Romans & histoires Orb Drone Ball

There you have it—way better than this, and that's a no-brainer. I grab a brown parcel—technically a box—containing the drone I'd ordered from China a few days back. It cost an arm, almost a leg too, given it's small, noiseless, has a polymer disk coated with infrared‑absorbing film, micro magnetic strips to cling to metallic camera rims. Basically, in normal‑people English: the disk doesn’t block the camera completely. It creates a glare that looks like a natural malfunction—like: solar bloom sensor degradation

Rain held back, screwing the lid back on the water and waiting to hear what Mist had to say before she let herself panic. “Drones,” Mist replied on a loud exhale. “They’re heat seeking drones, so they don’t just rely on visual location finders, but they’ll also pick up any animal over a hundred pounds.” “Dang, I knew I shouldn’t have had that second meat stick this morning,” Walt joked.

I didn't like the feeling it gave me. Then—a faint, mechanical whirring sound. Dorian stiffened. My eyes darted to the grimy window, barely catching the glint of something hovering outside. A drone. My breath hitched as I stared at it. It was small, sleek, and eerily silent, its camera lens reflecting the dim light inside the room. I couldn't believe this people would go to the length they had. Thankfully, Dorian moved fast. He grabbed a knife from his boot and hurled it with lethal precision. The blade sliced through the air and struck the drone’s body, sending it spinning before it crashed to the ground with a sharp crack.

a voice said behind him. ​Leo didn't turn around. He knew the gait of the girl approaching. It was Maya, one of the first "Candidates" his parents had brought back from Brazil years ago. She was the only person who could keep up with his pace. ​"He’s not late," Leo replied, checking his watch. "He’s calculating the optimal time to enter the airspace without triggering the new radar Lyra installed." ​A low hum vibrated through the air. A sleek, silver drone—far more advanced than anything on the commercial market—swooped over the parapet and landed perfectly on the helipad. A moment later, a boy vaulted over the side of the maintenance ladder.

I didn't like the feeling it gave me. Then—a faint, mechanical whirring sound. Dorian stiffened. My eyes darted to the grimy window, barely catching the glint of something hovering outside. A drone. My breath hitched as I stared at it. It was small, sleek, and eerily silent, its camera lens reflecting the dim light inside the room. I couldn't believe this people would go to the length they had. Thankfully, Dorian moved fast. He grabbed a knife from his boot and hurled it with lethal precision. The blade sliced through the air and struck the drone’s body, sending it spinning before it crashed to the ground with a sharp crack.

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.*

Suddenly, a red circle appeared on the ground around us. **[WARNING: UNAUTHORIZED ANALOG DATA DETECTED]** **[SECURITY ADVISORY: PROPERTY OF AETHEL-GROUP]** "The drone!" Selene pointed to the sky. A massive, sleek silver craft was descending toward us. It wasn't a bird this time. It was a spear of chrome with a glowing red eye. "Return the assets to the bin," a cold, feminine voice announced from the drone. "Value must be reclaimed." "I'm not going back in the bin!" Rowan roared.

"Get the eyes in the air." Giordano nodded, pulling out a sleek, matte-black micro-drone. It was no bigger than his palm, fitted with specialized, sub-zero rotors designed to withstand the freeze. He launched it into the air, and the tiny machine vanished instantly into the white storm, completely invisible to the naked eye. Giordano snapped down the digital visor attached to his helmet. His thumbs moved rapidly over a handheld controller. "Uplink is stable," he gritted out, his voice shaking slightly from the sheer cold. "Feeding the thermal data to your HUD now, Victoria."

I can’t hide my disappointment, I was hoping he or someone else saw Niki. “What did you find out?” Owen brings the drone down. Unlike the last time I saw it, the red body looks very clean and polished. I pick it up and study it closely. Niki 401 is written in tiny white letters at the bottom. The drone is a real representation of its manufacture. Portable, effective and vicious when provoked. “I banged another Davi maid yesterday,” Owen says proudly. “I would have thought you would shy away from those, but proceed.” “No one knows where Niki is, not even Nick,”he says and my heart sinks.