Miscalculation

The worst mistake would be to laugh it off.  How many people, walking tipsy down the street at night, would keep a straight face?  Not many.  But even fewer would survive the faux-pas.  For while the robot unicorns were built without many things, a sense of furious pride was not one of them.

Relegated to the sewers, razor-sharp rainbow horns catching street light where the blood had not stuck, they watched, waited, and above all… listened.  They were the shunned few, far too long the butt of j...