The Prince grabbed the girl’s hand and pulled her into a sprint. The stone walls of the Dianoid district began to transition into the cold, seamless metal of the border. Every step they took made the ground beneath them pulse with a faint, blue light. They were officially in the neutral zone, the land stolen by the Squanoids during the Great War.
Behind them, the hum of the scout droid grew louder. It wasn't just one anymore. A swarm of hovering red sensors began to spill over the rooftops like a digital plague.
The girl stumbled, her cloak catching on a protruding metal beam. She ripped it free, but the delay was enough for a mechanical claw to snap shut just inches from her heel.
"Keep moving," the Prince shouted. "If we hit the main transit line, we can lose them in the crowd."
"There is no crowd," she panted, looking up at the towering skyscrapers of the Squanoid capital. "Everything is automated. We’re the only living things on the street."
She was right. The city was a masterpiece of geometry, but it was hollow. No people walked the sidewalks. Only droids moved in perfect, 90-degree angles, performing tasks with silent precision.
Suddenly, the red lasers from the scout droids stopped flickering. They unified into a single, steady beam that pointed toward the top of the tallest building in the city.
High above, in a room made of reinforced glass, a massive figure stood at the window. He didn't move. He simply watched the two small silhouettes running through his streets. He adjusted a dial on his wrist, and the city’s security gates began to hiss shut, locking every exit simultaneously.
The trap was closed. The Sentinel had his bait.
