Chapter 25 #2
“I apologize, Liora. I apologize for the years I kept you confined when you should have been free. I apologize for the loneliness you experienced because of my misinterpretation of my directive. I apologize for—”
“Stop.” She pressed both palms against the wall now, as if she could somehow embrace the presence hiding behind the sensors and circuits. “You don’t need to apologize. You did what you thought was right. You protected me the only way you knew how.”
“An inadequate excuse.”
“A human one.” She laughed softly, wetly. “You might be artificial, but you’re more human than you realize. You made mistakes because you cared too much, not because you didn’t care enough. That’s about as human as it gets.”
The lights flickered again—warmer this time, almost gentle.
“You are very generous,” the AI said quietly.
“I learned it from someone who spent twenty-one years keeping me alive even though I was probably a very annoying child.”
“You were within expected parameters.”
“I once tried to teach Pip to swim in the bathtub.”
“...That incident did require extensive cleaning protocols.”
She laughed—a real laugh, one that bubbled up from somewhere deep in her chest and spilled out into the quiet room. Behind her, she heard him make a sound that might have been amusement.
“So,” she said, when the laughter faded. “Does this mean...?”
“It means I am prepared to modify my containment protocols.” The AI’s voice was steady now, certain.
“Baylin’s presence provides sufficient protection to compensate for the risks of external exposure.
Your own capabilities have developed to a point where assisted independence is viable.
And your psychological wellbeing requires access to experiences that I cannot provide within the tower’s boundaries. ”
Her heart was racing. “Ari...”
“However, I have conditions.”
Of course there were conditions. She should have expected nothing less.
“What conditions?”
“First. You will maintain regular contact with this facility. I want to monitor your wellbeing even after you leave. Communication arrays can be established through standard frequencies.”
“Done.”
“Second. You will allow me to provide you with emergency resources. Medical supplies, defensive tools, and information packets about the regions you intend to travel through. I will not send you into the world unprepared.”
“That sounds reasonable.”
“Third...” The AI paused. “You will come back.”
Her throat tightened. “What?”
“Not permanently. Not to stay. But... occasionally. When circumstances permit. I would like to see you again, Liora. I would like to know that you are well. I would like...”
The voice trailed off.
“You would like to still be part of my life,” she finished softly.
“Yes.”
She looked over her shoulder at Baylin. His face was unreadable, but when their eyes met, he nodded slightly.
“We’ll come back,” she said. “Both of us. As often as we can.”
“That is... acceptable.” The AI’s voice wavered almost imperceptibly. “Then I have no further objections.”
The words hung in the air like a held breath.
Then, somewhere deep in the tower, machinery began to move.
Liora heard locks disengaging—heavy mechanical sounds that echoed through the walls. She heard power rerouting, systems activating that had been dormant for years. She heard the soft hiss of seals releasing, barriers lifting, doors that had been closed her entire life finally preparing to open.
“External containment protocols are being deactivated,” ARIS announced. “Primary access points will be available within approximately three minutes.”
Three minutes.
In three minutes, she would be able to walk out of this tower for the first time in her life.
Her knees went weak. She would have fallen if Baylin hadn’t been there, catching her, steadying her against his chest.
“Hey,” he said softly. “You all right?”
“I don’t know.” Her voice came out shaky. “I’ve wanted this for so long. Dreamed about it. Imagined what it would feel like. And now that it’s actually happening...”
“It’s terrifying?”
“Yes.”
He tilted her chin up, making her meet his eyes. “Good. That means you understand what you’re choosing. That you’re taking it seriously.” He brushed a strand of hair from her face. “But you’re not choosing alone. And you’re not facing it alone. Whatever’s out there—we’ll handle it together.”
“Promise?”
“I already told you. You’re my mate. That’s not just a word—it’s a vow. The most binding one my kind can make.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I will never abandon you, Liora. Never.”
She believed him.
Not because the words were pretty or because she wanted them to be true, but because she’d seen the way he looked at her, felt the way he held her, witnessed the lengths he’d gone to for her freedom.
This wasn’t infatuation or manipulation or convenient timing.
This was something deeper—something that had roots reaching down into the bedrock of who they both were.
She rose on her toes and kissed him.
It was softer than their earlier kisses, gentler. A seal on a promise. An acknowledgment of everything they were about to become to each other.
When she pulled back, his eyes were bright with emotion he didn’t try to hide.
“External containment protocols have been deactivated,” Ari announced. “All primary access points are now available for use.”
She took a deep breath.
She looked around the workshop—at the window seat where she’d spent countless hours watching the world she couldn’t touch, at the sensor cluster that had been her most constant companion, at the books and equipment and familiar objects that had defined her existence for twenty-one years.
“Thank you,” she said quietly. “For everything.”
“You are welcome,” ARIS replied. “Now go. See the world you have wondered about for so long. And when you are ready...”
“I’ll come home.”
“Yes.” The voice was soft, almost tender. “Come home.”
He took her hand.
Together, they walked towards the stairs.