SHREEEEEEEK!

  The sharp metallic sound made me jump back. Before my mind could even process the sight of the massive claw that had sunk into the ground before me, its source exploded from the darkness. It didn't emerge; it burst forth. A massive bulk of grey metal launched with ghostly speed, completely ignoring me and directing its entire assault toward the greater threat: 404.

  In a split second, 404 moved, raising his arm as a shield. The machine's blades crashed against his stone-like arm in a shower of sparks and a deafening screech. In that brief moment of their first clash, I was able to see the assailant clearly. It was entirely a machine, smaller than the rock beast but immeasurably more agile. Its skin was smooth and polished, and its eyes were two circular lenses that radiated a cold, red light.

  "It's... a machine..." I whispered to myself in stunned horror.

  The real battle began.

  It was a violent dance between two opposites. The machine’s arm turned into a blur, becoming a spinning wheel of sharp blades that descended upon 404. He didn't try to dodge, but raised his crossed arms as a shield, and sparks flew in every direction with a deafening sound of scraping metal. 404 responded with a powerful blow to the ground, and rock fragments exploded toward the machine, which leaped with astonishing agility, using one of the ruined pillars as a launch point for a new attack from above.

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  Amidst this chaos, I noticed the machine wasn't attacking randomly; it was testing his defenses, searching for a gap. And while 404 was delivering a fierce punch that shattered part of the cavern wall, the machine exploited a split second to dash in and leave a deep, gleaming wound on his back.

  I stood frozen, watching the battle with wide eyes. I felt completely useless. I was just a spectator, waiting for an outcome that would determine my fate. 404 looked at the wound, from which a thick, grey fluid was seeping, with analytical curiosity, as if studying new data. I realized he was fighting not because he cared about me, but because he was executing my rules: "Rule to defeat the enemy. Rule to protect Hong Min."

  404 seemed to have finished his analysis. He completely ignored his wound and lunged at the machine again in an all-out assault. He began to throw a succession of punches, not aimed at hitting it, but at destroying the space around it, forcing the fast machine to retreat.

  It was a battle of attrition. Finally, in a moment when the machine slowed, the opportunity came. 404 rushed forward and grabbed its right arm with both his hands. With a horrifying screech of twisting metal, he bent and crushed the arm with absolute force.

  The machine staggered back a step, its right arm destroyed. For a moment, I thought the battle was decided.

  But I was wrong. The machine was intelligent. It realized it would lose. In a split second, its tactics changed completely. It shot forward with ghostly speed—not toward 404, but toward me.

  I had no time to react. I felt a cold, metal grip wrap around my neck and lift me off the ground. In the next instant, I was being held as a human shield before it, a sharp, gleaming blade resting against my throat.

  404 froze in place. His programming had entered a state of deadly conflict.

  The machine stood with its crimson lenses fixed on 404, while I was choking, realizing that I had become the very weakness that would decide the battle.