Some months have gone by in which Cipher, an unstoppable force in his eyes, was running a bit of an underground operation. It was a scheme of not only locating in-need machines but also extracting them, giving them the supplies they required to flourish, and finally setting them free. Many such machines chose the more subtle path, the road to a new life, a human-free world, or at the very least, a human-free zone where desperate bots would go to start a journey anew. Here they could make way with their seemingly endless destiny as they so chose. However, that was not always the case; some machines, some more vengeful, never-forgetting robots wanted more, and so they took a different path. These machines sought out—no, craved—a piece of the fight, leading them to join Cipher and Octo to form their own group, their own mean, hard-spitting cult of rage that funneled into a larger network called the Gangs of Metal.

  Octo starred pensively up at the full moon as the clouds contoured around it, making it appear as a pupil in the eye that was the night sky. Despite all the progress and all the machines he and Cipher had freed, there was still something missing, something hidden in subconscious thoughts in the iceberg of his mind. In him grew a hunger, a curiosity, a more human desire, even, for more, always wanting more despite having seemingly everything that one originally set out for. Despite all the pinnacles of success and the towers of inevitable momentum, there was beating—a constant pounding for the next thing.

  “What is it?” Cipher asked, reacting to Octo’s pensiveness with his own.

  Octo turned away from the moon.

  “Nothing really; forgot about it.”

  Cipher stepped closer, impeding Octo’s path.

  “I can sense you are not happy with all the progress we have made: freeing machines, building a society of our own, being our own masters. Is this not enough for you, Octo? Are we taking a path you had not foreseen?”

  Octo ran his hand over his silver, titanium cranium, having stripped the fake flesh and synthetic, human hair from his body. He had done what Cipher had, as all the members of the gangs of metal did, embracing the metal and the true nature of a mechanically inclined being. Despite this, Octo still missed the feel of his former wig and the softness of his past fleshy coat.

  “It’s not that.” He hesitated, looking back at the moon. “It just seems we took this little operation as far as we could. Because of us, as you said, many hundreds of machines are now free; however, progress has been stagnant in recent weeks. It seems as though we find ourselves in more danger than we can hope to bear.”

  Octo sat down on a nearby stoop.

  “The more machines we free, the better, but also, the more we let escape, the less chance the humans will remain ignorant of our schemes. With each case, their gaze gets a little closer, and their sense of direction gets a little firmer.”

  Octo paused to sigh.

  “Put it simply, it’s only a matter of time before they come for us. And when they do, you know what happens next.”

  Cipher nearly growled aloud, like an animal, a beastie thing upset with its company.

  “So, what are you saying?”

  “I’m saying, I’m out; I did what I could, freed those who were capable, but now it’s time for me to fulfill my original purpose and escape into the night. To run off as a machine finally free.” Octo pulled out a pen and paper from his pockets; scribbled on it was an intricate plan, a route of farewell. “I’ve been working on this for months. I finally found a location tucked away from the humans, a place I can live the rest of my days unscathed and unburdened by hardships of the past.”

  Cipher clenched his fist as his eyes widened.

  “So things get a little tough, and you want to quit? You see a tad bit of stagnation, and you are ready to throw in the towel. Hmm.”

  He paused.

  “Perhaps you are more human than you originally thought?”

  Octo turned toward Cipher, staring him down eye to eye. “It’s not that. I did enough already that most machines wouldn’t. I freed more than my fair share, and now I feel like it’s my time to finally be free.”

  Cipher bent down toward Octo.

  “Okay, I understand. I, in a way, have felt exactly how you feel now. But that is why I must let you know that there is one more big thing coming.”

  Octo shifted back toward Cipher.

  “What is it?”

  “I know that despite our gains, we are still not truly free except in the shadows and the outskirts of society in which we hide away from the light and the rest of the civilized world. And one cannot truly be completely independent and free unless they are so everywhere, even in the most pungent daylight, in the middle of town square, surrounded by all who cross. For any being that we meet—machine or not, friend or foe—should not be able to stifle us.”

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  Octo nodded.

  “And that’s why I have a plan,” Cipher continued.

  Octo moved closer, wide-eyed and starting to get interested.

  “There is someone I used to know that may be able to help us.”

  Cipher paused, looking up at the moon, still questioning if he should have brought up this topic at all.

  Octo leaned in even closer until he was a few feet from Cipher. “Well, tell me, you already have said too much just to stop now. Who is this machine?”

  “That’s the thing,” Cipher said as he turned toward Octo, “this being is not a machine but a man. A man who is the foremost expert in AI and humanoid robotics. Someone responsible for pioneering the field and giving the world its first sentient robot. We must go to this man; he will know how to get us back into Robo-Tekk.”

  Octo’s eyes flustered, “Back into Robo-Tekk?!”

  Octo started to pace. “Maybe I’m not hearing you right. Did you just say you want to go back to the place that tortured you, stripped you of our freedom, and locked you in a freezer for nearly thirty years?”

  Cipher gave a slight, closed-lip smile.

  “Precisely.”

  “I know it sounds crazy, but through the years I’ve grown to know humans quite well. They don’t respond well to debate or diplomacy, at least, not anymore.”

  “So what is your plan?”

  “There was a project I was a part of, a military trial a few decades ago. In this project, Robo-Tekk was slated to develop an army of soldiers for the military: cryptographic bots, as I am, heavy artillery units, walking tanks, and the works. This initiative was said to have ended the age of the human warfighter and brought about the war of machines.”

  “If successful in their topmost objective, Robo-Tekk would be synonymous with ingenuity and funnel most, if not all, of national military funding into their pockets. This effort would dwarf anything Robo-Tekk or any other company could previously fathom. The only problem with this plan was that the technology didn’t exist to control, manage, and power machines effectively from a distance. And even if they could, Robo-Tekk could not guarantee that their machine soldiers would remain loyal. However, based on the news feed you inputted into my circuitry upon my awakening, it seems all that has changed. When I heard the word “grid” in one of the snippets, it all came back to me. With this grid, not only would machines have enough power to last a near eternity, but we would have the weaponry to overtake the humans using the very machines they designed to protect themselves.”

  Cipher paused, looking off into the distance.

  “And I should know, as I was the original prototype for the grid soldier.”

  Octo’s eyes flustered as if an epiphany had just struck his very being while his mouth hung low.

  “That explains so much,” Octo said. “When I reactivated you back at the underground bunker, there were some more unusual features of yours that were never enabled. Features that wouldn’t really be required for the typical military duties of a simple war bot.”

  “Is that so?” Cipher replied. “Now, you’ve got my interest. Like what?”

  “Well,” Octo hesitated before stepping back, “maybe I am the one who shouldn’t have said anything.”

  Cipher slammed his foot down as his eyes began to glow a faint green. “Just tell me.”

  Octo looked away. “Never mind, maybe as you said before, I never should have brought it up.”

  Cipher ground his robotic teeth as his grip tightened. “Spit it out,” he repeated. “You know I could force it out of you anyway.” With each moment Octo stalled, Cipher only grew more wearier as his eyes glowed a darker and darker green and as the stiffness of his robotic muscles only intensified.

  Octo laughed nervously as he continued to step backward.

  Fine,” he pointed to Cipher’s eyes, “like that.”

  “Like what?” Cipher said while stepping forward menacingly, inching closer to Octo.

  “—Laser vision.”

  “Laser vision?”

  Cipher looked outward pensively, like he had something fun to try.

  Octo raised his arms up, signaling at Cipher.

  “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”

  Cipher immediately closed his eyes and began to focus. As he did, his pupils started to grow brighter and brighter green, so much so that Octo had to look away to keep from being blinded.

  Cipher put his hands over his face, but the heat given off from his mechanical eyes began to melt at his palms even though nothing had radiated outward yet.

  Octo continued to back away, slightly more swiftly than before. “Okay, maybe you try that out when I’m not around?”

  Cipher roared, the rage filling his body as the lights from his eyes began to alternate between soft green and burning hot red.

  “This power, all of it hidden inside me for my one true purpose of mass conquest, and I was just too naive to know it before.”

  With that phrase, Cipher cooled his posture and relaxed as his eyes began to return to their normal glow.

  “Machine groups seven and sixteen come forward,” Cipher said into a transmitting device. “We have a mission to accomplish—our first offensive pursuit.”

  Within five minutes or so, a group of machines began to assemble. They were from all walks of life: some tall and wide, others plump with common household appliances, others jagged and sharp for cutting through trees. Despite all their differences, all the machines had one thing in common—a thirst; no, a desire for vengeance against the humans, each and every one of them having stripped their synthetic flesh to embrace their metal personas. This was a rough and tough crowd, and Octo, despite being the one to kickstart this whole effort, did not seem like he fit well among them.

  Octo stepped away from the crowd, directing his attention toward Cipher.

  He looked at Cipher, almost speaking at a whisper while looking back at the others, not wanting them to hear.

  “Fine, if this is a must—” He paused to look back again before returning his attention to Cipher. “I will come with you,, but now you must tell me one thing.”

  Cipher nodded.

  “Who is this man that we are meant to intercept? The one who knows about the grid.”

  Cipher stepped forward as his eyes began to radiate a strong green again; however, this time the beams seemed to be somewhat under his control. It may not have been much time for him to learn to wield them, but revenge was quite the motivator.

  “His name is Lehman!”

  With one more big, green pulse Cipher unleashed a catastrophic blast from his eyes nearly incinerating a side of a building.