A voice, somewhat childish, cold, and faintly tactical, echoed in Cain's ears. He stared at the massive monitor before him, watching the floating emoji widen its eyes in apparent confusion.
The silver-haired boy stood there with his mouth agape, yet every word he wanted to say got stuck in his throat.
Ignoring Cain entirely, the emoji blinked. The hollow pupils of its eyes glowed white before its body began to glitch.
The familiar sound of a computer filtering data echoed throughout the space, snapping Cain out of his daze. The screen before him flickered violently, displaying an overwhelming flood of data and countless human faces.
After a while, the emoji, previously buried beneath layers of stacked information, reappeared in the corner of the screen. Its eyes were narrowed, as though deep in thought.
{Data inconsistency detected. Human, your face does not exist in the records stored within my memory.}
