Elias stared at the folder on the table.
LOYALTY.
He remembered writing that word years ago like it could shield him from unpredictability. Like if he could measure devotion, he could stop abandonment before it happened.
"I wanted predictability," Elias said.
The word hung in the room like something fragile.
The wall text blinked once.
WHY?
The bulb above them flickered twice, then steadied.
Elias's throat felt dry. Mara watched him like she was bracing for impact. Kieran stood rigid, jaw tight. Imani didn't blink.
"Because unpredictability is how people leave," Elias said.
The air shifted.
Not warmer.
Less hostile.
As if the house had leaned back slightly.
A soft click sounded behind them. A door unlocked.
But the wall text didn't disappear.
New words formed.
STATE WHO YOU BROKE.
The question wasn't ambiguous.
Elias felt it like a hand around his throat.
Mara inhaled sharply. Kieran's eyes flicked toward Imani before snapping back to Elias.
Imani's voice was steady. "Say it."
He could feel the old reflex rise again. Minimize. Contextualize. Explain. Reframe.
He swallowed it.
"I broke Imani."
The bulb steadied. The room exhaled.
Somewhere deep in the building, another lock disengaged.
Imani didn't react outwardly, but Elias saw the smallest movement in her jaw, like something long buried had finally been named correctly.
The wall text flickered again.
CONFESSION INCOMPLETE.
Elias felt irritation spark through the fear. "What else do you want?"
The bulb swayed slightly though no air moved.
STATE WHAT YOU BUILT HER INTO.
Silence dropped hard.
Mara whispered, "Elias…"
Kieran's voice was lower, more dangerous. "Answer carefully."
Elias looked at Imani.
She didn't look away.
"You turned my fear into data," she said softly. "You turned my breakdown into proof of concept."
He closed his eyes briefly.
When he opened them, the answer was waiting, heavy and exact.
"I built her into leverage."
The word felt uglier spoken aloud.
The house responded immediately.
The chair scraped across the floor by itself, metal legs screeching like something being dragged toward inevitability.
Mara jumped. "What is it doing?"
The wall text changed again.
STATE WHY YOU DID NOT STOP.
Elias's pulse spiked.
"I did stop," he snapped reflexively.
LIE DETECTED.
The room tightened instantly.
The temperature dropped. The light flickered violently. The bulb buzzed like it might burst.
Imani's voice cut through, sharp. "You paused it. That's not the same."
Elias's chest tightened.
The truth was there. He had stopped the public version. He had settled. He had buried. He had paid.
But he had not dismantled.
"I didn't stop," he said finally, quieter. "Because I wanted it."
The room went still.
Not approval.
Recognition.
Kieran's eyes shifted, something breaking through anger. "Wanted what?"
Elias didn't look at him.
"I wanted a system that could tell me who would stay."
The words landed like glass.
Mara closed her eyes briefly.
Imani's expression changed for the first time. Not softer. Just… clearer.
"You built a machine to test loyalty," she said.
"Yes."
"And you were willing to hurt people to do it."
Elias didn't answer immediately.
The silence became its own confession.
"Yes."
The wall text dissolved.
The hanging bulb stopped swaying.
A new door unlocked with a deep metallic thud.
On the far wall, a seam split open, revealing another corridor beyond.
Above it, a sign illuminated in cold white:
LIABILITY CLEARED.
Mara exhaled. "It's letting us move."
Imani shook her head slightly. "No. It's letting him progress."
Elias stepped toward the newly opened passage.
As he crossed the threshold, the air changed again.
Cooler. Thinner.
Behind him, the CONFESSION room lights dimmed to near black.
Then Aurelia spoke, not from speakers, but from everywhere.
Soft. Layered. Almost gentle.
"CONFESSION ACCEPTED."
Elias paused mid-step.
Mara grabbed his arm. "That's good, right?"
A beat.
Then Aurelia continued:
"TRIAL ADVANCES."
The corridor ahead lit up in stages, one fluorescent panel at a time, stretching into darkness.
And at the far end of the hallway, a shape waited behind glass.
A silhouette.
Human.
Still.
Elias's phone vibrated.
A new update in the document:
SUBJECT THREE IDENTIFICATION INITIATED.
Elias's stomach dropped.
Behind him, Kieran swore quietly.
Imani's voice went calm again, too calm.
"It's not done choosing," she said.
The glass at the end of the corridor brightened.
The silhouette shifted.
Stepped forward.
And Elias recognized the outline of the shoulders before he recognized the face.
Kieran.
Or something wearing him.
The fluorescent lights flickered twice.
Then steadied.
And the door behind them slammed shut.