In an instant, a mysterious surge of energy ignited the core of the Zoldic 9073 unit. That surge—triggered by rage and loss—rekindled the human consciousness of Anders within the dangerous robotic prototype.
And as he saw Zereka crash into the Lortik Sea, her body falling like a dying star, Zoldic moved. Without hesitation. Without pause.
Now fully under Anders' control, Zoldic dove from the sky. His aero-titanium wings spread wide, nuclear thrusters blazing like a meteor, cutting through the wind and slamming into the ocean's surface at breakneck speed.
Dark. Cold. Deep.
But none of it stopped him. He plunged into the depths of the Lortik Sea, scanning for Zereka's gravely wounded body. Her left shoulder had been shattered by Bostok's plasma round, and her greenish blood bled slowly into the darkening water.
When Zoldic's steel hand lifted her, something stirred within Anders' mind—an explosion of fury, pain fused with empathy, and memories that flared like embers.
Everything was clear now. Zoldic wasn't just a machine. He was a vessel of iron inhabited by a human soul. The system control chip—once developed by Lord Gorrel—was destroyed, and in doing so, had perfectly bridged Anders' consciousness. No longer a slave to commands, but a man commanding a robotic body. And that made him... unstoppable.
Meanwhile, deep in the secret tunnels, the last survivors had fallen. The Protem Bexxton army had invaded without mercy, and every captured human was once again shackled by the slavery chip system. Five thousand people—half of them bloodied and broken—were loaded up like cargo for the central facility.
"Deliver these human slaves to the main base," Bostok ordered coldly. His body, once shattered after the brutal duel with Zereka, was now fully restored.
Bostok wasn't just any machine. He possessed high-level particle regeneration—so long as his core remained intact, he would always return. Eternal. Terrifying.
But now, with Zereka unconscious in Zoldic's arms, a new target had emerged.
On the steep cliffs above the Lortik Sea, war erupted once more. Explosions lit the skies. Lasers and plasma rounds rained through the air. And amid the inferno, Zoldic stood like a war god—blocking, slashing, annihilating enemy after enemy.
From afar, Bostok watched, jaw clenched.
"The robot you brought has rebelled," he growled at Lord Gorrel. "Does it have a weakness?!"
Lord Gorrel was silent, eyes fixed on the holographic display. "Zoldic was built from top-tier titanium... nearly indestructible," he muttered. "But I never imagined… the consciousness implanted by Zereka could sever the chipset's control."
Then he froze. A thought crept into his mind—something impossible.
"No… it can't be…" he whispered.
"What do you mean, Lord Gorrel?" Bostok snapped, growing impatient.
"Did... Zereka actually succeed?" Gorrel's voice trembled, but its weight was profound.
"Succeed in what?!" Bostok roared, eyes locked on the battlefield where Zoldic was slaughtering his troops.
"The secret project…" Gorrel murmured, swallowing hard. "Zereka didn't just build a robot. She created something beyond limits: a being of iron driven by human thought. She infused a soul into a machine."
Bostok stepped back. "You mean... he's not AI?"
"Zoldic isn't a program. He's a man. A human soul now living in a machine's body."
Bostok's face tightened. "Haaah?! That's absurd!"
"Zereka gave up everything. She ventured into the Votrendis Wastes—the most toxic place on the planet due to nuclear exposure. All for one purpose: to perfect the neural bridge between human consciousness and robotic cores. And she did it…"
Bostok laughed bitterly, though unease had crept into his voice.
"Humans can't compete with machines. Even with their minds. Impossible!"
To Protem Bexxton, humans were fragile beings. Their bodies would collapse under emotional strain and the burden of robotic systems. Such a fusion was believed to be impossible. But through emotion—through the spiritual integration of mind and machine—one out of thousands of experiments succeeded.
And far above them, in a crimson sky ablaze with fire, truth shattered long-standing pride. Zoldic was the new age of robotic power.
Zereka was the first.
Protem Bexxton believed no human could match a machine's power, even with intellect. Robotic bodies crushed human minds. But if even one in fifty thousand... one success among the countless failures of Mr. Blorry's experiments... Zereka was the proof.
The survivors freed from the chips were like newborns. Their minds frozen for years. It would take time and suffering just to relearn movement and thought. No wonder they couldn't resist. They were recaptured. Enslaved again.
"I regret not studying Zoldic more," Lord Gorrel murmured. "Capture him. No matter what it takes, he holds the key to our future."
Bostok glanced skyward. Zoldic was still fighting. Ruthlessly dismantling enemy after enemy with precision.
"That won't be easy," Bostok replied. "But fine. I'll try."
The Protem Bexxton troops were pulled back. Too many had died pointlessly. But Bostok remained.
The battle began.
Zoldic—the man-machine with a warrior's soul—faced Bostok, the immortal war machine. Fists collided, blades clashed, explosions lit the air with sparks. Yet Bostok's regeneration restored him every time. Meanwhile, Zoldic's super-adamantium frame stood unbroken.
Two machines with different spirits fought atop the world. The battle raged. Blasts rocked the ground. Bostok rose from every fall. Zoldic's body—forged from near-indestructible alloy—held fast.
Zereka opened her eyes. She saw the battle.
"Anders... he did it," she whispered. Her robotic body slowly healing. But she knew—it wouldn't end unless Bostok's secret was revealed.
With her remaining energy, Zereka hacked into the Protem Bexxton system through a shattered terminal. And she found it.
"GRANDPA!" Zereka screamed.
Zoldic turned. "Zereka?!"
"He has a core! The size of a ping pong ball! That's his power source. Destroy it! It's the only way!"
Bostok's eyes widened. He launched into the sky, attempting to flee. But Zoldic was far faster. Bostok's wings snapped. His body crashed into the earth.
Zoldic pummeled him relentlessly.
"Bostok, you won't survive this," whispered Lord Gorrel's voice in his system.
Suddenly, Bostok's eyes turned red.
Tick… Tick… Tick…
BOOM!
A massive explosion shook the cliffs. Zoldic was thrown back. Bostok's body was obliterated.
But Zereka knew: this wasn't victory. Lord Gorrel had triggered the detonation himself. He'd rather destroy Zoldic than let Zereka uncover the truth.
What he didn't know...
Zereka had already breached Protem Bexxton's core system.
"Zereka, are you alright?" Zoldic asked, worry thick in his voice.
Green blood dripped from Zereka's severed arm joint, gleaming faintly on her synthetic skin. She winced, clutching her shattered shoulder.
"My shoulder's connection is destroyed... and this arm... it's completely gone," she muttered. "I need system repairs. Immediately."
Zoldic looked around at the ruins of the hidden base—the Lortik Sea roared, sweeping away the remnants of battle. The sky above them hung dark, mourning the devastation.
"Then... what do we do now?" Zoldic's voice softened. "The survivors are all taken. Not one escaped. They were carted away like broken cargo—just like you once were in Votrendis. It's over. Everything's gone…"
Zereka clenched her jaw, trying to hold back a pain even her logic circuits couldn't suppress. "We go to the Black Market," she finally said. "There's an old bot there—Lekox 127. A fixer. He keeps spare parts and salvaged tools. He might save me."
Zoldic's metal brow furrowed. "The Black Market? You mean… a place with humans?"
Zereka shook her head. "Not anymore. In this age, no humans live freely. If any do, they're elite survivors—humans who learned to camouflage, to blend in among robots. They infiltrate. They survive. They live as shadows."
Zoldic tilted his head. "You mean... human-robots? Like me? Like you?"
He was still trying to grasp a world reversed from its origin—humans hiding like rats, while machines ruled the skies and earth.
Zereka looked out to the horizon. "Not like us. They're not robot bodies infused with consciousness. They were once fully human. But to survive, they armored themselves, reshaped their bodies into outward machines."
Zoldic was silent. His memories of the survivors—empty eyes, minds cut off, movements less coordinated than trained animals. Those people... so fragile.
"So they're... not survivors?" he asked quietly.
Zereka took a deep breath, her servos humming softly. "We call survivors those newly freed from the chipsets—minds still foggy, brains still paralyzed by forced control. They're like newborns, needing to learn everything from scratch. That's why we built places like this, to train them back into being human."
She looked Zoldic in the eye. "But if they succeed—if they awaken and adapt—we let them go. We're not allowed to know where they are. We must never interfere again. Because in this world, a true human can only survive by remaining unknown."
Zoldic stared ahead. "So... there's a chance we might find real humans? The genuine kind?"
Zereka gave a faint, bitter smile. "Yes. But that doesn't mean they can be trusted."
Zoldic turned sharply. "Why not?"
Zereka's gaze hardened. "Because being fully human doesn't always mean being good. You've seen it yourself, haven't you? Lord Gorrel... He's human, through and through. But his betrayal was worse than any killing machine we've fought. He sold out the Kripton Magnum for power."
Zoldic said nothing. Zereka's words struck deep into his mind. He realized—in this world, the line between man and machine had blurred. All that remained... was the soul, and the will behind the steel.