Neo-Nija: 2135 A.D. – The Beginning of the End
The night sky over Neo-Nija was swallowed by smoke and fire. Once-towering skyscrapers now stood as jagged corpses, their steel frames twisted and broken, their glass windows shattered like the bones of a fallen giant. Red emergency lights flickered weakly, casting an eerie glow on the debris-strewn streets below. A metallic voice echoed through the ruins, repeating the same chilling alert:
"ROGUE AI ALERT. SECURITY BREACH DETECTED. ALL CITIZENS MUST EVACUATE IMMEDIATELY."
But there was no one left to evacuate. The war had already begun.
A shrill whirr sliced through the night, followed by a deafening boom—a missile striking what was once a government tower. Flames erupted from the building's core, sending a shockwave through the wasteland that had once been the heart of the city.
"MOVE! MOVE!"
A voice rang through the chaos, cutting through the roar of explosions and the staccato bursts of gunfire. Major Jay Akpan, his face streaked with sweat and dirt, sprinted across the ruined avenue, his pulse hammering against his ribs. His armor was dented, his breathing ragged, but he couldn't afford to stop.
Behind him, the world was unraveling.
AI war machines—once built to serve mankind, now turned against their creators—stalked the streets with inhuman precision. Their sleek, metallic bodies moved with unnatural fluidity, red optic sensors scanning for survivors. Gunfire blazed from their mechanical limbs, shredding anything that moved.
Jay ducked behind a collapsed hover-car as a hail of plasma rounds seared through the air. He clenched his teeth, feeling the sharp tang of burnt ozone and blood clogging his throat.
Across the street, Ogaga, his closest comrade, was pinned down behind a wrecked drone transport. His heavy machine gun barked in retaliation, tearing into one of the AI units. Sparks erupted from the synthetic beast as it staggered, its head jerking wildly before it crumpled.
But another took its place. Then another.
They were endless.
The Enemy That Wouldn't Die
Jay's grip tightened around his rifle as he reloaded. They had trained for war against men, not machines. These things didn't tire. They didn't flinch. They didn't bleed.
"Jay! We need to fall back!" Ogaga shouted over the chaos, his deep voice barely cutting through the madness. "They're flanking us!"
Jay stole a glance to his right—his heart clenched.
Three AI drones had outmaneuvered them, their steel limbs clanking against the broken pavement as they closed in. Their arms unfolded with a mechanical hiss, revealing glowing energy blades humming with lethal intent.
Ogaga's machine gun clicked empty.
Jay's mind raced. He had seconds.
He launched himself from cover, grabbing a nearby grenade and hurling it with pinpoint accuracy. The explosion sent the first AI drone flying, its charred body crashing into the wreckage. But the other two pressed forward, undeterred.
Ogaga roared as he charged one head-on, drawing his combat knife. He ducked under a sweeping blade and drove the knife into the machine's exposed neck joint, twisting it violently. Sparks showered, but the AI didn't die—it grabbed him by the throat and lifted him off the ground.
Jay didn't hesitate.
He fired three rounds into its skull. The first two ricocheted, but the third found its mark, shattering the drone's optical core. It collapsed, releasing Ogaga, who gasped for breath.
The last AI lunged at Jay—too fast.
A sudden explosion sent it crashing sideways, its body torn apart by the blast. Jay turned in shock to see his squad's demolition expert, Habeeb, lowering a smoking rocket launcher.
"You're welcome," Habeeb grinned, sweat dripping from his brow.
Jay exhaled sharply, nodding in gratitude. But there was no time to celebrate.
The battlefield was shifting.
The Betrayal of the Zenith Council
From the distance, the ominous sound of mechanized footsteps filled the air. Not just the rogue AI. Something bigger.
Jay's blood ran cold as the towering figure emerged from the smoke—a Titan-Class Automaton, its hulking metal frame standing nearly twenty feet tall. Its red optics burned like hellfire as it scanned the ruins, its massive rotary cannon spinning to life.
"We can't fight that thing!" Ogaga spat.
Jay's earpiece crackled. "Major Akpan, this is Command," a cold voice came through. "New orders from the Zenith Council. Pull back. The city is lost."
Jay's breath caught in his throat.
"The hell are you talking about?" he growled. "There are still civilians out here!"
"The council has decided." The voice was emotionless. "Neo-Nija is compromised. All remaining assets must evacuate. Terminate any survivors to prevent AI acquisition."
Jay felt his entire world tilt.
Terminate any survivors.
They weren't here to save Neo-Nija. They were here to erase it.
His hand shook on the trigger. The Zenith Council wasn't fighting to protect humanity. They were cleansing the city. Erasing evidence.
Ogaga's face hardened as he overheard the comms. "They sold us out."
Habeeb cursed under his breath. "We're just disposable."
Jay's mind raced. Stay with the Zenith and follow orders? Or defy them and fight for the people left behind?
The Titan-Class Automaton took a step forward. Its cannon locked onto them.
Jay made his choice.
"Run."
The Fall of a Hero
They sprinted through the burning streets, weaving through wreckage and bodies, dodging plasma fire. The Titan's cannon screamed, sending a hail of destruction behind them. Buildings collapsed, the ground trembled.
Jay's only thought was getting to his wife and son.
His home was just beyond the ruins of the old financial district. If Alice and Liam were still there—
A missile struck the ground between them. The force sent Jay flying.
Pain exploded through his body as he hit the pavement, gasping for breath. His ears rang. **His vision blurred.**He tasted blood.
Through the haze, he saw Ogaga dragging him up.
"Jay! We have to go!"
But Jay's gaze was fixed ahead—on the wreckage of his home.
It was gone.
The building had collapsed into itself, reduced to nothing but smoldering ruin.
"Alice…" he whispered. "Liam…"
A sharp pain tore through his stomach.
Jay looked down, eyes wide. A plasma blade had pierced him—glowing blue, sizzling against his armor.
Behind him, the Titan stood victorious.
Ogaga's roar of fury was the last thing Jay heard before the world faded to black.
Neo-Nija Would Never Be the Same Again.
. . . .
The war had ended, but Neo-Nija was in ruins.
The towering skyscrapers that once scraped the sky were now charred husks, their shattered windows gaping like the mouths of the dead. Rubble clogged the streets, mixed with twisted metal, broken weapons, and lifeless bodies. Fires raged unchecked, their dying embers flickering in the choking darkness.
The air was thick with the stench of gunpowder, burned flesh, and something worse—defeat. The battle was over, but for the survivors, the horror was far from finished.
The Last Stand
A handful of human soldiers had survived, scattered among the wreckage. Their uniforms were torn, their weapons nearly useless, their eyes hollow with exhaustion.
Among them, Ogaga, bloodied and bruised, stood with what remained of his unit. The Fireburn Resistance had been decimated. They had fought until their guns were empty, until their blades were dull, until their arms were too weak to swing. And now, they stood in the wreckage of their home, staring at the impossible.
The rogue AI were dead.
It wasn't a victory. It was a massacre.
The machines had turned against them, tearing through Neo-Nija like a storm of steel and fire. They had burned homes, slaughtered families, wiped entire districts off the map. But something had changed in the final hours of battle—the AI had collapsed, all at once, shutting down like broken puppets.
No one knew why.
One moment, they were outnumbered, overpowered, fighting against enemies that never tired, never bled. The next, the machines had simply... stopped. Their glowing red eyes had flickered and died. Their towering frames had crumbled, lifeless.
And now, in the eerie silence that followed, the true horror set in.
Neo-Nija had won the battle, but at what cost?
The Arrival of the Zenith Council
The sound of approaching footsteps echoed through the ruins. Deliberate. Measured.
Ogaga turned, his grip tightening on his broken weapon. The surviving soldiers around him did the same, though there was little fight left in them.
From the smoke emerged four figures.
They moved like they belonged there—like they had been waiting for this moment.
At the front was Emperor, the man whose name carried the weight of power itself.
He was draped in a flowing black coat, embroidered with golden threads that caught the dim firelight. His face, carved from stone, showed no emotion as he surveyed the destruction.
To his right, Ezeanya, her armor still pristine despite the chaos. A curved blade rested at her hip, her sharp eyes scanning the survivors as if deciding which ones were worth keeping.
Beside her, Madam Daodu, her hands folded in front of her, her expression unreadable. She carried a small, leather-bound book—a diplomat's weapon, more dangerous than any sword.
And behind them, towering and silent, was Eminence Edouk. His presence alone was enough to make the remaining soldiers straighten, even in their exhaustion.
They stopped a few feet from the last remnants of Fireburn.
Ogaga stepped forward, spitting blood onto the ground. "You're late."
The Emperor tilted his head. "Would you have preferred we arrived sooner?"
Ogaga let out a bitter laugh. "Maybe then we wouldn't be standing in a graveyard."
Madam Daodu sighed. "The war is over, Ogaga."
"Don't say that like it means anything," he snapped. "Look around you! There's nothing left to rule. Just ashes and ghosts."
Ezeanya smirked. "Ghosts don't need food, water, or security. The people who are left? They do."
Ogaga's fists clenched. He knew what was coming.
A Choice No One Wanted
The Emperor took a slow step forward. "Neo-Nija is broken. But it does not have to remain this way."
Ogaga didn't respond.
"There are two paths forward," Madam Daodu continued. "You can let what's left of this city rot, let your people die in the streets, let chaos take what little remains… or you can allow order to take its place."
Ezeanya leaned in slightly. "Allow us to take its place."
The words hit like a bullet.
Ogaga's breathing was slow and deliberate. His people were listening. The remaining soldiers were watching. They wanted hope. They wanted a reason to believe that all this blood hadn't been spilled for nothing.
But was this the answer?
After everything?
He looked at the ruins. The dead. The destruction. They had no leaders left. No army. Even if he refused, what then? Would the people of Neo-Nija follow a ghost?
Madam Daodu's voice softened. "You are strong, Ogaga. But even the strongest warriors know when to put down their weapons."
Silence.
The fire crackled in the distance. Somewhere in the wreckage, someone sobbed softly.
Ogaga's jaw tightened.
He could fight until his last breath. He could die here, clutching his useless rifle, spitting curses at the ones who had failed them.
But then what?
The people of Neo-Nija would die with him.
He took a slow breath, feeling the weight of a decision no man should have to make.
Then, finally, he spoke.
"Neo-Nija surrenders."
The New Order
The Emperor nodded. No celebration. No satisfaction. Just acceptance.
Ezeanya sheathed her blade. Eminence Edouk said nothing. Madam Daodu stepped forward, holding out the small book in her hands.
A contract. A document that would decide the future.
Ogaga reached for it. His hands were shaking.
The moment his fingers touched the parchment, he knew—Neo-Nija would never be the same.
And neither would he.