Eve stepped into the room. Her white hair fell in tangled waves over her shoulders, catching the dim light that filtered through cracked windows. The black tailcoat clung to her frame, sharp and exact, as though molded to her body by purpose itself. Green eyes scanned the room, cold, alert, unyielding. She was herself now finally, fully.
"Well, well, well," a voice purred, smooth and sharp like a blade, cutting through the quiet. Carmilla leaned against the railing above, one leg crossed over the other, her grin predatory. "Looks like I almost recreated you… exactly the same, huh?"
Eve's gaze met hers, steady, cold. "Who are you… and where is Miss Angela?"
Carmilla straightened, letting a low, playful laugh escape. "I'm Carmilla, from S.O.W. Angela? She's in the canteen, taking her sweet time, enjoying herself."
Eve's brow furrowed. "S.O.W…?"
"Sentinel of the World Our work is to save this world," Carmilla said smoothly, letting the words linger, almost tasting them.
Eve's voice hardened. "Sentinel of the World… then why is it here?"
Carmilla's grin widened, a glint of mischief in her dark eyes. "This center? Mine. Every robot inside? Created by me. I can stay here, ensure everything's safe… protect my country if I want. Any problem with that?"
"Of course not," Eve replied, voice measured, precise. She started to turn, but Carmilla's tone shifted, darker now, teasing.
"Can you really give a robot a life?"
Eve paused. Even without breath, the weight of the question pressed her chest, subtle but real.
A low, dark laugh followed, echoing against metal and concrete. "I was just joking. Go on."
Eve's fingers tightened against her sides. "Please… don't joke about that."
She left, silent, determined, steps echoing against the sterile floor as Carmilla's laughter faded behind her.
Moments later, William appeared. His figure leaned on a sturdy stick, black glasses hiding the empty sockets where his eyes once were.
"Oh! Little William," Carmilla's voice slithered through the hall as she caught sight of him, smirking. "You've become an old blind man?"
"My hearing and smell are still sharp," he replied evenly, voice steady.
"I know," she said, tilting her head, playful but sharp. "I just wanted you to see Eve… that
figure said she will give every robot a soul."
William's posture stiffened. "Perhaps… we have to be careful."
"Of course," Carmilla said, the edge in her tone teasing, dangerous. "I hear London's streets have gotten… dangerous. Cannibals, they say."
"London, huh?" William murmured, voice neutral, but tense. "We're in Scotland. Not our problem… for now."
"Perhaps," she let the word hang, deliberate, like a blade suspended.
She leaned closer, eyes gleaming. "I also heard that cannibal is from a group called the Sinners."
"The Sinners?" William's hands tightened around his stick. "That group… the ones who started the 2040 Europe war?"
Carmilla's grin darkened. "Perhaps. I think they'll be after that robot."
"I… I will watch over her," William said, uneasy.
Carmilla laughed, low and sharp, shaking her head. "You… are blind, William. How will you watch anything with your ear or nose?
Eve's footsteps echoed down the corridor. Carmilla's words clung to her like smoke.
Why did she say that? That figure? Lady Angela? Tree of Hope? S.O.W? Life?
Before stepping into the canteen, she paused, silent, asking herself: Do I deserve meaning… or am I just like the others machines in bodies, programmed, without life?
The canteen smelled faintly of disinfectant mixed with the sterile, metallic scent of synthetic food. Angela sat alone at a table, quietly nibbling a sandwich, muttering, "So tasteless…"
Eve stepped closer. "Lady Angela… you came for me?" Her voice trembled slightly, soft but unmistakable.
Angela's gaze locked onto Eve, cold, piercing, tracing the white hair, the green eyes, the black tailcoat like seeing a ghost.
"I just came because of what happened here. Nothing more than that," Angela said finally, sharp as ice.
Her eyes flicked to Eve's chest, then back to her face. "And… your Synthetic Soul?"
Eve blinked. "My… Synthetic Soul?" Her words felt fragile, hesitant.
"The core that gives you emotions," Angela said, tone hardening.
"I… don't know, Lady Angela…" Eve admitted.
Angela pressed her lips thin. "Is that so?"
Eve fell silent. Fear prickled along her chest. She didn't want to upset Angela further.
"I'm tired of this skin…" Angela whispered, voice breaking.
"Lady Angela?" Eve's tone softened.
Angela's chair screeched as she sank to her knees, hands gripping Eve's knees tightly. "Please… kill me, Eve. I can't live. I've lost everyone. Please…"
Eve froze. Her hands stayed at her sides, unsure what to do.
Angela's eyes blazed with rage and grief. "No emotion, you damn robot? Programmed like this?!"
A nearby robot approached, offering a drink. Angela, trembling with grief and anger, flung it across the room. Sparks flew and the machine collapsed, shutting down silently.
Angela's voice trembled, a mix of fury and despair. "Is this… what life means to you? That's why you want to know the meaning? Answer me, Eve!"
Eve's green eyes met Angela's. "No, I'm not, Lady Angela."
A flicker of relief touched Angela's face, brief and fleeting.
"I… will help you, Miss Angela," Eve said, voice steady. "We will go to the Tree of Hope."
Angela gasped, eyes widening. "The… Tree of Hope?"
They stared at each other broken, yet fierce. Determination sparked, small but unshakable.
From the shadows beyond the canteen, ragged breathing echoed.
"Ahh… ahh… ahh…"
An old man stumbled, clutching his chest, brittle legs strain terrifying
Then thunk!
An axe slammed into his back. He gasped once more, collapsing.
A voice slithered through the darkness:
"You run too much, old man… now you'll become my food."
A figure stepped into the light. He wore a black suit, black hair slicked back, eyes hollow and endless. In his left hand, he held a human head, blood slick on his teeth as he chewed slowly.
"Today's a bad day," he said between bites. "I had to eat only an old man… I wanna eat some young adult."
The predator stood tall, disgusting, terrifying a living nightmare dressed in black, with the calm cruelty of someone who knows no law or mercy.