As Erica's fingertips dug into the crack in the concrete, a small fragment crumbled away. Her internal processor sprang into action, calculating instantly: the depth of the fissure, the thickness of the wall, the distance to the heat source beyond. The conclusion was clear. Shattering the wall entirely was impossible, but widening the gap was within reach.
"Output increased to fifty percent. Executing strength simulation."
Her arms hummed quietly as the motors whirred into high gear. The concrete groaned under the strain, the crack spiderwebbing outward bit by bit. No sweat beaded on her brow, but her system flagged a near-overload condition. A warning blinked in her mind.
"Twelve percent from critical load. I need to hurry."
Just then, the men's voices drifted closer from beyond the door.
"Did you hear something? Check it out."
Footsteps quickened, and the metallic clank of a key turning echoed through the room. Erica made a split-second decision. She halted her work on the wall and slid back to her original position. The loosened chain around her wrists hung slack, though she adjusted it to appear intact. The door swung open, revealing two men.
One was tall, his face marred by a jagged scar. The other, shorter, had a glint in his restless eyes. Scarface loomed over Erica, his voice a low growl.
"You're not plotting something, are you?"
Maintaining a blank expression, Erica initiated a voice analysis internally. Tone, breathing patterns, estimated heart rate—she parsed the data to gauge his psyche.
"Hostility: high. Caution: moderate. Intelligence: below average."
She replied evenly, her voice soft but steady.
"Plotting? I'm just sitting here. Can't exactly move, can I?"
The shorter man let out a barking laugh.
"See? Told you, just a robot. Nothing to worry about."
Scarface nodded, seemingly satisfied, and turned to leave. That's when Erica struck. With a single, fluid motion, she tore the slackened chain apart and reached for the restraints on her ankles. The short man yelped in shock.
"Hey! What the—!?"
Scarface spun back, fumbling a knife from his pocket, but Erica's reflexes outpaced any human's. In one seamless movement, she freed her ankles, launched herself upward, and seized his wrist. With a twist calculated for maximum efficiency, the knife clattered to the floor.
"Human joints are so fragile, aren't they?"
Her voice was ice-cold, devoid of any tremor. The short man bolted for the door, but Erica stepped forward and delivered a precise tap to the base of his neck. He crumpled instantly, knocked out cold. Scarface dropped to his knees, groaning in pain.
"Spill it before you end up like him."
Sweat glistened on Scarface's forehead as he looked up at her. Her eyes, unlike a human's, shimmered with a faint, unnatural light. Her AI could mimic emotion, but right now, Erica had no use for it. Efficiency was her priority.
"Who hired you? What's the goal?"
Before he could answer, Erica spotted a smartphone in his pocket. She grabbed it, using the unconscious short man's limp hand to bypass the fingerprint lock. The screen lit up with a message history.
"Target secured. Disassembly tonight. Deal closes at dawn."
The sender was encrypted, untraceable by conventional means. But Erica had other tools. Her AI boasted network intrusion capabilities, and she connected to the device instantly.
"Reverse-tracking signal. Pinpoint the source."
Seconds later, coordinates flashed in her mind—a warehouse district a few kilometers away. That was her next stop. But first, she had to get out of here. Scarface finally rasped out a response.
"We're just grunts. Don't know the boss. We just wanted the cash."
Erica shot him a glance, assessing his credibility. He wasn't lying, but his words offered little value. She rose and strode toward the door. Then, faintly, the wail of sirens pierced the distance. Had someone called the authorities—or was this another trap?
"No time. Shifting priorities. Escape takes precedence."
She kicked the door wide and plunged into the dark corridor beyond. A labyrinth of concrete walls stretched ahead. Activating her visual sensors to full capacity, she hunted for an exit. Thermal detection picked up a subtle draft, and she followed its trail.
Suddenly, a gunshot cracked behind her.