A/N: So, if anyone is actually reading this, I would really like to know what you think. Leave me a review, maybe? I would really like to know what you guys think :)

According to the stories, there was a time when the sky wasn't red.

At one point, the sky was, supposedly, the exact opposite color—a soft azure that was especially breathtaking when there weren't any clouds. But as the sun grew older, it did exactly what all stars do when they begin to die—expand, and take on that bloody hue that now dominated our sky. Humanity evolved, to the point where we could survive the temperatures that would have burned our long-ago ancestors to a crisp.

Not that evolution did much for us.

There were also stories about a time before androids, a time when humans ruled the earth instead, and had no one else to fear—except maybe each other. These ancient stories also spoke of humans being the androids existed, that our ancestors, in the height of their ambition, actually created them. It was a concept that made little sense, though: did they truly not realize that they were bringing about their own downfall?

Most days, I find the tales of a younger Earth that was drastically different from how it is today pretty much impossible to believe. As far as I was concerned, the sky had always been crimson, and humans had always been few, living in constant fear of the androids, who seemed to take great pleasure in hunting us down—their twisted version of sport.

But on a few, rare occasions, I wondered what it would've been like then, living in a time where humanity had no real concerns about survival, when the very thought of us going extinct was simply laughable. Then I wonder how humans reacted when they learned that the creation of androids was a terrible mistake. Did they try to destroy the androids? It was clear that they didn't succeed. But how was it like for those who lived so long ago, to be destroyed by their own creation? How could it possibly have felt to have been the hunter but become the hunted?

But the biggest question on my mind wasn't any of those. Those questions were ones that I considered out of boredom and knew could never be answered, not when all the people who would have known the answer to that died a million years ago. No, the one question that really bugged me, as well as the other humans out there (or so I figured), was this:

How were we still alive?

I usually tried not to think about it too hard. I was simply grateful that humans were, in fact, still alive, and hoped that despite the androids, we would find a way to continue as we always have.

But it wasn't until today that I found a possible answer, one that shocked me and questioned greatly one of the few things I have always known.

At first I had thought that this was it. I was going to die, and there was nothing I would be able to do about it. It was hopeless. I'd known it the moment I saw the androids, the first I'd ever seen—and without a doubt the last.

It was impossible not to recognize androids. Yes, they looked like us, but even if you didn't see how much stronger and faster they were than us, you'd still be able to see some sign that marked them as not human. Androids were like that, wanting to make it clear to humans how superior they were by giving themselves features that no ordinary human would be able to have, simply to rub it in our faces more as they slaughtered us.

Anyway, there were two of them. They were both tall, male in appearance (though I never understood that—androids were technically genderless). Both had eyes the exact same shade as the sky. One had large, cobalt blue wings, an obvious advantage over a human. The other had silvery veinlike lines that spiderwebbed across his entire body, which seemed purely ornamental, but I knew better than to believe that. Both of them looked at me with pure malice, making me feel as inferior as a bug.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" the first one, the one with the cobalt wings, sneered at me.

"A pathetic human female," the other one replied. The way he looked at me chilled me to the bone. "How about this: run, and just maybe you'll be able to escape with your fragile little life."

A shiver ran up my spine at the android's words. They knew that there was no way I could escape, not when they can too easily outrun me. They were toying with me.

Despite knowing this, my brain decided to urge my feet forward. I only made it several feet before something grabbed my ankle, and I fell, face-first, into the dirt.

I dared to look back, and noticed that thin, steel whips clung to my ankle. It was obviously coming from the second android, the whips protruding from his outstretched palm.

"If that's the best you can do, human, then killing you is going to be rather boring," he growled at me.

"We could always find more ways to have fun with her, though," the first one pointed out, smirking cruelly.

But before he—or rather, it—could elaborate on that, an unidentified blur appeared suddenly and started attacking the other androids.

"You picked the wrong 'droids to mess with, Virus," one of them, I wasn't sure which, spat at the newcomer.

I wasn't about to stay for the fight, though— perhaps I actually had a slim chance of escape now. I rather doubted it, but I felt I had to try. Unfortunately, I hadn't realized how lightheaded I was until just then, and it was too late. The darkness consumed me, erasing any minuscule chance I may have had of actually escaping.

What must have been only a few minutes later, I awoke, and briefly wondered what had happened. It only took a moment, though, and the moment I realized that I was somehow still alive, I wasn't sure what to think. I was sure I wouldn't have been able to survive, because no one survived an encounter with androids. But as I looked around, I saw the two androids that were about to kill me lying on the ground, motionless. Decommissioned, no doubt…. but how?

That's when I noticed the other android.

This one had the type of features of a boy my age, except for the triangular ears above his head that resembled those of a wolf's—which I figured gave him a better sense of hearing, or something of the sort. The android was staring at me, almost curiously, and I realized he was probably the one who attacked the other two androids.

But why?

Something occurred to me that I knew was far too unlikely—impossible, in fact—but that didn't make the thought vanish.

"Are you okay?" the android asked quietly.

"You… saved me," I said, unable to believe it. There had to be some kind of trick.

He said nothing, simply looking up at the sky. Then, with a sound of metal sliding against metal, he shifted, his body transitioning into one of a large hawk—if hawks were made of metal.

Then he took off, a silver bird flying across a crimson sky.