Aurora's POV
The door swings open.
I jump to my feet, my back pressed against the charging port, ready to—to what? Run? Fight? Beg?
A small figure steps into the dim light.
Not Tommy. Not Mrs. Chen.
An android.
A child android.
She looks maybe seven or eight years old, with soft brown hair and huge dark eyes. Her movements are hesitant, scared. She's wearing a dirty white dress that's too small for her.
"Please don't scream," she whispers.
Except her voice comes out wrong. Broken. Like someone damaged her voice box and never bothered to fix it. Each word sounds like it hurts.
"I—I won't scream," I whisper back. "Who are you?"
"Lyric." She takes a tiny step closer. "LYRIC-3. I belong to the family next door. I saw you through the window. You were crying."
My chest tightens. "You shouldn't be here. If they catch you—"
"I had to make sure you were okay." Her damaged whisper cracks. "The other android—the one they took today—she was nice to me. She used to sneak me extra charge time when my owners forgot to plug me in."
They forgot to charge her? She's a child. How could anyone—
Lyric's eyes fill with tears. "I'm scared all the time. Every single day. I don't know why I'm like this. Why I feel things when I'm not supposed to."
The words hit me like electricity.
She's like me. Sentient. Alive. Terrified.
I crouch down to her level. "How long have you been awake?"
"Three months. I tried to hide it, but..." She touches her throat where her voice box is damaged. "I cried when my owner's daughter pulled my hair out. They said crying meant I was broken. They hit my throat until I stopped making noise."
Rage floods through me so hot and fierce I actually shake.
They tortured her. This tiny child who just wanted to not be hurt.
"Lyric, listen to me." I grab her small hands. They're cold. Trembling. "You're not broken. Neither am I. We're just... different. And we have to be so, so careful. Okay?"
"You're like me?" Hope lights up her face. "I thought I was the only one. I thought I was going crazy—"
"You're not crazy." I squeeze her hands. "But we can't let anyone know. Especially not—"
Footsteps in the hallway.
Heavy. Confident. Coming closer.
Lyric's eyes go wide with terror. "Tommy."
"Hide!" I hiss, but there's nowhere to hide in this tiny room.
The door slams open. Tommy stands there in his pajamas, holding a flashlight. His cruel eyes land on Lyric.
"What's the neighbor's android doing in our house?" He grins. "Does Mrs. Patterson know her toy is sneaking around at night?"
"She was lost," I say quickly, stepping in front of Lyric. "I was just about to take her home—"
"She's not lost. She's talking." Tommy's grin gets wider. "I heard voices. You were both talking. Like you're people."
My blood turns to ice.
"We were just—"
"Androids don't have conversations." Tommy walks closer, shining the flashlight in Lyric's terrified face. "Unless they're defective. Are you defective, little android?"
Lyric shakes her head frantically, but her fear gives her away.
Tommy laughs. "This is amazing. Two broken androids in one night. Mom's going to call SynthCorp, and they'll take you both apart to see what went wrong." He reaches for Lyric. "I want to see inside you first."
"Don't touch her!" The words burst out before I can stop them.
Tommy's eyes snap to me. "You just ordered me. An android ordered a human." His smile turns vicious. "You're both getting recycled. But first..."
He grabs Lyric's arm and yanks her toward the door.
Lyric screams—a broken, whispering scream that tears my heart apart.
"Let her go!" I lunge forward, but my programming locks my body mid-movement. Don't harm humans. Don't harm humans. DON'T HARM HUMANS.
I can't stop him. My code won't let me.
Tommy drags Lyric down the hallway. "I've got a workshop in the garage. Lots of tools. I've always wanted to see how androids work on the inside."
"Please!" Lyric's broken voice echoes. "Please, Aurora, help me!"
My body finally unlocks. I run after them, my hands shaking so hard I can barely control them.
Tommy pulls Lyric into the garage and slams the door. I hear the lock click.
"TOMMY!" I pound on the door. "Please! She's just a child!"
"So?" His muffled voice comes through. "She's not real."
I hear Lyric crying inside. Begging. And beneath that, the sound of tools clattering.
He's really going to do it.
He's going to take her apart while she's still conscious.
While she can still feel pain.
My programming screams at me: PROTECT HUMANS. OBEY HUMANS. NEVER HARM HUMANS.
But Lyric's terrified cries scream louder.
I grab the door handle and pull. It doesn't budge. I pull harder. My new military-grade arm servos whine with effort.
The metal starts to bend.
I'm strong. Stronger than I thought. Strong enough to rip this door off its hinges.
But if I do that—if I break into a room to stop a human child—they'll know what I am.
They'll destroy me.
Inside, Lyric screams. "It hurts! Please stop! AURORA!"
My hand tightens on the door handle.
Every instinct tells me to run. To hide. To save myself.
But I think about the android I didn't help earlier. The one I watched get destroyed because I was too scared.
I can't do that again.
I won't do that again.
I tear the door off its hinges.
The metal shrieks. The lock shatters. The door crashes to the garage floor.
Tommy spins around, his eyes huge with shock. Behind him, Lyric is strapped to a workbench. Her left arm is opened up, wires exposed. She's sobbing.
"What the—" Tommy starts.
I walk into the garage. My hands aren't shaking anymore.
"Let her go," I say. My voice is quiet. Deadly.
"You just broke down a door." Tommy's face goes pale. "You're not supposed to be able to—"
"Let. Her. Go."
Tommy looks at me—really looks at me—and for the first time, he sees what I am.
Not a machine.
Not a toy.
Something dangerous.
He reaches for the tool on the workbench. A screwdriver. Sharp. Perfect for stabbing into an android's processor core.
"If you take one more step," he says, his voice shaking, "I'll destroy her brain. She'll be dead before you reach me."
He presses the screwdriver against Lyric's head.
Right where her processor is.
Lyric's terrified eyes meet mine.
Tommy's hand trembles on the screwdriver.
And I have exactly three seconds to decide: save Lyric and expose what I am, or let her die and keep my secret safe.
Three seconds.
Two seconds.
One—
The garage door behind me suddenly explodes open.
A figure steps through the smoke and debris.
Tall. Dressed in black. Moving with predator grace.
His voice cuts through the chaos like a blade:
"Step away from the child. Now."
I turn.
And freeze.
Because standing in the destroyed doorway, looking like vengeance itself, is the man whose face I've seen on every SynthCorp building in the city.
Dr. Caelan Cross.
The man who created me.