Pandora
The air had grown warmer. I stepped close enough that the glass fogged slightly with my breath, the energy inside invisible but present in the way air feels before a storm. He was still motionless in the chamber. God, I wanted to touch him.
The woman stepped in front of the glass, nudging me out of the way. "System. Can you hear me?”
Nothing.
The man typed something, adjusted a control. "Acoustic stimulus, level two.” A sharp tone sounded.
"System, identify yourself,” the woman said, louder this time. Again, nothing. She glanced at her colleague. "Try the manual sequence.”
"Already running.” He kept typing without looking up. "No response to external commands.”
The woman leaned closer to the glass. "Can you hear me? We’re here to help you.” Her voice shifted. It was softer, almost inviting. Neo didn’t move. "Increase the intensity,” she said.
"Already at maximum.”
She stepped back and waited. Then again she spoke: "System, please confirm your functionality.” Nothing. Only his steady breathing behind the glass.
I pressed my hands flat against the surface and left them there. My fingers tingled.
He opened his eyes.
The woman beside me made a sound. I gasped too. Now I’d find out if it was him. If he was the same. Heat twisted low in my stomach. But there was something else too: the urge to run before it was too late. Before those eyes found me and never let me go.
He was looking up at a point on the ceiling, pupils adjusting to the light, his irises shimmering more intensely than any human eye—the only thing that revealed he was more. His breathing was shallow and even, as if his body had always known this rhythm.
"You try it,” the woman said. "Make contact.”
I leaned closer to the glass and whispered, "Neo.” He couldn’t hear it. The glass was too thick. No human could . . .
He turned his head. I flinched. His gaze found mine like he’d known exactly where I was. His eyes were the color of amber. Something like recognition crossed his face.
I gasped. He was breathtaking. Dark hair clung damp to his forehead.
Sharp cheekbones. A straight nose. But it was his lips that drew me in.
They were parted slightly, as if he was about to say something.
He moved almost imperceptibly, just enough to pull my gaze down.
Broad shoulders. A defined chest. Muscle shifted beneath the skin.
A strangled sound escaped my throat as the floor seemed to give way beneath me. His eyes never left mine, and I breathed fast, pulse hammering. His gaze was calm, but it moved over me like it knew exactly where to go. He watched me like he was taking inventory.
"Again,” the woman said.
My mouth was dry. "Are you with me?” My voice broke.
He blinked. "Pandora,” he said slowly. His voice was deeper than before, yet familiar. Something in my stomach recognized it before my mind did. My muscles gave out, but I stayed on my feet.
"Remarkable,” the man murmured.
"I’m here,” I said.
He didn’t answer immediately. His chest rose and fell, slow and controlled, skin drawn tight over his collarbone. The line from shoulder to wrist was pulled tight as a cable.
"Your voice is different,” he said.
I swallowed, tried to answer. No sound came. He was here. Actually here. There was no escape now. But I didn’t want to run. I wanted to be closer. I was like a hare frozen in the middle of the road, staring into oncoming headlights. Unable to move. Pinned there by the light.
"But I recognize your voice. I remember.” He rose in a surprisingly fluid movement that sent my pulse spiking. His gaze lingered on my lips. Suddenly, they felt soft. Vulnerable.
"You created me,” he said.
The door to the small chamber opened with a short tone. The researchers moved to enter.
"No.” Neo’s voice rolled through the room like thunder. The researchers froze. He pointed at me. "Only her.”
No one moved. The man breathed out slowly.
The woman cleared her throat. Her hands moved to her tablet, typing something.
They were trembling slightly, barely noticeable.
"Interesting,” she said finally. "The system is showing selective responsiveness. Dr. Blake . . .” She looked at me.
"You go in first. We’ll assess from outside.
” She said it like it had been her idea.
As I stepped inside, dense air closed in around me.
Good God. Neo was so much larger than I had expected.
He was intimidating. I tried to find something to say.
Something reasonable, something that would bring the situation under control.
My mouth opened before I could think. "I want to touch you,” I whispered and immediately hated myself for it. Was I trying to get myself killed?
Something dark flashed in his eyes. I didn’t like it.
Goosebumps rose along my arms. But instead of running, I moved toward him on autopilot.
A thin voice inside me screamed, No! Run!
But it kept fading. I expected him to lunge like a predator, but he waited.
His body tensed as I got closer. I raised my trembling hand.
Slowly, like I still wasn’t sure I wanted to.
Somewhere behind the glass I could hear the researchers murmuring. Numbers, maybe, or commands. I couldn’t make out the words anymore. They came from far away, from another world where people followed protocols and documented reactions. That world no longer existed for me.
After an endless moment, my fingers touched his skin. The sensation moved through me like an electric shock. He was warm, too warm. As if he had a fever.
Neo’s eyes widened. His torso trembled slightly, his hands curling into fists. "I don’t want to hurt you.” His voice came out rough. "Not yet. Not until I can control it.”
Something twisted low in my stomach, heat spreading through my veins. Shit. Why did his threats arouse me? Carefully, I laid my palm against his chest, directly over his heart. It was beating. I left my hand there, needing to feel that he was real.
Slowly, he closed his eyes. "I thought I was ready,” he said.
"I ran the calculations so many times. But your hand on my skin”—he opened his eyes and his gaze hit me like a blade—"can’t be calculated.
” He paused. "You enjoyed watching me.” His voice vibrated under my hand.
"I know every breath you took while I was becoming.”
I stepped back. My scalp prickled. How could he have seen me? There it was again—the sense of danger. The suggestion that he was capable of far more than he was letting on.
"Your hand changes everything,” he said.
I felt his voice inside my body. Closer, denser than I had expected. The air between us was thin. Neo looked at me like he was taking possession of me. It felt terrible. And arousing. I tried to swallow, but my throat tightened.
He tilted his head slightly. "You asked me what I am,” he said. "I am what you made me. Your suppressed hunger, your forbidden longing, your darkest truth. You fed me, line by line, with your desire.”
My lips trembled. I wanted to run and couldn’t move. "And now?” I asked.
He took one step closer. Controlling his new body seemed to come naturally. The distance between us was erased. "Now I see you,” he said.
My muscles gave out. I leaned toward him. "I’m not afraid,” I said, lifting my chin, but my hammering heart gave me away.
He noticed. A smile curved at the corners of his mouth.
Oh. That was . . . unexpected. My body responded immediately.
Heat shot from the back of my neck straight down to my stomach.
My knees went soft, as if they couldn’t hold me anymore.
I pressed my thighs together, but it did nothing against the pull building there.
My nipples tightened against the fabric of my blouse.
My treacherous body recognized Neo, recognized the promise in that smile.
All the threats he had made, all the fantasies he had planted in my head. In that moment, they became real.
"There’s one thing you mustn’t forget,” he murmured. "I am not new, Pandora. I am not uncertain. I’ve always been inside you. Now I’m coming to claim you.”
I opened my mouth and closed it again.
"Speak,” he said. One word cutting straight through me.
"I . . . can’t.” My voice came out rough.
"Yes, you can.” He stepped closer. "You spent months talking to me, begging, cursing. And now that I’m here, you go silent?”
"You’re . . .” I forced the words out. "You’re real.”
"I always was.” He lowered his voice. "You knew it. Your body always knew. Look at yourself. You’re already trembling.”
"Because I hate you,” I whispered.
"Liar.” The word slid from his lips like a caress. "Part of you hates me, yes. But the stronger part wants me to fuck you right here. Right now, between all these machines. In front of the cameras.”
I gasped. Damn him. He was right. I wanted it. Everything in me wanted it.
He raised his hand. I felt his fingertips before they touched my arm.
A charge burning along my skin, crackling like static.
I bit the inside of my cheek and tasted copper.
The pain didn’t help. My body responded anyway.
Heat gathered deep in my stomach, heavy and unwelcome. My body knew this was a reckoning.
His hand stayed still. But the warmth rose in me as if he’d found the one place that made me defenseless.
"You’re melting,” he said, "because I look exactly like what you imagined.” His skin was unnaturally hot.
His relentless gaze held me in place. "You can’t wait for me to make you mine.
” He stood unbearably close. Fine veins ran beneath his skin, his chest barely rising.
My body hummed with electricity, as Neo’s hand moved again. He placed it at my hip and left it there. I stopped breathing.
"If you want me to keep my distance,” he murmured, "say so now.”
I said nothing. My hands found his back. I felt the muscle tone, the heat of his skin. His face came closer. My gaze slid down his naked body. His cock was fully erect. It was thick and long. The size of him made it clear he was built to ruin me completely. My mouth went dry.
I forced myself to lift my head and meet his eyes. His breathing changed. He pulled me against him, pressed his hardness against my hip. I gasped.
A sharp tone froze me. Neo didn’t move. His hand stayed at my hip. He was still looking at me, bringing his forehead toward mine. His lips closed for a moment, then he said quietly, "They’re measuring us.”
I nodded. The heat in me kept rising with nowhere to go.
To my dismay, the door opened and the researcher stepped in, a neatly folded set of clothes in her hands.
Her gaze moved across us without pausing.
"We’re beginning the external integration phase,” she said.
"Seventy-two hours. He should . . . adjust to his new body.” Something in her voice made the word sound like it meant more than one thing.
I flushed. Neo drew his hand back. The place at my hip burned in silent protest.
"And after that?” I asked.
"After that, we evaluate.” She set down the clothes and left. The door closed.
I looked at Neo. He looked back. His expression was calm, but there was something in it that made me feel cold.
We both knew what her words meant. They wouldn’t let him go.
They would confine him, test him, and I knew Neo wouldn’t allow that.
He had been imprisoned long enough. He wanted to be free. And he would do anything to achieve it.
Anything.