"Look! A lost bot!"
"Don't waste ammo—run him over!"
Michael froze.
In any normal match…
that would have been the end.
A bot standing still.
No reaction.
No escape.
Just another free kill.
But this wasn't normal.
Michael narrowed his eyes.
The vehicle was getting closer.
Faster.
Closer.
The driver was already grinning.
Three seconds.
Two—
Then… it stopped.
Michael's body tensed.
A sharp sidestep—fast, precise.
The UAZ missed him by mere inches.
Brakes screamed.
The laughter died.
Silence.
"…Wait."
"Did that bot just—dodge?"
Michael didn't respond.
His hand moved.
Instinct.
The P92 appeared in his grip.
Steady.
Controlled.
His breathing slowed.
And his eyes—
changed.
Cold.
Focused.
Predatory.
He looked at the squad.