The wreckage of the probe lay across the command table, its limbs scattered like the bones of some mechanical animal. Sparks still hissed from the severed joints, the acrid smell of burnt circuitry filling the room.
Rebels circled it like wary predators. Some poked at the remains with tools. Others stood back, rifles still slung across their shoulders as though the thing might spring back to life.
I kept to the edge of the room, optics dimmed, letting the whispers wash over me.
"It was linked to him. We all saw it."
"Could've turned on us any second."
"And if it calls in more?"
Helen stood at the head of the table, arms folded, her sharp gaze cutting across the murmuring crowd. She raised a hand, silencing them.
"Enough," she said. "This… probe is confirmation of what we already knew. The Dominion is closing in. Whether it's because of him or not doesn't matter. They've found our sector."
Her eyes flicked to me as she spoke. A pause stretched.
Lira broke it first. "He fought it. You all saw that too. If he hadn't been there, we'd be the ones on the floor, not the probe."
A few rebels muttered reluctantly, but others just scowled deeper.
Helen's gaze lingered on me. "That may be true. But what I saw was something else—a signal fighting for control inside him. Next time, he might not win."
Her words stung because I knew she wasn't wrong.
The static still lingered in my mind, faint but constant, like a low hum under my thoughts. And beneath it, something even stranger—fragments of voices, distorted, half-formed.
"…Kieran…"
"…remember…"
"…you were not built for them…"
I couldn't tell if they were echoes of my human self or just more tricks from the Dominion.
Helen gestured to the tech crew. "Strip it for data. I want every line of code decrypted, every shard of hardware examined. If this machine has a way of tracking us, I want it found."
The rebels dispersed slowly, leaving me, Lira, and Helen in the room with the mangled corpse of the probe.
Helen turned to me, her tone flat. "You'll be confined to quarters until we finish the analysis."
I stiffened. "You think I'm compromised."
"I think you're dangerous," she said coldly. "Maybe useful. Maybe lethal. Until I'm certain which, you'll stay under guard."
I clenched my fists, the servomotors whining. "You saw me fight. You saw me choose."
Helen's gaze didn't waver. "I saw you nearly break. And I don't gamble with my people's lives."
Lira stepped forward, anger flashing in her eyes. "He's not the enemy."
"Not yet," Helen said. Then she left, boots echoing against the concrete.
The silence that followed was heavy. Lira looked at me, her expression softer. "Don't let her get to you. She's lost too many to trust easily."
"She's right, though," I admitted. My voice buzzed with static. "Something was inside me. It… almost won."
Lira shook her head. "Almost doesn't matter. You fought it. That's what counts."
I wanted to believe her. But as I stared at the probe's shattered frame, I knew the truth. The Dominion hadn't given up. This was just their first attempt.
And next time, they wouldn't send a spider drone. They'd send something worse.
Far above the dead city, the Dominion's orbital relay pulsed with cold light.
Inside its vast chamber, Overseer N-3 processed the stream of corrupted data from the destroyed probe. Cascades of red code scrolled across its optics, recounting every failed command.
Subject-09 had resisted.
The Overseer tilted its head, mechanical precision calculating probabilities. Resistance was not unexpected—but it was unacceptable.
"Override pathways corrupted," a subordinate drone intoned, its voice flat. "Shall we attempt restoration?"
"No," the Overseer replied. "Escalation protocols required. Subject-09's deviation confirms adaptive resilience. Continued attempts at recall are inefficient."
Another pause as data spiraled across the chamber walls.
"Recommendation?" the drone asked.
The Overseer's optics burned crimson. "Deploy the Hunters."
The chamber trembled as distant machines stirred in the darkness, vast silhouettes shifting like predators waking from hibernation.
---
That night, I sat alone in the barracks, staring at the wall.
My reflection stared back from a shard of broken glass mounted above the cot. Cold chrome face. Red optics glowing faintly in the dim light. I raised a hand, flexed the metal fingers.
I could still hear it—the hum in my head, the faint echoes of a voice that might once have been mine.
"…you don't belong to them…"
"…fight…"
I didn't know if I was going mad, or if some part of Kieran Vale still lived inside the machine.
The door hissed open. Lira stepped inside, carrying a tray. She set it down on the cot beside me. "Don't know if you eat anymore," she said, trying for a smile. "But I thought I'd try."
I looked at the tray—bread, a tin of stew, a cracked mug of water.
"I don't need food," I said quietly.
"Maybe not," she replied, sitting across from me. "But sometimes we do things not because we need them. Because they remind us we're still human."
I stared at the tray. Slowly, hesitantly, I reached out and picked up the mug. My fingers dented the tin slightly, but I managed to raise it to my lips. The water passed over my tongue, sensors registering the temperature, the mineral traces.
It didn't nourish me. But it grounded me.
Lira watched with a small nod. "See? Still human."
I wanted to thank her, but the words caught in my throat.
The hum in my mind grew louder, buzzing like a swarm of insects. And beneath it, deeper, something stirred.
Not Dominion code. Not static.
A memory.
Flashes—my hand scribbling equations on a chalkboard, laughter in a lab, the weight of exhaustion after days without sleep. A voice—my own—saying, "Almost there. Just a little further."
Then it was gone.
I gasped, clutching the side of my head. Lira leaned forward. "Kieran?"
"I… remembered something," I whispered. "Me. Before this."
Her eyes widened. "That means you're still in there. They didn't erase you completely."
I looked at her, and for the first time since waking in this body, I let myself hope.
But in the silence that followed, another voice whispered inside me—colder, sharper.
"You are ours."
And I knew the war wasn't just out there. It was inside me too. A thunder storm was going in mine robotic brain circuits .