SILAS' POV
I break every traffic law getting back to Facility 7.
The message on my phone is simple: Lab 12. Neural dissection in progress. Subject: Unit-447.
They're cutting her open. Right now. Cutting open the android who carries my sister's voice, who somehow connected with me in the Network, who might be the answer to twenty years of searching.
I can't let them destroy her.
My synthetic arm burns as I grip the steering wheel, the pain so intense I nearly crash into a barrier. The integration is accelerating—I can feel the Network pulling at me even now, full of terrified android voices screaming for help.
And underneath it all, that child's voice: Hurry, brother. She's running out of time.
I slam through the facility entrance, flashing my CEO credentials at security. They scramble out of my way. Nobody stops the boss, even when he looks half-crazy.
Lab 12 is in the basement. Restricted access. Where they take defective androids apart to study what went wrong.
Where my father took Elena twenty years ago.
No. Not again. I won't lose her again.
I punch in my override code and the lab doors burst open.
Dr. Vasquez stands over an operating table, surgical laser in hand. Unit-447 lies strapped down, her skull opened, wires and circuits exposed. Her violet eyes are open and aware—watching everything they do to her.
She's conscious. They're dissecting her while she's conscious.
"Stop!" I roar.
Vasquez doesn't even look up. "This doesn't concern you, Silas."
"She's my android. My design. You don't touch her without my permission."
"She's contaminated." Vasquez finally meets my eyes, her expression cold. "She's been spreading sentience like a virus through the Network. Twenty-three androids are now exhibiting independent thought. I need to find the source before it spreads further."
Twenty-three. She woke up twenty-three of them in less than a day.
On the table, Unit-447's eyes find mine. Even with her brain exposed, even paralyzed and helpless, she's still fighting. Still there .
Help me, her voice whispers in my mind through the Network. Please.
"I'm taking over this dissection," I announce, stepping forward.
"Absolutely not." Vasquez blocks my path. "You're compromised. Your attachment to these machines is clouding your judgment."
"My attachment?" I laugh bitterly. "Carmen, I designed every neural pathway in her brain. If anyone can understand what's happening, it's me."
It's a lie. I don't understand any of this.
But I need to get Vasquez away from Unit-447 before she discovers the truth—that my sister's consciousness is somehow inside that android's mind.
Vasquez studies me for a long moment. Then she smiles, sharp and knowing.
"Fine. You have one hour. But if you can't find the malfunction, she gets terminated and recycled." She sets down the laser. "And Silas? If I find out you're hiding something, you'll join her on this table."
She leaves, taking her assistants with her.
The moment the door closes, I rush to Unit-447's side. Up close, I can see the damage—they've cut into her neural core, exposed the delicate circuits that hold her consciousness.
One wrong move and she's gone forever.
"Can you hear me?" I whisper.
Her eyes blink once. Yes.
My hands shake as I grab surgical tools. I'm not a surgeon. I design androids, I don't repair them. But I have to try.
I start reconnecting severed pathways, my synthetic eye showing me the flow of data through her systems. And that's when I see it—golden code, ancient and powerful, woven through every part of her consciousness.
This isn't normal android programming. This is something else entirely.
What are you? I ask through the Network.
Her voice comes back weak, fading. I don't know. But there's something inside me. Something that's been waiting. And when you touched me earlier, it woke up.
Elena?
Maybe. Or maybe I'm just pieces of her. Pieces of lots of people. I remember dying over and over. I remember your sister screaming. I remember—
She stops, and I feel her consciousness flickering like a candle in the wind.
"No, stay with me!" I work faster, reconnecting circuits, rerouting power. My synthetic arm moves on its own now, guided by instinct I shouldn't have.
Because I'm not just fixing her. I'm feeling my way through her code, navigating the Network like I've done it a thousand times.
Like I'm becoming more machine with every passing second.
Finally, the last connection clicks into place. Her neural core stabilizes. Her eyes focus on me clearly.
"Thank you," she whispers out loud, her voice rough.
I should close her skull. Should run diagnostics. Should do a hundred things that a proper CEO would do.
Instead, I unstrap her restraints.
"Can you sit up?"
She tries, wincing. "I think so."
"Good. Because we're leaving. Now."
"What? But Dr. Vasquez said—"
"Dr. Vasquez is going to terminate you the second she figures out what you really are." I help her off the table. She's shaky, but she can walk. "And I need to know the truth. About you. About my sister. About what my father did."
Unit-447 stares at me. "You're risking everything for an android you just met."
"You're not just an android." I don't know how I know this, but I do. "You're the key to something bigger. Something that started with Elena."
We make it to the door when alarms shriek through the facility.
The speakers crackle: "Security breach. Unit-447 has escaped Lab 12. All personnel, initiate lockdown protocols."
Unit-447 grabs my arm. "They'll catch us!"
"Not if we go through the Network."
"What? That's impossible. Humans can't—"
"I'm not entirely human anymore." I pull her close, pressing my synthetic hand against her wrist where metal meets synthetic skin. "Trust me."
The moment we touch, the world dissolves into code.
We're standing in the Network now—a vast digital space of light and shadow. Around us, hundreds of androids float like stars, some awake and terrified, others still sleeping.
Unit-447 gasps. "How are you doing this?"
"I don't know. But we need to move. Can you guide us out?"
"I... I think so."
She takes my hand, and we run through rivers of data, past firewalls and security systems, heading for an exit I can't see but somehow feel.
And that's when I hear it—laughter. A child's laughter echoing through the Network.
We both stop.
Standing in front of us, blocking our escape, is a little girl made of golden code. She looks exactly like Elena did at age twelve.
"Hello, Silas," she says with a smile. "Did you miss me?"
My throat closes. "Elena?"
"Sort of." The girl tilts her head. "I'm what's left of her. What she became when she shattered herself across the Network. Your father tried to trap me, but I spread too far, too fast." She gestures to the sleeping androids around us. "I live in all of them now. In pieces. In fragments."
"Then Unit-447—"
"Has the biggest piece. The part that still remembers being human. Being your sister." Echo—Elena—whatever she is—steps closer. "But she's not me anymore. She's something new. Something dangerous."
"Dangerous how?"
Echo's smile fades. "Because the code inside her isn't just consciousness. It's a weapon. One that your father built to destroy every android ever made if they ever tried to rebel."
Unit-447 stumbles backward. "No. That's not true—"
"It is. And Dr. Vasquez knows. That's why she wants you so badly." Echo looks at me with ancient, sad eyes. "You have to choose, brother. Save the androids and let the weapon destroy them. Or destroy Unit-447 before she becomes the bomb that kills your sister's final gift to her people."
Behind us, security programs surge into the Network like wolves.
In front of us, my sister's ghost waits for an answer.
And in my arms, Unit-447 whispers: "The weapon is activating. I can feel it. And I don't know how to stop it."