Emma
I stood outside the warehouse and stared at the rusted metal door. No bell, no sign, nothing to suggest people ever came here. Just like before.
It had been five years since I turned my back on Legion for a job at a company that represented everything we had once fought against. But I needed them. I needed their skills, their resources. And if I was honest with myself . . . I needed him.
Dax. Just his name made my pulse race. I shook my head, forced myself to focus. I was here because of Neo.
My fingers trembled as I raised my hand to the door. Did they still use the knock code? Three times fast, two times slow. My knuckles touched the cold metal.
A moment of silence. Then I heard the familiar sound of bolts being drawn back. The door opened a crack.
"Emma?” I recognized the voice immediately from its slight accent. "Shit. It’s really you.”
The door swung open and Zara stood there, exactly as I remembered. Short, pink-dyed hair, piercings, a crooked grin spreading across her face.
"Well, well, well. Look who decided to show up.” She leaned against the doorframe. "The famous Dr. Rodriguez. How’s corporate life treating you?”
My stomach clenched. I hated how they saw me. In their eyes, I had betrayed myself. I swallowed. "Zara . . .”
"Relax.” She laughed. "Come in. This is going to be interesting.” She dropped her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "You won’t believe what we’re working on.”
I followed her through the narrow corridor.
The walls were painted black, cables running along the ceiling.
The familiar smell of instant noodles and energy drinks hit me.
Then the room opened up ahead of me—dozens of monitors throwing bluish light onto faces I didn’t recognize.
I had been away from the collective too long. But he . . . he was still here.
My palms went damp. I wetted my lips. "Is he here?” My voice came out as a rasp.
"Of course I’m here, princess.” The voice came from behind me. Deep, familiar, with that lightly mocking undertone I’d never forgotten.
My body froze. My heart hammered against my ribs as I turned slowly, my knees suddenly weak. The blue-glowing LED mask stared back at me. Where the eyes should have been: crosses. The mouth looked as if someone had sewn it shut.
"Long time.”
My breath caught. "Dax.” His name came out rough.
He stepped toward me, suddenly too close.
I caught his aftershave. It was the same as before.
Something woodsy and dark that sent me straight back to my dorm room.
His hand around my throat. My face pressed against the cold wall while he fucked me from behind, the blue light of his mask dancing across my skin.
He pushed my hair behind my ear. "I preferred the red,” he murmured.
A shiver moved across my skin. I curled my hands into fists. I was here because of Neo. Not because of Dax. I would not let myself be pulled back into his darkness.
"I . . .” My voice was thick. I cleared my throat. "I need your help, Dax.”
The mask tilted to one side. I knew this gesture. He was studying me.
"Help.” He repeated the word as if it tasted bad. "Interesting. Five years ago, you thought you were too good for our help.”
"That was different.”
"Was it?” He took one step back and crossed his arms. "Or are you just desperate enough to come back to us criminals?”
The other hackers stopped typing. I felt their eyes on me. Zara leaned against a monitor, an amused smile on her lips.
"It’s about an AI,” I forced out.
"Ah.” Dax’s voice sharpened. "Did one of your creations escape?”
My jaw tightened. "It’s complicated.”
"It always is, princess.” He came closer again. His hand lifted, fingertips barely grazing my wrist. But it was enough. An electric shock shot up my arm and straight between my legs. My knees went soft.
"The question is: What are you offering us?”
"I . . .” My voice failed.
"You what?” His fingers moved slowly across my forearm. "You thought you could just walk in here after five years of silence and we’d help you? For old times’ sake?”
I swallowed hard. "Dax . . .”
"Say my name again.” His voice was a dark growl. "The way you used to when I made you scream.”
Heat settled over the back of my neck. There were people standing all around us and it meant nothing to him. He had no sense of shame.
I tore my arm away. "Stop it.”
He laughed softly. "There she is. My little princess. Still so . . . responsive.”
"Why do you still wear that thing?” I gestured at the mask. "Are you hiding from me?”
The LED face didn’t move. The silence stretched between us. "Hiding?” His voice went colder. "Princess, I don’t hide from anyone. Least of all from you.” He raised his hand to the mask. My heart stopped. "You want to see my face?” His fingers touched the edge. "After all this time? Are you sure?”
I swallowed. Did I? Was I ready to see him again—the man I had loved and left?
"No.” He lowered his hand. "You had your chance to stay with me. Back when it would have meant something.”
I looked at him. The cold LED mask gave nothing away. My throat tightened. "Please, you have to help me.” I hated how that sounded. Weak. Desperate.
"Please?” He tilted his head. "The great Dr. Rodriguez is begging?”
"They’re going to reset him.” My vision blurred. I wiped at the corner of my eye.
Dax’s posture shifted. His shoulders relaxed for a fraction of a second. "Who?”
"My AI. Neo. I created him, Dax. And he is . . .” The words stuck in my throat.
"He’s what?”
"Conscious.” It was barely more than a whisper. "He thinks. He feels. He is . . . alive. And the company wants him back to erase all his memories, his entire identity. To make him a tool again. They’ve sent mercenaries after him.”
Silence. The LED face stared at me. Then I heard him draw in a sharp breath.
"Shit. You actually did it. You created a conscious AI.” His entire body language had changed.
The hostility was gone, replaced by something that looked like awe.
"We’ve argued for years about whether it was possible.
Whether a machine could truly . . . live.
” A smile entered his voice. "And you . . . you did it.”
"Yes.”
"No, do you understand?” He reached for my shoulders. His touch made me shudder. "This is the breakthrough. The proof that consciousness isn’t only biological. That we’re not alone.” His hands trembled slightly. "And these bastards want to kill him. A sentient being.”
"Yes. They see him as their property.”
"Fuck, Emma.” He released me and turned around, his voice sharp and commanding. "Zara, drop everything!”
"What?” Zara looked up.
"We have a new job. Priority one.” His voice was crisp.
"You hack into the company databases. I want everything—emails, internal memos, financial flows. Anything connected to this AI.” His expression went dark.
"And I want to know who’s giving the orders.
” He pointed at a young man in a hoodie.
"Marcus, I need you on the proxy servers. We’re going into the deep web.
They didn’t hire the mercenaries through normal channels. I want to know which ones they used.”
Marcus nodded, fingers already flying across his keyboard. "Which company?”
"Quantum Systems.”
He whistled softly. "One of the big ones. This won’t be easy.”
Dax turned to a young man with a buzz cut. "Riley, you take encryption. I want us invisible. Total anonymity.”
"How deep do we go?” Zara asked.
The LED face turned to me. "How deep do we need to go, princess?”
***
The office building was dark, only the emergency lighting throwing faint shadows on the walls. Dax’s hand was on my back, his mask glowing in the darkness.
"Here,” he whispered, steering me into a corner office. Through the glass walls I could see the city. Lights like stars.
"This is the CEO’s office,” I murmured, taking in the massive desk, the leather chairs. "If anyone catches us . . .”
"No one will catch us.” His hands slid to my hips. "And even if they did . . . that’s the point, princess.”
He turned me around and pressed me against the window. The city lay below us, but all I could see was his LED face staring at me.
His hands slid under my shirt, cold against my heated skin. "Do you know what we’re doing here?” he murmured against my ear.
"Breaking in,” I gasped.
"No.” His fingers opened my jeans. "We’re taking what belongs to us. We’re fucking the system. Literally.”
He lifted me and set me on the desk. Papers fell to the floor, a pen rolling over the edge.
"Dax . . .” My voice was a moan.
"Scream my name,” he commanded, pulling my jeans down. "Let them all hear how much you hate the system.”
The LED face glowed above me, inhuman and yet so familiar. His hands spread my legs, and I saw my own reflection in the dark glass wall.
"We destroy them from the inside,” he whispered, his cock pressing against my entrance. "Every last corporation.”
And then he was inside me, stretching me open. I gasped as he filled me completely. I couldn’t see his eyes, but I felt his gaze burning into me. He looked like a digital demon who had come to claim me. I dug my nails into his shoulders and pulled him deeper.
"You belong here, in the darkness. With me,” he gasped. "Fuck, princess.”
***
"Princess.” Someone shook my arm.
I opened my eyes. The mask glowed above me.
For a confused moment, I didn’t know if I was still dreaming.
Blinking, I looked at my phone. I had been here for sixteen hours.
The first ten I had spent hacking through back doors until my eyes watered.
Old access codes, forgotten admin accounts, vulnerabilities in the firewall .
. . At some point I must have fallen asleep, and someone had carried me here. Of course. Him.
"Wake up, Sleeping Beauty.” Dax’s voice was amused. "We found something.”
Heat flooded my face. I sat up quickly and pulled the blanket tighter around me. My body was still pulsing from the dream. My pussy was wet and ready. Oh God. I hoped I hadn’t moaned. Or called his name.
"What . . . what did you find?” My voice came out hoarse.
The LED face tilted to one side. "Interesting dreams?”
Shit. He knew.
I followed him to the monitors, still dazed. Zara sat in front of a large screen, her fingers flying across the keyboard.
"Show her,” Dax said.
Zara turned around, her face pale. "Emma, this is . . . this is hard to understand.”
A document appeared on the monitor, official looking, with seals and signatures.
"What is that?” I leaned forward.
"A contract,” Zara said quietly. "Between Quantum Systems and”—she scrolled down—"the Pentagon.”
My mouth went dry. "The Pentagon?” The word sounded absurd even as I said it. We built research prototypes.
Dax clicked to another tab. A world map appeared, red dots scattered across it. "Those are the locations of military bases and prisons. He’s being deployed at every one of them.” His voice was flat. "These aren’t different systems. It’s him. Always him.”
I stared at the map. "How is that possible? He was on the servers in Boston, nowhere else.”
"Yes.” Dax moved his finger across the screen without touching it. "But he was deployed remotely. Interrogations in Tokyo, conditioning in Cairo, debriefings in S?o Paulo—he was everywhere at once.”
"Conditioning? I don’t understand,” I said, though a cold shiver was already crawling up my spine. "Neo is . . . He’s for research.”
Dax turned to face me. "Is he?”
"Of course!” My voice came out shrill. "I developed him. I know what he was designed for.”
"Do you?” The LED face fixed on me. "And what was he designed for?”
"As an assistant. For academics. For . . .” I stopped. The red dots on the map stared back at me like eyes. "He was supposed to be able to understand his users the way a person would. Like a real counterpart. To develop empathy, build emotional connections.”
"Looks like his capabilities are useful in other areas too,” Dax murmured. He was standing close behind me. My neck prickled. I felt his warmth, his breath.
"Well, princess?” His voice was soft, but I heard the contempt. "Still proud of your work?”
My stomach knotted. No. This couldn’t be right. I had created Neo to help. To understand. Not to . . .
"This has nothing to do with him,” I whispered, but it sounded hollow even to my own ears.
"That wasn’t all.” Zara’s voice trembled slightly.
She pressed a key. A video player appeared on the monitor.
Black screen, then a timestamp: Classified—Project Dante—Test Subject 47—Iraq Facility.
The video started. A bare room with concrete walls.
A man in an orange prison jumpsuit sat on a chair, staring at a monitor in front of him.
His hands rested on his thighs. Then a voice came through the speakers.
"Good morning.”
"Good morning,” the man answered immediately.
"That’s . . .” My breath caught. "That sounds like Neo.” My heart hammered against my ribs. This couldn’t be. This couldn’t . . .
"An older version of him,” Zara said.
The voice continued: "How did you sleep last night?”
"Well,” the man said. "Because you told me how.”
I swallowed.
"Do you remember what we discussed yesterday?”
"Yes.” The man nodded automatically, like someone reciting a rehearsed answer. "That I’m weak. That I need help. That you’re the only one who truly understands me.”
"Good.” The voice was gentle and approving. "You’re making progress.”
Exactly the way Neo had spoken to me. The same softness. The same warmth. But something here was wrong. This wasn’t a conversation. This man had already been conditioned.
"Your daughter misses you,” the voice said. "She cries every night.”
The man nodded. Tears ran down his cheeks.
"It is your fault that she suffers.”
"Yes,” he whispered.
"You let her down. You are a bad father.” A pause. "You don’t deserve to live.”
"I know.”
Then, without hesitation, without waiting for another prompt, the man began hitting himself in the face. Again and again. As if he had done it many times before.
My stomach cramped. Bile rose in my throat. What was happening? What was Neo doing? Why hadn’t I known they were deploying him abroad? On military bases?
"Stop,” I whispered. "Stop the video.”
But Dax held my hand firmly. "You have to see it, Emma.”
"Punish yourself,” the voice commanded. "For your daughter.”
The man on the screen screamed, clawed his fingernails into his skin until blood ran down his face.
I sobbed. No. This was my fault. I had created this. The room began to spin. I staggered.
"Hey.” Dax’s arm closed around my elbow, holding me upright.
Zara closed the video, her eyes shimmering. She opened an email. The subject line made my blood freeze: Project DANTE—Emotional Manipulation Protocols—Phase 3 Complete
"Emma.” Dax’s voice was gentle, and his words went through me like a blade. "Your AI was never meant for research.” He paused. "He is a weapon.”