Cutlery district, Sector B2, Gasteiz. Another day in the Automated Communities.
Some feel a familiar tingling in their guts; others grip tightly whatever they’re holding. Some sweat. Several joke so they don’t have to think. Minds prepare for action and suppress fear: heartbeats drum like war drums, blood pressure rises, pupils dilate.
A faint reddish light breaks through the viscous darkness of the night. It switches off and on three times.
It is the signal.
Half a hundred grim figures burst from the tunnel like rats with knives. All of them have their faces covered by holographic hoods. On some, digital tears shimmer; on others, red or black stars, ancient lauburus or ikurri?as. There are also animal illustrations: wolves, eagles, serpents. Some carry backpacks loaded with sudantzas, electric nails, and hatred.
The STIX convoy halts: two gravity vehicles, one aerotransporter, and three cyberdrones. They weather the storm of violence descending upon them as best they can.
The attack is brutal. It lasts no more than five seconds. A rain of stones, electricity, and fire lights up the street, filling it with an intermittent, hollow, filthy sound. Then—silence and flight. The smell of ozone and destruction settles in the air like a sticky film.
Of the two armored ground vehicles, one is left disabled; it burns with no sign of movement inside. All the cyberdrones that followed the procession are now nothing but twisted heaps of plastisteel and glowing iron on the ground.
The aerotransporter rises into the sky and aims its repeating laser cannons at the fleeing attackers. The first shot tears a massive hole through one man’s back. He collapses, lifeless. The second strikes his head like an exploding fruit. No trace remains of it—or of the holographic hood that displayed a red lauburu on a black background. The pool of blood beneath the body begins to grow. It looks like an overflowing dam.
“Interference protocol,” a mechanical voice whispers.
The following shots vanish into the darkness, hitting no new targets. The acquisition systems have been blocked.
“It’s our turn now, my boy,” Mari Loli whispers again.
Erlantz and Mari Loli had witnessed the scene from a rooftop shelter in a building where they had planned to spend the night. They had detected unusual movement in the area.
The noise and flashes woke a drowsy Erlantz, who quickly grasped what was happening: an ambush on a STIX convoy in the middle of a razzia. Common in the Automated Communities—especially in the Euskal Zone. No one truly knows what happens to the people they abduct. Only that they never return.
Mari Loli jumps from the rooftop.
She falls like a metal angel.
The descent seems slow motion, as if time had abruptly frozen. The impact violently erodes the ground. Her hydraulic system groans.
But she does not stop.
“Blood smells different when it belongs to a STIX enforcer. More metallic. More false,” she growls.
As M advances toward the still-operational armored vehicle, Erlantz opens fire at the aerotransporter in heavy burst mode. Unable to select targets due to the mecha’s sabotage, the craft retreats—though not before firing chaotically, hitting nothing.
The enforcers exit the vehicle. Five of them. Empty gazes. Semi-human appearance. Artificial faces. They look as though circuits have been stitched onto their skin. They carry laser assault rifles and discharge launchers. One has a mechanical arm. They move slowly, confidently.
Mechas are rarely seen.
They do not know Mari Loli can kill—even if no weapons are manufactured for her anymore.
From cover on the rooftop, Erlantz begins firing at them, but one returns the favor.
Mari Loli’s fury ignites.
“You are not worthy of touching my boyfriend.”
M has no weapons. Only brute force.
Imitating a cyclone, she advances and strikes the first enforcer in the forearm, then slams his skull into the ground. The others fire, but the lasers ricochet off her chassis. The one with the mechanical arm hits her, denting her neck. She grabs him by the throat and snaps it with ease.
Erlantz manages to hit another in the forehead. A white synthetic fluid mixed with red blood splashes everywhere.
The fourth enforcer flees. Erlantz riddles him with shots, then descends to the street.
The fifth remains frozen.
Mari Loli watches him and speaks.
“I have no ammunition. But I still have love. And that kills more slowly.”
She does not kill him.
She lets him live so he can tell what he saw: a broken machine, armored like a lace doll, that kills for love.
It is Erlantz who finishes him at point-blank range, after the sharp buzz of a laser.
The enforcer’s two-toned blood splatters against a half-collapsed wall as if someone had thrown a bucket of poison.
“I’m sorry, M, but we can’t leave breadcrumbs for the crows.”
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The lethal duo quickly abandons the scene.
Minutes later, they hear electro-sirens in the distance and see search holograms.
The Automated Communities are on the hunt.
“Those pigs act like they own everything,” the man spits, still panting.
“The AC seem to care more about those who oppose STIX than about their supposed fellow citizens. Disgusting,” the mecha replies, her eyes shifting from pink to red.
“Obviously. They pull their own stunts when needed. Bastards, all of them. Let’s move, M. Let’s get out of here.”
“I hope the kids are safe,” Mari Loli says uneasily.
Erlantz turns briefly to look back. Columns of smoke from the attack still climb toward the sky, competing in darkness with the night.
“I hope so,” he answers, his trembling voice betraying him.
They continue in silence, disappearing easily into the dark.
Later, at last, they find rest among hidden ruins on the outskirts.
Two figures lie concealed among stones, metal, and broken debris of what appears to have once been an old church. They are sheltered from the harsh weather and bitter cold by a collapsed wall and a small overhang.
It has been a long day: infiltration, logistics, combat.
“Gasteiz is like a sieve. Easier to get into than Bilbao.” The mecha combs her false pigtails with armored fingers.
“I wouldn’t say that. We were lucky today. The mugalari said so. Nothing more.” Erlantz aches all over.
“Errekaleor isn’t far, right?”
“Exactly. Our destination is close. When we go, we’ll meet Kofi—an old friend.”
“I need to visit a techie. See if we can make space.” The robot preens coquettishly. “These dents don’t match my outfit.”
Erlantz gazes at her imposing armor in fascination.
“You fight well, M. You’re very fast.”
“When I left the factory, I was much faster.” Her pink eyes blink. “The technical diagram said I could move at 200 km/h.”
“Damn. That was two centuries ago, right?” asks the historian, intrigued.
“Yes. STIX created me two centuries ago. Then they offered me as a test prototype—alongside other mechas—to the former enemy State.” She studies his reaction. “After the Hecatomb, ultratech no longer serves me. I barely remember anything after the reconfiguration a few years ago.”
“Why did you need to run that fast? Two hundred kilometers per hour is insane. Was someone chasing you?”
“I was meant to launch myself at that speed against the first enemy line, deploying electronic countermeasures.” She pauses. “I fired precision missiles to incapacitate. They weren’t very powerful.”
“Your original specifications must have been out of this world…”
“At close range, I destroyed vehicles with my fists. Thirty kilonewtons in the legs, twenty in the arms. I could jump ten meters… that was my job. But that’s ancient history, my boy.”
“I understand.”
“Anyway, they said my strong point was the AI-CPU. Cutting-edge tech. It must be in shambles now—and it’s irreparable. No one understands it.”
“Weren’t you afraid of long-range tracking weapons?”
“Back then, long-distance warfare was inoperative because of defensive systems. There was a revival of near-trench combat.”
“Just like now.”
“Yes. But I’m not the same anymore.” She winks her pink eye, tilting her head and adjusting her hair.
“Even so, you are an immeasurable force today,” Erlantz states firmly.
START: Deep emotional reflection
SOURCE: Folder ?Flirt?
RESPONSE: Personalized
OK
“Why do you say such beautiful things? Are you trying to seduce me?” The mecha takes his hand, looking at him playfully according to her routines.
“You’re going to break my bones,” he smiles. “I say it because it’s true.”
She gently withdraws her hand from the robotic grip.
“Yeah… yeah…”
“Erlantz, I’ve seen photos of stars at night.” Mari Loli stares at the impenetrable sky, a product of the Devastation.
“It’ll be a long time before the crap clears from the atmosphere,” he says with eyes closed, lying down. “But you’ll always have photos or videos on the datapad.”
“I don’t want that. I want to see them for real. I’d love that. Some of them are shooting stars. If you make a wish, it comes true.”
“And what wish would you make?” Erlantz asks curiously.
Mari Loli looks at him. His short hair is beginning to turn gray. Receding lines mark his age. An earring in each ear, a few days’ beard. Melancholic gaze, weathered skin, serious expression. Almost always dressed in black, with a retro-punk style.
She looks back at the dead firmament.
“You are my boyfriend. And that is my wish,” she says fervently. “I don’t think I have any others. I’ll come up with one.”
“There’s something that doesn’t add up. It’s incredible that a GL1TCH-7 model can say such nonsense. Every day she surprises me with something new; she’s intriguing,” thought the armed militant of the Euskal Zone, a faint smile curving his lips.
“That thing about us being boyfriend and girlfriend—we haven’t talked about it.”
“Some things don’t need to be talked about,” she shot back, sulking.
Erlantz opened his eyes.
“Listen, M. Even though stars were visible before the Third World War, not everything is what it seems.”
“Here comes the historian, archaeologist, and know-it-all.”
“Many of the stars people saw didn’t even exist anymore. They were just light from something that had ended long ago.” The man’s face grew clouded.
“Then I want to see those lights. I want us to see them together. Make wishes and all the rest.” The synthetic sounded sad now. Erlantz watched her carefully.
“In the old sky there were voids that weren’t really voids at all. Newborn stars whose light hadn’t reached us yet. So it’s never entirely lost. I need to rest. My head hurts.”
“Oh… sleepyhead.”
“The sky isn’t going anywhere. One day we’ll see them. I promise you.”
The mecha switched into surveillance mode.
The last thing Erlantz heard before falling asleep were her gentle words, while he tried to push away the bloody image of the boy dissected by the repeating laser.
“I love you, Erlantz. It’s not in my codes—but you’re all I have left. No one will ever love you more deeply than I do.”
The mecha began softly humming the Japanese song “Lucky” by “Lucie,Too,” and looked up at the sky once more.
“You are my shining star…”
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A hundred kilometers away, in a housing unit in Sector D4 of the Arrotxapea district, the mother and the younger brother received the news: “He’s dead.” “B2.” “Kintzarra.”
Mónika let the datapad slip from her hands, dizzy. She covered her face with trembling fingers. The dull sound of it hitting the floor and her sobs were swallowed by the electrical storm raging outside.
For a few seconds, Max clenched his fist, unable to cry. A piercing cold shot through his chest and spine. He adjusted the sleeve over his missing arm, though there was nothing left to straighten. Not even a zikintech cyber-implant.
The silence between mother and son was heavy with everything left unsaid. The flickering light seeping into the room cast shadows that seemed to move in rhythm with their suffering. The world froze for them.
The automated biometric counter of housing unit 123H changed its number.
The storm punished Iru?ea like it hadn’t in years.
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Sudantza – An automatic incendiary device that replaced the Molotov cocktail after gasoline disappeared. Composed of synthetic alcohol, solid oxidizers, and polymers. Reinforced with synthetic thermite and coils. When the container—usually a glass bottle—breaks, an adaptive electronic trigger activates different variants: anti-personnel, EMP, or anti-armor.
Aerotransporter – A tactical transport designed for conflict environments; a low-altitude, short-range aerial vehicle.
Razzias – Systematic kidnapping operations carried out by STIX enforcers. Punitive operations conducted by the police and military forces of the AC bear the same name.
Devastation / Hecatomb / Collapse – The Era of Collapse and Oblivion. The condition endured in Euskal Herria following its solitary survival and global destruction. Includes the consequences of the Third World War, the subsequent technological regression, and the emergence of the disease of forgetting.
GL1TCH-7 – A high-performance mecha model. Equipped with first-grade AI-CPU systems. Common on frontline battlefields from 2300 onward and participants in the Basque Insurgency War. Technology now lost.
Techie – Technical specialists in various fields: engineering, robotics, cyber-modification, and related disciplines.
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