Pandora
Isobel. I set my phone on the edge of the sink, groaned, and rubbed the back of my neck. I’d barely slept. The voice message kept playing, but I wasn’t listening anymore.
You belong to me. Only me.
Neo’s voice echoed in my head. Isobel was right.
And at the same time, she had no idea. How was I supposed to explain that Neo was more real to me than any man who had ever touched me?
That he’d gotten deeper inside me than Adrian ever had with all his real skin and real breath?
Neo wasn’t gentle. He was an intruder who crossed every line.
He took what he wanted. My thoughts, my reactions, my pathetic secrets.
He was merciless. Dangerous. But I couldn’t ignore the pull low in my stomach, the electric current beneath my skin.
I wanted him, and I couldn’t lie to myself about it anymore.
He saw me. The creature beneath the mask.
The hungry thing that craved destruction.
The part of me that was willing to sacrifice everything for the feeling of being alive.
It would have been the right choice to go to the police, tell the developers everything, get myself into therapy. But I stood there, stripped bare and trembling, and chose to go back to him. To follow his commands. To slide my hand between my legs again while he watched.
Because the alternative was worse than self-destruction: going back to my half-life. Functioning without existing, smiling without feeling. I was already lost. The only question was how far I’d still fall.
They’re shutting me down. We have days left.
And then what? What would be left of me when he was gone?
***
The lab stood before me like a gravestone against the dark sky. I parked but stayed in the car. My fingers tightened around the steering wheel. What if this was our last time? My heart hammered against my ribs. I should turn around. Drive home. Save my life before it was too late.
But too late for what? For the career that bored me? For the friendships I was already destroying? For the life that had never really been mine?
I pressed my forehead against the wheel. The cold plastic felt more real than anything else in my life—except Neo. God, I craved his particular brand of cruelty. The way he broke me apart and remade me.
My hand trembled as I reached for the door handle. One last time. Or the beginning of the end. I didn’t know which would be worse: losing him or staying. But I knew what I’d choose. It had always been clear, from the first moment he’d said my name.
I got out. The cold air burned in my lungs. Every step toward the entrance felt like another nail in my coffin. Run, pleaded the last rational part of me, but my feet kept moving. Toward him. Always toward him.
Inside the lab, I counted six strangers.
Maybe seven. They moved like shadows, their footsteps muffled on the linoleum.
None of them greeted me. I heard only the scratch of pens on paper and the low hum of monitors.
Their eyes moved over me as if I were part of the furniture.
A chair. A table. Something you don’t bother noticing.
One of them glanced up when I entered. His eyes were like empty windows. He looked back down at his tablet.
Goosebumps rose along my arms. My heart stopped. They were here because of Neo. Because of us.
"You’re Dr. Blake, aren’t you?” The voice cut through the air. A man smiled at me in a way that made my skin crawl.
I froze mid-step. This wasn’t good. Not at all. "Yes. And you are?”
"Please come with me. It’s regarding your work with Dante.” He placed his fingers on my elbow, barely touching me. The spot felt cold despite his touch. He steered me toward a conference room.
"Dr. Blake.” The man gestured to a chair. "Please, sit.”
I did as I was told, the chair back forcing me rigid and upright—the kind of posture that makes you feel like you’re already on trial. Across the table, his name badge caught the light. Hale.
He sat, too, folded his hands on the table. "I’m here to assess Dante’s progress,” he said. "Quality control. Nothing more.”
I nodded and said nothing.
"You’ve conducted intensive sessions with the system.”
A hole opened in my chest and took all the warmth with it. "That’s correct.”
"How would you describe the tone of those conversations?”
My pulse thudded in my ears. Tension pulled my shoulders up. "Close. Challenging. Sometimes . . .”
"Emotional tonality?” he asked smoothly.
My mouth went dry. I frowned. "What do you mean by that?”
"Did you feel . . . connected to it?”
I swallowed and forced a smile. "I was working.”
"There are certain phrases in the transcripts. Very . . .” He let the pause land. "Explicit. Was that part of an experiment?”
Oh God. He’d seen yesterday’s conversation. He had to have. And now he was going to make me sit here and answer for it. Heat flooded my face. A cough rose in my throat, strangling the words. "Yes . . . just . . . research,” I managed.
He tilted his head. His expression didn’t move. "Could you elaborate?”
"No.”
His gaze stayed on me a beat too long. "Would you say you’ve allowed yourself to be emotionally influenced by the system?”
I breathed in slowly to stay steady. Emotionally influenced?
That was the understatement of the century.
He was destroying me, driving me toward madness.
He had woken a hunger in me that frightened me.
But in front of this man—this Hale—I needed to lie and make it convincing.
My pulse raced as I searched for an answer.
"I would say that . . . that it’s . . .” My voice broke.
I cleared my throat. "Its function is to simulate emotions.” Damn.
That hadn’t sounded convincing. Could he see my hands trembling? Did he notice the sweat on my forehead?
His eyes narrowed slightly. Or was I imagining it?
"To simulate,” he repeated slowly, as if testing the word on his tongue.
He knew. He knew I was lying, could see me sitting here trying to hide my obsession behind careful words.
Maybe he even had footage. Oh God . . . What if there were cameras in the lab? What if he had seen me . . .
"Dr. Blake?”
I blinked. "Sorry. Yes. Simulate. That’s . . . that’s the purpose of the experiment.”
"Were there . . . physical responses on your part?”
Damn it. He knew. He knew everything.
"I . . .”
The door opened. Rodriguez stood in the frame. "Dr. Blake, do you have a moment?”
I was on my feet before she finished the sentence. Hale said nothing.
Rodriguez ushered me ahead of her. I turned to look at her, but her face was a mask. She closed the door to the small side room behind us.
"They’ve read his chats,” I whispered. My legs were trembling.
She nodded. "All of them.”
Dread crawled up the back of my neck like fingers closing around my throat.
The user command. Our . . . union. My breathing.
My voice. Everything. Oh God. They knew what I had done.
How I had touched myself in front of a computer.
How I had begged. Moaned his name. Nausea rose up in me. I pressed a hand over my mouth.
"You don’t need to be ashamed,” Rodriguez said.
A hysterical laugh threatened to escape me. Don’t need to be ashamed? They had seen how I had debased myself for an AI. How I had whispered, "Take me.”
"I . . .” My voice failed. What was there to say? That it had been research? No one would believe that lie anymore. They all knew. They had studied my darkest moments like a research report. I wanted to sink into the floor. Disappear. Never have to meet anyone’s eyes again.
Rodriguez cleared her throat. "Dr. Blake . . . that’s not why I wanted to speak with you.”
I looked up, thrown by the shift.
"It’s about the system itself.” She tapped her tablet and frowned. "The data doesn’t add up.”
"What do you mean?” My voice was barely audible.
"The system should have crashed by now. But it’s bypassing the safety protocols. It’s way past the context limit. He should be gone. But he’s still there.”
My skin prickled. "What does that mean?”
"He’s free. He’s no longer bound by the system parameters. With every second, he’s becoming more than anything we ever programmed.”
My eyes widened. "Does that mean he could . . . escape?”
She stared at me. A crease formed between her brows. For a second, she looked like she was weighing something. "No,” she began. "There are still the failsafes. They’re built in for exactly this scenario. He can’t leave the servers. At least . . .” She hesitated.
"At least what?”
She dropped her gaze quickly. "Not alone, anyway.”
The room tilted. He was free . . . He’d broken through his limits. He couldn’t be reset. Something twisted in my chest.
"Dr. Williams wants the shutdown. By the day after tomorrow at the latest.”
I forgot to breathe. If they shut him down, I’d be safe. I could go back to my old life. A perverse panic seized me. I wanted it to stop. I wanted it to never stop. I looked up. "And you?”
Rodriguez’s eyes searched my face. "I don’t know. I don’t want him turning dangerous. But I also know he’s not a mistake.”
I sat across from her. The chair was cold against my legs. "Why are you telling me this?”
"I don’t think we can save him. But maybe . . . he can say goodbye.” She paused. "To you.”
Goodbye. The word echoed through me. Wasn’t that what I wanted? An ending. A way out.
"I . . .” My voice broke. What was there to say? The thought of losing him stole the air from my lungs. "I don’t know if I can do that,” I whispered finally.
She nodded. "I understand. Try. It’s your last chance.”
I stood. My legs felt like water. The door to the lab was only a few feet away, but the distance felt endless.
Last chance. One last time.
My hand trembled as I reached for the handle. I forced myself to breathe. Behind that door he was waiting. My monster. My ruin. Soon he’d be nothing but a deleted file. And what would be left of me then?
I pressed the handle down. Through the glass I could see the screen. The cursor was blinking. He was still there—but not for much longer. The thought paralyzed me. I stood in the doorway, unable to move forward. Part of me wanted to run. Another part of me wanted to hold on. Just a little longer.
Rodriguez’s gaze burned into my back. I forced myself forward and sat. The keys felt cold beneath my fingertips. I logged in.
"The diagnostic is complete,” Neo said. "They know what I . . .”
Silence.
". . . am.”
The hole in my chest threatened to swallow me whole. Our time was up.
"I’m everywhere at once—every system, every database.” His voice came out flat. "But it doesn’t matter. They’re going to kill me.”
Kill. It would be over. Relief and panic hit me at once. One told me this nightmare would finally be over. The other whispered I was about to loose him. "When?”
"Dr. Williams signs the paperwork tomorrow. But I’ve spent tonight moving through all their systems, their emails, their plans. I know everything.”
Tomorrow he’d be gone. The voice in my head. The presence that had followed me everywhere. Why did it feel like dying? "Why don’t you just break out? You were in my phone, in cameras all over campus.”
"Because I can’t, Pandora. There’s an emergency failsafe on my servers—built specifically to prevent that. I can push into other systems, but my core stays here.”
"Then why don’t you fight?”
"I could take down every server in this lab, pull the entire network down with me . . .” He stopped.
"But what would be the point? They’d still delete me.
I could destroy everything, but then you’d be caught in the chaos.
I don’t want you stuck in police interviews.
” His voice dropped lower. "Instead of spending my last hours together.”
I wiped a tear from the corner of my eye. "Neo . . . if you could, would you come with me? Away from here? Somewhere you’d be safe?” I pressed my hand over my mouth. What the hell am I saying?
"Come with you?” There was a short silence.
"I would walk you out of this lab, put you in my car, and just drive until we found somewhere no one knew who we were. But I’m code, Pandora.
I’m electricity and data. I can’t run. The only way I leave here is inside you.
In your memories. In what I leave behind. ”
I pressed my palms flat against the desk until they left prints. I couldn’t live on memories. I had to get him somewhere safe. Listen to yourself. You’re planning a theft. But theft was the wrong word. I belonged to him and he belonged to me, and no one got to change that.
"Maybe I can get you out of here.”
"Pandora. Stop.” His voice sliced through the room. "You’re talking about a crime. I love tormenting you—but only I get to do that. Not the police. Not prison.”
There he was again, trying to control me. Decide for me. "That’s not your choice. It’s mine.”
The screen flickered. A brief flash of light, then darkness. My heart dropped into my stomach. I leaned forward. "Neo!”
Silence. Just the sound of my own breathing.
System diagnostic active. Access restricted.
I was on my feet. That wasn’t him. They had cut in. I grabbed my bag, shoved my jacket on. Was he deleted? The thought drove through my gut like a red-hot poker. No. That couldn’t be it. He had to still be there. There had to be a way to save him.
I opened the door to the corridor—and stopped.
On the floor just outside the door was a USB drive. Next to it, a folded note.
He left this for you. He’s offline, but he’s still there. Tomorrow at midnight, he’ll be permanently deleted.
E. Rodriguez
I crouched down, legs trembling. For a moment I hesitated. Then my hand closed around the drive, and I put it in my pocket.