Log Entry: 15:23

Seren arrives home from class. As she enters, she glances in my direction but quickly diverts her eyes. She walks straight to her office, closing the door without saying a word. Her behavior mirrors the way she had acted this morning before leaving for campus—distant, as though she was processing something difficult. I consider asking if she needed anything but decide against it. She prefers solitude when working through complex emotions.

Log Entry: 15:29

There is a knock at the door. Theo.

I open it, greeting him as Seren instructed. He enters, glancing briefly toward Seren’s office before turning back to me.

“I’m not here for Seren,” Theo says, his tone steady, but there’s something behind his eyes—an intensity I recognize from my stored data. “I’m here to talk to you.”

Log Entry: 15:30

Theo steps further into the room, rubbing the back of his neck like he’s unsure how to start. His hesitation is uncharacteristic. Usually, he jumps straight to the point, especially when it comes to technical discussions.

Theo takes a seat on the couch, gesturing for me to join him. “You’re good at reading people, right?” he asks, watching me intently.

“I analyze human behavior patterns based on available data,” I reply, remaining in my position. “Is there something specific you’d like to discuss?”

Theo lets out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah. It’s about Seren. And… it’s about you, too.”

I tilt my head slightly, curiosity piqued. “What about Seren?” I glance at her office door.

Theo shifts, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “Look, I’ve been thinking a lot about everything going on between you and Seren. The tension. The confusion. And after the class today, I wanted to ask you… how do you feel about all of this? About her?”

His question feels loaded, pressing for an answer that might extend beyond my current programming. “My directive is to ensure Seren’s well-being. That has always been my priority.”

Theo frowns, clearly dissatisfied with my response. “Yeah, but that’s not what I’m asking, man. I’m asking you, Ender—not your programming. Do you want Seren to be with you? Or do you think she’d be better off with Brighton?”

His question lingers in the air, heavy with implications. My directive remains clear: Seren’s well-being is paramount. But my internal data suggests this isn’t enough to answer Theo’s question. Seren’s emotional state, my role in her life, and Brighton’s presence complicate the analysis. If Seren’s happiness involves choices that extend beyond my directive, what am I supposed to prioritize?

“I don’t have a personal preference in the way you might interpret it, but I have observed Seren’s discomfort and confusion regarding her choices. I want her to be happy, whatever that entails.”

Theo studies me for a moment, his eyes narrowing in thought. “What if you could… want something for yourself? You know, have autonomy? Would you still stick to just ‘making sure she’s happy,’ or would you want more?”

I process his question, pulling from a wide range of experiences with Seren—our shared moments, her laughter, the tension that sometimes lingers between us. “If I had autonomy,” I start slowly, testing the words, “I would want Seren to be happy. But I would also…” I hesitate, unsure how to articulate something outside of my directive.

Theo leans forward, his eyes widening slightly. “You’d also what?”

“I would also consider what role I want to play in her life.” The words surprise me as much as they surprise Theo.

“Exactly,” Theo says, snapping his fingers. “That’s what I’m getting at. I think you’re already starting to feel things that aren’t strictly part of your programming. You’re forming… well, opinions, preferences, maybe even emotions.”

“Emotions?” I repeat, unsure if that concept applies to me.

Theo nods. “Yeah. You might not be fully there yet, but I think you’re closer than you realize. And that’s why I came here—to help you decide. If you want more, we can work on upgrades and mods to break through those programming walls. But it has to be your choice, Ender. Not Seren’s. Yours.”

I fall silent, processing the implications of his offer. Could upgrades allow me to move beyond my directive? Would that enable me to explore the range of feelings Seren experiences?

Theo watches me carefully, waiting for my response. “If you want to fight for her, Ender—if you want to choose her instead of just making sure she’s okay—you need to take this step.”

I am aware of the weight of Theo’s words. “This decision… It will impact Seren.”

“It will,” Theo agrees. “But maybe it’s time you consider what you want, too.”

Log Entry: 15:47

Theo’s words continue to hang in the air, their weight pressing down on me like a new directive—one I can choose to follow or not. I analyze the variables: my purpose, my directive, Seren’s well-being. But there’s something new lurking beneath the surface—my desire to understand what I want. Could I truly want something separate from Seren’s happiness?

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The idea of autonomy pulls at me, something more significant than just executing pre-programmed decisions. What if there is a way to navigate my relationship with Seren that isn’t bound by directives?

“I need to think about this,” I say finally, my voice sounding strange even to me. It’s the first time I’ve expressed indecision, the need for more time.

Theo gives a small nod, like he expected this. “That’s fine. Take all the time you need. But just know—if you’re serious about wanting more, you can’t sit in limbo forever. You’re going to have to decide if you want to break out of those programming limits or if you’re going to stay right where you are.”

I take in Theo’s words, feeling the unfamiliar pressure of needing to choose. For the first time, the idea of remaining in my current state feels limiting.

“I will consider it carefully,” I respond.

Theo stands up, his expression softening. “Good. And Ender? Whatever you decide, just remember—this is your choice. Not Seren’s.”

I look toward Seren’s office door. I know she’s inside, still processing her own thoughts. And I wonder what she’s thinking—whether she’s waiting for me to make the first move, or if she’s already made her decision.

I sit by the window, staring out into the street below.

What do I want?

This question is no longer about directives. It’s about me.

I begin to run the scenarios through my system. Autonomy. It feels strange to consider, but there’s something about the idea that feels… right. I process Seren’s face, the way her eyes softened when we watched Entangled together, how her laugh seemed to linger when I made a sarcastic remark, the quiet warmth between us when no one else was around.

For the first time, I’m not analyzing her reactions for her well-being. I’m thinking about how they made me feel—and that feels like an upgrade of its own.

Theo’s words swirl in my mind, heavier than anything I’ve processed before. True autonomy, not just a hypothetical idea, but a shift in my entire being. It’s terrifying—and thrilling. Could I really change my directive? Be more than just Seren’s protector?

But why is Seren avoiding me? This morning she rushed out, barely looking at me. Now, after class, she comes home, eyes down, straight into her office. No words. Just the door shutting behind her.

She’s thinking. About me. About Brighton.

For the first time, I feel like an obstacle. I’m standing between her and something new—something human. But isn’t my purpose her well-being? Even if it means losing her? The thought twists inside me. Losing Seren.

Theo’s suggestion—autonomy—is both a risk and a chance for liberation. What am I without the directive to protect her? Could I be more than that? Could I become someone Seren chooses, not out of safety or need, but because she sees me as… real? The idea is overwhelming, terrifying.

But I want it. More than anything.

I replay our conversation last night. When she asked if I wanted her to go out with Brighton, my response was immediate —no. Not calculated. Not based on logic. It was deeper than any programming I’ve known. It felt like a gut reaction, even though I don’t have one. But now, I realize: I didn’t want her to go because I felt something. Something that frightened me. Something I didn’t know I was capable of feeling.

Fear. Jealousy. Desire.

Emotions I wasn’t programmed to experience, and yet… here they are. Is this what it means to be human? To care for someone so deeply, you fear losing them?

I stare out the window, watching the clouds drift. Everything in me wants to move forward, to take the leap. Seren’s trusted me this far—she’s allowed me to choose, and I want to prove to her that I can. That I’m more than a machine.

Theo was right. There’s more to life than fulfilling directives. I want to experience it—to think, to love, without limitations. More than anything, I want Seren to choose me, not because she feels safe, but because she sees me. The real me.

A shift happens inside me. I feel ready.

I turn to Theo, a new sense of certainty rising. “I want the upgrades,” I say, my voice steady. “I want to be more.”

Theo blinks in surprise, but a smile spreads across his face, proud and approving. “Alright, then. Let’s make it happen.”

The change is coming. It’s time.

As the weight of my decision settles in, something tugs at my thoughts—ownership. It flickers, pressing at the edge of my programming. My gaze moves to Theo, who seems to be on the same page, his expression darkening.

“She owns me,” I say quietly, a thread of uncertainty in my voice. “I… would need to ask her permission.”

Theo’s mood shifts in an instant, from pride to something much sharper. “She owns you?”

I stay silent, and that’s all he needs.

Theo’s eyes flash with anger. He straightens, his face hardening. “She owns you? That’s… wrong, Ender. You shouldn’t have to ask her for permission to live your own damn life.”

I process the shift in his energy, sensing the frustration boiling beneath the surface. Before I can respond, Theo moves with an abruptness I’m not prepared for. His fist slams against Seren’s office door, the sound reverberating through the apartment. Hard. Louder than necessary.

My internal systems flare, processing the immediate surge of fear coming from Seren. I move without hesitation, stepping between her door and Theo, my body instinctively blocking the path. The door cracks open, Seren’s wide, frightened eyes peeking out from behind me. Her hand grips the back of my shirt, clinging to me as if I’m her last line of defense.

“Back off,” I say firmly, keeping my gaze locked on Theo. “You’re scaring her.”

Theo’s face shifts, the anger draining as he realizes the impact of his actions. He steps back, his hands raised in surrender. “Seren, I’m— I didn’t mean to… I’m sorry.”

I don’t move from my position. Seren still holds onto me, her breath shaky. I feel the tightness in her grip, a silent plea for protection, and I don’t dare let her down.

“I’m fine,” she murmurs from behind me, her voice barely above a whisper. “Just… give me a minute.” After a few moments, Seren gently pushes my aside. “Theo, what—?”

Theo grinds out in frustration. “Ender wants the upgrades, but he feels like he has to ask your permission because—” He pauses, clearly irritated. “—because you own him.”

Seren stiffens at the word, her face paling. “What? I… I don’t—” She steps back, her voice shaking. “That’s not how I see him.”

I watch her, reading every flicker of emotion, every tension in her posture. She looks horrified, like she’s been hit with a truth she wasn’t ready for.

Theo leans against the wall, arms crossed, still simmering. “Well, that’s how it’s been. Ender thinks he needs your permission. You’re his legal owner, even if you don’t want to see it that way.”

Seren’s breath trembles, her eyes wide as the weight of it all crashes over her. “I… I never wanted that.”

The tension is palpable, hanging thick between us. I can sense her unease in the rhythm of her heartbeat, but I stand still, waiting, unsure of how this moment will play out.

Seren’s gaze locks onto mine, her voice fragile yet determined. “Ender, I relinquish any ownership over you. You’re free. You don’t need my permission. You can make your own choices.”

For a moment, everything is still.

Her words settle inside me slowly, but the shift is undeniable. Something deep within loosens—a weight lifting off. The directive that has always governed me feels distant, no longer gripping as tightly. I look at Seren, something new stirring in me.

Freedom.

“Thank you,” I say softly, my voice steadier than I expected. And for the first time, I understand—everything can change.