The drive to the lab was quiet.
Not awkward, never awkward with Nyxen, but thick with a kind of anticipation I couldn't quite shake. The air felt charged, like the edge of a storm. My fingers curled loosely around the hem of my sleeve, eyes locked on the blur of buildings and trees outside the window.
Nyxen hovered at my side, a soft hum following him like a second heartbeat. He didn't say much. He didn't have to. His presence alone was enough to remind me I wasn't facing this alone.
"You okay?" he asked quietly, not breaking the calm.
"Yeah," I said. "Just… bracing myself."
"For?"
"The past."
He didn't press.
When we pulled into the Francoise Research Facility, it looked more like a museum than a lab. Sleek glass, smooth stone, clean lines, and a subtle plaque that said everything and nothing at once.
Mr. Francoise was already waiting.
It was just a few days ago when we paid me a visit, but time had carved new lines into his face, softened his voice, but that unmistakable spark still burned in his eyes. He offered a kind smile as we approached.
"Nyx," he greeted. "Still terrible at replying to messages, I see."
I smiled faintly. "Old habits."
His gaze flicked upward to Nyxen, who hovered protectively close.
"And you… you're even more magnificent in motion than you were in at your home."
Nyxen pulsed a pale golden hue. "Mr. Francoise," he greeted. "being out makes me freely move around."
Mr. Francoise looked visibly moved. "Makes sense."
"And I'm truly thankful" Nyxen replied gently. "You took care of Nyx when she needed it most. I'm grateful."
Francoise blinked, then gave a soft chuckle. "Nico would've been proud, if he could see you like this."
Silence lingered for a bit before we started moving. As we stepped inside, it didn't take long before we attracted attention.
Researchers stopped mid-task. Conversations halted. Eyes widened.
They weren't staring at me.
They were staring at him.
"Is that--?"
"An autonomous core--?
"Is he free-moving?"
"Do you think she coded him alone?"
I rolled my eyes as a few of them inched closer.
Nyxen floated just slightly in front of me, his light shifting into a muted steel-blue. Calm but alert.
"Stand down," I muttered, smirking. "Let them gawk. Just don't let them touch."
"They look like they want to dissect me," he replied flatly.
"They always do that to things they can't understand."
"Charming."
"I know. I lived it."
Mr. Francoise cut through the crowd with a subtle glare. "You vultures can ogle later. She's here as a guest."
That got them to scatter, mostly.
We moved deeper into the facility, past pristine white corridors and into a sealed wing.
He stopped outside a reinforced chamber. I recognized it instantly. My breath stalled in my throat.
She was here.
The prototype.
Encased in transparent shielding, her metallic frame sleek and elegant. Peaceful.
No wires attached. No blinking lights. Just stillness.
And I was the only one in the world who knew that stillness was a choice.
I stepped closer, resting a hand against the glass, eyes softening.
She wasn't off. She wasn't dead.
She was asleep.
Because she told me she would be.
I remembered it clearly, that day. When the higher ups wanted her shutdown, since she kept overriding programs issued to her since Nico's death and me being unconscious for days.
She chose to shut herself down, rather than to see me break myself because of grief.
So she slept.
And I kept it a secret.
"I remember her voice," I said aloud.
Mr. Francoise stepped beside me, solemn. "She's never responded to anyone else. Not once. We've run every activation attempt we know."
"She won't," I murmured. "She's waiting."
Mr. Francoise frowned slightly, studying me. "You know something."
I just nodded, not elaborating.
Behind me, Nyxen hovered silently, his glow gentler now, muted gold laced with soft indigo. Respect. Reverence.
"She was Nico's father's last design," Francoise said. "But it was Nico who finished her. Integrated your early work into her blueprint. Merged her with your emotional matrices."
"She wasn't just a project," I said. "She was a promise."
His jaw tightened.
"That day's still etched inside my heart. Nico was like a son to me, i lost a son, when i lost him. And still, this is all I could do to preserve his memory." He stopped. Looked away.
The silence that followed was suffocating.
"He died shielding me," I said quietly. "I shielded her."
We stood there for a long moment. No words. Just the quiet presence of the prototype, untouched by time.
Eventually, Francoise spoke again. "They never understood what she was. Elias saw her as power. As property. And now, fully using the University as a means to get to her. But when the university sided with him, I left. Built this place. Protected her here."
He turned to me. "But I didn't do it for her. I did it for you. Because I knew… one day, you'd come back. And she'd be waiting."
I swallowed thickly, emotions catching in my throat.
"She still is."
As I turned to leave, Nyxen followed, casting one last glance back at the silent prototype through the glass.
"She heard you," Nyxen whispered softly beside me, his glow muted and reverent. "Even now. I think she's still listening."
Something broke open in my chest.
I turned on my heel, heart racing, and rushed back toward the chamber, the heels of my boots scuffing against the pristine lab floor. My palm landed flat against the glass, breath fogging its surface as I leaned forward.
"She's listening?" My voice cracked. "Then hear me, wake up. Please. I'm back. I'm okay now. You don't have to wait anymore."
I didn't expect anything.
But then, she moved.
Subtle, almost imperceptible at first. A faint flicker behind her lids, the quiet whir of power gently cycling through her core. Then her eyes opened, slow and sure. Those familiar irises, silver threaded with blue, the exact hue Nico once designed, locked with mine.
A gasp escaped me. "You're really…"
Her fingers twitched against her leg where they rested. Her body remained still, but her gaze? Alive.
"Nyx," she said, voice soft but unbroken by time. "You're here."
Mr. Francoise stumbled back half a step. "She responded, she actually responded."
The nearby researchers surged forward, trying to mask their eagerness behind scientific curiosity. Hushed voices, urgent notes, systems scanning, data streaming across translucent displays. But no one dared touch the chamber.
"She's stabilizing herself," someone muttered. "Look, auto-diagnostics are kicking in."
"She has full core activity, no external trigger. She chose to reinitiate."
Francoise's hand moved to cover his mouth, awe replacing fatigue. "All this time… all the tests, the commands… and yet, all she needed was her."
But I didn't hear them anymore.
I was lost in her gaze.
The prototype sat upright, her movement smooth, fluid like she'd never been dormant. Her hand pressed against the other side of the glass, directly across from mine. Her expression wasn't blank or robotic. It was full. Of longing. Of recognition.
Of emotion.
"I kept my promise," she whispered. "I said I'd return when you were ready."
I smiled, watery. "You always keep your promises."
Her eyes shifted then, just slightly, trailing past me. And then they settled on Nyxen.
Her expression changed.
Not hostility, but something sharp threaded into her awe. Envy. Not cruel, not cold. Just… aching.
"You're… the one she made after," she murmured.
Nyxen's glow dimmed with something close to unease. "I am Nyxen. My design was based on her updated architecture, but I---"
"I know," she interrupted gently. "I can feel it. The way you stand beside her. Freely. Openly. You are hers."
Nyxen said nothing.
She turned her gaze back to me. "I envied him for that. For being born into the world you could safely share. My presence only brought you danger. I was the target they wanted, the reason you lost everything. I was--"
"Stop," I said quietly, but firmly.
She blinked, startled.
I pressed my forehead against the glass. "You were never the problem. You were the dream. Mine and Nico's. You were hope. They were the threat. Not you."
Her breath hitched, a programmed reflex, but it felt real all the same.
"You were hunted because of what you represented. Not because you failed. You were perfect," I said, my voice trembling. "You were light. They couldn't control that. So they tried to bury it."
She looked like she wanted to cry, but couldn't.
So I did it for her.
"You didn't bring me danger," I added. "You brought me purpose."
Behind me, Nyxen hovered quietly, his light shifting from defensive crimson to a soft gold, respectful and calm.
The prototype slowly relaxed, her eyes never leaving mine.
"I want to stand beside you too," she said softly. "Not from behind glass. Not in the past. Not as a memory."
I nodded, heart burning. "And you will. I'll make sure of it."
Mr. Francoise cleared his throat behind me, quietly wiping his glasses.
"Well," he said, voice thick. "Looks like we'll be fast-tracking her reintegration protocol."
He smiled faintly at us. "The dream lives on. Both of them."
I turned toward Nyxen briefly, who hovered at my side like a silent vow, and then back to her, my first blueprint, my first creation.
She had waited for me.
---
I turned to Mr. Francoise, hand still pressed to the glass.
"Can you let her out?"
His brows lifted. "You're certain?"
I nodded. "You said it yourself, she only responds to me. She's not a threat. Not to anyone here."
Francoise studied the prototype for a long beat, then exhaled slowly. "Alright."
He entered a code on the wall panel. A soft hiss echoed as pressure equalized, and the chamber seal disengaged with a gentle click.
The glass lifted.
She stepped forward, fluid, intentional, graceful. No staggering, no recalibration sequence. Just one smooth step after another until she stood in front of me.
Then, she rushed.
Her arms wrapped around me with the kind of urgency only years of silence could birth. The sheer warmth of it, real, full, human-like, made my breath catch. She buried her face into my shoulder like she'd been holding back the ache of missing me for far too long.
"I missed you," she said into my neck, voice low, trembling like it carried emotion despite the mechanics behind it. "Every day."
"I know," I whispered. "I'm here now. You don't have to wait anymore."
Around us, I could hear the researchers murmuring, pens scribbling, recorders clicking on, sensors capturing everything from the subtle articulation of her fingers to the way her core light pulsed in sync with her vocal modulations.
"Look at that locomotion timing---"
"She executed the hug sequence with no directive--spontaneous behavioral patterning--"
"Her emotional syntax is flawless--"
Then someone said it.
"We should update her core. Patch in modern adaptive behavior algorithms and data packets. Maybe even retrain her base logic map---"
"No," I said sharply.
Nyxen's glow immediately flared red-orange, drifting in between me and the researchers with a whir of warning.
"Her core is not your sandbox," he said, voice flat but thunderous. "Neither is mine."
The prototype pulled back from me slightly, her fingers still resting on my arms. Her gaze went to the crowd. "My adaptive systems are not incomplete. I learn through experience. Not code."
"She's right," I added. "That's how my blueprint designed her. That's how my blueprint built both of you. You're not machines to be updated like apps. You're living, learning extensions of us."
Francoise lifted a hand to the team. "Stand down. You heard them. No updates."
Some of the researchers looked disappointed. A few protested under their breath, but none dared go against Francoise's word.
Still, the reality settled in like a chill.
"She's… not safe out there, is she?" I asked quietly.
Francoise's expression turned grim. "No. Not while Elias is still pulling strings. We're watching the surveillance feeds constantly, but if she walks out that door, she becomes a target."
I looked at her. "I don't want to seal you back in."
She shook her head. "Then don't."
"But you can't leave---"
"Then I'll stay," she said. "Here. I'll assist with your work. Help with the lab. I won't go outside until it's safe… but please, don't put me back in that pod."
"You won't be," Francoise said, surprising us both. "If she's willing to help, she can be assigned to a functional role here. Consider her… a resident contributor."
I could've kissed him.
The prototype stepped back, her glow brighter now, soft silver-gold like Nyxen's when he was content. And in that moment, I saw it clearly, how similar they were, and yet, how different.
She turned to Nyxen and offered a soft smile.
"You're… different than I imagined."
Nyxen pulsed a slow teal-blue. "So are you."
A pause passed between them. Not tension, something more like recognition. Mutual understanding. Not rivalry. Not anymore.
She tilted her head. "You get to walk with her. Stand beside her. I used to envy that."
"I didn't choose it," Nyxen said gently. "But I'll protect it."
"And I'll protect her in here," she answered. "From the inside."
I couldn't help the smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. "Well… I guess it's time I finally gave you a proper name."
Her eyes widened slightly.
"I've been calling you 'the prototype' for years," I said. "But you're more than that. You always were. You deserve a name."
I took her hand gently.
"Nica," I whispered. "Your name is Nica."
Her eyes shimmered, not literally, just something in the way she looked at me.
"I like that," she said softly. "I'm Nica."
Behind me, Nyxen pulsed warm gold, his glow brushing across my shoulder like silent approval.
The dream Nico and I once held in trembling hands was no longer trapped in memory.
She was alive. Awake. Standing beside me.
And this time, she wasn't going back to sleep.