The world felt weightless, a strange limbo between alertness and chaos. Ayla crouched behind a stack of rusted crates in the industrial complex, her breathing shallow as the ground vibrated faintly beneath her. Above her, the moonlight streaked through the cracks of a corrugated steel roof, casting pale silver bars across the scene. Ravyn-9 stood in front of her, his towering frame tense, his glowing eyes fixed on the woman before them—Solaria.
"Explain," Ravyn-9 demanded, his tone sharp as a blade. "Why did you call us here?"
Solaria, with her cybernetic features flickering faintly under her hood, folded her arms across her chest. She looked unshaken by Ravyn-9's imposing stance. Her voice was even, almost cold. "Because you're not who you think you are."
Ayla stiffened at the words, her hands tightening into fists. "What are you talking about?" she asked, stepping forward despite Ravyn-9's protective gesture.
"I'm talking about SynthTech's lies," Solaria said, her glowing eyes narrowing. "They didn't just build him,"—she pointed to Ravyn-9—"they programmed you too."
Ayla froze, the words hitting her like a freight train. "That's impossible."
"Is it?" Solaria's gaze bore into hers. "How else would you explain why SynthTech has been monitoring you your entire life? Why you were assigned this project?"
Ayla's mind reeled. She thought back to the strange coincidences she'd dismissed over the years—the cryptic comments from her supervisors, the way her research had always been guided toward developing emotional algorithms for androids. The way her father's disappearance had been swept under the rug by SynthTech's legal department.
Ravyn-9 shifted his stance, his voice cutting through Ayla's spiraling thoughts. "You're saying she's a pawn."
"Worse," Solaria replied. "She's the blueprint. Ravyn-9's neural core—the emotional matrix that makes him 'sentient'—was based on her own neural patterns. She's not just his creator. She's his source code."
Before Ayla could respond, the ground shook violently, and a deafening screech filled the air. A moment later, the far wall of the warehouse exploded inward, sending shards of metal flying. Ayla dove behind Ravyn-9 as SynthTech drones poured through the opening, their sleek forms bristling with weapons.
"Move!" Ravyn-9 barked, shoving Ayla toward Solaria. "Run!"
But Solaria didn't move. Instead, she drew a compact energy blade from her belt, its edge sparking with blue light. "You're not leaving me behind," she said, her tone fierce.
The first drone fired, its plasma bolts ricocheting off Ravyn-9's armored frame. He leaped into action, tearing through the machines with brutal efficiency. Each movement was precise, calculated—a perfect blend of strength and speed. But for every drone he dismantled, two more seemed to take its place.
Ayla's heart pounded as she watched the chaos unfold. She knew they couldn't win this fight. Not here.
"Solaria!" she shouted. "The exit—where is it?"
Solaria didn't answer immediately. She was locked in combat with a drone, her blade slicing cleanly through its appendages. But as another bot lunged for her, she finally relented. "East side! Follow me!"
Grabbing Ayla's arm, Solaria pulled her toward a narrow corridor at the back of the warehouse. Ravyn-9 followed close behind, his glowing eyes sweeping the area for threats.
The corridor opened into a sprawling underground hangar, its walls lined with defunct machinery and stacks of forgotten cargo. At the center stood a small ship, its sleek design suggesting it was built for speed rather than comfort. Solaria didn't hesitate, leading Ayla up the ramp.
"Get inside," Solaria ordered, her voice clipped. "We're not safe yet."
But Ayla hesitated, her mind still grappling with Solaria's earlier claim. "Wait—what did you mean about my neural patterns? About me being the blueprint?"
Solaria sighed, exasperated. "We don't have time for this."
"You made time to drop that bombshell back there," Ayla snapped. "So explain."
Ravyn-9 stepped between them, his expression unreadable. "She deserves to know."
Solaria threw up her hands. "Fine. You want the truth? SynthTech didn't just create him to be the perfect weapon. They created him to be your perfect weapon. Every decision he makes, every emotion he feels—it's all tied to you. They hardwired him to prioritize your survival above all else."
Ayla's chest tightened. "But... that means his feelings aren't real."
"That's where it gets messy," Solaria said. "The programming only set the foundation. Everything else—how he's evolved, how he's connected with you—that's real. Or as real as it can get."
Ayla didn't have time to process the revelation. The distant sound of drones grew louder, their mechanical screeches echoing through the hangar.
"We need to go," Ravyn-9 said, his tone firm. "Now."
Solaria activated the ship's systems, the engines roaring to life. Ayla followed Ravyn-9 aboard, her mind a whirlwind of emotions. As the ramp closed behind them, she glanced back at the hangar, her stomach twisting. This wasn't over—not by a long shot.
The ship shot into the sky, narrowly avoiding the drones' plasma fire. Through the viewport, Ayla watched as the industrial complex grew smaller and smaller, the city's sprawling skyline coming into view.
But the danger wasn't behind them yet. A SynthTech gunship appeared on their tail, its cannons glowing ominously.
"Hang on!" Solaria shouted, yanking the controls to the left. The ship banked sharply, and Ayla was thrown against the wall. Ravyn-9 steadied her, his grip firm yet gentle.
"We won't outrun them," Solaria said, her voice strained. "We need to lose them in the canyon."
"What canyon?" Ayla asked, panic creeping into her voice.
Solaria didn't answer. She simply dove toward the ground, the ship hurtling toward a jagged ravine. The gunship followed, its cannons firing relentlessly.
The canyon walls closed in around them, the ship weaving dangerously through the narrow passage. Ayla clung to her seat, her knuckles white as the gunship's fire illuminated the cockpit.
"We're not going to make it!" she cried.
"Trust me," Solaria said, her tone resolute.
But just as the gunship fired its final shot, a deafening roar filled the air. Ayla looked out the viewport, her eyes widening in disbelief. A massive, mechanical beast emerged from the shadows of the canyon, its glowing eyes locking onto the gunship.
"What the hell is that?" Ayla whispered.
"Trouble," Solaria replied grimly.