Protem Bexxton. An elite hunting organization forged by the will of the Dragon Zovok—engineered with a single purpose: to hunt down and annihilate any entity deemed criminal or rebellious, especially the insurgent group known as Krypton Magnum, to the very root.
After years of relentless pursuit and the destruction of several hidden rebel bunkers, their robotic commander, Bostok, finally received a message from his recon unit. A lead. Coordinates that pointed to a dead zone known as Votrendis—a scorched wasteland long abandoned due to extreme nuclear radiation. No sane human dared step foot there. But they weren't human. They were engineered killers, built to endure the unendurable.
"This is it... their hiding place," Bostok muttered, his eyes glowing a menacing red."Prepare all combat units. We're going to level that nest."
"Sonic Radar 234 has scanned the full region. We've locked in the coordinates of the main bunker," reported Rogges, one of the recon bots. "Shall we strike from the air, sir?"
"No." Bostok shook his head slowly. "We go in ourselves. I want to witness their downfall... with my own eyes."
With the latest generation of supersonic assault crafts, they surged into the sky, cutting through the blistering atmosphere above Votrendis, heading straight for the locked target.
Beneath the scorched earth, deep under the desolate surface, the secret bunker began to tremble under a barrage of explosions. The ground quaked. Walls cracked. Alarms screamed in every corridor.
"You have to go, Grandfather," Zereka said firmly, her gaze tense and sharp. "They've found us."
"Who? Why should we run?" asked Zoldic, his voice metallic, deep, and rasping with that subtle distortion of a still-unrefined machine. "Let me face them."
"No! They're Protem Bexxton—Zovok's elite hunters. You're not ready to fight them yet."
Zoldic 9073—a prototype killing machine, now the new vessel for the consciousness of Anders. Born from remnants of Mr. Blorry's lost technology, he was the final masterpiece, perfected by Zereka herself. Yet within that mechanical shell, Anders' human mind lingered—an echo from a forgotten time.
"Zoldic," Zereka said softly. "You carry history within your body. If Anders' mind is destroyed, I disappear as well. He is my ancestor. We're bound by time."
Zoldic fell silent. Two souls in one frame—Anders, the man from the past, and the artificial being he now inhabited. They hadn't fully merged. Machine and man still stood apart, ununified.
"Then what should I do?" he asked at last.
Zereka pressed a panel on the wall. "I'm sending you on the W2 Supersonic Jet to Borealis Bay. There, you'll find Lord Gorrel. He holds the weaponry you need—the combat systems that can turn you into the deadliest weapon we've ever known."
"I thought this body was already strong enough…" Zoldic flexed his arm, observing the polished black metal shimmering with energy pulses.
"Your body is perfect for agility and tactical maneuvers—but not yet armed. I didn't have the resources... and we've run out of time. Now get into the W2. Hurry."
Outside, the explosions grew louder. The bunker shook violently. Zereka looked at Zoldic with fierce urgency.
"We'll stay connected," she said, handing him a small chip. "This only works in open space—don't rely on it inside bunkers or soundproof chambers."
She met his optic sensors directly.
"Anders… remember, this robot will truly become yours only when you fully merge with it. When it becomes your own body."
Anders—the soul trapped in Zoldic's frame—took a deep, artificial breath."But… how do I return to my world? Aren't I still trapped in a dream?"
Zereka looked down.
"There's something I forgot to tell you… While I managed to pull you into the future, I haven't found a way to send you back to your own time. For now… you're trapped here."
"What?! You mean I—"Anders' voice was cut off as the W2's door sealed shut and the activation system began its countdown.
Zereka turned away, facing the roaring blast overhead. She raised her weapon, ready.
Above ground, Bostok gave the final order.
"Destroy the primary seal. Dismantle the entire foundation. I want that bunker brought down—now."
One explosion after another tore through the underground compound, while the W2 launched into the sky like a lightning bolt, carrying the last hope of Krypton Magnum far from the inferno breaking open behind them.
Suddenly, a mechanical roar echoed from deep beneath the earth. A massive hatch at the center of the bunker began to open, releasing a billow of scalding steam mixed with glowing red light from within. In an instant, a supersonic aircraft shot out like a lightning bolt, slicing through Votrendis' dark, toxic sky. The W2 engine, pre-programmed with quadrant coordinates, arched sharply upward before piercing the upper clouds—engaging its thermal camouflage and radar-obliteration systems. To the enemy's eyes, it was nothing more than a flicker of light—unseen, untouchable.
Bostok growled. "Too late."
But that didn't stop the Protem Bexxton forces. The moment the hatch opened, dozens of hunter robots launched into the bunker's depths, sweeping through every corridor and chamber. Their optical beams scanned the walls. Infrared sensors lit up. Then—
BRRRRRRAAAK!!!
The metallic roar of clashing steel erupted across the bunker. Ancient robots, dormant for years, now awakened—reactivated by Zereka's internal defense system. They leapt from hidden panels in the walls, burst from the mechanical floor, and greeted the intruders with violent explosions and relentless attacks.
"ENGAGE COMBAT MODE!" screamed one of Kripton Magnum's guardian units before exploding alongside three nearby enemies.
Zereka lunged into the chaos. Her green hair whipped through a rain of sparks. Wielding a glowing blue Kripton blade—a pure metal forged from synthesized nuclear particles—she danced through waves of enemy hunters. Each strike severed steel, crushed mechanical necks, or pierced enemy armor.
"Come on, then…!" Zereka shouted, spinning her body as she sliced through two robots at once.
She moved like the wind—fluid, precise, lethal. Every motion had purpose. She was the perfect convergence of machine, human, and killer instinct.
An explosion rocked the bunker's west wing. Three Protem units were hurled into the air and shattered before hitting the ground. But the enemy kept coming. One by one, Zereka's robots fell—overwhelmed by Protem Bexxton's electromagnetic cannons and annihilation-grade lasers.
Zereka was being cornered. Wounds dotted her semi-cybernetic frame. Part of her shoulder armor had been ripped off. Cables protruded from her scorched thigh. But she didn't falter.
"If I have to die… I'm taking you with me," she hissed, hurling an ion grenade down the corridor.
DUARRRR!!! The blast split the hallway's structure. The bunker began to collapse.
Knowing this would be the end of the sanctuary she had long protected, Zereka pressed a control on her wrist. In a hidden chamber, a prototype robot resembling her slowly rose, receiving a full disguise program, then sprinted into battle—to deceive the enemy.
Meanwhile, the real Zereka used the chaos to slip into the ranks of Protem. Cloaked in smoke and rubble, she morphed her outer skin—adjusting heat, texture, and structural pattern—until she flawlessly mimicked a Protem hunter model. She moved slowly into their formation, indistinguishable from the rest.
No one noticed.
One soldier reported to Bostok, "Sir, everything's been cleared. But… that female bot appears to be just a standard model."
Bostok narrowed his eyes, staring at the shattered prototype of Zereka on the floor.
"Damn it…" he muttered. "She's not here. She escaped long before we arrived. We've been played. Wipe everything. Not a single piece of this place can remain."
"Yes, sir!" the squad responded.
Explosions and the roar of destruction engines thundered through the base. The entire bunker was riddled with bullets, bombs, and laser fire. Walls caved in. Secret labs, documents, ancient Kripton Magnum tech—everything was swallowed in a blaze of annihilation.
Yet, amidst the peak of that madness, Zereka—masked in enemy guise—watched the ruins of her world with glowing red eyes.
"This isn't over…" she whispered.
Then she vanished, retreating with the Protem troops, waiting for the moment to destroy them—from within.
Zoldic soared smoothly aboard the W2, slicing through the night sky of Votrendis. The radioactive clouds shimmered faintly in the distance, like a corrupted aurora, but the aircraft stayed steady in its course. Thanks to its unmatched speed and advanced navigation system, the journey west—spanning thousands of kilometers—took only minutes.
Through the glass cockpit, Zoldic gazed blankly outward. Endless barren ridges and scorched wastelands stretched below him. He knew his next destination—Borealis Bay—was more than just a waypoint. It was where his future and past might collide.
Upon reaching the designated coordinates, a holographic screen displayed Zereka's pre-mapped location. But what lay beneath... was nothing but devastation.
The remains of an old bunker were strewn across the frozen bay like the bones of a dead giant. The structure had been ripped open, scorched beyond recognition. Cold vapor rose from the ground. No signs of life remained.
The aircraft landed slowly, its systems following Zereka's auto-lock guidance. Once it stopped completely, the doors opened automatically. A surge of frigid air mixed with metallic ions swept over Zoldic's robotic face
He stepped down.
Silence. Absolute stillness. As if the world itself had died.
"What happened here...?" he muttered softly, suspicion and disappointment lacing his voice.
His steps took him toward the half-collapsed bunker. The walls were scorched, wires dangling from the ceiling. Zoldic moved cautiously, each footstep echoing sharply through the empty space.
"Hello...? Is anyone in there?" he called out, but there was no reply. Only the haunting echo of his own voice returned.
He wandered through the dark corridors, his eyes emitting a soft light to guide the way. Now and then, he mumbled to himself, "People...? Or machines...? Were they like Zereka... half metal, half human?"
Suddenly, his gaze locked onto something.
Amid the rubble, a long sword stood embedded in the ground—its blade a shimmering blue-silver. Zoldic approached and reached out. The weapon was nearly identical to Zereka's.
"Is this... hers?" he whispered, eyes fixed on the faint reflection of his own face in the glowing surface of the Kripton blade.
Just as his fingers brushed against the hilt, a low but firm voice rang out from the darkness.
"Put that down."
Zoldic turned instantly, shifting into a defensive stance. From behind the cold mist, a figure emerged—a middle-aged man with silver hair and piercing blue eyes.
"Who are you?" Zoldic asked, tense with suspicion.
The man didn't answer right away. He studied Zoldic closely, as if trying to decode something hidden deep within the robot's core.
"I should be the one asking. You… you're not from this world, are you?"
Zoldic hesitated, silent.
"Lord… Gorrel?" he asked softly, caught between hope and confusion.
The man nodded slowly."You know me?"
"I... only heard your name from Zereka. She's the one who sent me here."
Lord Gorrel's gaze sharpened."Then we don't have much time. Borealis Bay is no longer safe. If Zereka really sent you, then we're standing on the edge of a war far greater than you can imagine."
"Huh?" Zoldic blinked, baffled.