Susan's hands trembled on the steering wheel as the city blurred past in streaks of neon. Her breath came in sharp, uneven gasps, the echo of Jack's scream—Go!—still ringing in her ears. She gripped the wheel tighter, knuckles pale, and glanced at the rearview mirror.
No one followed.
Not that thing.
Her stomach flipped as the memory replayed: a towering, faceless… thing, metal skin rippling like liquid, tendrils snaking toward her. It hadn't been a nightmare. She'd smelled burning ozone. She'd heard the claws screech against concrete.
Her eyes stung. "Jack…"
She swerved into an empty gas station lot and slammed the car into park. Her whole body shook as she fumbled with her phone. 911. She stopped mid-dial. What would she even say? Hi, my ex-boyfriend is being chased by a monster robot from a sci-fi movie? Please send help.
She dropped the phone, burying her face in her hands. "I shouldn't have left him…"
But his voice came back, rough and desperate: Get in the car and drive! He'd meant it. He'd been protecting her, like always.
Susan wiped her eyes and forced herself to breathe. "Think, Susan. Think."
She opened the glove box and pulled out the small flashlight she always kept there, flicking it on and off just to keep her hands busy. Her mind churned. Jack had changed over the last few months. Always secretive, always tired, eyes darting like he was waiting for something. And tonight… this.
She whispered into the dark car, "What the hell are you into, Jack?"
A knock on the window made her jump so hard she nearly screamed. She swung the flashlight around, but the glass was empty. Heart hammering, she rolled it down slightly.
Nothing. Just the sound of distant sirens.
She gripped the wheel. "Okay. No. I'm not leaving him."
She threw the car into gear and sped back into the night.
---
Jack limped through the back alleys, clutching his shoulder. Blood soaked the thin hospital gown where the retrieval unit's tendril had grazed him. Every step jarred his ribs. His breath came in ragged pulls.
Eve flickered at his side, her projection faint, static dancing around her outline. "You're losing blood," she said matter-of-factly.
"No kidding," Jack muttered. "You're not exactly glowing yourself."
Her eyes narrowed. "My projection unit is damaged. The fight drained your core too. If you collapse now, I can't protect you."
Jack slumped against a wall, sliding down to sit on the cold pavement. "Then maybe tell me what the hell's going on before I bleed out."
Eve hesitated. Her holographic fingers flexed like she was weighing a choice. "You weren't supposed to know this yet. But the retrieval unit changes everything."
Jack laughed weakly. "Gee, thanks. Feeling real reassured."
She crouched in front of him, eyes serious now. "I wasn't born on Earth. I was designed by a civilization so old your species wouldn't even call it history—an empire that existed when your sun was still young. My creators left me here, embedded in a dormant state, waiting for a host with the right resonance."
Jack stared at her. "Resonance."
"It's… compatibility," she said. "A genetic frequency, a mental pattern, something that lets me merge. I woke up when you touched the artifact two weeks ago. That's when you became the host."
Jack pressed his palm to his forehead. "So I'm some kind of chosen one?"
Her mouth quirked. "Hardly. You're a survivor, not a hero. But you have potential."
He barked a laugh, bitter. "Yeah, potential to get myself killed."
Eve's gaze softened, just for a heartbeat. "I'm not going to let that happen."
"Could've fooled me," Jack said, nodding toward the hospital in the distance. "That thing almost skewered me."
"That thing," Eve said sharply, "was a prototype retrieval unit. It shouldn't even exist. Which means someone—or something—on this planet knows about me. Knows about you."
Jack's stomach turned. "That text I got…"
Eve's projection flickered brighter. "Show me."
He fumbled his phone out of his pocket, thumbed it open. The screen still glowed with the message: You are not the only host.
Eve's eyes darkened. "I thought as much."
Jack looked up at her. "What does it mean?"
"It means," she said, voice low, "you're not alone. And not everyone who's bonded with my kind is… friendly."
The wind picked up, swirling trash down the alley. Jack shivered, not just from the cold. "So there are more of… you? More systems?"
Eve nodded slowly. "Some like me. Some not. Some were corrupted before they even woke. If the retrieval unit was sent, it's because one of them wants you dead—or wants me back."
Jack exhaled hard. "Fantastic. Any other fun surprises?"
"Yes," she said. "You're bleeding out. Get up."
He grimaced but forced himself to his feet. "Where?"
"There's an old safehouse three blocks from here. Abandoned substation. We can regroup there."
Jack staggered forward, leaning on the wall for balance. "Lead the way, boss."
"I'm not your boss," Eve said, rolling her holographic eyes. "I'm your system."
"Tsundere much?" Jack muttered.
"I'm not—" She stopped, cheeks faintly tinted pink despite being a projection. "Just keep walking."
---
Susan's car rounded the corner just as Jack and Eve disappeared into the shadows. She slammed on the brakes, scanning the alley. Empty.
She gripped the wheel, heart pounding. "Where are you, Jack…"
A flicker of movement in the construction site caught her eye. She squinted. The pile of steel beams shifted. Something rose slowly from beneath—black tendrils curling in the moonlight.
Her breath hitched. "Oh God."
She ducked low in her seat as the retrieval unit straightened, sparks cascading off its damaged armor. Its head tilted as if sniffing the air. Then it turned—not toward her, but toward the alley Jack had vanished into.
Susan's hands clenched. "He's still alive. He's running."
She looked at the monster again, then at the alley. Her whole body screamed at her to drive away. But she remembered Jack's eyes—furious, scared, determined.
"I'm not leaving you," she whispered.
She slid her car into gear, headlights off, and began to creep after the monster at a distance.
---
Jack collapsed against the heavy metal door of the substation, panting. Eve flickered ahead, scanning. "Clear," she said. "For now."
He pushed the door open. The interior was dark, filled with the scent of dust and rust. Old electrical panels lined the walls like forgotten sentinels. He stumbled inside and slid down the nearest wall, clutching his wound.
Eve hovered over him. "Sit still. I'll stabilize you."
"You can do that?" he asked, voice weak.
Her projection leaned closer, fingers brushing his chest. A soft blue glow spread from her hand, seeping into his skin. The pain dulled slightly.
Jack blinked. "That's… better."
"Temporary," she said. "You still need real medical attention. But this will keep you alive."
He let his head rest against the wall. "Thanks."
She looked at him for a long moment, something unreadable in her eyes. "Don't thank me yet. We're in the middle of a war you don't even understand."
Jack chuckled weakly. "And here I thought my life was already messed up."
Her lips curved in the faintest smirk. "Welcome to the deep end."
He laughed once, then coughed. "You know… for a system, you're awfully dramatic."
"Shut up and rest," she said, but her voice was softer now.
---
Outside, Susan parked her car in the shadows, watching the substation. The monster was gone—vanished into the dark. Her hands trembled, but her jaw was set.
She whispered to herself, "I don't care what's going on. I'm not losing him again."
She reached for the door handle.
---
High above the city, in a skyscraper whose windows reflected the stars, a figure watched the same scene on a wall of monitors. Its face was obscured, but its eyes glowed faintly.
It spoke into the silence, voice smooth and cold.
> "Host 117 has bonded. Retrieval unit failed. Initiate Phase Two."
Somewhere below, a dozen more retrieval units opened their eyes.