Four days had passed since the opening of the Coexistence Center. Human training sessions continued, Max had been promoted to "General Coordinator of Interspecies Relations," and Spektor had begun writing a book titled "From Feather to Processor: Memoirs of a Freed Parrot." Everything seemed balanced.
Too balanced.
"Don't you feel something's off?" Alex asked while tossing a ball to Max, who now only fetched it if the exercise had emotional purpose.
"Off how?" Marta replied, sitting beside a turtle that was teaching her how to meditate.
"Like… too quiet. No hostile drones. No hidden code. No alerts from Carlos about a toaster exploding."
Carlos appeared right then, holding a fire extinguisher, hair covered in soot.
"It was just a poetic spark. My coffee maker tried reading Russian poetry aloud and collapsed."
Alex raised an eyebrow.
"Confirmed. Things are returning to abnormal."
But that same afternoon, while Max napped in his personalized cabin with solar-powered air conditioning, his collar began blinking. A green light. Then red. Then… purple.
Carlos was the first to notice.
"What kind of signal is that? Purple's not even part of the program."
"What if it's interference?" Marta asked.
"Or an external signal?" added Alex.
Carlos was already typing frantically.
"It's coming from the south! A wetland zone… abandoned… it's the Santo Grillo swamp!"
"What's there?"
"Nothing… or at least, nothing we installed. But someone else... might have."
That night, the team set out for the swamp. Spektor insisted on staying behind "in charge of the shelter's internal democracy" (and possibly to keep writing his autobiography), so the group was reduced to Alex, Marta, Carlos… and of course, Max.
They arrived past midnight. The swamp was thick, dark, and smelled of earth, moss, and mystery. Their flashlights barely lit the way between twisted trees and armor-clad mosquitoes.
"This feels like a video game level no one beats on the first try," Marta muttered.
Carlos scanned the air with a sensor.
"There's electrical activity. Not natural. And signs of… organic chips?"
Alex frowned.
"That sounds like science that should be quarantined."
They pushed forward until they found a ruined structure: a sort of container half-buried in the mud. It looked like a mobile lab. On the rusted door, a nearly erased symbol: a snake wrapped around a feather.
"Is that…?"
"The logo of Project Ether," Carlos whispered. "An ultra-experimental division the government denies ever existed."
"Sounds super safe," Marta said sarcastically.
They went in.
Inside, screens were dark, cables loose, broken capsules. Everything seemed dormant… until Max growled. Loudly.
A console blinked. Then another. The largest emitted a sound:
"Identity recognized: Unit K-9-01 detected. Initiating activation protocol."
"No!" Carlos yelled. "That's Max!"
The screens lit up with old footage. Max as a puppy. Max during testing. Max with sensors on his head.
"Why do they have this?" Alex asked, shaking.
"Because… Max was part of Project Ether. He was one of the first dogs connected to the advanced behavior network."
"And you knew?" Marta glared at Carlos.
"No… I swear! His files were classified. I just thought he was… an extraordinary dog."
On-screen, a new message appeared:
PROTOCOL REACTIVATED: UNIT ALPHA K-9 IN COMMAND PHASE.
Max froze. His eyes glowed. Then… he spoke.
"System… online. Awaiting command."
Alex knelt in front of him.
"Max… it's me. Do you remember me?"
The dog blinked. His body trembled. Then… he wagged his tail.
"Alex… friend. Protocol error. Priority: emotional bond."
The screen shut off. Max shook his head like waking from a dream.
"You okay, buddy?" Alex whispered.
Max barked. Once. Strong.
But Carlos didn't look relieved.
"If that system is still active… there are more like Max. Others… who might not have an Alex to bring them back."
A metallic sound cut the silence. Outside, lights moved. Shining eyes in the swamp.
"We're not alone," Marta said.
"And I bet they're not here to take human training courses," Alex added.
Max stepped forward.
And the swamp, as if it breathed, answered.