In the dark of night, a woman with blonde hair calmly walks to the front doors of a luxurious mansion. Stone carved lions appear frozen in time before a fountain of crystal clear water. Perfectly trimmed hedges line the stone brick road to the wide steps up the mighty mansion. The lady gently knocks on the doors with the horseshoe handle; her skin appears impossibly smooth. After a dozen seconds of silence, a bald, gray bearded man in a bathrobe opens one of the giant doors. Before him stands a blonde woman in a black and white maid outfit with both arms behind her back.

"Who are you?" asks the older man. "I'm here for the maid application, Mr. Armstrong." It was only now Armstrong squinted to get a toe to head look at the woman. Even without his contacts, he could tell she was gorgeous. The short skirt of the maid uniform showcased her legs. In fact, the entire dress showed much more skin than his other maids, who were all close to his age and far less attractive. "At 10pm?" he asks in a gruff, southern accent. The woman said, "I want to assist you in any way, sir." Armstrong smirked and chuckled as he looked around his front yard. "Well, make yourself at home, little lady."

Grand double doors are opened to allow the blonde maid inside the master bedroom. Magnificent architecture made the room feel more at home in the royal castles of England. Spotless and shiny. The guest never said a word, and Armstrong closed the doors quietly. "You can start that assistance in here," he said while pulling his left arm out of his robe sleeve. The woman turned around, finding the bearded man de-robed from the waist up. Both of his arms were prosthetic, the expensive kind.

"What was your name, little lady?" With metal fingers, Armstrong lifts his glasses from his nightstand. Upon getting a much clearer look at the woman, she appeared a little peculiar. Armstrong raised his bushy brow in suspicion now. There was something uncanny about her. Something non-human. She stepped closer and placed both hands on Armstrong's bare chest. "Iris." A strong electrical current shot through the bearded man's body. His arms spark and lose functionality. He too falls limp on the king sized bed.

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Ramone's Italian Cuisine, the local restaurant sweeping up customers from all over Phoenix, Arizona. Black and white checkerboard tiles cover the floor. Colors of the Italian flag decorate the walls. TVs hang in the corners playing sports channels. And on the windows appears a cartoon rendition of Ramone, a big nose man with a big mustache and an even bigger smile.

Sitting in the round booth in the back corner, the band enjoys their lunch. Cheese melts off the tip of Amy's slice before stuffing it in her mouth. *Mmmm* After wiping her face with a napkin, she says to her bandmates, "Since that concert last week, our Lemonwire views have doubled!" Vee replies with a hint of frustration, "We only had 22 views." "Yeah," Chester adds, "but double is better than nothing! We'll be big time in no time!" Lajon seconds his optimism. "Let's hope so. Summer break's half way over now."

As the teens dig into their melting cheese pizza, Vee silently stares out the window with her hand over her heart. "Not hungry?" asks Lajon. The sad girl turns and says, "I haven't felt mom's heartbeat in a few days. It's been slowly fading, and now...I have to find her. I have to find Death Metal." On the booth between the teens sits the bulky handheld device with a screen, which Lajon picks up and activates. "I've been looking into tech gurus across the country," he says while pushing buttons, "So far, this is the best lead I have."

Displayed on the device's analog TV style screen are three photos of Raymond Klank at different ages. An article reads "Klank & Armstrong settle 20 year dispute!" "Raymond Klank started his own robotics company when he was eighteen," Lajon explains, "Twenty-seven years later, and he's the biggest name in the industry. Even sells machines to the US Military."

Vee takes the device from her friend's hand and stares at the genius inventor. She taps a few buttons, displaying an interview video with Raymond from March. "Jeremiah Armstrong is a brilliant man, almost as brilliant as me. Whether he copied my tech or not, doesn't matter anymore. I foresee a future where-" The handheld lags, and Vee simply drops it on the table. "That's his voice." Chester chomps another slice of pizza before talking with his mouth full, "But what if he's faking his voice, and he actually sounds like an alien?"

The other three teens give their spiky haired friend a disappointed stare, then return to the current topic. "I'm sure it's him," Vee says with clenched fists on the table. Amy smiles and places her hands on top of her friend's. "Then maybe you should tell your dad." "No!" Annoyed, Vee withdraws her hands quickly. "Dad doesn't want my help, so I'm going to take him down myself." "Not by yourself," adds Lajon with his arm around her back, "With us." Finishing his slice, Chester asks, "Uh, how are we gonna fight a guy in a mech suit?" Lajon grins. "I have an idea."