LIGHTNOVELSTORY Chapter 19: The choice.
September 2184. Bunker 00. Cafeteria.
After hearing Jason's words, the group gathered in the old, unused cafeteria. It wasn't far from the command room and was large enough to fit everyone. His message had shaken them all deeply, yet uncertainty still lingered—could these two groups really coexist again?
Martin stood in the center, while quiet conversations buzzed between the members of each faction. Finally, he spoke, cutting through the low murmurs. "I think it's time we speak our minds. We don't have the luxury of time."
The room fell silent, and all eyes turned to the leaders. They exchanged glances before focusing on Martin.
"What are your thoughts on this?" someone asked him. Martin was always practical, his opinions were valued in times like this.
"My thoughts?" He paused, his voice cold. "I think it's in our best interest to help them get settled. We don't have a choice."
The others listened, their optics shifting towards V and the combat drones behind her.
"What do you think, V?" Martin asked.
V's expression was troubled. The images of the Automatons and the devastation they had caused to humans weighed heavily on her mind. "I think… we should help them," she said quietly. "They've suffered just as much as we have." Her voice trembled with sadness, the horrors they had witnessed still fresh.
One of the combat drones stepped forward, his voice gruff. "I agree with her. I don't like the Super Earth Government, but what choice do we have? If they die, we die."
Others around him murmured in agreement, though a few remained unconvinced, hesitant to fully commit.
Across the room, N stood, his optics reflecting the same sadness as V's. "I agree with her," he said. "They've suffered as much as we have. You saw those images, that video… we need to move past our distrust and anger."
N was known for his empathy, even in this dead cold world. Out of all of them, he had the softest heart.
"Anyone else?" Martin asked.
The worker and combat drones exchanged glances.
"I say we give them a chance," one drone spoke up. "As Jason said, this won't be easy. Some of his men will see us as just machines. But… we need to show them we're not like those monsters. Most of us once served alongside humans."
Khan, one of the oldest worker drones, stepped forward. He had been on Copper 9 when humans still lived there, helping with construction before the bombings. He had seen how, even during the darkest times, humans had done what they could to help drones survive.
"Martin," Khan continued, "you should go back and tell Jason what we've decided. As for the rest of you, get word out to all outposts and colonies—let them know what's happening."
The decision was clear now: they needed each other to survive. None of the drones wanted to relive the horrors of the past. Memories of those days came flooding back—the last human who had stayed with them until the bitter end, a reminder that not all of humanity had abandoned them.
2089. Bunker 00. Bunker Medical Center. Five years after the nuclear bombardment.
The bunker was cold, almost silent. Five years had passed since the nuclear bombardment, and the number of humans had dwindled until only one remained. Now, she too was about to join the others in death. Food had long run out, followed by the breakdown of the filtration system. Outside, the world was just as desolate—snow-covered ruins of cities that once thrived with life.
N stood in the filtration room, now a makeshift grave for the fallen. He gazed quietly at the makeshift graves, his heart heavy with sorrow.
"I never thought it would come to this," he whispered, the weight of the situation suffocating him.
Around him, drones—both combat and worker—stood in mourning. A female drone clutched one of the mounds of dirt, yellow, tear-like streaks trailing down her optics. The sight was devastating. One by one, the humans had died, leaving only ghosts and memories. N turned away, unable to bear the weight any longer, and headed down the corridor.
He had to see V. She had been the one he worried about most through this nightmare. As he turned the corner, Martin stood in his path.
"N… If you're looking for V, she's with the others… Tessa… She doesn't have much time left. If you want to say goodbye… you need to do it now."
Martin's voice, usually cold, carried a heavy note of sadness. N didn't wait. He broke into a run.
"No… No…" He had held onto hope that somehow Tessa would survive, that they could keep her alive a little longer. But the reality was cruel. Slowing to a stop, he reached the door of the medical center. A crowd of drones—combat and worker alike—stood gathered, their optics dimmed with grief.
"Is it true?" N asked, his voice trembling. The drones turned to look at him, their optics in various colors, all streaked with tear-like trails. They stepped aside, allowing him to pass.
The weak beeping of a heart monitor filled the air, a fragile sign of life nearing its end. N walked past the other drones, his footsteps slow and heavy. He reached the bed where Tessa lay—the last human in the bunker. V and J sat beside her, their faces somber.
"I heard Martin… Is she…"
Tessa's eyes fluttered open at the sound of his voice. She smiled weakly, her lips trembling as she tried to summon the strength.
"N…" she whispered, her voice fragile. Her eyes closed again, her strength fading.
"Tessa…" N's voice cracked into a mix of sorrow and disbelief.
"I'm happy… you're here… all of you…" she murmured, her words soft but full of warmth. Even in her final moments, she tried to comfort them. "I'm sorry it's come to this… None of this… was your fault…"
Her words were laced with kindness, despite the overwhelming darkness around them. She had done everything in her power to keep the bunker's inhabitants hopeful, even as the last human alive. But the harshness of this world had been too much for her to survive. N pulled up a chair and took her hand gently. Her eyes met his, then shifted to the others in the room.
"N, V, J… everyone…" she began, her voice growing weaker. "You… have to stay strong. Just because… we're gone… doesn't mean you can't live. Maybe… maybe one day… the others will come back… and take you away from here. Please… promise me… you'll live on…"
Her final words broke the silence in the room, and every drone present stood, optics streaked with tear-like light.
"We will… I promise," N whispered, his voice barely audible.
Tessa took one final breath. The heart monitor emitted one last beep, then turned into a long, flat tone.
"Tessa… Tessa…" N called, his voice shaking, but she was gone.
The room fell into an unbearable silence. And then the grief erupted—cries, screams, and sobs filled the air. It was the day they had all dreaded, the day they were left completely alone in a dead, lifeless world. Her death was now a bitter memory, a reminder that not all of humanity had abandoned them—but now, that last tether to their past had been severed.
Bunker 00. Command Room.
Jason stood at the center of the command room, waiting for the others to return. To his surprise, only Martin entered, his expression as cold as ever.
"We've made our decision," Martin began, his voice even. "We'll help you and your men, but only if you help maintain the peace. We'll allow you back in."
Jason walked toward him, extending his hand. Martin eyed it for a moment before grasping it firmly and giving it a hard shake.
"I'll do everything I can," Jason replied, his tone resolute. "Like you said, this is about survival. If we want to make it, we have to work together. I'll speak to my men soon."
Martin released his hand, his face still emotionless.
"I hope this is the right call," Martin said, his voice low. "I'm heading to my office to start reaching out. We've got outposts and colonies scattered all over, and contacting them will take time. The others are already getting back to work in their areas."
Jason nodded. "I've got something I need to handle myself—the body of the creature you call the Steel Terror arrived last night."
Martin's expression remained neutral, but there was a flicker of discomfort. "And you're sure it's dead?"
Jason's eyes were serious. "It's dead, no doubt. But we need to study it while we can. Once things start moving here, we won't have much time for anything else."
Both men stood silent for a moment. This day marked a turning point, a fragile step forward in an alliance built on necessity. But the question lingered in the air—would this uneasy peace last long enough to mean anything?
The future was uncertain, but for now, survival was all that mattered.
Edited thanks to ELE73CH.