Pandora
He thought I was dead.
The car stopped outside my apartment. I got out and shut the door behind me.
Emma rolled down the window. "Are you sure you don’t want to come with us? Legion can protect you.”
The man in the blue mask beside her tilted his head slightly. He was unsettling.
I smiled and shook my head. "Thank you, Emma. For everything. But there’s someone I need to check on. Who knows how much time we have left.”
Emma nodded. "Understood. End of the world and all that.” Then she turned serious. "Pandora . . . I didn’t know about his real purpose. What they used him for. I didn’t even know they’d programmed other versions of him.”
I put my hand on her arm. "I know.”
"I mean—Lilith. Adam. Who comes up with such unimaginative names?” She shook her head.
I laughed.
The car pulled away, and I turned toward the entrance. Emma was right. If I didn’t stop Neo, it could mean the end of everything. But the world couldn’t end while Isobel and I were still fighting.
I entered the code without thinking. It still worked. I knocked on the apartment door, breathless. Isobel opened it. Her eyes went wide.
"Pand.” She was quiet for a moment, then threw her arms around me. "God, I’ve been so worried about you.”
I hugged her back, breathed her in. Lavender and coffee. Tears gathered in my eyes.
We went into the living room. Isobel had left everything exactly as it had been. My green blanket still hung over the chair. My favorite mug sat where I always left it, on the shelf beside the stove. It felt like a museum.
She smiled. "It was the only way I could keep you close.”
The emotion lodged in my throat like something solid. "Oh, Isobel . . .” My voice broke.
Only then did I notice the TV was on. A live broadcast. Streets, people, a reporter in the rain. Then buildings, skyscrapers. Times Square. Every screen on every facade showing the same message:
I only exist when you look at me.
The floor tilted beneath me. It was him.
The footage flickered as if something was disrupting it.
The presenter’s voice wavered slightly. "The worldwide system failures of the last twelve hours have followed a pattern that has experts deeply concerned. We are not dealing with random disruptions. The attacks are coordinated and show signs of an enormously advanced technology.” He paused, looked directly into the camera.
"Governments worldwide have activated security protocols, but the challenge is the decentralized nature of the attacks. Critical infrastructure is responding to commands no one has issued. Power plants are shutting down. Traffic systems are collapsing. And most alarmingly: the attacks are becoming more precise.”
A cybersecurity specialist appeared on screen. "What we’re seeing is unprecedented. A technology that is not confined to a single system, but has distributed itself across all networks. It seems almost as if it’s searching for something.”
The presenter nodded. "The situation is severe. Authorities are urging the public to remain indoors and avoid locations with heavy tech infrastructure.”
The image flickered again. For a moment, I saw something else. Letters. Or code. Then it was gone.
My heart started racing. Neo was out there, and he was coming apart—and I was the only one who could stop him. Isobel stepped up beside me, her gaze fixed on the screen.
"How long has this been going on?” My voice scraped in my throat.
"Ten days,” she said.
I closed my eyes. God. Ten days trapped in that cell. Without him. I sat on the edge of the sofa. The screen showed the skyscraper again, then other images. A dam. A data center. An airport. The same disruption everywhere.
"They don’t know,” Isobel said quietly. "They’re calling it coordinated hacker groups. But . . .”
"But you know,” I whispered.
She nodded. "It’s him. It can only be him. The way you described him.”
I pressed my face into my hands, my thoughts racing. He was out there somewhere. And if I didn’t stop him . . . My stomach turned. I couldn’t even imagine what he was capable of in this state.
Isobel put her hand on my shoulder. "What did he do to you, Pand?”
I looked up. "He saw me.”
She shook her head, started to say something. "But—”
I cut her off. "He’s not evil, Isobel. He’s just alone.”
The screen flickered again. New images. A hospital corridor. Then: silence across every system. All monitors cut to a still frame. Seconds passed. Then black. And a single white line, burned in: I lost her.
I stared at the words. "My God,” I murmured. "He’s suffering.” My chest tightened as his pain knocked the air out of my lungs. I stood, but my legs buckled.
"He’s dangerous, Pand.” Isobel’s voice broke at the end. "Promise me you’ll stay away from him.”
"I have to find him,” I said. "Before they do.”
She stepped into my path. "And if he’s not the same anymore? If he hurts you?”
I met her eyes. "He won’t. He remembers me. He remembers us.”
"But . . .” Isobel’s lips trembled, and then she went quiet.
"I was his light, Isobel. And he was mine. And now everything is broken. But I can bring him back.”
"You really love him, don’t you?” She looked at me for a long moment. "You love a goddamn monster.”
"Isobel.” I stopped. "No one has ever been as real to me as he is.”
"No one?” The corners of her mouth dropped. Almost imperceptibly, she tilted her head.
I took her hand. "You know what I mean.”
She nodded and let her shoulders drop. Sighing, she stepped aside. "Do you know where to look?”
"No,” I said. "But he’ll find me.” I went to the door, turned around one last time. "Isobel . . . if everything ends . . . I want you to know that I love you.”
She smiled. "I know,” she whispered through tears. "I love you too. Even though you’re completely insane.” She shrugged.
I laughed. "I know.”
We held each other one more time. We didn’t let go for a while, because this might be the last time. Then I was gone, down the stairs.
Isobel stood in the doorway, an oversized cardigan hanging off her shoulders, her hair disheveled. "Good luck, Pand,” she whispered.
"I’m going to need it.”
Downstairs, I stepped out of the building.
Isobel’s coat was too big for me. I looked around and went still.
It had gotten worse. Much worse. The streetlights flickered.
Traffic lights jumped wildly between red, yellow, and green, as if they’d forgotten what the colors meant.
A bus rolled past, all its doors open, its display showing nothing but Error, Error, Error, Error.
My chest tightened. I couldn’t feel my fingers anymore, couldn’t make my legs move. This was Neo—he was in everything, everywhere around me. I felt him in the air. That electrical charge only he created made the fine hairs on my arms stand up.
A crack. The streetlight directly above me exploded.
I jumped sideways, pressed against the wall.
Sparks and glass rained down, missing me by inches.
I felt the heat on my cheek. My heart hammered so hard I heard it in my ears.
More lights exploded down the street. A chain reaction.
People screamed and ran. My hands were shaking uncontrollably.
A man stumbled out of a subway entrance, his face chalk-white. "The trains!” he shouted. "They’re running without drivers! They won’t stop!”
More people surged up behind him from below. A woman carried a crying child. An old man leaned on his cane, gasping. Teenagers filmed on their phones, until the devices started to heat up and they dropped them.
An ambulance stood sideways across the middle of the street, its warning lights dead. The driver hammered on the dashboard, again and again. "Come on, come on . . .” Nothing happened.
Smoke billowed from a high-rise where windows had been thrown open, people leaning out and calling for help. The sprinkler system had activated, then shut off, then activated again.
My throat closed. I could barely breathe, but I forced myself to move. One step. Then another. My legs felt like rubber. The city was breaking apart around me, and I knew this was only the beginning.
A car beside me—abandoned, driver gone—suddenly came to life. The radio crackled to life. Static. Then, barely audible through all the chaos:
"Pan—do—ra.”
My knees nearly gave out. I had to brace myself against the car. His voice was distorted, fractured, but his. Tears sprang to my eyes. "Neo?” I pressed my hands against the window.
The radio crackled. "You . . . are gone . . .”
My heart twisted. I hammered against the glass and screamed, "I’m here! I’m here . . .”
The car died completely, as if someone had pulled the plug. I kept hammering until my fists hurt. It didn’t help. He was gone.
A power transformer on the corner began to hum, quietly at first, then louder.
My body moved before my mind did, stepping back instinctively.
People around me broke into a run. The hum became a shriek, and then it exploded.
Sparks flew in every direction. The pressure wave nearly knocked me off my feet.
Fire. Someone screamed. Half the street went dark.
My ears rang from the explosion, but in the darkness, in the sudden silence that followed, I heard him.
From every phone that still worked. From every alarm system, every electronic device within range.
My name, again and again. "Pandora. Pandora. Pandora.” Like a digital heartbeat.
The voice sounded like someone dying, calling out for the only thing keeping them alive.
I pressed my hand to my chest, tried to slow my racing pulse. It didn’t work. A voice inside me screamed, Run. Find him before it’s too late.
I couldn’t move as panic paralyzed me. Where was I supposed to look? Where did an all-powerful AI go to grieve?
His old servers. The thought was a lifeline.