Chapter 191 Russian Robot Guy

Chapter 191 Russian Robot Guy
Serena’s POV

The voice didn’t sound human, that's what hit me first. Not the words, not even the meaning—but the sound.

It was deep, hard, unnatural, more like it was being dragged out, like it had been dragged through metal and sharpened on steel before reaching my ears.

A chill slid down my spine before I could stop it, and I turned slowly towards the voice.

And then I spotted him.

He stood several feet away, unmoving with his legs wide and grounded like he owned the very earth beneath his boots.

The suit he wore wasn’t something I could immediately understand—it wasn’t just armor. It was… something else.

It looked sleek, black, and impossibly refined, with faint lines running across it like veins of dim light.

The helmet fully covered his face, smooth and shining the light back on us, revealing practically nothing. No eyes. No mouth. No identity.

Just a presence, heavy and controlled, giving every bit the dangerous vibe.

For a moment, nobody spoke. Even the air felt tighter.

Beside me, I felt Nico shift slightly with his body instinctively moving in front of mine—not enough to block me, but enough to move just in case.

“Who the hell are you?” He demanded, his voice low and edged.

The man didn’t move, he didn’t react.

Then—

“That,” he said, the same distorted deep voice vibrated through the space between us, “is not what matters.”

Something about the way he spoke—calm and almost dismissive—made my chest tighten.

Nico’s jaw clenched beside me. “It matters to me.”

A pause. Then the man tilted his head just slightly.

“What matters more to you,” he said slowly, “knowing who I am… or getting your boss back?”

Nico didn't respond immediately, just stared back at him with his hands twitching by his side.

My breathing grew heavier as I thought over his, or its words again.

He knew.

Then behind him, some movement began with what looked like shadows peeling away from a wall, and men began stepping forward.

One. Then three. Then ten. Then more than I could possibly count.

I stiffened as they came into full view.

They weren’t like us.

They stood taller on average with broader shoulders and had a particular discipline and control in all their movements.

Their faces were sharp, pale, and hardened in a way that spoke of a cold past, or colder lives.

From what I could see here, they had light-colored eyes—steel gray, icy blue— and scanned everything with a certain calmness.

Russians. There was no mistaking it.

From their build to their posture to the silence they carried like a second skin… they weren’t just men.

They were soldiers. Trained and probably put through rough conditions. Lethal.

Nico must have noticed it too—I felt it in the way his body tensed further, the way his gaze sharpened.

“We need to know who we’re dealing with,” he said, firmer now.

The armored man didn’t even look at him.

Instead, his head turned slightly toward me.

And I realized—too late—that he had already decided who mattered more in this conversation.

My fingers curled slightly at my sides. Then I stepped forward.

“Nico,” I said quietly and he hesitated.

I didn’t look at him again.

“How can you help us?” I asked towards the robot man.

The man went still for half a second—like something had just clicked into place.

Then—

“I have enough men,” he said and paused before adding. “And enough weapons.”

Then he lifted one hand slightly into the air, and that was all it took.

The Russians moved immediately from behind them, dragging in large metallic and reinforced containers, heavy enough that it took multiple men to set each one down.

The sound of them hitting the ground echoed through the base and the sealing looked to be preserving something heavier.

One of the men unlocked the first crate and it hissed open.

Then, I gasped as he pushed it open.

Inside the container wasn’t just weapons, it was an arsenal. Nothing like anything I had ever seen.

They were guns, yes—but sleeker, smoother, designed with a level of quality that made ours look primitive.

The rifles had glowing energy cores embedded along their sides with compact weapons that pulsed faintly, like they were alive.

Then the next crate opened. And the next.

Each one worse—or better—depending on how you looked at it.

They had blades that shimmered with energy instead of steel.

Devices that looked like they could tear through walls without effort.

And then, I stepped closer without realizing it with my eyes locked onto one thing in particular.

It rested in the center of the crate like it knew it deserved all the attention.

A sword.

But not just any sword.

Its base was dark, metallic, perfectly balanced—and when one of the men activated it, a blade of pure light extended from it with a low, vibrating hum.

My chest tightened. “Laser,” I whispered under my breath, barely audible.

The glow reflected in my eyes as I reached for it, it was beautiful.

Deadly. Perfect.

I didn’t even realize I had reached out slightly until—

“I knew you’d like that,” I heard and my entire body froze.

The voice came from behind the mask. But this time—this time—it felt different, like it was human.

My head snapped towards him. “What?”

A pause.

Then he straightened slightly. “Advanced close-combat weaponry tends to attract attention,” he said smoothly, the distortion back in full force.

That was too smooth. Too fast.

Something flickered in my chest—something sharp and suspicious.

But it was gone just as quickly as it came.

Behind me, I heard Marcus let out a low whistle.

“Damn,” he muttered, already moving towards another crate. “We just upgraded.”

Nico didn’t move at first.

He stood there, staring at the weapons, then at the men, then at the armored figure.

I could see it on his face, he wasn't liking this, he didn't appreciate this one but.

I could tell there was a war inside his head.

But slowly, he stepped forward and picked up one of the weapons.

That was all it took. From there, everything moved fast.

Men began choosing weapons, testing them out, lifting, activating, examining.

“Pick anything you want,” the robot guy called out with a deep laugh.

A chill ran down my spine but I didn't pull back, I picked up two laser swords and two small guns.

As I was selecting, one of the Russian men walked over to me.

“You must be Serena,” he said and I turned to him sharply.

“Yeah?” I replied, kinda taken back.

He eyed me for a while before smiling. “You are just as he said,” he muttered with a smile.

“What?”

“Nice meeting you,” he chimed and I nodded slowly. “Try these too, handy bombs, not bigger than a pebble but blow like anything else.”

I scooped out a few and stared at them.

“Let's try it out,” he said and picked up one small one and threw it towards an empty car.

“Wait—”

I tried stopping him but the bomb already landed and blew up the car in flames.

“That was our car,” I muttered as I watched it burn up.

“Yeah, was,” he replied with a smile and walked away.

Men rushed for the bomb thing and I loaded myself up a couple, so did Nico, Marcus and Shawn as we had a whole container to ourselves.

“This is crazy,” Nico said.

“What is crazy is how these Russians have got our expensive guns looking cheap,” Marcus chimed in, then added while admiring a gun, “with these bad boys, we'll have Luca begging in minutes.”

I didn't say anything. He was right, these actually could change everything.

The base, which had been tense and uncertain moments ago, now buzzed with a different kind of energy.

War. Real war.

We weren't thinking of surviving again, we weren't thinking of just scrambling out a victory.

We were arming ourselves, ready and prepared for a fight.

I still held the sword in my hand with the light humming softly in my grip, steady and powerful.

For a moment, I forgot everything else. Till—

“Serena.”

I turned and Nico was standing beside Marcus now, both of them watching me.

The weight of everything came rushing back in.

My jaw tightened and I deactivated the blade slowly, putting it in place.

Then I looked at the armored man again.

“If we take your help,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt, “we do this our way.”

A pause. Then—

“Of course.”

Too easy, too willing. That same unease crept back in.

Behind me, Nico crossed his arms over his chest. “We’re really doing this, huh?”

Marcus exhaled slowly. “We don’t have a choice.”

Silence settled for a moment. Then I asked the question that had been burning in my chest since he appeared.

“The only problem now is finding where exactly Dante is, right?” I asked in Nico's direction.

“Yeah, our team—”

But the armored man stepped forward and cut him off.

“That won't be needed, I know exactly where they are.”