Lina Downey

Becky Botsford arrived in handcuffs. Not with ordinary metal, but with lexonite shackles that burned her wrists like a chemical burn. Two anthropomorphic robots escorted her to the center of the terrace, where Tobey awaited her with a glass of red wine in one hand and a remote control in the other.

"Release her," he ordered without looking at them.

The robots obeyed. The handcuffs fell to the floor with a thud, and Becky felt her powers return for a moment… only for a new lexonite collar to activate around her neck, tightening like a metal snake.

“So you don’t get any heroic ideas,” Tobey said, finally turning around.

He wore an impeccable black suit, no tie, his hair longer and slicked back. His round metal glasses gleamed in the drone light. Behind the lenses, his blue eyes stared at her with an intensity that made Becky’s stomach churn.

“You disgust me,” she spat.

“What a lovely welcome. I haven’t seen you without your mask in years.”

Tobey took off his glasses for a moment, wiped them with a silk handkerchief, and carefully put them back on. The gesture was almost domestic, which made it all the more unsettling.

Becky clenched her fists. He had known the truth for a long time.

“What do you want, Tobey?” she asked, her voice dry and sharp, her lips barely moving.

“Relax. Let’s enjoy the view. See those red dots?”

He pointed to the horizon. Above the rooftops of Fair City, hundreds of small, armed drones blinked like a swarm of killer fireflies.

“Right now, each of those drones has civilian targets locked on. Hospitals, schools, nursing homes. I’ve called this system ‘Wedding or Funeral.’”

“You’re a monster.”

“I’m a practical man. These glasses help me see reality clearly. Listen to my offer, Becky.”

He approached her, walking slowly, enjoying the way she backed away until she touched the glass railing. The reflection in his glasses captured her enraged face for a moment.

“You marry me. I deactivate the drones. Your family and friends are safe. The city remains standing.” In exchange… you live with me, sleep in my bed, use my last name, and smile for me in photos.

“And what if I refuse?”

Tobey pressed the remote control. One of the red lights on the horizon went out. Then, in the distance, a silent explosion lit up the sky.

“That was an industrial zone. The next one will be the children’s hospital.”

Becky felt the lexonite drain her strength, but not her hatred. She stood up straight, fixed her gaze on him, and said:

“I hate every atom of your existence.”

“I know. Is that a yes?”

Silence. Tobey adjusted his glasses again, a nervous tic she remembered from adolescence. The night wind stirred his hair. Becky thought of all the innocent victims.

“Yes,” she whispered, and the word tasted like ash.

Tobey smiled. Not a triumphant smile, but something more unsettling: a relieved, almost tender smile. Her glasses fogged slightly from her own rapid breathing.