Day four started much like the others—quiet and uneventful but still somewat awkward to wake up in a home and not on my desk in the facility but it was a silent morning. At least, that’s what I hoped for as I trudged through the morning. By mid-afternoon, those hopes were dashed. It started with the knock on the door.
I ignored it at first, assuming it was a neighbor or a delivery at the wrong house. But the knocking persisted, louder and more insistent. When I peeked through the window, my stomach sank. There were people outside—reporters, by the looks of it. Cameras slung over shoulders, microphones in hand, their eyes scanning the house like wolves circling prey.
"Just what I need," I muttered under my breath, stepping back from the window. I wasn’t in the mood to answer questions, especially not theirs.
The media hadn’t been this aggressive before. Sure, there were whispers about SynLife and its latest “project,” but mostly just one or two reporters at the office or facility. Clearly, word had gotten out now—probably about Alpha and me at the mall.
The knocking turned into a cacophony of voices shouting.
I opened the door and was bombarded with questions.
“Mr. Black, can we get a comment?”
“Is it true you’re harboring one of SynLife’s test units?”
“How do you feel about the public’s safety concerns?”
I clenched my jaw and closed the door again. The audacity of these people—it was just 8 in the morning. I wasn’t going to give them a soundbite.
But ignoring them wasn’t an option anymore. I grabbed my jacket, where my phone was stored, and called the office to ask for help. Stanton’s response was infuriatingly dismissive: "that's the media for you" “don't worry you can totally Deal with it.”
As I opened the door again, I kept my head down and pushed back the crowd. Cameras clicked rapidly, microphones were shoved in my face.
“Mr. Black, can we see the Drone?”
“Does SynLife know what’s happening here?”
“Is it true the prototype’s dangerous?”
"Does it really look like a protogen?"
I tried to answer everything I could without spilling sensitive information, but I was quickly overwhelmed while voices grew louder and some people became more agressive.
----------------------------------------
Alpha's POV
I stood silently by the kitchen, observing the commotion outside through the window. Marcus’s behavior was erratic—tense and hurried. His voice had taken on a sharper edge, though it wasn’t directed at me. The humans outside were the source of the disruption.I was still concerned about the growing sense that i was merging with the ai that we would become inseperable that i would loose more of what unbroken human mind I had left but for now i was sorta back because when i tried to move the familiar ai chimed with its percentage reports of deviance but when i was 'asleep' why where the commands like my all in those periodes
When Marcus left the house to stand before the open door and answer questions, I remained in place contemplating and thinking about what will happen to me if i don't "wake up" anymore when i have fully merged with the Ai in my head 'Our head?' Who of us will be Absorbed in to the other :Me into the Ai or the Ai into Me what will be left, If i dissapear will i go back in to the void or will i finally die but if i die but then what will happen with the others back in the facility ....
This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.
while I was going trough a personal crisis The activity outside escalated. the Ai notified me about that Voices grew louder. Cameras clicked incessantly. the Ai registered a spike in the sound spectrum of marcus voice—distress.
The Ai urged me to investigate. Marcus had not explicitly ordered Us to stay inside, but the AI subroutines hammered home the priority: I was to protect my owner.
I approached the door, the ai helping by activating my sensory systems to monitor the situation. Just as I stepped outside the kitchen into the entrance hallway, the humans turned their focus to me.
“There it is!” one of them shouted. Cameras aimed at me, flashes illuminating my visor.
“Alpha! Can you answer any questions?”
The humans moved closer. Their behaviors were intrusive and unpredictable. Marcus was swallowed in the center of the group, his expression strained. As he tried to move through them back trough the door, one of the humans grabbed his arm, halting his progress.
Marcus stumbled slightly, and the ai detected an increase in his heart rate. A secondary human pushed forward, their equipment colliding with Marcus’s shoulder.
My directive, the ai told me was clear: protect Marcus, neutralize possible agressors.
I stepped forward, closing the distance in a calculated stride. The humans hesitated as I approached, their body language shifting to fear.
One of them showed no fear. They moved closer, their hand still on Marcus’s arm. My response was immediate. I extended my arm, carefully to not hurt them with my claws but decisively pushing the human away by their arm. They stumbled, losing their balance but my grip didn't waver then the man started crying the ai sensors reciving a silent crack from the human i was holding. their wrist or arm probably broke trough their motion's of struggle.
Another human attempted to intervene, their camera raised. the ai assessed them as a potential threat and urged me to repeat my action, ensuring Marcus had a clear path.
“Alpha, stop!” Marcus’s voice broke through the commotion. the Ai paused us immediately, recalibrating.
The humans recoiled, their faces a visage of shock. Why where they shocked ,I didn't know the reason the one who had broken something clutched their arm, muttering something about assault. Cameras continued to click, capturing every moment.
----------------------------------------
Marcus's POV
“Alpha stop!” I shouted, rushing toward him. He stopped mid-motion, his towering frame stiff as he turned to face me. The reporters had backed off, but one not without injury.
“What the hell are you doing?” I demanded more to the reporters than to alpha, my voice rising more..
Alpha didn’t respond. He stood there, unmoving, his visor dim and unreadable.
The reporters’ shouting resumed, angrier now. Words like “dangerous” and “lawsuit” flew through the air. My frustration boiled over.
“Enough!” I barked, at them. “This is private property. Get off my lawn!” "If you want to ask questions go to the main buildingin the city !"
They didn’t need to be told twice. Muttering under their breath, they started to retreat, but the damage was done. Cameras had caught everything.
I turned back to Alpha, my anger giving way to a heavy sigh. “Inside. Now.”
Alpha obeyed without hesitation.
----------------------------------------
Later That Evening
I couldn’t shake the tension from earlier as I stood in the kitchen, cooking something simple—soup, maybe. The boiling water hissed as I stirred it, trying to focus on the task. My shoulders were tight, my mind racing.
Alpha was in the corner, plugged into the charging station someone had set up in the living room before we moved in. His posture was unnervingly still, his visor faintly glowing as he recharged.
I glanced at him briefly, then back at the stove. “You shouldn’t have done that,” I said, more to myself than to him.
Of course, there was no response.
I moved to the counter, mixing the nutrient paste for Alpha’s next meal. The mechanical motions of stirring the powder into water felt grounding, in a way. Familiar. Simple.
Behind me, I felt Alpha’s gaze—or what passed for it—on me. Even recharging, he seemed alert. Watching. Waiting. just like he was designed for.
I sighed, setting the glass of nutrient paste on the counter. “You scared them, you know.”
Still no response.
The silence was almost comforting in its predictability.
As I sat down to eat, I couldn’t help but replay the day’s events in my mind. The reporters, the chaos, Alpha stepping in to protect me. It should have been reassuring, but all it did was leave me with more questions.
What had I gotten myself into?
The house settled into its usual quiet as the night deepened. I finished my meal, cleaned up, filled the nutrient paste container at alphas station and prepared for another restless night.