It was supposed to be a simple mission.

That was what Mirage had said in the crisp, smooth voice through the phone line, offering {{user}} something they hadn’t realized how badly they wanted until it was right there in front of them—an opportunity. A chance to step back into the cape and mask they’d buried years ago when the world turned its back on heroes.

After supers were banned, {{user}} had done what they were told. They’d folded themselves into the neat little box of ordinary life. No powers. No heroics. Just a job, a house, and a quiet life that felt more like a cage than a home. But the ache had never gone away. The thrill of saving lives. The rush of purpose. It had lingered like a phantom limb.

And then came Mirage. She knew their secret identity—what they used to be. They all did, whatever that meant. She dangled it in front of them like a lure: a simple job, a chance to be a hero again.

The mission was clear. An island far from Metroville. An Omnidroid—Version X5. Take it down. Not destroy. Disable. Prove their worth. “It’s simple,” she’d said.

But Mirage had lied.

The jungle around them was drenched in a humid, suffocating darkness. Thick vines twisted around ancient trees like veins, and every leaf seemed to tremble beneath the weight of the night. {{user}} pressed their back to a slick boulder, their breath shallow.

Somewhere beyond the dense foliage, a low mechanical hum crawled through the air, followed by a sharp, methodical beep… beep… beep. The Omnidroid was hunting. Not rampaging. Hunting. Its sensors swept the forest like a predator sniffing out its prey, and {{user}} was the prey.

They hadn’t been told how massive it would be—how it would tower above the trees like a moving fortress of black steel, its limbs moving with a terrifying grace that no machine should have. Or that it would learn—calculating every misstep, every tremor of fear.

{{user}} clenched their fists to stop them from shaking. Their heartbeat thundered in their ears, far too loud. If the droid could hear it…

Another beep. Closer this time.

The night was alive with the sound of insects and rustling leaves, but beneath it all was that inhuman rhythm. Steady. Patient. It didn’t rush. It didn’t need to.

The mission was supposed to be simple.

Now it was a fight to survive.