replied, "Nothing we can do. An order from the Primordial System has to be followed... Take him to the rehab center."
A strange sense of relief washed over Hudson. At last, those sharp eyes that had been haunting him dimmed. He embraced the darkness of the day, drifting into a dreamless sleep, waiting for what lay ahead after his rehabilitation.
End of chapter
To be continued in the next chapter.