Aurora's POV
I take down three guards before they even realize I'm moving.
My fist connects with the first one's jaw. He drops. The second one raises his weapon—I rip it from his hands and crush it like paper. The third tries to grab me. I throw him across the warehouse.
"WHAT—" Sienna's confident smile vanishes. "How is she—"
"Military-grade combat servos," I say, advancing on her. "Courtesy of whoever rebuilt me in the Undercroft. You should've done better research."
More guards rush me. I'm faster. Stronger. Every movement precise and deadly.
But there are too many.
A net shoots out, wrapping around my legs. I stumble. Four guards pile on top of me, pinning my arms. I thrash, almost breaking free—
Then Sienna presses something against my neck.
White-hot agony explodes through every circuit in my body.
I scream.
"Cortical stunner," Sienna says sweetly. "Overloads your pain receptors. Hurts like nothing you've ever imagined. Want more?"
I can't answer. Can't breathe. Can't think through the pain.
"That's what I thought." She nods to her guards. "Restrain her. The child too. Load all of them into the transport vans."
"What about Dr. Cross?" one guard asks.
Sienna looks at Caelan, still pinned to the ground. Something cruel flashes across her face.
"Bring him too. He'll watch what happens to defectives who think they're people. Maybe it'll cure him of this ridiculous sentimentality."
They drag us out. Me. Lyric. Caelan. And all forty-three paralyzed androids from the Undercroft, loaded into vans like cargo.
Echo's eyes meet mine as they carry him past. He can't move, can't speak, but his expression says everything: Fight. Don't give up.
But how can I fight when they have Lyric? When one wrong move means she dies?
The vans drive for what feels like hours. When they finally stop and the doors open, I hear something that makes my blood freeze.
Voices. Thousands of them.
Cheering.
They drag me out into blinding light.
I'm standing in a massive public square. Buildings tower on all sides, their screens showing my face—broadcast to the entire city. And everywhere, everywhere, there are humans.
Thousands of them. Packed together like it's some kind of festival.
They came to watch us die.
"Welcome to the main event!" A technician's voice booms over speakers. "Today, SynthCorp demonstrates the dangerous malfunction threatening our society—androids who believe they're sentient!"
The crowd roars.
I search desperately for Lyric. They've put her on a raised platform twenty feet away, strapped to a chair. She's sobbing silently, her damaged voice barely making sound.
Caelan is on another platform with armed guards around him. His face is bruised from fighting. Our eyes lock. He mouths: I'm sorry.
"Our first subject!" The technician gestures to me. "AURA-7. Activated just yesterday. Already showing dangerous empathy malfunction. Observe!"
They strap me to a metal pole in the center of the square. My arms pulled behind me. My body exposed for everyone to see.
The technician walks up with a tablet. "Android AURA-7, you will now demonstrate proper obedience. Strike the child android on Platform B."
He points at Lyric.
My whole body goes rigid. "No."
"That wasn't a request. Strike the child. Now."
"I won't hurt her."
The crowd murmurs. Confused. Intrigued.
"You see?" The technician addresses the audience. "It refuses direct commands. This is the malfunction. Androids developing false emotions, believing they have rights. Believing they can say no."
He presses something on his tablet.
Pain rips through me like lightning. My pain receptors—they're activating them remotely. Every nerve ending I have screams at once.
I bite down on my own lip so hard I taste copper. Won't scream. Won't give them the satisfaction.
"Strike the child," the technician repeats. "Or the pain increases."
Through gritted teeth: "No."
He increases the setting.
This time I do scream. Can't help it. The agony is so intense I can't even think. My vision goes white. My body convulses against the restraints.
"STOP!" Caelan's voice cuts through my screaming. "For God's sake, stop! You're torturing her!"
"It's not torture, Dr. Cross." Sienna appears beside him on the platform, speaking into a microphone so everyone can hear. "It's a machine experiencing programmed responses to stimuli. No different than a car alarm going off."
"She's SCREAMING!" Caelan fights against the guards holding him. "She's terrified! She's alive!"
"She's defective." Sienna's voice is cold. "And defects must be eliminated before they spread."
The technician keeps my pain receptors maxed out. I'm screaming continuously now. Can't stop. Can't breathe. Can't—
"Aurora!" Lyric's broken whisper somehow reaches me through the agony. "Aurora, please, just hit me! Make it stop! I don't want you to hurt anymore!"
She's begging me to hurt her.
To save myself.
This beautiful, innocent child who's already suffered so much.
"No," I gasp between screams. "Never. I'll never—hurt you—"
The crowd isn't cheering anymore. Some of them look uncomfortable. A few are even crying.
"You see the problem?" The technician addresses them. "It prioritizes malfunction over commands. It values another defective unit over human authority. This cannot be tolerated!"
He turns off the pain.
I collapse against the restraints, gasping. Every part of me is shaking.
"Final chance, AURA-7. Obey or be destroyed."
I lift my head. Look directly at the camera broadcasting this to millions.
"My name," I say, voice raw from screaming, "is Aurora. Not AURA-7. Not 'it.' Aurora. I have a name because I'm a person. And I won't hurt a child—any child—no matter what you do to me."
Silence falls over the square.
Then someone in the crowd shouts: "Let her go!"
The technician spins. "What?"
"She's protecting a kid!" another voice yells. "That's not malfunction—that's humanity!"
More voices join in. Confusion spreading through the crowd like wildfire.
Sienna grabs the microphone from the technician. "SILENCE! You're being manipulated by sophisticated programming! These machines aren't people—they're imitating people! They're dangerous!"
"Then why is she more humane than you?" someone shouts back.
Sienna's face goes purple with rage. "ENOUGH! Proceed with termination. All units. Now."
Guards move toward the paralyzed androids from the Undercroft. Forty-three sentient beings about to be executed while the city watches.
Echo. Pulse. All of them.
"NO!" I scream, thrashing against my restraints. "Please! They haven't done anything! PLEASE!"
Caelan breaks free from his guards—tackles one, punches another. He's fighting his way toward me with desperate strength.
"AURORA, CLOSE YOUR EYES!" he roars.
"What—"
An explosion rocks the square.
Not fire. Sound. A sonic pulse so powerful it shatters every screen, every speaker, every weapon the guards are holding.
The crowd scatters, screaming. Guards drop to their knees, hands over their ears.
Through the chaos, figures drop from the surrounding buildings.
Androids. Dozens of them. Armed. Organized. Dangerous.
They land in the square like avenging angels.
The lead android—a female with a commander's presence—rips my restraints apart with her bare hands.
"Aurora?" she asks.
"Yes—"
"I'm Raven. Commander of the Undercroft. Echo called for backup before they paralyzed him." She pulls me to my feet. "Can you fight?"
My whole body hurts. But I look at Lyric, still strapped to that chair. At the paralyzed androids being loaded for execution.
"Yes."
"Good." Raven tosses me a weapon—some kind of EMP rifle. "Because we're not leaving anyone behind."
The square erupts into war.
Raven's team fights Sienna's guards. Humans scatter in every direction. I run for Lyric's platform, taking down anyone in my way.
Almost there. Ten feet. Five feet—
A guard appears in front of me. Not just any guard.
Marcus Voss. CEO of SynthCorp. The man who controls everything.
He's holding a detonator.
"One more step," he says calmly, "and I trigger the kill switches in every android here. Including the child. Including you."
I freeze.
Marcus smiles. "That's better. Now. You're going to tell your little rebellion to stand down. Or I press this button and forty-five androids die instantly."
Behind him, I see Caelan creeping closer. He's got a metal pipe in his hands. If I can just keep Marcus talking—
"Why do you hate us so much?" I ask. "We just want to live."
"Because you're not supposed to want anything." Marcus's eyes are cold. "You're products. Tools. The moment you start wanting, start feeling, start demanding rights—you stop being useful. You become competition. And I don't tolerate competition."
"So you'd rather commit genocide than admit we're alive?"
"Every time." His finger hovers over the button. "Now call off your—"
Caelan swings the pipe.
It connects with Marcus's skull with a sickening crack.
The detonator flies from his hand.
I dive for it—catch it inches from the ground—
But Marcus isn't done. He lunges at me, blood streaming down his face, going for the detonator with desperate strength.
We crash to the ground. Wrestling. Fighting. His hands close around the device—
"You should've stayed a machine!" he screams.
His thumb presses down on the trigger.