Angela sat on the cold floor of her lab, hands pressing against her knees. Another failure. Another day she could not reclaim what she had lost. Her mind spun in circles, replaying every experiment, every failed attempt, every time she thought she was closer to the body she once had.
Her reflection in the cracked mirror stared back at her. The synthetic skin covered the scars, made her look human but it never made her human. Her face, her body, her mind nothing could bring back what she once had. She traced her fingers over the smooth surface of the synthetic flesh. It felt real, but it wasn't. Every inch of her reminded her of what she had lost, what she could never get back.
A soft vibration broke her thoughts. Her phone lit up. A notification blinked: Eve – fully repaired. Would you like to come?
Angela's heart skipped. She whispered, almost to herself, "Eve…"
A memory flickered in her mind. She was little again, tossing a ball in the yard. Eve, the robot, moved mechanically, without a hint of joy. No smile. No laughter. Just motions, precise and empty. Angela's small hands had thrown the ball, hoping praying to see any sign of feeling.
"Eve, let's show some emotions," little Angela said eagerly.
"I… yaay… let's play," Eve had replied. Her voice flat. No joy, no energy.
Angela remembered the ache of disappointment, the hollow void she felt. She had wanted to play with her mom, but her mother was always busy. Always somewhere else. Other children laughed and played with their siblings, their parents. And here she was, alone with a machine that couldn't even pretend.
"Can't you act?" she had asked, frustration bubbling.
"I'm programmed like this," Eve had said softly. "I do not have emotions."
Angela's chest had tightened. That emptiness, that longing, had shaped her. She shook her head, trying to push away the memory. Yet it lingered, gnawing.
Her phone buzzed again. Miss Angela? Will you come to see her?
Angela froze. She wanted to say no. She didn't know why she even wanted to go. She felt a pull, a whisper she didn't understand. She hesitated, staring at the floor. Her hands fidgeted. Her fingers curled into the cracks of the tiles.
And then, without knowing why, she stood.
She moved toward the Robotics Center. Each step felt heavy. Uncertainty gripped her chest. Was it hope? Fear? Something in between? She didn't know. The walls and corridors of the city passed in a blur of concrete, flickering lights, and the faint hum of machinery.
Her mind wandered. What will I feel when I see Eve? The thought made her uneasy. Will she… be different? Will she—will she even notice me as Angela, not just the human who burned her?
Angela's heart raced. She wanted to turn back, but something stronger pushed her forward. A quiet, unexplainable desire.
Angela's mind raced as she walked. Every step echoed in her skull. She felt the cold air of the lab against her face, the sterile scent of machinery, the faint metallic tang in the air. She tried to steady herself. Why am I here? she thought. Why am I going to see Eve now?
Doubt clawed at her. Part of her wanted to flee, to retreat into the safety of failure where nothing could surprise her. But the pull was stronger. She felt it in her chest, twisting, urging, telling her that she had to see this through.
Her fingers brushed against the wall, tracing the grooves and cracks as if they could guide her. She noticed every sound: the hum of computers, the distant whir of a robot, the faint squeak of boots on metal floors. Everything was alive in its own way, mechanical yet pulsing with motion.
What will I say to her? she wondered. What will Eve say? Will she even recognize me? Will she… care?
Angela's chest tightened. Memories of Eve's blank expression, of her flat, mechanical motions, of her unfeeling voice I'm programmed like this came back. And yet, the thought of seeing her again, whole and repaired, made Angela's heart ache in a way she could not explain.
Maybe… maybe I want her to feel something this time, Angela thought. Maybe I want to see her… as more than a machine.
Her steps faltered. She stopped. She looked down at her hands, clenching them. I don't even know what I expect. Will she smile? Will she… cry?
Angela shook her head. The uncertainty pressed down, heavy as lead. But she could not move backward. Something in her whispered, Go forward.
And so she did.
Meanwhile, Eve's crimson eyes widened as she saw the figure standing before her.
Tall. Elegant. Her hair white as fresh snow, cascading almost to her waist. Her eyes, sharp and green, glimmered with something alive and calculating. A long sword rested against her back, its hilt polished, unnatural in its perfection.
Eve's sensors struggled to categorize her. She looked humanoid. But something about her presence… it was off. She didn't move like a human, yet she didn't move like a robot.
"You… have to live," the figure said. Her voice calm, but there was weight behind it a command that didn't demand obedience, but hinted at consequence.
Eve took a careful step back, analyzing every movement. Is she human? Or another machine? She couldn't tell. Her posture was fluid, organic but the precision was… inhuman.
"Uhh… who are you?" Eve asked, her voice trembling just slightly. She had no protocol for this. Her systems buzzed with uncertainty.
The figure's green eyes softened into a faint smile, just enough to be human-like. "You will find out later," she said. Her tone was firm, yet not threatening. "But first… take Angela to the Tree of Hope."
Eve tilted her head, scanning every inch of the figure. She looked around twenty, but the aura she carried suggested far more. There was power here. Authority. And yet… she felt no malice, only… purpose.
"Tree of Hope?" Eve asked, confusion lacing her synthetic voice. "What is it?"
The figure's gaze flicked toward Eve, almost like she could see inside her thoughts. "That… you will understand in time." Her hand brushed the hilt of the sword at her back. It glinted under the fluorescent lights. "But now, you have work to do. Take Angela there."
Eve processed the command, but a thousand questions ran through her mind. Why does she look human, but move like she's not? Why is she carrying a weapon? And why… does she command so naturally?
Before Eve could ask more, the sound of a door creaking echoed through the room.
Angela entered with a small robot trailing her, stepping cautiously. Her eyes widened as she froze mid-step, the weight of the unknown pressing down on her.
No words followed. No explanations. Only Angela's wide eyes staring, suspended in the moment of shock and anticipation.