Ray didn't scream, but it was a close thing. The metal box had been just moments ago; there now stood a robot. It had oversized lens-like eyes, thin arms, and a bug-like face that was equal parts cool and creepy. Ray blinked, unsure of what to even think.
What was it?
Where did it come from?
Why was it in his room?
He opened his mouth to say something, but the words just... disappeared.
The robot looked around, its lenses zooming in and out like it was confused. Then it tilted its head and spoke in a high-pitched, synthetic voice:
“Systems active. Place not recognized. Red Dawn. Red.”
That’s when its gaze locked onto Ray—who realized he was still staring at it with his mouth wide open.
“Hi,” Ray said, voice shaky.
The robot didn’t reply. Instead, it zoomed its lenses in on him like a camera trying to focus.
“Ray Blackwell. Age: 16. Attends City High School,” it announced flatly.
Ray gasped and almost fell out of his chair. “The heck?! How do you know me?!”
The robot stared at him for a second, then asked, “Is that you?”
Before Ray could answer, a glowing hologram popped up in front of him—projected right out of the robot’s chest, just like in every sci-fi movie ever. The image showed his Instagram profile (@BlackRay) with his latest—and unfortunately, very dumb—profile picture: him wearing a bright pink shirt with flowers on it.
The robot twitched its mouth slightly. If robots could smirk, that’s definitely what it just did.
“Found it on the internet,” it said.
“Okay! Stop!” Ray blurted, face burning. The hologram vanished instantly.
Great. Now he definitely needed to change that picture. He’d never realized how ridiculous it looked until it was floating in front of him like that. What would his teachers think? Or worse—what about the girls in his class?
And Jenna. God, what would Jenna think?
He sighed hard. But as much as he wanted to crawl under his desk and delete his whole online identity, there were slightly bigger problems in the room right now.
“What are you? Some kind of freaky machine?” Ray asked, raising an eyebrow.
But the response wasn’t what he expected. Instead of answering, the robot suddenly jumped up—and smacked Ray on the head with its metal hand.
“OW!” Ray groaned, stumbling back.
“Don’t call me a machine!” the robot said pompously. “I’m ORO!”
“Oro?” Ray repeated, rubbing his head. “Sounds like a dog’s name.”
The robot hopped up again and smacked him a second time.
“Ouch! It hurts, you tin can!” Ray snapped. “Can you stop breaking my skull?”
“Only if you call me Oro!” the robot—er, Oro—declared proudly.
“Tsk. Fine,” Ray muttered, annoyed.
He stared at the little hunk of metal now standing still, its head tilted like it was scanning him again. Just like before. Ray suddenly remembered it had pulled up his Instagram earlier—God, hopefully it wasn’t checking that one post. The cringe was unbearable.
Still, one question kept bugging him. Where the hell did it come from? Was it dropped from a plane? Some secret government tech? Or—best case scenario—was it from outer space? Maybe it was an alien robot or something.
He cleared his throat. “So, uh... where’d you come from?”
Oro didn’t answer. Instead, it darted toward the window beside Ray’s desk, pushed it open, and stared outside.
“Where is he?” it mumbled.
Ray blinked. “Where’s who?”
Oro turned around and let out a sound that, to Ray, was very close to a sigh. “My partner. The one I work with.”
“You can work?” Ray asked, genuinely curious.
Oro lunged at his face. “Okay! Sorry!” Ray yelped, shielding himself with his hands. “It was a joke!” Oro backed off but stayed alert—like it was just waiting for Ray to say one more dumb thing so it could pounce again.
“So… is your partner like you?” Ray asked cautiously. “I mean, a machine?”
“No. He’s human,” Oro said, turning back to stare out the window. “But I can’t find him.”
Ray raised a brow. “You scanned me in seconds—even though we’ve never met. So why can’t you track your own partner?”
“We’re on a mission. I can’t tell you the details,” Oro replied seriously. “But we knew there was a chance we could be tracked. So Rowan—my partner—shut off both our navigators. Until you found me and turned me back on.”
Ray blinked. Mission? Trackers? This was a lot.
“But… how did he drop you?” he asked, grasping for something that made sense.
“He must’ve been attacked,” Oro said, his voice a notch lower. “Maybe injured. Or maybe he’s just lying low. Either way, I can’t reach him.”
Ray rubbed his temples. This was too much to process. He thought he’d found a cool robot. A weird one, sure—but still, cool. Now it was turning into secret missions, missing humans, and danger.
And the biggest problem- what if his parents walked into his room and saw this thing standing here, talking? He had zero idea how he’d explain that. He needed to figure something out—and fast.
“What are you gonna do till he shows up?” Ray asked, genuinely curious.
“I could just stay here,” Oro said with a shrug.
Ray blinked. He didn’t even know robots could shrug.
“What?!” he screeched. “Listen, you tin can—my parents should not see you. At all!”
Oro jumped up and stared him down.
It was more funny than threatening—he barely reached Ray’s eye level even when standing on the desk. Honestly, the little guy was about the size of a water bottle.
“It’s not my fault you activated me,” Oro said indignantly.
“I thought you were some kind of stereo, not a bug-eyed soda can with a superiority complex.”
“What did you say?” Oro snapped.
“You heard me, bug-face.”
“I will obliterate you!”
“Try me!”
“Honey! We’re home,” a voice called from downstairs, followed by the shuffle of footsteps and the front door closing.
Ray froze.
His blood ran cold.
“Crapcrapcrapcrap—” he whispered in a panic.
He jumped out of his chair, frantically scanning the room for a place to hide Oro. Oro, meanwhile, was busy staring at the desk lamp. He pressed the switch, and the light flicked on.
“Whoa! So this is some kind of table lamp. Earth is so outdated,” he muttered, shaking his head as he clicked it on and off. Again and again.
“STOP THAT!” Ray hissed, lunging forward and snatching the lamp out of his hands.
In the chaos, his foot smacked into the chair—and it toppled over with a clatter.
“What was that sound, honey?” his mom called up.
“Nothing, Mom!” Ray shouted back, voice cracking with panic.
He grabbed Oro like a rugby ball and whispered-yelled, “In the bag! Now! Quick!”
He heard the stairs creak.
They were coming up.
Ray yanked open his backpack, trying to shove Oro inside—but the little bot started flailing its limbs in protest.
“I’m not a thing! I won’t go inside!”
“For God’s sake, don’t be a drama queen! Either you get in, or I throw you out the window!” Ray snapped.
“Fine,” Oro grumbled, folding its limbs and hopping into the bag.
Ray zipped it shut, stood the chair back up, and grabbed a random book, flipping it open just as a knock came at the door.
“Ray!” His mom’s voice. “You okay in there?”
Ray cleared his throat, trying to sound calm while his heart thudded like a war drum. “Yeah, Mom. Studying. Intense chemistry stuff.”
There was a pause.
“Son, you hate chemistry,” his dad said. “We’re coming in.”
Ray cursed internally. “New year, new me?” he mumbled under his breath as the door creaked open. His parents stepped inside. His dad, early forties, still fit, had the same raven hair as Ray and some pretty serious eye bags.
Ray casually leaned against his desk. “Hey, Dad.” His father smiled back. His mother scanned the room with narrowed eyes. Everything looked normal—except for the lamp, which was now lying on the bed.
“Were you really studying?” she asked, skeptical.
“Of course, Mom. What else would I be doing?” Ray said, forcing a smile.
“I don’t know, son. The book’s upside down.”
Ray glanced down—it was upside down. He quickly flipped it the right way. “It fell. I just picked it up before you came in.”
"Sure. You’re a teenager. Teenagers do lots of things at your age,” she said seriously. “No need to be shy.”
Ray would've died of embarrassment on the spot—if he wasn't too focused on the fact that his backpack was vibrating. His dad, thankfully, must’ve mistaken the panic on his face for awkward teenage nerves. He placed a hand on his wife’s shoulder and said, “I think he got the message, honey. Let’s give him some space.”
His mom sighed. “Fine. Come down for dinner soon, Ray.”
“Yes, Mom,” he called as she walked out. His dad winked at him and followed.
As soon as the door shut, Ray exhaled—hard. Oro popped out of the backpack, grumbling, “I am never going back in there again.”
Ray stared at him, drained. Yeah, he was gonna need all the energy in the world—because the next few weeks?
Definitely weren’t going to be easy.
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