Okay, so tonight was not great.
We broke into Mason's dad's old study, because obviously we have no sense of self-preservation. Mason was all quiet and broody as he flipped through files, but I had a bad feeling.
Then we heard it.
A low whirring noise. Mechanical...?
Before I could even say, "Hey, maybe we should leave before something tries to murder us," it lunged.
The bot was fast. One second, we were alone, the next Mason was being choked by a metal hand.
I panicked. I grabbed the closest thing, a broken desk lamp, and smashed it against the bot's head. It sparked but didn't stop. Cool, great, we love an invincible murder machine.
Mason gasped, struggling, and I knew we were so dead.
Then Mason did something unexpected. Despite being suffocated by a random robot that happened to be chilling behind the door, he grabbed the axe and with one final push, he swung it at the bot's neck.
The head went flying. Sparks. Metal crunching. And then, silence.
I let out a breath. "Well. That was a thing."
But before we could celebrate surviving yet another robot assassination attempt, something clattered to the floor. A tiny metal device, blinking red.
Mason stared at it. "What is that?"
I picked it up, already feeling the impending doom. "A tracker."
Mason went rigid "You're telling me some dodgy sod's been shadowing us all along?"
I nodded, feeling my stomach drop. "Yup."
As if today couldn't get worse, Mason groaned and doubled over. I turned, and saw blood. A lot of it. The bot had gotten him, and he was just now reacting.
"Mace!" I lunged toward him, but he just waved me off, pale but still trying to act like he wasn't about to pass out.
"For crying out loud, I'm fine." he muttered, before nearly collapsing.
Right. Totally fine. Just bleeding everywhere while we're being tracked by killer robots. No big deal.
We need to leave. Now.