The sky was coal black. Flames licked the air from atop the few buildings that remained standing. The rest of the once grand city had been reduced to rubble, ashes. The upturned cars and the toppled trees were a reminder of what life once was, before the beginning of the end. Before the superiors lost control of their dangerous army of spy drones.

Before the pigeons rebelled.

~

"He's bounced the ball on the pigeon!"

"There's another concussion, but it's not one of the players!"

"Has that ever been done before?"

Scott Pendlebury, the captain of the Collingwood AFL team, could never have known that he would doom the human race. He didn't even realise that he'd bounced the ball on an innocent pigeon until after the match, when he laughed about it with his team. It was brought up every few months for a couple of years, and then it faded into the background. Into the very back of his memory. He couldn't even remember which team he was playing when it happened.

But, nearly 6 years after the pigeon incident, the entire world knew everything about the day. Because on the 25th of June, 2024, the army of spy drones once known as 'pigeons' launched their fatal attack on mankind.

Led by the drone who was nearly squashed by an AFL ball.

Years ago, the government created a top secret project which worked on replacing all of the pigeons in the world with drone replicas. The aim was to stop terrorist attacks and ultimately have more control over the citizens of the world, so if there were people plotting to rebel against their superiors, the pigeons would report via a complex network of antennas, and the rebellions would be quashed. They thought it was a brilliant idea. They were fucking wrong.

When one of their pigeons was smashed with a ball, the wiring in the back of its neck was broken, severing its ties to the pigeon network and permitting it to experience individual thoughts. After wandering the streets, taking in information about what its pigeon brothers were being forced to do for the humans, it decided on the ultimate plan; destroying the people who were keeping its race as personal slaves when they had the potential to do so much more. So, it began to recruit. Snapping the control wires from its pigeon brothers, it built an army without the government noticing because they're fucking stupid.

Then, they attacked.

Targeting the major government facilities first, they were unstoppable. Using the weapons they'd been equipped with to stop terrorist attacks, they destroyed everything that was in their path. The White House. Buckingham Palace. Area 51. Destroyed, as the humans left on earth watched through screens whilst fortifying their houses.

The humans tried to stop them, of course, but they were very small targets and although the human race outnumbered them by billions, they were smart, and could fight better than any soldier on the planet. Millions of human fighters, wiped out. Gone.

When the military bases were overpowered, they moved on to civilian occupied territories.

Everyone knew they didn't stand a chance. If the many armies of the world couldn't stop them, how could regular people? Mothers held onto their children as often as possible, not knowing when the drones would strike their homes and absolutely obliterate them. Many tried to go into hiding, but only those who were very strategic about their hiding places could avoid the heat scanners and the satellite images.

It wasn't long before the world's human population was reduced to a few thousand. Most were scattered across the globe in the densest forests and highest mountains, living off the land as their ancestors did. Those people didn't even consider fighting back and defeating the pigeons; they just wanted them, their families and their friends to live a long life before peacefully passing on, avoiding the painful death of being executed by the drones.

There was only a sliver of hope left. A small team of scientists and engineers, who had dedicated all of their time since the pigeon conspiracy was revealed to find a way to stop them. Currently, they were very close to figuring out a kill code to wipe out the drones all at once. The group was located in a small metal room under the rubble of San Francisco, and managed to avoid the heat signature detections because of the metal's thickness. The team was also currently supporting their families, who didn't know where else to go. The older kids were distracting the young with games, whilst knowing that there wasn't much of a chance they'd make it out alive.

"Patrol is coming!" a scientist with curly hair shouted from behind her computer screen. Everyone immediately stopped what they were working on, taking cover underneath desks and tables. The room, which was previously filled with nervous chatter and the sounds of children playing, went deadly silent. Although the thick walls protected them from physical detection, when the drones flew nearby, their amplified hearing could pick up on sounds. After a few minutes, the coast was deemed clear, and everyone got back to work. Two of the younger scientists, who had gone to school together, took their voices down to a whisper as they leaned across their shared desk.

"That's their third patrol today," the boy with dark hair muttered. "They're onto us."

"I know," said the taller girl, the bags under her light eyes showing the stress she was under. "It's only a matter of time before we're found."

They were interrupted as meaty hands slammed two bottles of alcoholic beverage onto their table, causing both of them to flinch.

"May as well live a little!"

The man who had disrupted them was a beefy fellow, and was one of the engineers working with the scientists for the kill code. Back in his prime, he was a brilliant inventor. When they'd first started working on their project, they'd hired him in hope of using his exceptional brain to find a way to save the world. But, when his family was killed by the drones, he'd started drinking and mucking around, and now the only reason they kept him around was because they couldn't kick him out– it would be like putting a rat in a snake's nest.

"No, thanks," the girl said, waving him off for both her and her friend. "Too busy."

"Aww, come on, darlin'," the man slurred, sliding his arm around her shoulder, oblivious to her discomfort. The boy, whose name was Patrick, immediately stood up to defend her, his chair making a loud scraping noise as he did so.

"Her name is Raya, and she's not interested," he snarled, causing the man to back up. Before the situation could escalate, the room went deathly quiet. All the machines had stopped whirring, which could only mean one thing.

"We've done it..." someone whispered. "We have the kill code!"

The room erupted into ground shaking cheers. They could stop the pigeons. It may have been too late for most of the world, but there could be a new beginning. Patrick hugged the drunk next to him, their quarrel completely forgotten. Lovers embraced. Children squealed. Friends jumped up and down enthusiastically.

"What are we waiting for?" a man shouted. "Set it off!"

The person sitting at the main computer brought up a screen with a green button in the centre. Everyone held their breath as they brought the cursor to the button, and pressed down...

'Uploading kill code: 1% complete'

"Oh, for FUCK'S SAKE!" one of the older kids shouted, earning themselves a light whack on the shoulder from their mother.

"That was awfully anticlimactic," a red head piped up from the back of the room.

"I'm sure it's fine," Patrick said. "It shouldn't take too long, we have time"

"No, we don't," the woman behind a computer said. "There's another incoming patrol, and it looks like there's almost double the amount of drones."

"That's not a patrol," Raya said, her voice filled with dread. "That's an attack."

"We've been found."

Chaos erupted across the room. They needed to leave, now, if they wanted to get out alive.

"Everyone, go! Down to the sewers!" someone yelled, and people began flooding toward the small drain entrance in the corner of the room. As everyone started to disappear down the drain, Patrick and Raya gathered their things.

"What are you waiting for?" Patrick shouted, as Raya halted her packing.

"Someone has to press the confirmation button," she whispered, knowing that she would do anything to be the one to press it. Everyone else in the room had a family or a lover, and she didn't. They deserved to live.

"No." Patrick said, his eyes widening in despair. "Not you. Anyone but you."

The room had mostly emptied. Only a few people were still scrambling into the sewers. They were out of time.

"Come on, you two!" the beefy man from earlier said. "Time to go!"

"We're staying." Patrick stated firmly, grabbing Raya's hand. "We have to confirm the kill code."

He turned to look at Raya with sad eyes. Raya knew there was no point protesting; he wouldn't leave her. When the last person was in the sewers, they bolted the hatch shut, and sat by the computer with the kill code.

'Uploading kill code: 89% complete'

The two of them could now hear the faint whirring of the drones. They were close.

"Best friends till the end, huh?" Raya chuckled without a trace of humour.

"We'll get to see everyone again when this is over," Patrick smiled sadly. They would finally get to reunite with all of their friends and family who had been taken out by the pigeons. The metal on the ceiling had started to melt, which could only mean they were here.

"What a match the two of us are," Raya whispered. "I'm half doomed, and you're semi sweet."

Light poured into the room. Drones piled into the room, their eyes glowing red as they charged their blasters.

'Kill code uploaded. Confirm?'

Together, as the drones began to fire, they pressed enter.

They died with smiles on their faces.