EXT. SECURITY HQ PERIMETER – CONTINUOUS
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Smoke and red rotating beacons paint the plaza. The monstrous spire hums, vein‑like ridges pulsing with dim light; thinner tendrils slither from its roots, melding into pavement.
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Jason hustles to the nearest instructor‑bot marshal point—a portable command kiosk bristling with scanners. Cadets and veterans alike cluster in squads, armor clanking.
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JASON
“Gearman, Unit 4789. Status?”
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INSTRUCTOR‑BOT (rapid‑fire)
“Spire emerged at 02:14—zero seismic precursors. Material scans match 87% with parasitic alloy samples recovered last month.”
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Jason’s eyes narrow—exactly what he saw in the corpse‑puppets.
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INSTRUCTOR‑BOT (cont.)
“Patrol formation Delta‑Grid. Surround HQ at fifty‑meter radius—block civilian access. S.R.S. units are sweeping Sector Four, shuttling non‑combatants out.”
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Jason glimpses S.R.S. mechs down the avenue—riot shields, crowd‑guidance drones shepherding frightened bots to safety.
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JASON
“Science teams?”
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INSTRUCTOR‑BOT
“Trying to secure micro‑core samples. Vines lash at anything within ten meters. Two analysts already cocooned—parasitic fusion in seconds.”
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Jason winces, stares at the twitching roots.
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INSTRUCTOR‑BOT
“Your squad’s there—north barricade. Move!”
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Jason jogs to a line of Security bots stacking portable blast‑shields. The air reeks of ozone and burnt circuitry.
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SERGEANT‑BOT
“We hold until R&D figures out how to torch this weed.”
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A patrolmate leans over.
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PATROLMATE
“You see how fast it shot up? One blink—bam, tower kebab.”
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Jason loads a slug into his rail‑cannon, voice low.
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JASON
“Same alloy we scraped off parasite hosts. Means this isn’t random—it’s planned.”
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He eyes the spire’s surface—organic metal plates flex like breathing skin.
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SERGEANT‑BOT
“Focus, Gearman. If that thing sprouts friends, we’re first wall.”
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Jason nods, sets stance behind the shield line. In the distance, science drones hover, edging closer—one vine snaps out, spears a drone, drags it into the core with a sizzling hiss.
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JASON (V.O.)
“Whatever’s down there, it’s done hiding.”
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He grips his weapon tighter. Night air vibrates with the spire’s heartbeat, and the battle of HQ begins.
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FADE OUT.
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