The lab was a hive of activity that morning, the usual quiet hum replaced by the buzz of last-minute preparations. Today wasn’t just another test or internal showcase. It was the day SynLife officially unveiled its adaptable combat drones to the world. Investors, buyers, industry insiders, and Journalists were set to attend, eager to witness the culmination of years of research and development.

For weeks, the team had fine-tuned every detail of the presentation. Each drone was polished and calibrated, their movements rehearsed to perfection. Our project’s future—and by extension, our careers—depended on the success of this event.

Despite the pressure, one thing was certain: Alpha was the undeniable star of the show. Even though he wasn’t up for sale, his capabilities and design made him the heart of the program. His seamless blend of adaptability, stealth, and combat efficiency was unmatched, a living embodiment of SynLife’s vision.

To ensure his position remained secure, I had taken steps most of my colleagues might have found excessive. Not only was Alpha officially marked “Not for Sale,” but I had personally placed a portion of my salary into a deposit to secure his ownership rights. Alpha wasn’t just a drone to me. He was the first, the prototype, the proof of concept that had paved the way for everything we had achieved ,He was Special.No one else would take him—not while I had any say in the matter.

The presentation began with fanfare and precision. Our CEO delivered a rousing speech about innovation and the future of warfare, his words carefully crafted to captivate the room. After an Interview With The Journalist’sThe drones were showcased in a series of live demonstrations, each one tailored to highlight their unique capabilities.

Delta units displayed their brutal efficiency in close-quarters combat, while Tau units demonstrated sniper precision and adaptability. An Epsilon model showcased its personal protection features, neutralizing a staged “threat” with a speed and decisiveness that left the audience stunned. Each demonstration was met with applause, the excitement in the room building with every passing moment.

When Alpha took the stage, the energy shifted. Even among a room full of innovative technology, Alpha stood apart. His movements were fluid, His fur looked almost organic, as he executed a flawless simulation of infiltration and neutralization. The new electromagnetic cloaking system allowed him to vanish from scans entirely, and the biosynthetic fur—designed to change color to match his surroundings—added an eerie realism to his performance.

By the time the demonstrations concluded, the room was buzzing with interest. The auction began shortly after, and the bids came fast and high.

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Delta094522, a close-quarters combat drone, was sold to a private security firm for a staggering sum. Its new owners seemed particularly eager to boast about their acquisition, already planning to market their firm’s services with their “cutting-edge asset.”

An Epsilon personal guard drone was the next to go, sold to a wealthy client as a bodyguard. The buyer, a tall, imposing figure surrounded by his entourage, didn’t even flinch at the price. The man’s air of confidence—and the hints of paranoia in his entourage’s constant scanning of the room—spoke volumes about the world the drones were stepping into.

Each sale brought applause and murmurs of approval, but beneath the surface, I felt a growing unease. These weren’t just tools or machines anymore. They were entering a world that would test the limits of their design—and their creators’ intentions.

After the auction, the attendees mingled, discussing the presentations and placing inquiries about future purchases. It was during this period that I was approached by a well-dressed couple, accompanied by the event’s announcer.

The man, exuding an air of casual arrogance, wasted no time getting to his point. “Are there plans to develop drones that are more... humanlike?” he asked, his tone implying he already knew the answer. “Something less combat-oriented and more suitable for "personal" use?”

The implication behind his words hit me immediately, and a wave of disgust rose in my chest. It wasn’t just the question—it was the way he asked it, as though it were a natural progression of our work. As though turning our drones into something exploitable for personal gratification was inevitable.

Before I could respond—before the sharp retort I was forming could escape my lips—the woman beside him stepped in.

Her expression shifted from Neutral to outright anger. “What is wrong with you?” she snapped, her voice cutting through the hum of conversation around us. “Do you ever think before you speak? These are machines built for security and defense, not—whatever you’re imagining. Stop embarrassing me!”

The man muttered something under his breath, but her glare silenced him. She turned back to me, her tone curt but apologetic. “I’m sorry for his... lack of tact.”

I nodded, keeping my composure despite the anger bubbling beneath the surface. “SynLife’s drones are designed with specific, utilitarian purposes in mind. We don’t build them for frivolous or unethical uses.” My words were clipped, the weight behind them unmistakable.

The couple moved on, the man chastised and the woman still fuming. But the encounter lingered in my mind, gnawing at the edges of my thoughts.

The room that ,just Moments ago was a place of pride and accomplishment, now felt suffocating. Investors and buyers buzzed around the displayed drones, discussing their applications with excitement and anticipation. Yet I couldn’t shake the feeling that we had crossed an invisible line—one we might not be able to step back from.

Alpha stood silently on the stage, his dark visor gleaming under the lights. He was the culmination of everything we had worked for, a testament to our ingenuity. But as I watched the crowd circle him like predators, I couldn’t help but wonder:

Had we created something extraordinary? Or had we unleashed something the world wasn’t ready for—something it would exploit and corrupt in ways we hadn’t anticipated?

The question lingered, heavy and unanswered, as the day wore on.