The night was thick with rain, neon puddles reflecting the fractured glow of broken signs. Jin-hee led the team through narrow alleyways, every step measured, every shadow a shield. Min-ah stayed close, her rebar at the ready, eyes scanning for any sign of patrol bots.
"Remember," Jin-hee whispered, crouched low behind a rusted dumpster, "we're not fighting tonight. We're disrupting. A small strike, a spark. Just enough to show them we exist and to test what we've learned."
The target was a maintenance hub for patrol bots—a cluster of control units and charging stations at the edge of the industrial sector. Disabling it wouldn't destroy the robots entirely, but it would force them to reroute and give humans a brief window to move freely in this sector.
Min-ah studied the hub from a distance. "It's heavily monitored. Sensors on the corners, charging bots inside. One wrong move…"
"I know," Jin-hee said. "That's why we stick to the shadows. We move in three teams. You're with me—quiet entry. Team two creates a distraction on the south side. Team three watches for reinforcements."
The humans nodded, tension crackling through the small group like static electricity. Every step closer to the hub felt heavier, the rain slicking the streets, the neon reflections cutting through the darkness.
They slipped past a patrol bot at the edge of the street, timing their movement to the sweep of its red sensors. A small metallic clang echoed from behind, and one of the humans froze. Jin-hee gestured sharply to move, and they adjusted their path, pressing closer to the walls.
At the hub, Jin-hee signaled Team Two. A series of small explosions—scrap metal, flammable trash—ignited on the south side, drawing the attention of two charging bots. Sparks flew, alarms beeped faintly, and red sensor lights swiveled toward the noise.
"Now," Jin-hee whispered. He led Min-ah and three others into the hub, sticking low, moving between crates of machinery and coils of wiring. The charging bots inside were dormant, glowing softly in dim blue light. Jin-hee knelt beside a control panel, fingers working quickly to disable it.
Min-ah watched the entrance, heart pounding, as the hum of machines grew louder outside. One bot turned toward the hub's side door—just a patrol passing by—and she ducked behind a crate, holding her breath.
"Got it!" Jin-hee hissed after a tense few seconds. Sparks erupted from the panel as circuits shorted. Red lights on the bots outside flickered and died. For a brief moment, silence fell over the street.
"Go!" Jin-hee shouted. They sprinted back the way they came, shadows stretching and merging with the dark alleys. Team Two met them halfway, nodding grimly as they joined the retreat.
Behind them, the hub sparked and whined, a mechanical scream of dying circuits. Patrol bots scrambled, their red sensors frantic and confused, but by the time they recovered, the humans were gone—already slipping back into the safety of the warehouse.
Inside, breaths came in short, fast bursts. The humans set down the small haul of tech they had recovered—components that could be used for weapons, shields, or sabotage. Jin-hee surveyed the group, pride and caution mixing in his gaze.
"This," he said, voice low but resolute, "is how we take the first step. One strike, one spark, one reminder that we're still here. Every disruption we cause weakens them, teaches us, and strengthens us. But we need to remember—tonight was just a spark. The fire is coming."