Zeros focused.
Quantum modules began to hum, low and deep,
so much that the air above the rooftop started to vibrate,
and dust on the concrete danced like a microscopic orgy of particles.
Inside his skull, several trillion computational operations burned through.
All possible scenarios.
All probabilities.
All data points this world had not yet managed to hide.
Within a fraction of a second, the answer surfaced:
Bob Hutch, son of the CEO of Macrohard™,
an idiot whose balls were firmly registered in the “failed heir” sector,
had decided that Blindy had caused too much damage to the corporation.
And to his future inheritance.
So he kidnapped him.
Zeros grunted.
“Hm… how boring,” he verbally thought.
“I was expecting something epic. Fine.
Let’s pull his ass out.
If possible, without total destruction,
so those corporate assholes don’t keep chasing him.”
He stepped forward,
and space responded with a dull, irritated groan.
In his palm, a small, neat, almost harmless-looking wormhole formed.
He jumped. And the wormhole decided: “Yeah, fuck all of that.”
It expanded like a balloon being blown in the wrong direction.
Along with him, it sucked in:
Blindy’s house,
a dozen slum container-homes from sector WC,
and dozens of degenerates who were just minding their own business.
One of them managed to shout:
“HEY! I JUST TOOK MY BEER OUT—”
And vanished, as if erased with an eraser.
The vortex snapped shut,
leaving behind a perfectly round hole in the city layout.
It looked like someone had torn a piece of reality out with their fingers.
Blindy sat in a prison cell and looked like life hadn’t beaten him with fists, but with meteors.
Bloody nose.
Purple eye.
The smell of regret and hopelessness.
Around him, hundreds of prisoners.
Some were crying, some panicking, some had already accepted dying in Macrohard™’s corporate slaughterhouse.
The guards stood with the kind of faces that suggested they were already taking bets on who would die first.
And then—
space above them tore open,
and out of it came:
Zeros,
Blindy’s house,
a dozen slum containers,
and something like molecular mush made of just as many worthless idiots who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Zeros stepped out of the tunnel like he had just come to buy shawarma.
No emotion. No drama.
Just exhaustion from the stupidity of the universe.
He walked across the hall.
Everyone stared.
Weapons trembled in the guards’ hands,
more like they were deciding whether to shoot themselves
if this deranged android decided to go wild.
One of the guards had already pressed the barrel to his temple, but Zeros stopped him with a look.
He said coldly, pointing at Blindy.
“I’ll take this one.”
Bob Hutch, son of the CEO of Macrohard™, well-fed, groomed, self-satisfied, with a haircut that screamed “I’m the heir, I get what I want”, crossed his arms and smirked:
“You mean that sack of useless meat?”
Blindy perked up.
Wiped the blood off his face with the back of his hand.
“Metal dick… you came for me?..”
Zeros shot him a killing look:
“No.
I just wanted to see how stupid you look behind bars.
Mission accomplished.”
Blindy muttered under his breath.
Bob laughed.
“He’s nothing special. Street rat, thief, loser. Zero. Why should I let him go?”
Zeros shrugged so lazily it felt like an insult.
“Oh, I don’t know…
maybe because he’s the long-lost bastard son…”
Pause. Everything froze.
“…of Johann “Johnny” Rockefeeller VIII™.”
Blindy froze.
“…WHAT?!”
Bob froze.
“…What?!”
The entire room, in unison:
“WHAT THE FUCK?!”
Whispers. Panic.
A second ago it had been a routine corporate execution.
Now it was a political catastrophe on a galactic scale.
Bob narrowed his eyes:
“That’s a bold claim, droid.
I know that old bastard.
He’s got two daughters. No son.”
Zeros tilted his head:
“Exactly.
That’s why this little shit was kept a secret.Hidden. To avoid… scandal.
Well… you know… young Johnny… back then he was living life hard.
Slept with his mom… and, well…
you know how it goes with you meatbags…This biological accident showed up… and here we are.”
Blindy froze like a broken droid.
Opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.
Not a single thought.
Zeros let out a dramatic sigh:
“This stinking dumbass doesn’t know anything.
Poor guy grew up on the street,
thinking he was just another piece of trash.And his real father?
Rich as hell.
Powerful.Doesn’t acknowledge him publicly…
but still takes care of him.That’s why I’m here.
I was hired to look after him.
Yeah… like a fucking nanny for his sorry ass.”
Bob paused. Looked at Blindy. At Zeros. Back at Blindy.
“Yeah? Then why didn’t he come himself?”
Zeros, completely serious:
“Because he’s busy.
Running the world.
In secret.
Every day.
Humans are emotional, unreliable…
psychologically inefficient.And me?
I’m one hundred percent efficient.I’ll take him either way. But…
honestly, I don’t feel like killing all of you today.Not in the mood.”
Bob frowned.
“So… you’re still working.
I heard you were done. Retired.”
Zeros didn’t react. Didn’t even blink.
Bob said:
“Fine,
“But if you’re screwing me,
I’ll tear your ass into circuits.
And I’ll spend my father’s entire fortune doing it.”
Zeros, monotone:
“Oh no.
How terrifying.
I’m shaking in my steel frame.”
The guards dragged Blindy out.
He walked like a failed experiment, half in a trance.
The prisoners reached out to him:
“PLEASE, TAKE US WITH YOU!”
“YOU’RE RICH NOW!”
“SAVE US—”
Bob smirked, watching Blindy:
“Wanna take them all with you, rich boy?”
Zeros grabbed Blindy by the collar and dragged him toward the exit. He said indifferently:
“I’d stay and watch them all die.
But… maybe next time.”
The doors slammed shut. The screams stayed on the other side.