Gunfire tore through the ruined factory complex, echoing off rusted steel and scorched concrete. Sparks rained from Ada’s frame as a barrage of bullets slammed into her armor plating, sending shards of metal clattering to the ground. Her sensors flared with warnings—multiple hostiles, encircling fast.

The Rust Devils were relentless. Twisted scavengers in jury-rigged power armor, laughing through their voice modulators as they closed in with flamers, buzzsaws, and crude rocket launchers strapped to their backs.

“Priority target acquired,” one of them growled through a helmet speaker, its tone laced with static and malice. “Bag the bot in pieces.”

Ada pivoted sharply, her servo-joints whirring as her arm-mounted Gatling laser roared to life, sweeping across the flank. A trio of Rust Devils fell in smoking heaps—but more surged forward, undeterred.

An explosive round struck her shoulder, blowing apart one of her weapon mounts in a burst of flame. Ada staggered, one leg damaged, movement impaired. Sparks flew from exposed wiring as another Rust Devil leapt onto her, slamming a sawblade into her chassis with a shriek of tearing metal.

Despite the damage, Ada's voice remained steady, her optical sensors locking onto the attackers with unwavering focus.

“Defensive systems... compromised. Threat level—critical. Recalibrating engagement strategy.” Even as her systems faltered, her hydraulic fists crashed into another enemy, crushing the Raider’s helmet like tinfoil.

But the numbers were against her. From every angle, the Rust Devils swarmed, dragging her down bit by bit.

Smoke, sparks, and screeches of twisting metal filled the air. But still, Ada fought on—one strike, one calculation, one line of defense away from shutdown.