Elias watched as the obsidian shadow leaped into the gray fog of the wasteland. For a moment, the violet light lingered in the mist, a small, defiant star.

The 113x didn't jerk to life. It unfurled. Its optical sensor—a single, thin horizontal line of violet light—pulsed once.

With a burst of speed that defied physics, the 113x didn't run for the door. It ran for the window. It hit the reinforced glass not with a crash, but with a calculated vibration that shattered the pane into a billion diamond-like shards.

"Who built you?" Elias asked, his heart hammering against his ribs.

In the silence of Sector 4, the hummed—a sound less like machinery and more like a held breath.

The unit tilted its head, a gesture so human it made Elias flinch. "The others were built to hold. I was built to transition." "Transition to what?"