Elsewhere, the very same night...

A security guard stood alone, cigarette in hand, out in front of a rusting gate at the end of a long row of warehouses and factories.

He was a pudgy, elderly man, with graying hair and a tired look in his eye. He looked up at the stars, as a swarm of delivery drones cruised past over head, carrying all manner of packages to all manner of people.

Taking a long draft of his cigarette, the guard pondered how much work it must have taken to get a system like the drone deliveries set up. There were the computers that customers ordered from, all over the world, then a computer that commanded an item to be ordered from a supplier, which was then packaged by a robot in a factory run by another computer, which was then delivered to the packaging facility, which was sorted by another computer, and flown out by drone via yet another computer. Each computer running billions of lines of heavily optimized code all working in perfect harmony, and if one tiny thing were to upset the balance, the entire system would collapse.

He supposed that was the real reason most employees at the city factories had been replaced by machines one way or another. Not only did the company in question no longer have to pay for labor, but it eliminated the human error that could upset the entire system, which could slow things down and cost the company an extra credit or two in profits.

Still, the guard had kept his job throughout the years as the men he used to see coming in and out of the factory lost theirs. The general public still didn't trust putting a gun in the hands of a robot outside of warfare on another continent, and there seemed to be a mutual agreement that all important human ability to reason and make complex moral decisions was ultimately less likely to result in a lawsuit than a security camera with an automated laser cannon.

The guard waved a hand over his watch, and a holographic image appeared at his eye level, showing what time it was, and a picture of his teenage granddaughter playing a VR game with her friends at a party. He smiled, reminding himself that he would be able to buy her that new SmartWatch that was being released this Christmas with the pay from this job. If only pensions were still available, he would've been able to afford the higher end model.

CRACK!

Out of nowhere, some kind of shockwave rippled through the air. The security guard felt a sudden rush of wind, immediately followed by a strong shock radiating through his body. The sensation resembled the result of touching a metal doorknob after rubbing his boots on a woolly carpet. Suddenly bright sparks flew from his watch, and the nearby street lights flickered out, leaving him without a single means of orientation in the surrounding pitch black night.

Something was very wrong.

He waved his hand over his watch. Nothing. It sat lifeless and cold on his wrist. He thought for a moment, and reached into his utility belt, picking up his flashlight, and flicked the switch without any success. It too lay cold and dead. He hastily reached into his pocket for his cigarette lighter, which thankfully flickered to life, birthing a small flame that emanated a pitifully limited circle of light a few feet in front of him. The guard frantically waved it in every direction, cautiously focusing on his short, fast breaths so they wouldn't kill the flame. His rushed gaze agitatedly searched for the source of whatever was happening.

Without a warning, a small object fell from the sky, slamming into the hard asphalt with a sharp plastic crack. Then, another, and another. Hundreds of plastic meteorites smashed into the ground all over the industrial complex, the guard instinctively killing the flame of the lighter to instead shield his head with his arms as he cautiously moved towards the first object.

It was a delivery drone, its black plastic body shattered against the ground, its rotors still as a stone.

The falling objects were all dead drones, disabled by the mysterious shockwave.

The guard began to panic, the oppressive feeling pinching off his exhalation for a moment. This wasn't some kind of power outage or malfunction. This was man made, and it was deliberate. It might be some kind of robbery, and it was his job to stop it. Determinedly shaking off the stiffness, he ran to the front gate, drew his standard issue laser pistol, and prayed.

A metallic rumble echoed through the complex. A bright light appeared from around the corner, growing in size in conjunction with the sound growing louder and clearer. It was some kind of engine, the kind of engine the security guard hadn't heard since he had been in his youth.

An internal combustion engine, he understood, this was some kind of car, like the street racers he heard about on the news!

The car screamed towards where he was standing. It was large and boxy, a vintage muscle car of some kind, and it wasn't the only vehicle. It was followed by two classic pickup trucks, their headlights cutting through the night like the blades of a knife, their beds packed with men dressed in balaclava masks.

The guard froze with fear.

The muscle car reached the lot where the security guard still stood motionlessly. Its engine was so loud, the guard could barely hear anything. It sped closer and closer towards him, until he was certain it was going to run him down, his heart skipping a beat as the realization hit him.

SQrRReeeeEEEEEccHH!

It jerked to a hold, only inches before hitting him, its headlights blinding him. Its idling engine rattled the guard's bones.

The two pickup trucks stopped behind it, and the driver's side door of the muscle car opened almost simultaneously with its engine being shut off.

The man who stepped out was tall, with a broad shouldered frame. He was dressed in silver metal armor and a long black trench coat, his face obscured by a striking chrome skull mask, its eyes glowing red with some kind of holographic lens. A large cowboy hat topped his head, giving him the appearance of a demonic gunslinger from a wild west fable.

"Looks like the E.M. pulse worked a charm." He proclaimed. His voice was deep, accented by a slight southern drawl. The security guard observed around 10-15 masked men in body armor as they climbed out of the pick up trucks.

"Soldiers! Are you ready to lay down your life for the cause!" He growled.

"SIR YES SIR!" The masked men shouted in unison.

The security guard held his gun in front of him, pure terror tearing his eyes wide open.

"S-s-stop right there..." The security guard stuttered, his grip on his gun shaking.

The leader of the group turned around like he was moving in slow motion.

" Good evening sir. " He said confidently, with a tip of his hat.

"Y-you're trespassing!" The security guard shouted, lacking anything more threatening to say.

"So, what are you gonna do, call the cops? Our electromagnetic pulse bomb just took out every electronic device for a square mile. Move along now, we've got business to take care of." His words sounded way too casual for someone who looked like he had just ascended from hell itself.

"I-I have a gun! I can shoot you!" He stuttered, his shaking hand betraying his threat.

"Now we're talking. Alright then... go ahead, shoot me." The man said.

The security guard trembled with fear, but he shakily raised his gun to aim at the leader.

After a few seconds had passed without any action taken, the man in the skull mask cocked his head to one side.

"Well, I'm waiting..." He reminded the security guard with a hint of impatience.

The guard turned away, tears suddenly flowing from his eyes, still trying to keep the nose of his pistol trained on the man.

"I'll make it easy for you."

The leader walked forward, and gently put both hands around the barrel of the gun before kneeling down and putting the barrel to his heart. He took one hand off the barrel and grabbed the security guard by the head to forcefully turn it towards him.

The guard stared wide-eyed and entirely motionless.

"You want to kill a man? Look him in the eye, and shoot him. If you can't do that, you're no better than the corpo-politicians running this city... AM I RIGHT MEN!"

"SIR YES SIR!" The obedient answer came from the united voices.

The guard took a deep breath, stared ahead and pulled the trigger.

*click*

Nothing.

"Ah, standard government issue laser pistol. Electronic, the bomb took it out... still, you had the balls to actually try. Excellent! You get to live." The security guard blinked twice, unable to make any sense of the other man's mindset.

The leader stood slowly, then, without a warning, reached into his belt and with what appeared to be lightning speed drew a silver combat revolver- a traditional ballistic firearm, an old school weapon from a time before laser weapons were standard. He fired from the hip, with incredible accuracy.

BLAM

The security guard cried out. His left knee was in pure, white hot agony, as blood soaked his uniform and his leg gave in underneath him.

"Men! You remember the briefing! Continue as planned."

"SIR YES SIR!"

The masked men marched forward in formation and climbed over the fence single file, the leader standing with his hands on his hips next to the security guard, who clutched his knee in agony, blood dripping to the ground from between his fingers as the fabric of his pants was already soaked.

"Don't worry, we aren't stealing..." the leader remarked as he playfully spun his revolver and holstered it.

"Then... why..." the security guard whispered as his vision began to blur, telling him that he was inevitably going to pass out.

"We are sending a message. "

KABOOM

A blinding orange glow lit up the industrial complex like daybreak. The guard craned his neck to turn around, as a wave of dry heat enveloped him.

The factory was in flames, black smoke billowing from what remained of its structure.

"When the cops wake you up for questioning, tell them we are Children of Combustion..." The man said, calmly "and we, are going to BURN THIS CITY TO THE GROUND!" he added, shouting madly at the top of his lungs.

The masked men climbed back over the fence, and ran off to their pickup trucks.

"THE CITY WILL BURN!" The masked men chanted in unison, over and over.

The leader turned and calmly walked towards his car, tossing his cigar to the ground and crushing it under his foot.

The last thing the security guard heard was the snarl of a vintage V8 engine echoing through the night as his vision faded away into a deep unconsciousness.

**************