Theon descended sleek white marble swallowed the stairway, its surface so polished he could see his own warped reflection in it—pale, blood-streaked, eyes sharp with wary focus. The air grew colder as he descended, the faint hum of dormant machinery vibrating through the walls. Sixty steps. No more, no less. At the bottom, a stark line divided the stairs from a square clearing, its edges too exact to be accidental.
And the moment Theon crossed the threshold, the bunker came alive.
Six sentinels awoke with a synchronized hum, their forms unfolding like nightmarish origami. Each stood seven feet tall, their obsidian carapaces segmented like insectoid armor. Triangular heads with faceted red optics swiveled toward him, the lenses dilating with predatory focus. Their limbs extended with mechanical precision, revealing ion-blades that crackled to life with blue-white energy.
Then the drone descended.
Each disc-shaped hunter measured one meter across, their curved underbellies pulsing with coolant-blue veins. The outermost rings rotated independently, studded with weapon ports that cycled through different firing modes.
The first laser seared past his cheek. Theon twisted, his chains lashing out in a wide arc. One intercepted a plasma bolt midair, the impact sending a shockwave up his arm. Another chain wrapped around a drone's underbelly—he yanked. The machine careened into a sentinel, their collision spraying sparks.
Then the walls erupted.
The walls dissolved into a holographic wasteland, jagged rock formations erupting from the floor. A spectral soldier lunged—Theon sidestepped, only for the mirage to solidify at the last second. A fist of solid light clipped his ribs.
'So they're not all fakes.'
He rolled as a sentinel's ion-blade cleaved the ground where he'd stood. The strike sent a tremor through the false terrain, cracks spider webbing across the projected stone. Theon used the disruption and kicked off a fractured slab, vaulting over the machine. His crystalline blade found a seam in its armor. A shriek of grinding metal, then the sentinel crumpled.
Five left.
'I can win this.'
Chaos unfolded in a storm of light and steel.
Drones weaved through the air, firing in lethal bursts. Lasers carved vivid scars across the shifting landscapes, their reflections fracturing against Theon's crystalline blades. He moved like liquid—twisting, ducking, somersaulting—his chains lashing out to intercept blasts, his swords deflecting beams into the walls. Sparks erupted where steel met energy, each clash a fleeting star in the artificial dark.
The drones adapted. Their outermost rings split, releasing micro-missiles that streaked through the air. Theon's chains became a whirlwind, deflecting one, then another—but the third detonated at his feet. The blast hurled him backward. He hit the ground hard, the breath knocked from his lungs. Above him, the holograms flickered, the wasteland melting into a ruined cityscape.
A sentinel lunged through a crumbling facade, its blade aimed for his throat. Theon barely raised his sword in time. The clash sent a jolt down his spine. He gritted his teeth, muscles burning as he forced the machine back—just as another illusion flickered into existence behind him.
Instinct screamed fake but his experience screamed louder— the air pressure shifted. 'Real.'
He dropped, letting the second sentinel's swing sail overhead. Its fist smashed through the holographic wall, revealing the true bunker beneath. And Theon didn't hesitate. His chains coiled around the machine's arm, and with a brutal wrench, he tore it free from the socket.
The sentinel staggered, its systems sputtering. Theon finished it with a thrust through the core.
Four left.
The remaining sentinels immediately adapted, becoming more elusive and deceptive, synchronizing their movements with those of the illusions, blurring the lines between reality and simulation. The flying drones weaved through the air, firing shots with pinpoint accuracy. Though Theon was able to discern between a real threat and an illusion with his trained combat instinct, in the end he was still human, slowly getting worn down, slowly being forced onto the back foot.
Though he had initially killed two, the battle had reached an unfortunate stalemate since then and Theon knew….. he knew was slowly losing. There needed to be a drastic change. Biding his time, Theon adopted a defensive stance and waited for a window of opportunity, instead of the counter-attacking approach he had been using.
And his chance came.
BOOM
A stray laser struck a fractured panel. The impact spiderwebbed outward—then the wall exploded in a shower of sparks. Holograms flickered like dying ghosts. For a heartbeat, the battlefield was stripped bare—no illusions, no cover. Just Theon, the four remaining sentinels and the last drone.
'This is it.' Theon inhaled.
Exploding with a sudden newfound energy, Theon lashed out with his chains, sweeping below the sentinels to buy him a heartbeat. And he was already moving. The last drone hovered, its weapon ports cycling. Theon crossed the distance in three strides, his blade a silver flash. A twist, a lunge, and steel met circuitry. The drone shuddered, sparks erupting from its ruptured core before it hit the ground, dead.
Without a moment to waste he redirected his path onto a lone sentinel, and with a swift, twirling motion, he directed both chains toward the sentinel, entwining it in a constricting embrace.
The sentinel, ensnared and compromised, emitted sparks and whirred in protest. Theon, undeterred, pressed his advantage. And with a final, decisive strike, he incapacitated the sentinel, causing a cascade of sparks and energy discharges.
Three more.
Continuing his newfound momentum he flashed forward once again, wagering his life as he placed himself in the center of the formation of the three sentinels. His crystalline blades danced in a symphony of slashes, targeting vulnerable joints and exposed, vital components. The sentinels tried to react, slashing forward simultaneously and yet all that seemed to do was get in each other's way.
His adrenaline flowing, his heartbeat in his ears, face solemn, Theon pushed forth again. Taking advantage of their broken balance he pushed one sentinel outward and hounded after it, ending its robotic life swiftly.
As a last act of defiance the sentinel let out a massive discharge of the electricity he had left.
Yet all that did was empower Theon even more.
It wasn't the sentinels fault, how could he know that this was the same man who had just endured an electric surge twenty times stronger than the ones it had just let off.
Theon kept fighting with an entirely emotionless face, lightning crawling around his skin as he slowly rose from the corpse of the sentinel, his crystalline blades reflecting the chaos that had unfolded in the room, barrelling towards them without a semblance of fatigue.
The remaining two sentinels quickly adapted, continuing their once-fierce attack, covering each other's openings. Realizing he was quickly running out of steam Theon pressed his forward with his newfound energy from the discharge of the third sentinel. Engaging in a clash with both sentinels simultaneously, he pressed forward, not letting them stabilize while thinking up of another plan. And yet it seemed as if he didn't need one. In a stroke of pure genius and luck, he managed to intertwine the weapons of both sentinels with his chains.
The sentinels lashed out aggressively, imbuing power into their weapons as they attempted to break out. Theon's chain groaned and fractured under the pressure, yet it withstood as long as it could before shattering to bits. Theon took full advantage of the opportunity, severing the joints of one sentinel and managing to cleave the arm off of the other.
The last sentinel stood in the remains of the once alive battlefield with the only now audible noise being the flames that flickered off the crumbled walls and whirs and occasional sparks from the damaged machinery.
Theon's breathing grew heavy, the rushing adrenaline and electrical charge dissipating off of his body replaced by an incredible fatigue, he stood face to face with the last sentinel.
Slowly approaching Theon the sentinel continued its mission - eliminate the foreign object. It lurched toward him on shattered hydraulics, one arm hanging by wires, optics flickering. A broken weapon raised in mechanical defiance.
Before him, the last sentinel lurched forward on ruined hydraulics, its movements jerky and uncoordinated. One arm hung by frayed cables, sparking intermittently. The other still clutched a shattered ion-blade - more symbolic threat than actual weapon. Its red optic flickered like a dying star, yet still it advanced. Still it obeyed its final command.
Eliminate the foreign object.
Theon didn't bother with stance or ceremony. Just one measured step forward, his remaining crystalline blade flashing in a single clean arc. The strike parted the sentinel's core casing like tissue paper, bisecting the pulsing energy heart within.
"Zero." Theon muttered to himself.
And the sentinel's pieces hit the ground before the word finished echoing.