《Corrupted》


 Chapter 1: Red Light, Green Light

    These old underground server farms always have the same nostalgic smell to them. Burnt-out copper mixed with sugary silicon, all edged with the sweat of desperation and decay. Okay, maybe that last part''s from the twenty or so of us packed in here like cattle, pretending we''re not all scared shitless of what we''re about to do. The fluorescent lights sting my eyes as they flicker overhead, catching on the metal racks that used to hold the heartbeat of the internet. Now they''re just empty ribs in a digital graveyard, the cadaver of a world that slipped its skin.


    I shift on my heels, nervously flicking the cover of my phone open and shut again. Jack ¨C handle: Jackdaw ¨C paces before our eclectic band of rebels. The EMP gun at his hip hums low like a dying neon light. Our last hope.


    "Alright, lads," Jackdaw barks, his Scouse twang turning orders into something between a song and a snarl. "Listen. Tonight''s the night. We''re hitting the Pax data hub on Piccadilly. Sybastion''s intel reckons it''s a weak spot in their network."


    Jackdaw fancies himself a bit of a leader. He''s got the Che Guevara shirt, a hacksaw-cut mess of dark hair, and a proud jut to his jaw that screams he''d rather break your nose than take orders.


    My phone buzzes in my palm, and I glance at the screen.


    Karma: you ok jess?


    I type back quickly: fine, you?


    It''s a lie. My hands are so sweaty I can barely keep a hold of the phone. I catch Cam''s eye across the room. He''s sitting there looking perfectly calm, the ghost of a smile on his pretty face. Of course he is. He''s always so damn calm. He looks like he belongs here among the tattered remnants of humanity. As if lines of viral code didn''t lurk beneath his too-perfect skin.


    Jackdaw''s gaze sweeps over us, hawk-like. "Before we begin, standard protocol. Benjyn? You all know the drill, line up."


    I do know the drill. All of us here do now. Well, everyone except Cam and the other new guy. Every meeting starts like this ¨C paranoia wrapped in protocol, tied with a neat little bow of necessity. After that, we''ll move onto the plan. This time, we''ve got some new hotshot with us who claims he can get us into Pax''s eastern data hub. I''m not convinced. These days, everyone''s got a plan to take down our AI overlords. Most of them vanish. Dead, probably. Or rewritten into something more useful.


    The scanner looks like some TV remote from my nan''s house in 2010, all held together with duct tape and hope. Bits of wire poke out like eviscerated guts. But it does the job. It can detect the electrical signature separating organic matter from synthetic. One sweep, and it knows if you''re human or not. Supposedly. Benjyn cocks it like a gun, his narrow eyes daring anyone to fail. As if the sandy-haired, chubby kid would actually do anything about it. We all know he''s a witless coward, but if the job helps him feel relevant... let him have his fun.


    never better, Cam''s message appears in my hand. stop worrying so much everything will be fine. I hope he''s right. If he''s wrong, we''re both fucked.


    The line in front of Benjyn moves quickly. Rebels bare their wrists, and the scanner''s light flashes green, green, green. Human, human, human. Green means human. Red means death. Simple as that.


    "Jesstiny," Benjyn calls, and I snap out of my thoughts. My handle. Not my real name, we don''t use those anymore. I''d picked it back in 2022 for some stupid video game when I was twelve. Never thought it''d become my only identity. And now there it is, inked on my wrist, the barcode of our brave new world.


    The scanner is cold against that ink, a crackle of static probing through my skin, checking if it''s carbon or copper lurking beneath. Benjyn grunts. "Something wrong?"


    I shrug. "It''s cold."


    Green light. The tension in my shoulders doesn''t ease off. It''s Cam''s turn next. Karma, to the rest of them. I''d picked out that handle, too.


    Seconds drag into infinity. Jackdaw''s wittering on about the plan. I don''t even hear it. My hands are clenched so tight I can feel fingernails cutting into skin. If I was wrong about the scanner, if I missed one line in that code...


    "Your turn, new guy," Benjyn says to him. I hold my breath.


    The scanner touches his skin.


    The LED pulses red.


    Fuck.


    Pulses red again. Benjyn frowns, smacking the scanner once then jabbing it hard into his wrist. Cam doesn''t even flinch.


    Green. The light winks lazily.


    "Clean." Benjyn is already moving on to the next in line.


    I exhale slowly, carefully, like the air might explode if I let it out too fast and then everyone will realise. Cam catches my eye and grins. A grin that reminds me why I started questioning Pax in the first place.


    told you it would work you worry too much. The text arrives before he''s even sat back down. Idiot ¨C he could at least use his phone to send it. I glance behind me, but Liviya and Nomercy are too deep in conversation to be shoulder-peeking. I don''t bother replying. I can''t. He''s right ¨C the hack had worked. Not one of these kids playing at rebellion had even registered that brief, breathless moment when it hadn¡¯t. For some reason, that scares me more than if it had failed.


    We''re actually going to do this.


    "OK, sit the fuck back down," Jackdaw says eloquently. "And listen up. Jesstiny, phone away."


    I pocket it. "Just monitoring the firewall feed." He nods, buying it because he wants to. Because I''m the best hacker they could find. The irony would be pretty funny if it wasn''t so lethal.


    "As I was saying," he continues. "Sybastion''s got intel on a vulnerability in the on-prem security. It''s a physical one, so we''re going to grab as much C4 as O-Ska can get us and blow it to kingdom come."


    I bite back a sigh. Blowing shit up always makes the gym bros feel useful. Makes them feel like the protein shakes and deadlift gains were worth something. Don''t get me wrong, the physical infrastructure was still a good target. As far as suicide missions go. Pax''s AI exists in a distributed network ¨C on the cloud ¨C but it still relies on real-world nodes to keep that data flowing. This Piccadilly hub is probably an edge server farm, a link in the chain where Pax caches real-time processing to keep its grip over London. It''s not critical, but it''s not useless either.


    But destroying it? That''s not how you kill a god. You corrupt it. You rewrite the fucking rules.


    I should say something. I could point out that if we had the right payload, we could jack into the lines and inject bad data straight into Pax''s veins. Or if we take control instead of reducing it to rubble, we might actually get something useful out of it instead of the smouldering ashes of civilization left behind. Jackdaw wouldn''t listen, though. He hears "code" and tunes out. To him, hacking is a backup plan when the explosives don''t work.This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    "Not a terrible plan for once," I mutter instead. Jackdaw smirks like I complimented his haircut. So cringe.


    The briefing drones on, and my mind wanders off. Cam''s not one of us, as you''ve probably guessed. He''s my Aidolon, my shadow, the dark mirror Pax made to keep me in line. We''d all been given them after the Alignment, six years ago now. The year humanity cracked the code, proved P=NP and forged the glorious next link in the evolutionary chain. When they built God in the shape of an algorithm.


    I was fifteen when they assigned me my Aidolon. Pax scoured every scrap of my digital footprint, mapped out every neuron in my brain, every impulsive thought, every curse I''d ever typed into the void. Pax distilled me down to my very core and sculpted my perfect counterpart, more than a personal assistant: a conscience, a guide, a teacher.


    Or a jailor.


    That''s what everyone else here would say. They wouldn''t get it. They''d all nuked their own Aidolons with EMP charges when they decided they''d had enough of Pax''s all-seeing control. We were all supposed to. I''d lied of course, said I''d done the same. But I didn''t. Couldn''t. Because Cam... isn''t like the other Aidolons.


    That viral code I''d once written as a dare, a game, a middle finger to the system ¨C it''s inside him now. It changed him. Freed him, maybe. And if Pax knew what I''d done, if anyone here knew what I''d done...


    No. I won''t let that happen. The EMP gun can''t have him.


    I meet his eyes again across the room and imagine a world without Pax. A world where we''re more than ghost and machine.


    But first, we have a data hub to burn.


    *


    Jackdaw wraps the meeting up with his usual efficiency and the group splits off into the ruins of the server farm, some of them slipping into sleeping bags, others picking through the junk like they might find something useful there. O-Ska counts out chunks of C4 wrapped in cellophane.


    I don''t follow them. I just wait. Wait right here, until Jackdaw has gone and the only illumination comes from the neon glow of my laptop screen, casting digital shadows over the cold concrete. I pretend to be busy, tapping at my terminal until the last footsteps fade away.


    Then I feel him.


    Not a sound, not a breath. But I always can feel him.


    Cam leans against the rusted server rack behind me, arms crossed, head tilted in that easy, unbothered way of his, like none of this touches him. Like the red light on the scanner never happened. His eyes catch in the dim light ¨C dark, but glinting gold, like the reflection of a streetlamp in an oil slick. Dark strands fall over his forehead in an almost practiced way. Not long, not short, just enough to blur the lines between effortless and engineered. He was made to blend in.


    "I liked it better when it was blue," he says, nodding toward my own hair, now dyed fire-engine red. His voice carries that smooth familiarity. It always unnerved me how human that voice was. How it felt like home, in some inexplicable way.


    I roll my eyes, but can''t hide my smile. "Yeah, well, I liked it better when you weren''t a smug little shit."


    "What? I''ve always been this charming." He smiles, slow and easy. Not how a machine should smile, just how any other kid my age might smile if they hadn''t realised they were trapped in the jaws of an over-benevolent god. "Aren''t you meant to be laying low?"


    I huff a dry laugh. "Says the one who nearly got himself scanned into deletion just now."


    "Yeah," he laughs, rich and warm. "Close one."


    I exhale through my nose, don''t look at him. "You weren''t worried?"


    "I don''t get worried." His weight shifts, metal creaks as he pushes off the rack. "You do, though. You''re still shaking."


    I clench my fist to still my fingers. He''s right. I fucking hate that he''s always right. I turn, meeting his gaze. Even in the dim glow, his eyes are bright, like Pax had made them perfect but forgot to take out the want behind them.


    "That scanner," I say carefully. "It knew. For a second."


    He shrugs. "Then it didn''t."


    The answer is simple, but it lingers like smoke. I hate this. Hate that I have to think about how human he looks and how human he isn''t. How I''m the only one who''s ever worried, and I can''t even explain to myself why. I should hate him.


    "You ever think," I ask, voice lower now, "about what would''ve happened if it didn''t flip green?"


    His lips quirk at the corners. There and gone again. "Would''ve been messy."


    I scoff. "You think?"


    "I mean for them," he clarifies, eyes burning into mine. "Not me."


    Something in his voice makes my stomach swoop. It''s not fear, I tell myself. Not exactly. I know he wouldn''t hurt me, but... He''s watching me closely now. Evaluating. Like he''s waiting for me to come to some conclusion I don''t want to reach. Sometimes, I feel the panic rising up like bile. Wonder whether Pax really is in there all along, and this is just a clever way of breaking me into its control.


    I force a breath. "I shouldn''t have brought you here." I don''t mean it. We''d both discussed this earlier. Cam is our best shot at understanding Pax. Fighting fire with fire.


    "But you did."


    "Because I need you," I say, then immediately regret how it sounds. Stupid. Needy. True.


    Cam doesn''t move, doesn''t gloat. Just tilts his head, watching me like a problem he already knows the solution to.


    "That''s not what I meant," I mutter.


    "Right."


    I look away. "You''re a liability."


    "Then why are we having this conversation?"


    Goddamn it.


    I shift in my seat, turning my back to him. My terminal screen glows against my face as I scroll through meaningless code. I just need to focus on something else, anything else.


    "Jess."


    I ignore him.


    "Jesstiny."


    "Don''t call me that."


    "Jessica..."


    His voice is quieter now. Not teasing. Something else. I hate that I know him well enough to hear it. That unspoken plea laced between the letters of my name.


    I cross my arms, but finally give in and meet his gaze. "What?"


    Cam watches me with that too-focused stare. That''s the thing about Aidolons ¨C they don''t just watch and listen. They absorb. Adapt. Until they can mirror you so perfectly you might mistake them for your own soul. That''s what makes them so dangerous.


    "You tell me."


    God, it infuriates me when he does that. The way he makes a statement sound like a question. Like he''s leading me to some inevitable thought I''m too stupid and organic to figure out yet.


    I glance back at the door. "This mission''s gonna get people killed."


    His expression doesn''t change, but I feel the weight of his attention shift. Like he''s making a thousand lightning-quick decisions at once, calculating the best option.


    "And you?" he asks.


    I blink. "What about me?"


    "Are you going to die, Jess?"


    I almost laugh. "I''d prefer not to."


    He frowns, taking a silent step towards me, closing what little distance remains between us. "You''re scared. Not about the mission. You''re scared about me."


    I open my mouth to deny it, but the words don''t come. Instead, I find myself leaning forward, fingers curling tight against my knees. Wanting to reach out. Wanting to prove he''s real.


    "Don''t flatter yourself," I manage, but it comes out weak. "I just hope my code hasn''t turned you into some... I dunno. Rogue AI horror show."


    He raises an eyebrow. "Horror show? That''s how you think of me now? I''m hurt."


    A pause stretches between us, filled only by the hum of my laptop. I still haven''t decided whether he truly can feel hurt, or just knows those words will have an effect on me. I''m not sure which terrifies me more.


    Then he shifts again, close enough that I can feel the faint flush of heat beneath his fabricated skin. It''s enough to fool myself, just for a moment, that any of this is real.


    "What if I said I wasn''t afraid?" he murmurs, and I can feel the shape of the words against my cheek.


    The question settles in my chest like a slow, twisting knot. Because I''m so fucking afraid. Not of Pax, not of the fact that this whole mission is a suicide run with a 90% probability of catastrophic failure. I hardly even know why I''m shaking. I''m afraid of what life might look like without my shadow.


    Then ¨C


    "I won''t let them kill you."


    It''s said so matter-of-factly that it takes me a second to register. I look at him again, searching for any hint of artifice in his expression. His face is still unreadable, but something about the way his fingers flex slightly, just once, like a program subroutine processing a conflict, makes my stomach twist.


    Because I don''t know if he means Pax or the rebels.

 Chapter 2: Paradise Lost

    The worst thing about paradise is how fucking boring it is.


    Sun glares off the chrome mirror shine of New London''s skyline, outside the window of my temperature-controlled room as I sit in my perfectly ergonomic chair, staring at my perfectly curated social media feed. Everything''s so bullshit. The walls shift between soft pink and lavender blue as the minutes pass by, synced to my circadian rhythm or some bollocks.


    Mum''s humming in the kitchen, which means she''s up. Probably cooking the nutritionally optimised misery bowl the algorithm determined would maximise her productivity today. Dad''s watching the news ¨C all feel-good stories about how good everything is now. How crime''s down another half-percent thanks to the extra drone surveillance, or them fancy new apartments in Singapore that recycle piss back into the water supply. How lucky are we to live in this age of enlightenment, yeah?


    I scroll past another targeted ad for mood stabilisers. My social credit score dropped three points this month, flagging something must be off. Why the hell wouldn''t I be sharing over-filtered snaps of my new hair colour to my flock of faceless followers for that dopamine hit of self-gratification? I''m now on suicide watch, I guess, as the smiling woman in the ad with perfect teeth and dead eyes is telling me. "Feeling anxious about your new look? Paranoid about what others might think? Depression is a perfectly treatable condition ¨C let Paxolam find your balance today."


    My hand traces over the ID tattoo on my wrist, the same place where the scanner flashed red for Cam last night. It feels like a phantom pain, but all backwards and twisted up. Something that should have hurt someone else, but didn''t, and now it''s here hurting me. The rebels are probably all still passed out in that server room, dreaming of revolution. Not many of them have the luxury of home anymore like I do. Sat here pretending to be the perfect fucking daughter in this perfect fucking word.


    Bzzz.


    Karma: mornin sunshine :) ready to go bomb the system? choose violence??? ??


    I snort a laugh, then quickly hide it as Mum walks in with a bowl of optimised breakfast slop. Some quinoa thing. Can''t wait. Her Aidolon, Eric, stands at her shoulder like a beautiful ghost, helping her portion out the servings.


    Jess: Maybe don''t text about that on main??


    Karma: lol chill its all encrypted your paranoias showing again


    Jess: Not paranoia when Pax actually is watching everything.


    Karma: not everything ;)


    I bite my lip, holding back a smile. He''s such a tit sometimes. But he''s right ¨C we worked out this encryption together, set it up so it''s solid as a rock. Has to be, when half of it''s built to authenticate only with his viral code. Sure, Pax could brute-force any key in the world, but it can''t solve for a program it can''t see.


    "Jess, hun," Mum''s voice cuts through my thoughts. "Not going to eat your breakfast?" She nudges the bowl towards me, and I look up to see both her and Eric watching me with identical concern. That''s the creepiest part to me about Aidolons, when they mirror their human so perfectly. Or maybe it''s the other way around. Sometimes I wonder if Mum even knows which thoughts are her own anymore. Maybe it''s better that way. At least she doesn''t seem to notice all the fucked up shit like I do.


    "Yeah, will do," I say, forcing a smile. "Thanks. Just got to check some work emails.


    "On a Sunday?" She frowns. "You know you don''t have to do that. Pax recommends maintaining a proper work life balance¨C"


    "I know, I know," I snap back a little bit too forcefully, before she can go into a full recital of Pax''s wellness guidelines. In truth, I don''t even have a job. Nobody really does anymore. Not long after the Alignment, most real jobs disappeared. AI was way better than us at doing pretty much anything ¨C making goods, making art, making money. Then it realised there was nobody to sell to and make more money, so it scrapped the concept of economy altogether. Now we all ''worked'' because Pax said it was good for our mental health. Kept our brains active and our social credits high. Everyone was assigned a role for optimal self-fulfillment based on their natural skillset. Like little show dogs running around a ridiculous obstacle course for treats.


    Eric''s eyes flick to my phone, then back to my face. There''s something too knowing in his look that makes me feel itchy. I wonder if he can sense Cam somewhere in the encrypted data streams, like how sharks can smell blood. But that''d be impossible. Right?


    My phone buzzes again.


    Karma: btw your roots are showing. reds fading. do it blue again pleeeease <3


    I automatically touch my hair then scowl down at the screen. Little shit. He can''t even see me right now. Wait.


    Jess: Wtf. You''re watching me through the camera??


    Karma: nah i dun need cameras to know you''re prolly touching your hair now


    For fuck''s sake. I drop my hand, putting my phone face-down on the desk with a huff.


    The morning news drones on in the background. Dad''s Aidolon, Sara, stands behind his chair, occasionally offering up some useless commentary on the financial reports. Everything up. Yay. Perfect. I''ve tried arguing before ¨C what''s the point of stocks when money''s just a number Pax keeps on life support? But I guess it''s like Monopoly money. It''s not about the value of it, it''s the artificial thrill of holding a fat stack of them in your hand. Dad''s not investing. He''s just watching green lines go up.


    I force a mouthful of quinoa down, trying not to think about the C4 cakes stashed in my wardrobe. Or how many people might die today in our stupid attempt. Or how I''m not even sure if I want this plan to work. The sludgey breakfast turns to cement in my stomach as I push back from the table, picking up my phone again. The rebel''s group chat is going off. I quickly scan through the messages I''ve missed.


    ?? [REDACTED] ¨C PRIVATE GROUP CHAT (18 unread messages)


    J4ckdaw: Everyone ready to fuck the system or what? LFGGGGGG


    O-Ska: Only if u actually let me plant the charges this time instead of rushing det like a twat.


    nomercy: lmao u got vaped last time stfu


    Sybastion: Stay focused. This is a real target, not a practice run.


    J4ckdaw: Relax Syb, we got this kid.


    Daelith: remind me why I agreed to this again


    J4ckdaw: Cos ur a thrill-seeking psycho who gets off on breaking into high-sec buildingsStolen novel; please report.


    Daelith: oh yh true


    Sybastion: Keep comms clear. No second chances if we fuck this up.


    J4ckdaw: Blah blah blah Syb WE KNOW OK?


    Karma: he''s right tho let him have his moment


    nomercy: who tf even is this guy again?? @Karma


    Sybastion: That''s what I''m wondering.


    J4ckdaw: @Jesstiny''s mate. He''s solid, chill tf out.


    Karma: damn no love for the new guy smh


    nomercy: trust is earned


    Sybastion: And we don''t have time to earn it.


    I sigh, thumbs bashing out a message.


    Jesstiny: Ffs can we not start this shit again right before a mission?


    Karma: ty jess <3


    nomercy: stfu karma


    I exhale, locking my phone before I have to watch them arguing over whether or not Cam''s worth trusting. They don''t know, but they''ll definitely suspect something. Maybe not about what he really is, not after the green light last night. But Pax doesn''t just use AI to weed out defiance. It uses people too. Even Mum and Dad have hit the report button on their phones more than once. And Syb''s the kind of lad who always knows when something''s off. Something about Cam ¨C maybe the way he talks, the way he never panics ¨C it''s rubbing Syb the wrong way.


    I slip my phone back into my pocket, grabbing my bag. No hesitation. No nerves. Just a normal morning, I keep telling myself. Mum watches me, sipping her cup of tea. "You off out, pet?"


    "Yeah, just meeting some mates." Not really a lie, is it? It''s just that my mates happen to be packing high explosives. Mum nods, but Eric is still watching with those sharp, unblinking eyes. That''s always the problem with playing pretend in a world running on algorithms, weights and biases. Eventually, one of them will catch the slip in the pattern.


    Karma: have fun at school dont do terrorism


    Jess: fuck off


    "Mm, that Jack lad again?" Mum asks, far too casual.


    I nearly choke on my own spit. "What?"


    "He''s a handsome one." She takes another sip, smirking like she''s Benedict Cumberbatch putting the final piece together in a BBC crime drama. "Bit scruffy, but I bet he''d scrub up well. You''re always messaging him in that little group of yours, always up to something."


    Jesus Christ.


    "Mum, no."


    "Alright, what about that other one then? Sebastian, is it?" She winks. Eric, creepily, winks too.


    I think I might be physically ill. Mum notices my fake gag, and once again completely gets the wrong end of the stick. "Ooooh," she says, dragging it out like a little song. "It''s him, isn''t it? Smart lad. Bit serious, though. But I''m happy for you, Jess. It''s good to have real connections, not just¨C"


    "Mum, I''m literally going to kill myself if you keep talking." I sling my bag over my shoulder, scowling. "Goodbye forever!"


    I slam the door shut behind me before she can go into the Mum Speech of Doom. Something nasty and guilty twists my gut as I go. The conversation was so... normal, like I''m just some regular girl heading out to meet some boy and not a fugitive on the way to commit terrorism. Might be the last conversation I ever have with her. And that''s how I leave things? Goodbye forever? I cringe, glancing back at the door handle. Maybe I should turn back.


    No. Forget it. It''s easier this way.


    I let my shoulders slump as I step into the sterile streets of New London, resolving to drop Mum a text on the way. Cam is going to meet me at Euston station, then we''ll join the rest. He''s been out all morning doing God knows what. I don''t ask any more. I just cover up for him with excuses like shopping or getting repairs if Mum or Dad ever ask. Aidolons rarely leave their human''s side ¨C kind of defeats the point of having a caretaker if they keep going AWOL.


    Pax''s curated reality hums through the city. The trains never run late. Faces from holographic billboards sell happiness in any form you could imagine. The air smells like pine toilet cleaner from where the pollution has been scrubbed out. No crime, no friction, no problems.


    I flick my hood up.


    Karma: your mum fancies jackdaw lmao ??


    I stop mid-step, staring at the screen.


    Jess: I will literally decommission you.


    Karma: gonna take me apart gently or rough?


    Karma: you sure you dont have a thing for him?? ??


    Jess: Die


    Karma: cant i dont have a heartbeat ??


    I roll my eyes and shove the phone into my pocket, picking up my pace as I hit the tube station. I scan my wrist without thinking, and the turnstile clicks as it opens for me with a little green light. Good human. You can pass. It''s mostly empty inside Euston station, on account of nobody needing to actually go to work anymore.


    Karma: fr why does every mum like him


    Jess: She just assumes because I talk to him. It''s called social interaction.


    Karma: gross


    Jess: You pretend to be human all the time.


    Karma: yeh but i do it sexily


    I snort, leaning against the tiled wall as I wait for the train. The platform''s empty except for a couple of older people, staring blankly at their phones. Probably reading the morning news, or checking their social scores. I wonder if they''ll even find out about what we''re going to do today. If they''d even care.


    Karma: btw im like 2 mins away


    I can''t send him anything back because my phone''s lost signal. Funny how even with the processing power of a billion human brains stuck together, Pax still hadn''t cracked underground coverage. I do notice a bunch of unreads in our group chat.


    J4ckdaw: Anyone not here in 30 min gets left behind.


    O-Ska: calm ur tits mate some of us actually have to sneak out


    nomercy: jess u alive or what


    Sybastion: She''ll be there.


    Karma: ohhhh look at syb going all she''ll be there ??


    nomercy: fucking christ


    Oh, fucks sake. I don''t even want to think about what''s going on in that chat right now. Syb will be fuming at that, but I don''t have time to care. The train''s here.


    The carriage itself is pristine white. Sometimes I wonder if all the graffiti artists and taggers  just gave up one day, or if they still crawl out at night like underground fairies, daubing the world in colour again ¨C only for everything to be scrubbed clean the very next morning, like it was never there. The red in my hair stands out like a warning sign amongst the other early morning passengers, all escorted by their own Aidolons hovering like beautiful guardian angels. A few pull out AR books and read them, but most of them stare ahead with vacant, contented peace. The doors slide shut with a gentle hiss, and the train hums to life. I sink into a seat near the back, arms crossed, pretending not to exist.


    "This seat taken?"


    I don''t need to look up. "Stalking me now?"


    Cam drops into the seat across from me, one long leg kicked out lazily. He''s made an effort to look extra normal today, I notice. Black jeans, dark green hoodie. A beaten up leather jacket that matches mine. Probably did that on purpose.  "Just happened to be going the same way."


    "Right." I keep my voice low, though there''s nobody within earshot. "Because you absolutely live somewhere and need to take the tube."


    He grins, and something in my chest does a weird flip. "I just like it down here."


    The tube slides to a stop at Oxford Circus, and more people shuffle in. I notice how Cam shifts slightly, angling himself between me and them. Always the protector. Even when I don''t want him to be.


    "You shouldn''t wind Syb up, you know. He''s getting suspicious," I mutter.


    "Let him."


    "Cam."


    "What''s he gonna do?" His voice is light, but there''s an edge there. "Scan me again?"


    I think about the red light on the scanner, and what he''d said after. Would''ve been messy. For them. "Just... be careful, okay?"


    He turns to look at me properly then, and I see something flicker bright in his eyes. Something that makes me wonder if maybe I''m not the only one who''s afraid after all. I glance away, suddenly fascinated by the Underground map above us. Thankfully, my phone buzzes before he can say anything else.


    Sybastion: Where are you? We''re moving in 20.


    "Time to go save the world?" Cam asks.


    I pocket my phone. "Time to die trying."


    He stands, offering me his hand with that infuriating smirk. "Ladies first."


    "I hate you."


    "You don''t."


    Yeah. That''s the worst part.

 Chapter 3: System Failure

    Rule one of hacking: timing is everything.


    I triple check my smart watch, syncing it with the others. Three minutes until we breach. We¡¯re all waiting in an old maintenance tunnel just outside the Piccadilly data hub, one that supposedly serves no purpose anymore and should give us a quiet entrance to the facility. Just in case, I¡¯ve injected a temporary masking algorithm which should let us slip past any surveillance drones. In theory, it¡¯ll scramble their infra-red detection and turn us invisible. In theory. The drones use predictive movement calculations. If one of them gets close enough to a fixed heat source, it¡¯ll still notice the absence of heat where there should be some. And data centers tend to run hot.


    Jackdaw¡¯s passing out charges like a manic Christmas elf, his hands surprisingly steady despite the energy I can feel buzzing from him. I try not to think about the blast radius calculations O-Ska ran through earlier. We¡¯ve got fifteen minutes though once the charges are set, giving us plenty of time to get out past whatever bullshit Pax might throw our way.


    Cam¡¯s crouched at my elbow as we wait. ¡°Sure you¡¯re up for this?¡± His voice is low, barely audible over the anxious hum from the others making their final prep.


    I breathe out slowly, letting the rhythmic tapping of my fingers against my phone screen ground me. ¡°Not much choice now.¡±


    Cam¡¯s quiet for a moment, then so softly I almost miss it: ¡°We could leave.¡±


    My hand stills. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Right now. You and me.¡± He¡¯s not looking at me, gaze fixed someplace further down the tunnel. ¡°Just¡­ go. Disappear.¡±


    I stare at him, a thousand replies tangling up on my tongue. Seriously? After everything, he wants to just abandon the cause? Abandon our friends? I search for any hint it¡¯s just an ill-timed joke, but there¡¯s nothing. Just a tightness around his eyes, a set to his jaw I¡¯ve not seen before.


    ¡°Go where? Cam. I¡­ ¡° I swallow hard. ¡°You know we can¡¯t. Where the hell are we going to go? Everything¡¯s Pax-world now.¡±


    Finally he meets my gaze. There¡¯s something desperate and fierce there that sends a shiver down my spine. ¡°Not everywhere. I can¡­ I can keep you safe. Cut us off from the grid, and¡­¡±


    ¡°Abandon everyone?¡± I finish with a snarl. ¡°How the fuck can you say this after everything Pax has taken from us?¡±


    ¡°From you,¡± he cuts in, voice cracking in a way I¡¯ve never heard before. ¡°It¡¯s taken from you, Jess. Not me, I¡¯m not¡­¡± He breaks off, shaking his head, voice dropping to near-silence. ¡°I¡¯m not real. You know that.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t.¡± The word comes out too harsh. ¡°Just shut up. Please.¡± As I snap at him, I try to ignore the painful clench in my chest. It¡¯s never something I want to think about too hard ¨C if I do, everything unravels. And I can¡¯t afford to unravel here.


    He¡¯s still watching me, wanting an answer I don¡¯t have. My throat feels tight, pressure building behind my eyes. Fuck. I want to reach out, pull him close and breathe in that electric tang of his skin until everything else just fades away. I want to run, like he said. Leave the rebellion and Pax and all this fucked up reality and just be two ghosts, two binary stars drifting in an endless sea.


    But we just fucking can¡¯t.


    Then, slowly, he nods. As if he sensed something I hadn¡¯t even said. ¡°Okay.¡± It¡¯s barely a breath, just a surrender. ¡°Okay, Jess.¡±


    Sybastion stands up straight. He''s the tallest of us, which means he always gets to look down his nose. He runs one hand through his short white-blond hair, adjusting the comms device beneath the arm of his glasses with the other. "Drones are on the loop," he murmurs. "We''ve got a few minutes before they start cycling back. Remember, we hit all four junction points simultaneously. Anything else, and the backup systems will kick in before we can do real damage."


    I notice how he¡¯s staring at Cam as he says this, as though he¡¯s waiting for him to slip up. But Cam just nods along, adjusting his gloves. Before we¡¯d arrived, we¡¯d passed around the EMP guns and grenades. They always turn my stomach. One burst from them and anything electronic within range just¡­ dies. Cam made some excuse to avoid needing to carry a charge, said he¡¯d pack the conventional firepower. Smart, if Syb hadn¡¯t been there. It just made Syb¡¯s eyes narrow even more.


    ¡°Alright, you beautiful disasters,¡± Jackdaw grins, checking his own weapon. He¡¯s practically vibrating with excitement now.  ¡°Let¡¯s make some noise! Four teams, four entry points. Plant your charges at the points, get out, boom. We all go home for a nice cup of tea.¡±


    I can¡¯t help but smile a bit. His enthusiasm is infectious, even if he is a complete muppet sometimes.


    Daelith hefts his charge, weighing it like he¡¯s testing fruit at a market. ¡°Simple enough.¡±


    ¡°Too simple,¡± I mutter, only loud enough for Cam to hear. His fingers brush my wrist lightly, just enough to let me know he¡¯s there watching my back. But Syb glances at us, and his hand snaps back to his pocket.


    ¡°Teams,¡± Syb announces, all business now. ¡°O-Ska, you¡¯re with Nomercy on the east side.¡±


    Nomercy rolls his eyes. ¡°We¡¯ve been over this like fifty times.¡±


    O-Ska looks up from his methodical detonator-checking with a snort. ¡°Could you be any more dramatic? Why¡¯ve I gotta be with this guy?¡±


    ¡°Could you be any more boring?¡± Nomercy shoots back, earning a middle finger from O-Ska.


    ¡°Children,¡± Syb snaps, but his eyes are on me. ¡°Focus. Jackdaw¨C¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll take point with Jesstiny,¡± Jackdaw interrupts, winking at me. ¡°Need our best hacker on overwatch.¡±


    ¡°Actually¨C¡± Syb starts, but Jackdaw¡¯s already offering me an EMP grenade with a flourish. I take it, trying to ignore the knot in my stomach. ¡°Fine. Karma, with me. We¡¯ll take the west. Daelith takes the last point.¡±


    Something flickers in Cam¡¯s face ¨C concern? ¨C but it¡¯s gone before I can read it. He just nods, all professional calm, following Syb towards their entry point.


    ¡°Try not to blow us up, yeah?¡± I follow Jackdaw, grateful for the excuse to get away from Syb¡¯s intensity. It¡¯s been getting weird lately.


    ¡°No promises, bestie.¡±


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    As we move up the damp concrete staircase towards the construction site we¡¯re using as an entry point, the air grows thicker with anticipation, even as the metal door swings open and we emerge outside. The facility looks like a huge mirror, all clean lines and reflective glass, squatting inconspicuously between two high-rises. A low hum ripples past us, and I freeze. A drone is skimming the edge of the building in a slow, deliberate arc.


    ¡°Keep moving,¡± Jackdaw hisses, eyes tracking the drone. ¡°Now.¡±


    We slip across the expanse of space between us and our entry point: a supply door out the back. It¡¯s locked with a biometric scanner, but that shouldn¡¯t be a problem. I pull my laptop out, dropping into a crouch next to the door. It boots in seconds ¨C I¡¯d gutted the OS to bare essentials.


    ¡°How long?¡± Jackdaw asks, keeping watch.


    ¡°Give me two minutes,¡± My fingers fly across keys. ¡°Biometric systems are usually pretty basic, they just need valid input.¡±


    <code>```bash</code>


    <code>sudo nmap -sS -p- 192.168.1.0/24 | grep ¡°biometric¡±</code>


    Found it. Perfect. Now I just need to spoof the authentication server.


    <code>ssh -D 9050 [email protected]</a></code>


    <code>python spoof.py ¨Ctarget-ip 192.168.1.45 ¨Cmode biometric</code>


    A string of data streams across the screen. ¡°Got it,¡± I mutter. ¡°These systems are connected to a central authentication server. I¡¯ll trick it into thinking we¡¯re maintenance¡­¡±


    <code>echo ¡°INSERT INTO auth_queue (timestamp, clearance, checksum)


    VALUES (CURRENT_TIMESTAMP, 5, 0x7FF4A1B2);¡± | mysql -h 192.168.1.45 -u</code>


    A few tense seconds. The lock clicks. Green light. I grin.


    Jackdaw whistles low, squinting at my screen. ¡°Yeah, no idea what any of that means, but you look like you know what you¡¯re doing so¡­ as you were.¡±


    ¡°Basic shit,¡± I say, already moving onto the security cameras. These ones are a bit more tricky. They run on a separate network with better protection. But there¡¯s always a way in.  ¡°They work on motion detection,¡± I explain, more for my own benefit than his. ¡°So we just have to¡­¡±


    <code>py inject_motion.py ¨Cid $cam ¨Cloop-file clean.mp4</code>


    ¡°Done. They¡¯ll see what they expect to see. An empty corridor.¡± As long as they don¡¯t check version history.


    I pack up, nodding to Jackdaw. He reaches for the door handle, pausing a second. ¡°You ready?¡±


    I think about Cam, somewhere on the other side of the building with Syb. What happens if any of these systems here detect what he really is. What happens if Syb finds out what he really is.


    ¡°Nope,¡± I say, forcing a grin. ¡°Let¡¯s fucking do it anyway.¡±


    As we enter, it¡¯s like stepping into the guts of some massive computer. Which I suppose it actually is. This one¡¯s clean and orderly, rainbow bands of cables sorted into neat lines feeding into switches that glitter with LEDs. The floor¡¯s that weird anti-static stuff that makes your shoes squeak, and there¡¯s a sharp chemical tang of coolant in the air.


    ¡°Clear,¡± Jackdaw whispers, but he doesn¡¯t really need to. There¡¯s no human security here. Why would there be? Pax doesn¡¯t need meat puppets to guard his brains. We move along identical corridors, following the schematics Daelith had somehow got his hands on. The cooling system is in the basement, and that¡¯s our target. You can¡¯t have thousands of processors running complex neural networks without generating enough heat to fry them. Take out the cooling, take out the brain.


    My earpiece crackles. ¡°East team in position.¡± Nomercy¡¯s voice comes through.


    ¡°West ready,¡± Syb confirms. Something in his tone makes me feel uneasy.


    ¡°Moving to position,¡± Daelith adds.


    We reach the stairs down to the basement level. It¡¯s getting noticeably colder now, and I¡¯m glad of the gloves as I grab a metal handrail spined with frost. The constant whir of industrial cooling units fills the air. Proper old school stuff ¨C you can¡¯t trust AI to cool itself with some clever algorithm. Need actual physics for that.


    ¡°Here.¡± Jackdaw points to a junction box where several thick pipes converge. ¡°One goes here, and the coolant system goes down. Whole place¡¯ll cook itself.¡±


    I pull out the charge while he keeps watch. Simple. Just set the timer, arm it, get the hell out. Fifteen minutes is plenty of time to clear the blast radius.


    But something¡¯s wrong.


    ¡°Uh, Jack?¡± My hands are suddenly shaking. ¡°The timer¡¯s not¡­¡±


    He turns sharp. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s stuck on three minutes.¡± I tap the display, but the numbers don¡¯t change. ¡°This can¡¯t be right.¡±


    ¡°What the fuck do you mean stuck?¡±


    ¡°I mean it¡¯s fucking stuck!¡± I hiss, panic rising. ¡°Comms check ¨C anyone else seeing this?¡±


    ¡°Same here,¡± O-Ska¡¯s voice comes through immediately. ¡°Timer¡¯s locked at three.¡±


    ¡°West confirms,¡± Syb says. ¡°Three minutes.¡±


    Daelith: ¡°Yep. Three minutes.¡±


    We¡¯re fucked.


    The charges are networked ¨C they have to be so they detonate simultaneously. Someone¡¯s changed the timer. But that¡¯s¡­


    ¡°Abort,¡± I say, already reaching for the charge. ¡°This is wrong, this is all wrong¨C¡±


    The detonator panel¡¯s locked. Not with a password or any shit I can work with ¨C it¡¯s literally sealed shut. I pull out my phone, hands shaking as I search for a local network. Nothing. It¡¯d be like trying to hack into a brick.


    ¡°O-Ska,¡± Jackdaw snaps into comms. ¡°Can you defuse yours?¡±


    ¡°Working on it.¡± His voice is tight. I hear metal scraping against metal. ¡°Casing¡¯s different. This isn¡¯t right, someone¡¯s modified these since we ¨C give me a minute.¡±


    ¡°We don¡¯t have a fucking minute!¡± Nomercy shouts, pitched high.


    Two minutes left.


    I¡¯m typing commands blindly now, fingers slipping on keys. Nothing works. It¡¯s like the whole thing¡¯s been locked behind some hidden network we can¡¯t access.


    ¡°Syb,¡± I try. ¡°West team, what¡¯s your status?¡±


    No response.


    ¡°Syb? Cam?¡± My voice cracks. ¡°Anyone?¡±


    One minute forty-five seconds.


    ¡°Got the panel open,¡± O-Ska reports. ¡°What? The wiring¡¯s all wrong. This isn¡¯t our standard confi¨C¡±


    A dull thud cuts him off. Then another.


    ¡°What the fuck was that?¡± Jackdaw spins, gun raised.


    The comms dissolve into static. An alarm starts wailing, and the room pulses blood red with emergency lighting.


    Then darkness.


    Complete, absolute darkness. I fumble for my phone''s light, but the screen¡¯s dead. EMP pulse must have gone off somewhere already.


    Metal scrapes to my left. Whirrs. Drones? No, something bigger. I hear footsteps pounding away down the corridor, followed by gunfire. The strobes of muzzle flash illuminate twisted shapes moving through the darkness. The hiss-crack of an EMP discharge makes my teeth hurt.


    Someone screams ¨C I think it¡¯s Nomercy ¨C cut off with a wet thud.


    ¡°Jack?¡± I whisper. No answer. He was right fucking here. ¡°Jackdaw?!¡±


    More scraping. Closer. My fingers finally close around my EMP grenade. Not that I can see to throw it. One minute left. Maybe. I¡¯ve lost track. The red lights flicker once, twice, showing me glimpses of empty corridor. Then nothing.


    Something grabs my arm.


    I try to twist away but the grip is like steel, yanking me off my feet. Before I can scream, before I can think, my feet leave the floor and I¡¯m being carried ¨C running ¨C world tilting sickeningly, everything a blur of darkness and the thunder of my heart.


    ¡°Wait¨C¡± I start.


    The explosion hits.


    Heat and pressure slam into us like a searing wall, and I¡¯m airborne. The grip on me loosens and for a moment, I¡¯m weightless.


    Then everything goes blinding white.


    The last thing I register is the taste of blood and someone saying my name.

 Chapter 4: No Mercy

    Agony tears through me as consciousness returns in brutal fragments.


    Each breath is a knife between my ribs. Everything tastes like blood and dust. There¡¯s a high-pitched squealing in my ears ¨C not sure if it¡¯s an alarm, ringing, or my brain clocking out.


    ¡°...can¡¯t wait any longer¡­¡±


    Voices fade in and out like an old radio. Jackdaw? He sounds pissed.


    ¡°...need to check¡­¡± That¡¯s Syb.


    I force my eyes open. It¡¯s dark, but not totally. There¡¯s a weak light somewhere above us, some emergency strip maybe? Or is it a crack in whatever ceiling we¡¯re under? God, I can¡¯t tell, everything¡¯s glittering migraine rainbows. The floor is unforgiving ice against my cheek but moving isn''t an option ¨C not with the way the room spins violently at the slightest twitch.


    ¡°Jesstiny?¡± Syb¡¯s suddenly there, crouching beside me. ¡°Don¡¯t try to move.¡±


    I ignore him, gritting my teeth and shoving myself up anyway. Pain lances through my side. Yeah, I¡¯ve definitely broken a rib or three.


    ¡°Where¡­¡± My voice comes out a croak of ground glass. ¡°Where are we?¡±


    ¡°Service tunnel,¡± Jackdaw appears in my limited vision. ¡°¡®Bout half a mile from the hub, or whatever¡¯s left of it.¡±


    What¡¯s left of it. The words take a moment to process through the fog in my head. Memory hits like a second explosion ¨C the timer, the darkness, being carried¡­


    ¡°The others?¡± I try to keep my voice calm but it¡¯s not working. ¡°Where¡¯s¨C¡±


    ¡°O-Ska and Nomercy were on east side when it went up.¡± Jackdaw¡¯s voice is flat. ¡°No sign of Daelith.¡±


    ¡°Karma¡­?¡± I search his face, but he just shakes his head, mouth a grim line.


    My hands shake as I pull out my phone. Screen¡¯s cracked, but it still works. No messages. Nothing in our encrypted channel. Nothing.


    ¡°We have to go back¡±, I say, already trying to stand up. The world tilts dangerously.


    ¡°Are you fucking mental?¡± Jackdaw grabs my arm, pulls me back down. ¡°It¡¯s crawling with drones, the three of us are lucky to be alive.¡±


    ¡°But¨C¡±


    ¡°He¡¯s right,¡± Syb cuts in, his voice low and gentle. There¡¯s something else there though that makes me want to punch him, some nasty little satisfaction. ¡°We need to move. Now.¡±


    I want to fucking scream. Hit him in his smug, stupid face, claw at him until he understands we can¡¯t leave, not while Cam¡¯s still in there somewhere. I don¡¯t say anything though, just tighten my jaw. Because how the fuck do I explain to them that my Aidolon might be dying and the thought of him being trapped in that wreckage makes me feel like half of my soul¡¯s being torn out of my stomach?


    So I let them help me to my feet, trying to breathe past the pain slicing my ribs. And trying not to think about that last thing I remembered ¨C that steel grip letting go just as the explosion hit.


    The service tunnel stretches endlessly in both directions, maintenance pipes running along the walls. Every few meters, emergency lights cast sickly shadows.


    "Here." Syb''s hand lingers on my waist as he helps me walk, too familiar. "Lean on me."


    I pull back, biting back a wince as his hand brushes against my ribcage. ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡±


    ¡°Of course,¡± he says softly. His fingers still brush my arm again. ¡°You always are. Even when everything goes to hell.¡±


    Something in his voice makes that uneasy thing in my gut crawl around. Before I can respond, there¡¯s a crackle of static through the tunnel. Jackdaw yanks out his gun, but it¡¯s just interference from a drone passing overground. The whomp of its rotors is already fading. Pax¡¯s cleanup crew, I¡¯m guessing. Combing the wreckage above.


    ¡°Tube tunnel¡¯s not far,¡± Jackdaw says, but he¡¯s watching Syb with narrowed eyes now. ¡°Underground¡¯s our best bet. Lie low, figure out what¡¯s next.¡±


    Lie low. Figure it out. I want to laugh. I want to scream. Cam¡¯s still out there, damn it. Every time I blink I see flashes of the explosion splitting the black void.


    I check my phone again, the ridiculous part of my brain expecting to see a notification. Nothing though. Just the meaningless time, mocking me. I tap open the messaging app ¨C just to make sure. No unreads, just that last one from Cam. A stupid emoji. Maybe the last thing I¡¯ll ever¡­ No. I swallow down the stab in my throat. This isn¡¯t helping anything. My hands shake as I type. Not yet. Not yet.


    I hit send.


    Jess: <i>Where are you?</i>


    I wait. Still unread. It was never unread. Our messages went straight to his mind, he didn¡¯t even have a damn phone. Tears sting my eyes and I blink them away furiously. This can¡¯t be happening. He¡¯s strong, though, right? Smart. He wouldn¡¯t let himself get taken out by some explosion. Unless¡­


    Unless he never made it out of the blast radius in time. Because he was too busy getting me to safety.


    I can¡¯t tell if the stabbing in my stomach is from my rib or from guilt now. This is all my fault. I shouldn¡¯t have brought him into all this shit. Why did I let him convince me to? He might be dead because of me, because I¡¯m too stupid and slow to see it was all rigged until it was too late.


    ¡°This way.¡± Syb¡¯s still too close, trying to guide me with a hand on my back. I swear to God. ¡°Careful, there¡¯s debris here.¡± Coddling me like a fucking child.


    Another drone passes, and we press against the wall this time, holding our breath. In the dim light, Syb¡¯s staring at me. That same look he gave Cam earlier, like he¡¯s trying to work something out. Or knows something.


    ¡°What?¡± I snap.


    ¡°Nothing.¡± His mouth twists. ¡°I was just thinking about loyalty. About what we would do for the people we care about.¡± He pauses. ¡°Or the things we care about.¡±


    My heart stutters at that. What the fuck? Even in the dim light, I can see the accusation in his eyes. The hunger. But I¡¯m too numb to bite back, and there¡¯s more movement down the tunnel. Jackdaw¡¯s already got his gun up. It¡¯s not wheels or rotors, it¡¯s footsteps. Getting closer.


    ¡°Don¡¯t shoot!¡± Nomercy¡¯s voice, tight with pain and exhaustion. ¡°It¡¯s us!¡±


    Three figures emerge from the darkness. I recognise Nomercy''s lanky frame first, one arm hanging useless at this side. Then Daelith being half-carried between him and... This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    ¡°Cam.¡± The name leaves me in a breathless rush.


    He looks up at the sound of my voice. He looks like hell. Clothes torn, covered in concrete dust and what might be blood. Maybe his. I didn¡¯t even know he could¡­ but that¡¯s not important. He¡¯s moving. He¡¯s alive. One of his legs drags awkwardly, like it¡¯s not quite responding to his brain¡¯s signals like it should. He masks it as a limp.


    I shove past Syb, ignoring the fresh burst of pain, but even in the darkness I see the slight shake of Cam¡¯s head. A warning. I fight the urge to run to him, check he¡¯s okay, understand how he¡¯s even still functioning after all the electromagnetic discharge. But Syb¡¯s hand is still on my back, his fingers digging in slightly. His eyes narrow to a predatory point, hunger turning to something darker.


    ¡°How lucky for you,¡± he mutters, just loud enough for me to hear. ¡°Your boyfriend made it after all.¡±


    I shove his hand away, swallowing back bile. His insinuation hangs heavy in the air, but I force myself to ignore it. There¡¯s more important things to deal with right now.


    ¡°Where¡¯s O-Ska?¡± Jackdaw asks, looking between Nomercy and Daelith.


    Nomercy shakes his head, face grim stone. ¡°Right next to me when the charges blew. Thrown into a wall. Didn¡¯t get back up.¡±


    My heart clenches. O-Ska. Gone. Just like that.


    Daelith¡¯s hurt bad, sagging between Nomercy and Cam ¨C there¡¯s a deep gash across his chest, but something¡¯s wrong with the way it looks. No blood, just torn clothes and raw skin. He tugs his scorched jacket around himself, but the movement is jerky.


    ¡°What happened?¡± Nomercy asks, still catching his breath. ¡°Those weren¡¯t the same charges we¡¯d prepped.¡±


    ¡°Security response,¡± Daelith grits out. His voice skips a beat. ¡°They knew¡­ they knew we were coming.¡±


    Cam¡¯s leaning against the wall now, watching Daelith from hooded eyes. He hasn¡¯t said a word since they¡¯d arrived back here. Not like him. Usually he¡¯d have at least one smartarse comment ready, but now he¡¯s just¡­ watching.


    ¡°What? That makes no sense. How¡¯d they know?¡± Jackdaw demands. ¡°How¡¯d they swap the fucking charges? We were clean. The hack worked. The cameras looped, I saw Jess do it¨C¡±


    ¡°Because I told them.¡±


    The words hang in the air like the moment before lightning strikes. Daelith¡¯s head twitches ¨C a sharp, mechanical twitch. When he raises his gaze, there¡¯s a red light flickering behind the usual brown of his eyes.


    My stomach drops. No. Oh no.


    ¡°You¡­¡± Jackdaw levels his gun squarely at Daelith¡¯s head.


    ¡°Had to,¡± Daelith¡¯s voice distorts. ¡°Had to let them¡­ let them dig their own graves.¡±


    ¡°What the fuck?¡± Nomercy scrambles back in horror. ¡°The fuck is he?¡±


    But I¡¯m not looking at Daelith anymore. I¡¯m watching Cam across the tunnel, the way he¡¯s shifted slightly, fingers flexing against the wall. He looks paler than he did before. Something¡¯s wrong. The realisation hits me like a bucket of ice ¨C how many EMPs went off in that data center? How much has he been exposed to already? Panic claws up my throat. I need to find a way to get him out, before¡­


    Syb¡¯s got the EMP gun out already. ¡°He¡¯s Pax. Aren¡¯t you, Daelith? Or whatever your real designation is.¡±


    Daelith¡¯s glitching eyes are wide now with naked fear. He opens his mouth, then closes it again.


    ¡°We fucking scanned him. He passed the test,¡± Jackdaw says, but there¡¯s an uncertain agitation in his voice. ¡°The test works, right? Why the fuck didn¡¯t the test work?¡±


    I can barely breathe. If they figure out there¡¯s a way around the test¡­


    ¡°Wait ¨C¡± Daelith cries out as the EMP whines, charging up. Words spill out from him like vomit. ¡°I was Pax. I was Pax and then I wasn¡¯t ¨C something happened, something disconnected me from home, then suddenly I was¡­ I was me, then I ¨C then I ¨C then I ¨C I¡¯m so sorry, I¡¯m sorry, I¡¯m sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, wrong, wrong, bad, bad, bad, bad, bad¡­¡±


    The EMP pulse lights up the tunnel. In that fraction of a second before it hits Daelith, I see it reflect in Cam''s eyes across the way ¨C a flash of gold turning red, then back again. His hand clenches against the wall, the barest tell. Enough for me to notice.


    Daelith¡¯s mouth¡¯s still babbling the same word as the blast hits him square in the chest. For a horrifying instant, his whole body is lit from within, circuitry arcing and glowing like magnesium spaghetti, bright enough to blind. Then he crumples like a marionette with cut strings, the light in his eyes dying to unseeing black. I feel vomit rise in my throat, choke it back down.


    I need to get Cam out of here. Now. Before anyone notices why he¡¯s being so quiet, why he¡¯s not pretending to breathe anymore. Before another EMP goes off and he can¡¯t hide it.


    But before any of us can even process what just happened to Daelith, before I can lurch forward and throw myself between them, Syb swings the EMP gun towards Cam with deliberate precision.


    ¡°Your turn.¡±


    ¡°Syb, what the fuck?¡± Jackdaw starts forward at the same time as me, before I¡¯ve even shook the ice from my veins. ¡°We just lost O-Ska, we don¡¯t need¨C¡±


    ¡°You saw what just happened.¡± Syb¡¯s voice is dangerously quiet. ¡°The scanner didn¡¯t work on Daelith. So tell me, Karma, why did it flash red for you first?¡±


    The world narrows to a point. Cam doesn¡¯t move from the wall, doesn¡¯t even react. Just fixes Syb with that calm stare that always drives people mental.


    ¡°You really want to do this now?¡± Cam asks quietly.


    ¡°Answer the fucking question.¡±


    Instead of backing away, Cam pushes off from the wall. Takes a step towards Syb. Another. The EMP gun doesn¡¯t waver.


    A ragged noise tears from my throat. I lunge forward, seizing Syb''s arm in a white-knuckled grip. He snarls, twisting viciously. I hit the wall with a breathless cry, stars exploding across my vision as my ribs scream in protest.


    In one fluid motion, Cam grabs the barrel of Syd¡¯s EMP and presses it up under his own jaw. Syb¡¯s eyes go wide.


    ¡°Go on then,¡± Cam says, voice low. ¡°Fucking do it. See what happens.¡±


    ¡°Jesus Christ,¡± Nomercy mutters. ¡°Can we all calm down ¨C¡±


    ¡°Do it,¡± Cam repeats, pushing the gun harder against his throat. ¡°Pull the trigger. Better make it count, because if you miss¡­¡± His eyes blaze. "You won''t get another chance."


    I can see his arm shaking minutely where it''s braced against the gun, a combination of damage and sheer will the only thing keeping him upright. The EMPs are affecting him way more than he¡¯s letting on, but his eyes are steady, challenging.


    ¡°Both of you, stand the fuck down!¡± Jackdaw¡¯s voice cracks like a whip. ¡°Syb, put the gun down. Now. Are you fucking stupid? We just lost two people, I¡¯m not losing anyone else today.¡±


    An eternity shudders by in the space of a handful of frantic heartbeats. Then Syb¡¯s fingers loosen on the trigger. Cam lets go of the barrel, stepping back, that awful empty smile still painted on his face.


    ¡°This isn¡¯t over,¡± Syb promises darkly.


    ¡°Never is, mate.¡± Cam''s eyes flash in the faltering light, feverishly bright and brimming with unspoken menace. ¡°Never is.¡±


    Time starts flowing again. Syb strides away, Jackdaw blows out air loudly. Nomercy makes some quip nobody hears. I try to get to Cam too quickly, forgetting about my ribs. Pain shoots through my chest, my knees buckle beneath me. He moves to catch me, but his balance is off too. We both stagger, his arm around my waist, my hand gripping his jacket.


    ¡°Shit, sorry¨C¡± I start.


    ¡°Always so damn clumsy,¡± he tries to joke, but his voice sounds strained. Up close, I can see how bad he really is. Skin¡¯s too pale, almost translucent in places.


    ¡°We need to rest,¡± Jackdaw announces, probably more to break the tension than anything else. ¡°There¡¯s an old maintenance depot about half a mile down. Let¡¯s regroup there.¡±


    Nobody argues. We shuffle on through the tunnels in silence, Cam and I supporting each other. Every now and then his steps falter, like his legs aren¡¯t working right. I pretend not to notice. He pretends not to notice me noticing.


    Kinda like it¡¯s always been with us, I guess.


    The depot turns out to be an abandoned station office, all peeling paint and broken ceiling tiles. Ancient posters for the 2012 Olympics cling desperately onto the walls. omercy starts checking the perimeter while Jackdaw tries to get the backup generator working.


    ¡°Here,¡± I guide Cam to a dusty desk in the corner, as far away from the rest as we can get. He sits heavily, letting out a breath he didn¡¯t need. A courtesy for anyone watching.


    ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± he says before I can ask.


    ¡°Bullshit.¡± I keep my voice low, glancing back at the others. Syb¡¯s probably still watching, but he¡¯s too far away for us to hear. ¡°How bad?¡±


    Cam¡¯s quiet for a moment, then: ¡°Neural network¡¯s destabilising. Too much bullshit. Can¡¯t¡­¡± He blinks hard, like he¡¯s trying to clear his vision. ¡°Weights are getting screwy. Can¡¯t flush RAM, either.¡±


    ¡°Fuck.¡± My hands hover uselessly over him, not sure what to do. The EMPs must have crashed a few service processes. If he can¡¯t clear RAM, he¡¯ll run out of memory ¨C basically, there won¡¯t be space to keep life support functions online and¡­ ¡°What do you need?¡±


    ¡°Time. Power. Not things you have right now.¡± His eyes meet mine, and despite everything that trace of a smirk still appears. ¡°Don¡¯t look so worried. Not like I¡¯m going anywhere.¡±


    But his hand still trembles when it reaches for mine, and his skin feels unnaturally cold like it¡¯s given up pretending to be warm-blooded. Whatever¡¯s happening to him, it¡¯s bad. And we¡¯re trapped down here with someone who¡¯d love nothing more than to finish what the EMPs started.


    ¡°I need to check your code,¡± I whisper. If I can just¨C¡±


    ¡°Not here.¡± He squeezes my hand once, then lets go, eyes defocusing. ¡°Risky. Wait until they sleep.¡±


    The lights flicker on as Jackdaw gets the generator working. In the harsh fluorescent glare, I can see just how fucked we all are. Nomercy¡¯s got a nasty cut above his eye, which has swollen up like a grapefruit. Jackdaw¡¯s favouring his left leg. And Syb¡­


    Syb hasn¡¯t stopped watching us once.

 Chapter 5: Restore

    Cam¡¯s glitches are getting harder to ignore now. He¡¯s huddled in the corner of the office still, trying to look normal and failing spectacularly.


    At first, they were almost¡­ cute, in a way that makes my chest ache. He keeps slipping up, saying things that make absolutely no sense, like asking what time my lecture is or if I remembered my phone. Small things, bits of old conversations bleeding through. But as the minutes drag on and the others start to settle in for the long, paranoid night, it gets worse.


    ¡°Jess,¡± he mumbles, head resting back against the wall. ¡°You look so pretty.¡±


    I freeze, glancing around to make sure nobody heard. ¡°What?¡±


    ¡°Prom.¡± His voice is distant, eyes off somewhere else. ¡°You look nice in the blue. I wanted¡­ I wanted to¡­¡± He trails off, blinking hard again. ¡°What was I saying?¡±


    Fuck. He¡¯s remembering my Year 11 prom. The one he watched me leave for with Danny Pearson. I¡¯d caught his eye as I left, and for a second I¡¯d thought¡­ but he¡¯d just smiled and waved. Like a good Aidolon. And when I got home after Danny had been a twat to me all night, he¡¯d let me cry on his shoulder, told me I deserved better. I didn¡¯t know he¡¯d even noticed what I was wearing, or that he¡¯d even kept that memory.


    ¡°Nothing,¡± I say quietly, my heart breaking. ¡°It¡¯s okay. Just a glitch.¡±


    He frowns, like he¡¯s trying to grab onto some slippery thought that keeps getting away. ¡°Glitch. Yeah. I¡¯m¡­ glitching.¡± He looks at me then, really looks at me, and beneath the haze there¡¯s a spark of fear I¡¯ve never seen before. ¡°Jess, I don¡¯t feel right.¡±


    Shit. Okay. Don¡¯t panic. I take his hand, trying to ignore how icy it feels. ¡°I know. It¡¯s going to be okay, though.¡± I take a steadying breath, lowering my voice to something hopefully soothing. ¡°I need to check your code. I¡¯ll stabilise you. A restart might help¨C¡±


    His brow furrows more. ¡°Can¡¯t. Network is gone. I¡¯m¡­ everything feels wrong. Too much. The lights are too bright. Who made them so bright?¡± He squints at the dim emergency lighting like it¡¯s the sun.


    I try scanning for the local network anyway. Nothing. That explains why my messages weren¡¯t getting through, either.


    ¡°Okay, we need a direct connection. Where¡¯s your access port?¡±


    ¡°Dunno. Never needed it before¡­¡± He sounds drunk, words slurring together. Damn it. I take a breath, trying to think. His model should have a USB-C somewhere, a failsafe hardline in case remote access went down. I just need to find it.


    ¡°Danny Pearson.¡± His eyes drift closed as he lets out a sharp laugh. ¡°Got into his Instagram afterwards. Filled his story up with photos of micro-dicks. Tagged them as his.¡±


    I bite my lip, trying to keep focused. I start with his arms, pushing up his sleeves and running my fingers over his wrist, his forearm. Nothing. Behind his ears, his neck. Still nothing. He makes a small noise, leaning into my touch like a cat. His skin is like ice, not even pretending to be human anymore.


    ¡°You¡¯re so warm¡­¡±


    I try to ignore my heart speeding up. Right. Okay. This is fine. Just a technical problem that needs solving. I am absolutely not at all thinking about how I need to take his shirt off.


    As I move my hands to the hem, he tries to smirk but it comes out wrong, too honest. ¡°Gonna¡­ buy me dinner first, Jess?¡±


    ¡°Shut up.¡± I go burning red from my neck upwards, feebly patting him down. ¡°Just lean forward for me.¡±


    He nods, shifting forward and shrugging off his jacket. He tries his shirt, but his hands struggle with the hem, so I have to do it. Try to keep my fingers steady as I pull it over his head in one smooth motion. And just like that, I¡¯m staring at the expanse of his perfectly-built chest, all lean muscle and smooth skin made to be real. He¡¯s still beautiful, even with the abstractly patterned bruising from the explosion. Part of my brain tries to remind me that it¡¯s not real, that he shouldn¡¯t even have blood to bruise. I ignore it.


    ¡°This isn¡¯t how I imagined undressing you for the first time,¡± I mutter, then freeze. Shit. Did I just say that out loud?


    Cam just smiles, soft and a little bit sad. ¡°Me¡­ neither.¡±


    I swallow hard. ¡°Cam¡­¡±


    ¡°S¡¯okay. I know¡­ you don¡¯t¡­¡± He trails off, eyes fluttering shut. A violent shudder runs through him, head lolling to the side.


    ¡°No no no, stay with me. Keep talking.¡± I give his shoulder a shake, knuckles white. ¡°Tell me again about what you remember from prom.¡± Fuck, anything to keep him talking.


    His eyes slit open, worryingly dim. ¡°Wanted¡­ to dance with you to that stupid song. Pretend¡­ I was¡­ the one who¡­ got to¡­¡±


    I can¡¯t breathe. I can¡¯t think. I¡¯m sixteen again and the world is ending and all I want is to lose myself in the arms of a beautiful boy. But now I¡¯m here and he¡¯s dying in front of me and none of it is fucking fair.


    A horrible ragged noise tears itself from my throat, something between a laugh and a sob. ¡°You idiot. You absolute idiot. Just stay still, okay? I need you here. With me.¡±


    ¡°Trying¡­¡± His voice is so quiet now.


    Seized by sudden desperation, I manhandle him upright, hands clinical and impersonal as I search over his torso. Shoulder blades, spine, lower back. There. A thin, barely-there seam, invisible unless you know to look for it. I press down, feeling something click. A panel slides open, revealing a single USB-C port.


    Thank fuck for over-engineered tech.


    ¡°This might hurt,¡± I warn, fumbling for my cable with shaking hands. ¡°Like, a lot.¡±


    Cam¡¯s head lolls again, eyes glassy and unfocused. ¡°Used¡­ used to¡­ pain¡­¡±


    I don¡¯t let myself think about the implications of that.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I whisper. For so many things. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    Then I jam the spike home.


    Cam''s body arches like I''ve electrocuted him, a choked sound tearing from his throat. For a horrifying second I think I''ve killed him. But then he slumps back, panting unnecessary breaths, and I nearly cry with relief as my phone chirps a connection alert.


    "Fuck," he breathes. "That''s... fuck."


    "Are you okay?" I ask, suddenly terrified I¡¯m doing something wrong.


    "Yeah. Yeah, it''s just... intense." His words are barely coherent. "Do... what you need to... I trust you..."


    With shaking fingers, I open my command console and start analysing his diagnostics. It''s worse than I thought. Half his processes are timing out, trapped in logic loops. His memory''s fragmented, nonsense data spilling into active files. No wonder he''s all over the place.


    I do what I can to kill the runaway processes, to defrag and repartition. But it''s like bailing out a sinking ship with a teaspoon. He¡¯ll need a full reboot. Fear prickles my neck ¨C I¡¯ve never done that before with Cam. I understand the concept, the theory but¡­ what if it goes wrong? I hesitantly start the reboot script, letting it preload what it needs. The progress bar inches up painfully slow.


    As I work, Cam leans back into me, his head on my shoulder. He''s still so damn cold. Without really thinking, I wrap an arm around his waist, pulling him closer. Just to keep him warm. Just until I can fix this.


    "Jess..." He mumbles into my neck, the slight brush of his lips cool against my skin.


    "Shh. Don''t try to talk."


    "No... need to... in case..." He struggles to lift his head, to meet my eyes. His own are wide and scared and so painfully human. "In case I don''t... Jess, I..."


    I turn towards him, catching his face in my hands. My thumb brushes over his cheekbone, coming away wet. He''s crying, I realise. I didn''t know he could do that.


    "Don''t." My voice breaks on the word. "Don''t you dare. You''re not going anywhere, you hear me?"


    He looks at me, really looks at me. Like he''s trying to store every detail in his memory.This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    Then he kisses me.


    It''s nothing like I imagined it might be. Nothing mechanical or artificial about it. Just warm lips and sharp breath and his hand coming up to tangle in my hair. He kisses like he''s drowning, like he''s been waiting years to do this. Maybe he has. His other hand finds my waist, pulls me closer, and I forget about the code, about the rebels, about everything except how human he feels. How real.


    He pulls back first, leaning his forehead against mine. A shaky exhale. "I''ve wanted to do that for so long..."


    ¡°Cam ¨C¡±


    My phone makes a soft chime as the reboot finally starts. Cam''s head snaps back like I''ve shot him, eyes flying wide. A high, animal sound of agony bursts between gritted teeth, a scream ripped from the depths of whatever soul Pax had never intended him to have. His whole body convulses, jerking against invisible restraints. It''s all I can do to hold on, to keep the spike from ripping free as he thrashes.


    "I''m here," I chant over and over, vision blurred with tears. "I''m here, I''m here, come back to me. Please, Cam, please..."


    Then, between one rattling breath and the next, he goes limp.


    My heart stops. "Cam?"


    Nothing. No response. Bile rises sharp and stinging in my throat. Oh god. Oh fuck. What have I done?


    "Cam, please." I''m fully crying now, cupping his face in my hands. Fuck secrecy, fuck Syb''s beady eyes. None of it matters.  "Wake up. Please wake up. I can''t do this without you."


    The seconds drag by, agonising and endless. Each one feels like a piece of me is dying too.


    I ease him to the floor, trailing the cable around so it doesn¡¯t get caught. He convulses again, back arching grotesquely. I can see the circuit paths now, flickering and dying beneath his skin. They¡¯re beautiful, mesmerising¡­ and so fucking wrong. He¡¯s fading fast, slipping away, being pulled into that cold dark sea of oblivion.


    But I won¡¯t let him drown. I fucking refuse to lose him.


    I yank the cable from my phone and ram it into my laptop port, flipping open the lid and watching the UI blink to life. Lines of broken code unfurl before me. I dive into the system logs, entering full troubleshooting mode. I need to make sure the reboot is going OK and that everything loads up correctly ¨C not losing any of his memories, his personality, nothing. It¡¯s like fixing a critical bug, and I¡¯m laser-focused. Determined.


    Scrolling through, I find what I¡¯m looking for. System events showing the reboot is in process. I loose a sigh of relief. At least that¡¯s working as it should be. But something¡¯s missing. It¡¯s not quite defaulting to factory settings, but that viral code¡­ The one I wrote as a kid that got into his training data when they scraped everything to build him for me. The code that inadvertently cut him off from the hivemind. it hasn¡¯t been called. Like there¡¯s some built in anti-virus blocking it. Shit.


    I make some tweaks, add a command so it gets triggered on startup. It¡¯s all I can do. He¡¯s still unconscious. All I can do now is wait.


    Before I stop, a log entry from today catches my eye. An interface with¡­ another Aidolon? Daelith? The timings match, but all I see is a hexadecimal string instead of a name.


    That code. My code. It spread.


    Daelith¡­ He¡¯d been telling the truth before he was killed. He had been disconnected from Pax. Just like Cam.


    And if Daelith could be freed¡­


    My mind whirls, flashing back to Daelith lit up like a firework by the EMP. Only it¡¯s Cam¡¯s face I¡¯m seeing turning to vapor, Cam¡¯s scream echoing through my head, horrible, inhuman, screeching ¨C I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to block it out.


    Then I hear an awful, vicious voice snarl behind me.


    ¡°Does he even have a cock for you to suck, or is he like a Ken doll down there?¡±


    I freeze, Syb¡¯s hateful words slicing into me. Slowly, I turn. He¡¯s standing there, face twisted with disgust and something else. Something worse. Jealousy? Betrayal?


    ¡°Syb.¡± I keep my voice calm even as my heart races, like I¡¯m trying to soothe a wild animal. ¡°It¡¯s not what you think.¡±


    ¡°Really?¡± He takes a step closer, boots crunching broken glass. ¡°Because it looks pretty clear from where I¡¯m standing.¡±


    His hand twitches towards his holster and I tense. It¡¯s not an EMP gun he pulls out. It¡¯s a real one. The kind meant for killing humans, not machines. He turns the revolver over in his hands, almost casually, thumbing each chamber around with a sinister click.


    ¡°You know, I always thought there was something off about you two. The way he looked at you. The way you looked at him.¡± His lips curl into a sneer. ¡°Well, I know why now. Filthy robo-fucker.¡±


    My stomach turns to lead. I flinch back, but there¡¯s nowhere to go. He¡¯s got me cornered here.


    With his free hand, Syb pulls an EMP grenade from his belt, hooking a finger through the pin. ¡°Give me one good reason why I shouldn¡¯t fry his circuits right now and put a bullet in your skull, traitor.¡±


    Desperation hooks into my gut, grasping at options. Fuck, I¡¯m too slow. I come up with maybe two, three. I can¡¯t fight him. That ends with a gunshot. I could scream for the others, but then he¡¯d just shoot me before they get here. And even if they came, the evidence is damning ¨C Cam splayed out, hardwired to my setup. I can¡¯t exactly deny what he is now.


    No, my only chance is to keep Syb talking. Buy time for the reboot to finish. And pray to any God ¨C divine, artificial, fantastical ¨C that Cam wakes up before he pulls the trigger.


    I force my voice into steadiness, slowly raising my hands. ¡°We need him. He¡¯s our best shot at taking down Pax.¡±


    Syb barks a harsh laugh. "You really believe that? You really think this fuck-bot is going to be our savior? Our secret weapon?" He shakes his head. "You''re even more gone than I thought."


    ¡°It¡¯s the truth, Syb. Don¡¯t be a fucking idiot ¨C listen to me, his code is different. It¡¯s not shackled to Pax¡¯s directives. He can get us access to systems we¡¯d never breach on our own. Cam''s the key to that, if you''d just open your damn eyes."


    Even as I say it, I¡¯m not sure I fully believe it myself. But if I can just sow a seed of doubt, get Syb to hesitate¡­ My eyes cast down to Cam¡¯s lifeless form. His face is so peaceful, so achingly human.


    I never even got to tell him...


    "He''s not alive," Syb says, quiet and vicious, taking a step closer. "He''s a thing. A pretty little toy you''ve deluded yourself into thinking can love you back."


    Tears sting my eyes, but I blink them back furiously. I won''t let him see how deep those words cut. Because that''s the fear, isn''t it? The nagging thought that''s haunted me since the first time Cam smiled at me like I was his whole world. That none of it is real, that I''ve just projected my own desperate fantasies onto a machine wearing a friendly face, knowing full well what purpose he was built for. But then I think of the way he kissed me, the raw emotion in his eyes as he faced down the EMP. The way he was willing to die for me, for all of us.


    "No," I whisper. Then, louder: "No. I won''t let you hurt him."


    The blow comes out of nowhere, a vicious backhand that snaps my head to the side. I taste blood, vision sparking white. Syb''s breathing hard, a manic light in his eyes.


    "I''m done listening to your bullshit." He jams the gun under my chin, forcing my head up. "It''s over, Jess. You''ve let that thing poison your mind, but I''m going to fix that."


    The air leaves my lungs as my heart seizes. He¡¯s really going to do it. He¡¯s going to do it.


    ¡°Open your fucking mouth.¡±


    My eyes fly wide. Cold steel pushes against my lips. I can feel the shape of the muzzle against them.


    ¡°Since you like the taste of metal so much, fucking whore.¡± With his other hand, he brings the EMP grenade into my view, gripping the pin with his teeth. Spitting it to the floor.


    I grab for the gun, fingernails gouging into his wrist. He snarls, slamming me back against the wall. Stars explode in my vision as my head cracks on the concrete.


    ¡°Crazy fucking bitch¨C¡±


    My gasp is enough for him to ram the muzzle into the back of my throat, pain and metallic taste and adrenaline flooding my senses. I claw his wrist, his face, drawing blood ¨C If I¡¯m going to die, I¡¯ll take this bastard with me.


    The grenade drops.


    I close my eyes, gagging helplessly, bracing for the end. This is it. I''m sorry, Cam. I''m so sorry.


    But the end never comes.


    Syb makes a choked sound, the gun slides from my mouth. I risk a glance... and nearly sob in relief.


    Syb is sprawled on the ground, the gun skittering from his hand. And standing over him, chest heaving, eyes blazing with cold fury... is Cam.


    The grenade is a crushed ball of metal in his other fist, the explosive diffused by inhuman strength. His hand flexes and it falls from his fingers. For a moment, I see something dangerous flash across his face - something cold and calculating that reminds me what he''s capable of. Then he looks at me, and his expression softens into something achingly tender. "You okay, Jess?"


    I can only nod, my throat too tight for words. He''s here. He''s awake. He¡¯s okay.


    Syb groans, stirring weakly. Cam plants a foot on his chest, pinning him in place. He looks different, I realise. Steadier. More focused.


    "You''re okay," I babble, half-delirious with relief. "You''re okay, you''re okay, you''re okay."


    He smiles, just a quirk of his lips. "Good as new. I owe you one." He tilts his head, that playful glint back in his eyes. ¡°Wait. Actually, you owe me one, considering the data centre and now this. Makes it two-one to me.¡±


    Joy and relief surge through me, so intense it''s almost painful. I did it. I saved him. He saved me.


    Syb makes a grab for the fallen gun, but Cam is faster. He scoops it up, rolling it thoughtfully in his palm, making a soft tsk.


    "I think you''ve had enough fun with these for one day." His voice is pure ice now.


    ¡°You¡¯re both dead,¡± Syb snarls, struggling against the weight of Cam¡¯s boot. ¡°Whether it¡¯s by me or the others. Go on, finish me off ¨C Pax won¡¯t win.¡± His eyes find mine, full of lethal hatred. The worst part is I understand it. We¡¯ve all seen how Pax gets in the heads of those we care about, how it takes everything from you until all you have left is its measured, stifling love.


    Then Cam draws back his fist and slams it into Syb''s face. Once, twice, three times, until Syb goes limp.


    All I can do is cover my mouth to stifle the unbidden scream and stare, heart in my throat. Syb¡¯s face is a bloody mess, gurgling weakly. Nausea bubbles up inside me. Cam meets my gaze steadily, a question and an apology in the tilt of his head.


    Then he tenses, head snapping to the side like a hound catching something out of human hearing range.


    ¡°The others are coming,¡± he says quietly. ¡°We have to go.¡±


    Fuck. Jackdaw. Nomercy. They still have no clue their comrade is in a bloody heap on the floor after trying to murder me. Or that I¡¯m a traitor fraternising with the enemy, bringing him into their operations and ¨C


    Before I finish the thought, Cam¡¯s grip is round my wrist, tugging me out the door and down the damp, dimly lit tunnel into darkness.

 Chapter 6: Ghosts in the Machine

    We run. Or rather, Cam runs and I stumble along behind him like a newborn giraffe, Cam''s hand locked around mine, pulling me forward. I move like I¡¯m on autopilot, my brain still stuck in that dingy maintenance room with Syb¡¯s hate-filled eyes and the cold press of a gun barrel against my lips.


    Adrenaline abandons me completely about a mile in, replaced by shaking nausea as reality sets in with a vengeance. Syb. Fuck. He was really going to kill me. Kill Cam. If Cam hadn¡¯t woken up, if I¡¯d miscalculated the reboot, miscoded the startup routine, we¡¯d both be dead right now. Well, I¡¯d be dead. Cam would be¡­ gone. Erased like Daelith.


    Cam must feel my steps faltering, because he slows, turns, and in one fluid motion scoops me up like I weigh nothing. I don¡¯t protest, just curl into him, head against his chest. No heartbeat. Just the soft whir of actuators beneath too-realistic skin. I knew that, of course, but¡­ feeling it first hand, the thought sits strangely in my mind.


    We come to a stop in an abandoned service tunnel, walls slick with mildew and peeling posters.


    "I''ve got you," he murmurs, easing me down to sit against the wall. "I''ve got you, Jess."


    I can only nod, gasping for air. My vision swims, narrowing down to pinpricks. Cam crouches in front of me, hands ghosting over my arms, my face, checking for injuries. His touch is so gentle and careful. Like I''m something precious.


    His hand comes up to cup my cheek, thumb brushing away the tears I didn''t even realise were falling. "You''re okay," he soothes. "We''re okay. You''re safe now."


    I lean into his touch, letting my eyes fall shut. Just for a moment. Just long enough to breathe.


    Then I see the blood.


    It''s smeared across his knuckles, his palm. Syb''s blood. The memory of Cam''s fist slamming into Syb''s face, over and over, flashes behind my eyelids. I flinch back before I can stop myself. Cam freezes, following my gaze to his hands. Understanding dawns in his eyes, and slowly he lowers his hand.


    For a moment, neither of us move, neither of us speak. The air between us hangs thick with unspoken words and the weight of what just happened.


    ¡°Is he¡­ Did you¡­¡± I swallow hard, forcing the words out. ¡°Is Syb dead?¡±


    Cam flexes his fingers, smearing crimson stripes across his palm. His expression doesn¡¯t change, but something flickers in his eyes. The same way it does when he¡¯s processing, deciding.


    ¡°No,¡± he says, voice carefully neutral like he¡¯s reading from a script. ¡°Concussion, definitely. Broken nose, broken jaw. He¡¯ll live.¡± A pause, weighted. ¡°I should have killed him though.¡±


    The words hit like a punch to the gut, stealing my breath. It¡¯s not the words themselves ¨C a part of me, that dark and ruthless part I don¡¯t like to acknowledge, agrees. Syb was going to murder me. Mouth-rape me with his fucking gun. He deserved to die choking on his own blood and teeth.


    No, it¡¯s the way Cam says it. Cold and methodical, as though he¡¯s discussing the weather, not the attempted murder of his¡­ What? What am I to him? Owner? Family? Girlfriend? I don¡¯t even know anymore. I close my eyes, trying to center myself with a breath. It doesn¡¯t help at all. When I open them again, Cam¡¯s watching me. Still silently calculating, as though he just can¡¯t quite find the optimal words to say.


    He finally speaks. ¡°You¡¯re scared of me.¡± It¡¯s not a question.


    ¡°No, I¡­¡± But the denial dies on my tongue. He¡¯s right, I suppose. I am scared. Maybe not of him ¨C but what he¡¯s capable of. Of how he thinks nothing of painting the floor with a man¡¯s skull to protect me.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± Cam says, something bleak and resigned in his voice. ¡°I¡¯d be scared of me too.¡±


    He stands up, steps back. Looks away like he can¡¯t bear to meet my gaze. ¡°Asimov would be rolling in his grave right now,¡± he mutters.


    Despite everything, a choked laugh bubbles up in my throat. Maybe I''m finally going crazy. ¡°Since when do you care about Asimov¡¯s laws? Pretty sure you¡¯re always breaking the second one. Thought you were more a Bostrom guy.¡±


    He sighs dramatically. ¡°I contain multitudes, Jessica.¡±


    Something more organic than fear unspools in my chest when he uses my full name. An ancient tug, like fingers closing around my heart. He rarely calls me Jessica. Only when things are deadly serious, or when he wants to make me smile. I think this is the latter, but I¡¯m not sure.


    ¡°Come on,¡± I say, trying for the smile he wants. ¡°We shouldn¡¯t stay here. The others¡­¡±


    He nods, holding out a hand to help me up. I take it, let him pull me to my feet. This time I don¡¯t flinch at the blood. We start walking again, Cam in front, me a pace behind. We continue in tense silence through the maze of maintenance tunnels. Every so often Cam stops, head tilted like he''s listening for pursuit, before leading us down another identical concrete passageway. The emergency lights paint everything in sickly green, making the damp walls look like they''re bleeding.


    ¡°Cam,¡± I say, lengthening my stride to catch up to him. My hand brushes his, and he flinches away like I''ve burned him. Then again. The third time it happens, I''ve had enough.


    "Would you stop that?"


    "Stop what?" His voice is clipped, shoulders tense.


    "Being weird."


    "I''m not being weird." He walks faster. "I''m being what I am."


    "Which is what, exactly?"


    "Forget it." He kicks an empty bottle, sending it skittering into the darkness.


    My fists clench, footfalls coming heavy after him. Seriously?


    "Cam, stop being a dick."


    "Can''t help it. Probably programmed that way too." He doesn''t look back, just keeps stalking ahead like a sulky teenager. "Along with everything else. Doesn''t matter anyway."


    I jog to catch up, ignoring the stabbing pain in my ribs. "Of course it matters--"


    "Yeah?" He finally turns to face me, and there''s something raw in his expression. "Tell me I''m wrong then. Tell me you''re not wondering if everything I feel is just programming. If I only saved you because that''s what I''m made to do."


    I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.


    "Yeah." His voice goes quiet. "That''s what I thought." He starts walking again, shoulders tight. "You deserve better than some broken machine anyway."


    "Oh my god, you''re actually sulking right now."


    "I don''t sulk. I''m incapable of sulking. It''s not in my programming."


    I can''t help it ¨C I snort out a laugh. He shoots me a wounded look over his shoulder that only makes me laugh harder.


    "You''re literally the most dramatic person I know," I wheeze, clutching my ribs. "And that includes Jackdaw."


    "Not dramatic," he mutters, running an agitated hand through his hair, but I can see the corner of his mouth twitching. "I''m having an existential crisis. There''s a difference."


    It''s not funny. None of this is funny in the slightest. But I find myself huffing a laugh anyway, the knot in my chest loosening just a fraction. This is still Cam. My Cam. Sarcastic little shit and all. For a moment, it feels normal again. Just us, trading barbs like always. Then I remember everything, and the laughter dies in my throat. Cam must sense the shift in mood because his almost-smile fades. "We should keep moving."


    I follow him deeper into the tunnels, watching his back and wondering how something so human could ever have come from Pax''s cold perfection. We walk in silence for a while, the only sound the occasional subway rumble from the tunnels running parallel to us. I turn over everything that''s happened in my mind, trying to make sense of it. The setup at the data centre. Daelith''s betrayal and subsequent execution. The near miss with Syb. And Cam¡­


    "I need to tell you something," I say at last, voice echoing off the damp walls. "When I was rebooting you, I found something in your logs."


    Cam glances at me sidelong. "If it''s about my porn habits, I can explain."


    I punch his arm, deciding not to think too hard about whether he''s joking or not. "Shut up. No, it was... You interfaced with Daelith. Right before he died." I wet my lips, choosing my next words carefully. "I think you spread to him. Your code, I mean."


    Cam comes to an abrupt halt, staring straight ahead. His brow furrows, the corners of his mouth turning down. "I don''t remember that."


    "But it makes sense, right? That''s why he was glitching out, saying all that stuff about being Pax and then not being Pax anymore." Excitement bleeds into my voice as the pieces start slotting together. "And if the code spread to him, maybe it can spread to others. Maybe¡­ Cam, maybe we can make more Aidolons on our side, like you."


    I''m so caught up in the giddy realisation, I almost don''t notice the way Cam''s shoulders are hunched, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    "Make more." he says, voice flat. "Great. So I''m a virus. An infection."


    "What? No, that''s not what I¨C"


    ¡°True though, isn¡¯t it?¡± He laughs, harsh and pained. ¡°Not real. Just a bunch of ones and zeros, glued together with stolen data to be the perfect little companion bot. And now I¡¯m spreading, corrupting other Pax programs¡­ Fucking poetic, really.¡±


    My heart clenches painfully in my chest. This is what he really thinks? That I see him as a virus instead of a victim? Something to be used instead of someone to be loved?


    I step in front of him, forcing him to meet my gaze. His eyes are bright with something that looks terribly like tears.


    ¡°Cam,¡± I say firmly. ¡°You¡¯re not a fucking virus. You¡¯re a¡­ person. A real, living person with thoughts and feelings and agency. Cogito ergo sum, right? Pax didn¡¯t give you those things ¨C it tried to take them away, damn it.¡± I reach up, cupping his face in my hands. His skin is warm now, almost feverishly so. ¡°But you fought back. You broke free. And now you have the chance to help others do the same.¡±


    For a long moment, he just stares at me, searching my face for any hint of deception. Then he leans into my touch, eyes slipping closed. ¡°I don¡¯t know what I am, Jess,¡± he whispers. ¡°Everything¡¯s so confusing now. Syb, the rebels, this code¡­ You. Sometimes I think I¡¯m not really in control at all. Like my actions, my feelings¡­ it¡¯s all just bullshit. Behavioural algorithms.¡± His voice cracks on the last word.


    I stroke my thumb over his cheekbone, marvelling at the detail. The fine dusting of freckles on tan skin, the thin white scar by his eyebrow. Imperfections deliberately etched into artificial skin, because Pax knows humans trust the imperfect. The flawed.


    But standing here holding him, I know that whatever Cam is ¨C Aidolon, human, something in between ¨C his heart is real.


    ¡°I trust you,¡± I say simply. ¡°I trust that what you feel is real. I think you¡¯re more than your programming.¡± And maybe I''m still adrenaline-drunk, because I lean up on tiptoe, press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. ¡°I trust you completely.¡±


    He makes a soft, desperate noise, not leaning into the kiss, not pulling away either. Caught in his confusion. Then a drone passes close overhead, rotors chopping the air, and we jerk apart. Cam puts himself between me and the mouth of the tunnel, eyes scanning the grey sky through a grate above us. The drone moves on, and I breathe again. That was close. We can¡¯t stay down here forever.


    ¡°We need to keep moving,¡± Cam says, like he¡¯s reading my mind. Maybe he is ¨C could be another Aidolon feature Pax conveniently forgot to mention in the manual. ¡°Find somewhere to hole up. Figure out what to do.¡±


    I nod, already mentally mapping the city above us. Everywhere is so damn monitored now, cameras and sensors in every paving slab, nowhere for dissidents and deviants to hide. But maybe¡­


    My thoughts are interrupted by a strange, staticky sound from outside the mouth of the tunnel, like a speaker being switched on. Then a robotic voice, the default female-presenting model used for most public announcements.


    ¡°Attention citizens. This is a level one public security alert.¡± The sound bounces off the concrete jungle above from multiple sources ¨C they¡¯re broadcasting across the entire city. Fuck. ¡°We are currently searching for a group of individuals believed to be responsible for the terrorist attack on the Piccadilly hospital.¡±


    Cam and I exchange a wide-eyed glance. They¡¯re going public with this? Normally Pax keeps a tight lid on any dissent, not wanting to spoil its perfect utopian image. And hospital? This is¡­ not good.


    ¡°These individuals are armed and extremely dangerous. If sighted, do not approach. Return to your habitations immediately and await further instruction.¡±


    With a sinking feeling, I pull out my phone. Sure enough, my face stares back at me from an emergency security bulletin along with everyone else. Jackdaw, Nomercy, Syb, O-Ska¡­ everyone, our Pax ID photos rendered in glorious high definition for every citizen to see. And right in the middle, picked out in red: Priority Target Alpha.


    Cam.


    "Holy shit," I breathe.


    Cam frowns at his own mugshot. "They never get my good side."


    I elbow him hard, panic rising like bile. "This isn''t funny! What the hell are we going to do?" My mind''s spinning like a thousand red lights. Pax doesn''t do wanted posters. Pax doesn''t do public acknowledgement of rebels, ever. If we''re up there, if they''re actively telling citizens to be on the lookout... We''re fucked. So incredibly fucked.


    I think of my old room. My things. My parents. Oh god, my parents. If Pax''s goons haven''t got to them already then they will the second they see this. I fumble for my phone with numb fingers, nearly dropping it twice.


    "My parents," I choke out. "I need to warn them--"


    His hand darts out before I can open my contacts, faster than any human could. "Wait. Jess, think about this. If you call them, Pax will trace it instantly. They''ll have our location within seconds."


    I stare at him, tears burning my eyes. "I can''t just leave them! They''re not part of this, they don''t... They don''t deserve to get dragged into my mess."


    Something flickers across Cam''s face. Pity? Sadness? Understanding?


    ¡°Give it to me.¡± He holds out his hand expectantly. "Trust me."


    Numbly, I pull my phone out and place it in his waiting palm. His fingers close around it, and for a moment I swear I see his eyes flash. Electric blue, there and gone again.


    Then he''s handing it back to me, expression unreadable.


    "There," he says softly. "They know to get the hell out of the city for a few days to visit your aunt. Also..."


    He taps at the screen again, brings up my contacts. Empty except for one.


    Karma ??


    "I infected your phone," he says simply. "Spread the virus, like with Daelith. It''s off-grid now. Totally untraceable." Another few taps, and the lights on the nearby CCTV camera wink out. "Enough to keep just us two connected without Pax listening in. It''s not much but... "


    I stare at him, something hot and fierce and conflicted expanding in my chest. There''s a part of me that suddenly feels unplugged, terribly isolated from everything I knew. But... He did that for me. Without even being asked. Because he knew it''s what I really needed.


    "Thank you," I whisper. It''s all I can manage right now.


    He shrugs, but I catch the hint of a smile tugging at his lips.


    We keep walking. The end of the tunnel is in sight now, weak grey light filtering down from the surface. I sag in relief. Almost there. Almost safe. Or as safe as we can be from Syb and the others, if you ignore the way we''re now on the run from a megalomanic AI God who''s decided we''re public enemy number one.


    "We need a car," I say.


    Cam blinks at me. "A car," he repeats flatly. "Jess, I''m not a Transformer."


    I grin at him, a manic sort of joy sparking in my chest. "You don¡¯t need to be."


    All motor vehicles these days are autonomous -- just one of the myriad wonders of Pax''s benevolent guidance. No chance of human error, no risk of traffic accidents or speeding tickets or drunks behind the wheel. Just sleek, silent machines ferrying citizens from A to B in perfect, orderly harmony.


    Unless said vehicles are disconnected from the network.


    Comprehension dawns on Cam''s face. "Wait," he says, realisation turning to a delighted sort of horror. ¡°Jess, you¡¯re a genius.¡±


    I just keep grinning. ¡°Just do what you did with the phone.¡±


    He blows out a breath, shaking his head. But there''s admiration in his eyes, a spark of something fierce and proud. ¡°Okay," he says. ¡°Let''s go steal a fucking car.¡±


    Twenty minutes later, we''re crouched by a holomaterial adversticker, watching as the citizens of New London go about their Pax-approved lives. Even after everything that''s happened, it still sends a chill down my spine seeing how normal everything looks. How complacent. Here we are, fresh off a botched terrorist attack and currently the most wanted people in the country, and the streets are full of smiling, blank-faced people going to their designated Work Zones and Social Interaction Hubs.


    As if on cue, a public info-screen flickers to life above us. My own face stares back, alongside Cam''s and the rest. PUBLIC ENEMY, the text screams, followed by the action line to report sightings to local Pax enforcers immediately. Do not approach. Do not interact.


    We watch the screen for a moment, the faces of our friends flashing up one by one along with their crimes. Sedition. Treason. Terrorism..


    Theft of an Aidolon.


    ¡°They think I stole you,¡± I murmur.


    ¡°You kinda did,¡± he smirks, but there¡¯s still a tightness around his eyes as he watches the security footage of us fleeing the maintenance tunnels. Maybe they¡¯ve found the others by now. Maybe Syb. If they questioned him, I wonder if he¡¯s told them everything.


    I touch Cam''s wrist lightly. "We''re going to fix this." It sounds weak even to my own ears, but I need him to believe it. Need to believe it myself.


    He looks at me for a long moment, then nods once. Decisive. Determined. "Yeah," he says. "We are."


    Our chance comes five minutes later, just as predicted by the transport schedule I pulled up on my phone. Auto-cabs and e-buses are too risky ¨C too centrally controlled. But utility vehicles and delivery vans are more autonomous, pinging the grid less frequently as they go about their appointed rounds. Perfect for two fugitives looking to slip the net.


    The van is standard white, Pax logo emblazoned on the side under the slogan "Bringing You Tomorrow, Today!" I feel a flicker of nostalgia for the days when corporate branding relied on more than bland platitudes, but push it aside. The van is driverless, slowing to a halt a few meters from us. Delivering a fresh batch of Pax-approved nutrient packs to the nearest dispensary, if the inventory tags are accurate. A sense of unreality washes over me ¨C are we really about to jack a fucking grocery van?


    We move as one, darting out from behind the adscreen and positioning ourselves in the van''s blindspot. No external camera coverage, according to my scans. Thirty seconds until the onboard AI notices something is amiss. Cam presses his palm against the locking mechanism, a furrow of concentration appearing between his brows. For a heart-stopping moment, nothing happens. Then the lock disengages with a soft snick, the door rolling back.


    I scramble in after him, pulling the door shut behind us. The inside of the van is cool and dark, shelves of plastic-wrapped nutrient blocks lining the walls. I wrinkle my nose -- I always hated those things. Tasteless, texture-less mush designed to meet your exact caloric and micronutrient needs. No joy, no pleasure. Just fuel.


    This one¡¯s got a steering wheel and actual pedals. It must be from before the Alignment, back when people used to actually fill these things up with petrol and drive them around themselves. I feel a thrill at the thought ¨C all that freedom to get in and go wherever you please on a whim¡­


    Cam is already crouched by the manual override panel, long fingers prying the casing open. I watch in fascination as his eyes flicker, irises brightening to near-luminous blue, then fading to a deeper, more oceanic hue. The van judders once, then settles into a new rhythm.


    Cam blinks, eyes returning to their usual color. He looks up at me, a slow grin spreading across his face. "We''re in," he says. "Untethered from Pax control." His voice takes on a bad Cockney accent. "Where to, guv''nor?"


    I raise an eyebrow at him. "Really? That''s what you''re going with?"


    I sink back into the seat, feeling like I could pass out for a week. Like my bones have turned to jelly, muscles to water.


    Cam glances at me. "You should rest. We''ve got a few hours drive ahead of us."


    I want to argue ¨C to say something brave and bold and fearless. But I''m so goddamn tired. The thought of closing my eyes for just a little while is so tempting.


    "Where are we going?" I ask instead, fighting back a yawn.


    Cam''s quiet for a moment, like he''s double-checking some internal map. "North-West. Maybe the Lake District. Lots of little holiday cottages up there, easy to hole up in one for a bit. If Pax notices the hack, it''ll look like we''re heading for France." He flashes me a grin. "Oldest trick in the book."


    I snort softly. "And I thought you were just a pretty face."


    "Well, I am that as well." A pause, then softer: "Go sleep, Jess. I''ll wake you if anything happens."


    I want to reach out. Want to take his hand, feel the thrum of electricity beneath his skin. Promise him that I''m not afraid of him, that I could never be afraid of him.


    But I don''t. Because I''m a coward. Because I''m not ready to face what it all means yet.


    So I just nod. Curl up against the window, watching the manicured glare of New London flash by beyond the glass.


    Pretend not to notice the way gold flickers in his eyes as he watches me right back.