AARON She pointed at their table. I stood and walked over. On the screen was a live social media feed. A red-haired woman filled the frame, her face round, her eyes warm. She spoke into the front camera while giving a tour of the convention center’s main space. Children ran around behind her, chasing balls. Groups of people worked together, setting up tents and kitchens. Everything looked calm. Safe. Part of me wanted it to be real more than anything else. But all I could see was Miriam’s face stretched over someone else’s body. My vision narrowed. The noise faded. The woman on the screen was the only thing left. Then Heather snapped her head to the side, sharp and sudden, and the sound pulled me back into the moment.A slow breath forced its way out of my chest. “I wouldn’t go there,” I said, barely managing the words. She frowned. Everyone at the table turned to look at me. “What are you talking about?” she asked. Sweat had broken out across my forehead. A hand wiped at it without thinking. My phone came out of my pocket. The social feed opened, fingers moving fast as muscle memory took over. Miriam’s live stream appeared. She was still talking. More people now filled the background. The crowd had grown. The phone was passed across the table. The woman took it and stared at the screen. “What are we looking at?” she asked. “That’s Miriam,” I said. “At least it’s supposed to be her. She’s one of the leaders of our church.” The word slipped out before I could stop it. Not stake. Church. “We listened to her. We went there because we thought it would be safe. It wasn’t.”Steps carried me backward. The chair caught the backs of my legs and I sat. Better sense should have stopped us. The Outer Vehicle Court had been packed beyond capacity. Yet every video we had seen before arriving showed only a handful of people. No one stood outside directing traffic. No security. That alone should have been enough to turn around. Then the family ahead of us arrived. The mother came running back out. What happened next still twisted my stomach. There was no clean way to say it. No sane way. “A machine came out of the main doors,” I said. “It jumped on her. It broke her neck.” Silence followed. Thick and heavy. The woman shook her head and waved a hand like she could brush the words away. “You’re making this shit up,” she snapped. “What the hell is wrong with you?” Faces around the table hardened. The welcome I felt earlier was gone. Marcus Hale stared at me from across the table, jaw tight. Elliot shook his head slightly, eyes dark. Nathan did not look away. His eyes were wide. His skin looked drained of color, pale under a thin layer of sweat. The look on his face mirrored what I felt inside. We locked eyes. No words passed between us, but understanding did. Whatever he had seen, it matched mine. Others followed my gaze to him. Elliot reached out and placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder. Nathan flinched, then shook his head like he was clearing something away. His focus returned to me. “What color was it?” he asked. “Colors,” I said right away. “Dark gray and white plating. Black synthetic muscle underneath. Opaque black face plate.” Nathan nodded once. He turned to the woman and her group. “I wouldn’t go into that convention center,” he said. “Not without checking it first.” She threw her hands into the air. “Why should we believe either of you?” Elliot tilted his head. “Nathan, what happened?” Nathan stared down at the table. His fingers twisted a napkin into knots. “I told you things got bad at Andrews Air Force Base,” he said quietly. Marcus stepped closer and dropped into the chair beside me. “Those machines were there?” Nathan nodded. “Waves of them. The only reason I’m still breathing is because they only cared about the Air Force One hangar and Command and Control.” “Why didn’t you tell us?” Elliot asked. Nathan let out a bitter laugh. “Why would you have believed me any more than you believed him?” He gestured toward me. “It sounds insane.” The woman shook her head again. Refusal burned in her eyes. “You’re both breaking under pressure,” she said. “You can’t accept that people are awful and responsible for this, so you invent robots to cope.” Nathan’s voice stayed flat. Cold. “I watched one rip an armored hatch off a security vehicle and use it to smash a Titan Combat Unit open just to reach the pilot.” Tears slid down the woman’s face before she could stop them. She wiped at them fast and looked at me. “Where are you going?” The question caught me off guard. Still, an answer came. “My wife’s parents live in Highland State. We’re heading there.” She nodded slowly. “I don’t have anywhere else,” she said. “No family. No Mobile Hauler to hide in.” Her hand motioned to the others beside her. “If we don’t go to the convention center, then where do we go?”