Murder Drones Serial Designation N Novels & Stories

The drones had been stored in a climate-controlled compartment in the bunker's armory, their sleek carbon-fiber bodies gleaming under the dim lights. Clara had purchased them months ago, anticipating the need for aerial surveillance in a world where satellites would eventually fail and ground-based cameras would be limited by terrain and weather. She had chosen military-grade models, equipped with thermal imaging, high-definition cameras, and long-range communication systems. They were her eyes in the sky, and she intended to use them.

"I told it that Mother is the threat to the system's longevity. Now we wait to see if it believes the lie." The front door groaned as the hinges began to melt, sparks flying into the room like dying stars. Through the smoke, a silhouette stepped in—not a security guard, but a drone, hovering silently, its red optical sensor spinning in the dark. It didn't aim at them. It turned toward the hallway, its weapon systems locking onto the incoming security team. "It works," Pim whispered, her heart hammering against her ribs. "It’s defending the server." "It's not defending us," Chalida noted, backing away as the drone fired a volley of suppressing fire into the hallway. The screams of the guards

’ ‘So you are saying,’ started the sub-inspector disbelievingly, ‘Mr Dhruv went out from that door, ran all the way around the house to Esha’s room and murdered her?’ ‘I am not saying anything, Navpreet. And the kind of influence Mr Dhruv has, he wouldn’t involve himself in a murder. He would rather hire someone to do that for him.’ ‘You are confusing me, sir,’ said the sub-inspector irritably. ‘Many cases have been closed with lesser evidence than what we have here.’ ‘Wrongly closed,’ added the inspector seriously. ‘Fine, give me one logical explanation how that sweater went to Anubhav’s room.’

​The Ghost in the Mountain ​As they began their approach through the Gray Zone, the first wave of drones arrived. These weren't the "Harvest" scouts from the desert; they were "Executioner" class, heavy, spider-like machines that crawled across the gravel on multi-jointed legs, their twin-linked pulse cannons tracking the movement of the pack. ​"Scatter!" Leo roared.

The gangs went silent, their eyes once locked against each other were now fixed on the hovering machines above them. “8 seconds to comply.” Their stupor was broken, both sides fired on the drones, unleashing a tirade of gunfire on the machines. “7 seconds to comply.” The drones flew higher, dodging bullets and plasma. “6 seconds to comply.” Ymir caught sight of a single bulk in the distance. It was flying above Moreno Avenue. It was a mass of grey metal, shaped like shark of sorts. On its front were two lights, blue and red. They blinked furiously, blinding Ymir for a moment.

Then he hefts the greatsword, plants himself at the VIP entrance, and addresses every guard trying to approach with a single word that rolls from his throat like a rockslide. *Fuck off.* Behind him, Dorian's drone swarm is already airborne. Twelve folding-wing units deployed from the metal case. Stark white searchlights rake wildly across my seat. A single micro-drone breaks formation and hovers right above my nape, its sensor blinking an abnormal red. Dorian stares at the control panel, fingers typing a command. He deletes it. Types again. Deletes it. On the third attempt he enters: *Target locked. Continuous sampling. Set to highest priority.*

It's you! Raymond looked lazily at the two people who were now arguing, causing him to question their backgrounds again. The way they fight, the tone they speak every time they argue, and the almost unison each time, they really looked like twins. Even though they are ten years apart. He walked over to the stack of drones, took one of the drones. The first was equipped with a program that could improve the security system—which Edward had previously tested and succeeded in developing so that they could fly and take out eight feet on landing. Their movements were like spiders. But the second type he was holding, had a round shape, was the size of a palm, and all white. According to Hazel's ex

He eventually got tired and let her be. Most of the cars had tinted windows on and Grace was starting to wonder how she would be able to sight either of Veronica's parents if she couldn't even see through the window but just as if the universe were listening to her dilemma, the answer served itself on a platter. A black Lexus started pulling in but it was the name inscribed on the plate number that caught Grace's attention; BADMUS. "Oh my God, it's them!" She screamed as she jumped to her feet and started hitting the windows frantically, forcing the driver to slow down and wind down his window on his side of the car.

Dax asked over the comms, his voice calm despite the sirens wailing around us. "Always," I replied. We tore down the main strip of Neo-Vegas, weaving through crashing cars and rioting crowds. Behind us, a squadron of Hunter-Killer Drones emerged from the Queen’s tower. They were sleek, black, and armed with heat-seeking missiles. "They're locking on!" I warned, checking the Sovereign’s rear-view display. "Split up!" Dax commanded. "Meet at the old airfield!" He banked hard to the left, heading into the industrial district. The drones split, half following him, half following me.

"I want you." "You might not have a choice," Silas interjects. He slides a paper across the table. "This came down the wire at 4:00 AM. Issued by the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives." I pick it up. It’s a warrant. Name: Drakon Vasilios. Charges: Grand Larceny (Military Grade Weaponry), Domestic Terrorism, Murder of a Federal Agent. "Murder?" I read. "Agent Miller?"