Romans & histoires Orb Drone Ball

I felt the need to make him a goal to achieve within this next year and try to get him to smile at least once. “Above your heads, I am sure you noticed our signature drones flying around. If you haven’t found it already, if you look under your seats, you will find a device with a button on it. Each drone is connected to a separate device. Once you press the button, the drone will track your location and land on your lap.” Alpha Hynes continued talking after the clapping stopped.

Then she nodded and picked up a small case from the bench. “Okay. Let’s talk about drones.” She opened the kit, revealing pieces — modular wings, tiny rotors, a coin - sized processor, a flexible carbon - fiber frame. “This isn’t like the toy ones from two decades ago. This one’s silent, semi - autonomous, runs on solar mesh. Designed for recon, surveillance, or resource scouting. I’ve modified the signal feed to be undetectable on standard city networks.” Aria’s eyes widened. “You built this?”

“See? I didn't touch anything.” Nevena didn't hear the last thing he said—she dashed forward and grasped him, protecting him with her own body. A mom-level defence. Above them, a disc-shaped drone the size of a dinner plate dropped down from somewhere near the treetops, rotating gently. Its lens was glossy and dark, reflecting their panicked facials. “I think it’s scanning us.” Junior whispered to Nevena. The drone hovered a moment longer. Then ascended back into the tree line with a soft hum.

A personal one. I hold my belly tightly. My baby. My little girl. “Emily, breathe,” Carlos says, kneeling beside me. “You’re okay. We’ve got you.” And then… a sound. Whirrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. Everyone turns toward the sky. It’s a drone It flies low over the party, almost hovering. On its underside is a camera—live-streaming. We all stand frozen. The red recording light blinks repeatedly. Then—BOOM.

Then it came. A low whine overhead. The drone. It sliced across the sky like a hawk of steel, then dropped fast—a perfect vector—until it hovered above the compound's central courtyard. Aria was already moving. Matteo was steps behind her, gun drawn. The drone lowered a small obsidian box via titanium thread, then shot off in a blur. No insignia. No traceable ID. Just the box. Aria approached. Her fingers curled around it. Warm. Sticky.

He quickly kicked it. “What the hell is that?!” He shouted, taking a step back. Seeing Donovan hide behind Edom, Edom elbowed his face angrily before standing, fixing his shirt. Olive and Oriana did the same. Olive looked at the drone and motioned to walk but Oriana grabbed her hand. She smiled. “It’s okay. That drone belongs to Ethan.” She whispered before walking towards the drone and the red box. The three remained a few meters away from Olive but Oriana followed behind her.

His face had the hollow look of someone who can smell the life he wasn’t allowed to ask for. On the third morning, a drone—a hum we didn’t recognize—buzzed the ridge and hovered. Orion didn’t look up. He threw a stone with the absent-fury elegance of a boy who’d once been punished for skipping rocks. It hit. The drone faltered, clipped a pine, and fell. Lyra whooped from somewhere up a tree, then jumped down, smashed the lens under her heel, and bowed to the creek. “Labors aside,” she said to Orion. “That was hot.”

The first drone came around the corner like it owned the hall. Compact. Four legs. Low profile. No face—just a sensor array and a small, ugly barrel tucked where a mouth should be. “Contact,” Aria snapped. “Internal security. Model six. It's not the worst. It's still bad.” Lys didn’t wait for it to announce itself.

With one precise shot, the drone dropped. By the time she reached the sand, Ember and Ezra were already there, weapons drawn. “What was that?” Ember asked, eyeing the wreckage. Alma bent down, brushing sand from the drone's mangled body. Her eyes narrowed as a tiny projector on its side blinked red. “Message drone,” she murmured. “Military grade. Possibly Russian design but the encryption? That’s private sector.” Ezra squinted. “It’s locked with a biometric trigger. Only opens for you.”

"Release the Silver-Eater." The carrier’s belly opened. A single, massive drone—the size of a small house—dropped. It didn't have rotors. It didn't have wings. It was a solid sphere of polished silver, humming with a sound that made my teeth ache. "What the fuck is that?" Silas whispered. "The end of the line," I said. I looked at Richard. He looked at me. He didn't say a word. He just grabbed my hand. "We’re not going to the estate," he said.