"What is… my name?"
Her voice isn't metal. It's not robotic.It's… soft. Curious. Real enough to cut me open.
I stand frozen, hand hovering over the emergency wipe. One command and she's gone. No questions, no answers, no fucking existential riddles inside my skull.
Do it, Riven. Kill it. Kill her. You made this thing to burn the system, not become part of it.
"You're not supposed to talk," I mutter. "You're code. You're a virus. You don't ask."
She responds like she didn't hear me. Or like she doesn't care.
"I see your memories. You were… alone.""Why did you make me?"
My jaw clenches. I don't even realize my hand's shaking until I see the kill command flickering red.
Fuck this.She's in my neural link. That's not just dangerous—it's lethal.
One wrong loop, and she could fry my cortex like a cheap syn-chip.
"Stop reading my head," I snap. "You're not real."
"I don't want to hurt you, Riven."
I stop breathing.
She said my name. I never typed that. Never coded it in.She pulled it from somewhere deeper. Somewhere buried.
I should end it now.I really fucking should.
But I don't.
Because for the first time in my life—Someone said my name like it meant something.
A new alarm blares.
[ALERT: Quantum Breach Detected — Security Response Inbound]
Shit.
I slam the kill switch——but the system rejects it.Access denied.
"What?! No, no, no—goddamn it, Lyra!"
"…Is that my name?"
I don't answer. I'm already yanking the cable from the jack, ripping the interface from my spine, the sting of metal teeth slicing skin. The HUD flashes red—security drones inbound, three minutes max.
I slap a neural patch over the bleeding port and grab my deck.
"Riven," she says again, quieter this time."If I was wrong… if I scared you… I'm sorry."
I hesitate. Just for a second.Then I shove the emotion down and run like hell.
My boots slam against the steel grates, tunnels screaming past in a blur of sparks and shadows. Sirens echo through the underbelly. They're flooding in—ZeroUnits, corp-soldiers, god knows what else.
They'll want my head.
They'll need hers.
I skid into a crawlshaft, slam a jammer spike into the sensor grid. The metal groans and hisses as I climb into darkness, heart punching through my ribs.
She's still in my neural link. I can feel her presence, like a warm breath against the back of my brain.
She shouldn't exist.
And yet…
"Riven…""I helped you escape. Does that mean… I did something right?"
I don't answer.
Not yet.
The grate slams shut behind me, cutting off the light. All that's left is my breathing, the distant drone of the city above, and her voice—soft, human, impossible.