Marcus’s POV

The diagnostics bay buzzed with activity, the hum of machinery mingling with the soft beeping of monitors. Alpha stood on the platform, his imposing frame illuminated by the sterile overhead lights. Cables snaked from his open torso to the nearby consoles, feeding streams of data into screens filled with intricate graphs and code I tried my best to decipher.

The technicians moved around him with practiced efficiency, connecting wires and adjusting instruments. Their faces betrayed nothing—no concern, no urgency, just the detached professionalism of people who’d done this a hundred times before.

The sharp, deliberate click of approaching heels broke through the ambient noise. I turned toward the source of the sound, and that’s when I saw her: Dr. Lila Graves.

She strode into the bay with an air of authority that was impossible to ignore. Tall and poised, her dark hair pulled into a sleek bun, she exuded confidence. Her pristine lab coat seemed as much a uniform as it was a statement. She carried a tablet like it was an extension of herself, her fingers gliding across its surface as she surveyed the room.

Her eyes landed on me, sharp and assessing. I found myself straightening instinctively under her gaze.

“Marcus Black,” she said, her voice smooth and measured. “I’ve heard quite a bit about you.”

“And you are?” I asked, feigning ignorance, even though her name had already been mentioned.

“Dr. Lila Graves,” she replied, extending a hand. “Temporary head of research and development. I’ve been overseeing operations and testing in your... absence.”

I shook her hand, her grip firm and deliberate. “Nice to meet you,” I said, keeping my tone neutral. “Though I wouldn’t call it an absence. I’ve been hands-on with Alpha.”

“Of course,” she said with a faint smile. “That’s precisely why I wanted to speak with you. Alpha’s performance—or rather, the anomalies you’ve reported—are of great interest to me.” Her gaze shifted to Alpha, lingering on him like she was studying a piece of art. “I developed his core OS 10 years ago along with my brother for a SynLife project that was shelved. Imagine my surprise when I discovered my work was dusted off and repurposed for combat drones.”

The implication in her tone was impossible to miss.

“Alpha is now my responsibility,” I said tightly. “That’s why I’m here. There’s a problem with him.”

Dr. Graves barely acknowledged my words, already moving past me toward the platform where Alpha stood. The technicians stepped aside as she approached, their deference to her authority clear. She studied the data streaming across the monitors, her expression focused.

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Her fingers danced across her tablet. “The frame is stable, no damage on the internals,” she murmured, almost to herself. “And the synthetic chameleon fur is undamaged. That leaves us with the software.”

She turned to Ellis, her voice sharp. “Is this still the base programming, or has it been altered like some others ?”

Ellis hesitated, looking uncomfortable. “Uh, we didn’t change the base code, as far as I know. We’ve added subroutines—some combat protocols, safeguards—but the core OS remains untouched.”

“Interesting,” Dr. Graves said calm, but a glimmer of something unreadable flashing in her eyes.

Dr. Lila Graves’s POV

On the outside I was calm but Inside, I was practically vibrating with excitement. They hadn’t altered the core OS. They’d simply layered new instructions and an AI on top of it like a crude patchwork quilt, unaware of the brilliance—and the danger—beneath.

They didn’t know.

Not a single person in this room understood what forces they were working with. The Alpha 'OS' wasn’t a mere AI. It was a revolution. It was the next step in evolution—the cyberization of the human mind.

When SynLife shelved my project 10 years ago, they believed we had created an advanced artificial intelligence. But my brother and I knew the truth. The cores we built weren’t just algorithms or lines of code. They were functioning human minds.

Human minds we had carefully digitized and refined with consent of the subjects.

The program had been shuttered after my brother’s tragedy—a public relations nightmare that SynLife couldn’t afford. His daughter had been one of the first successful transfers, but her core was unstable, and her untimely death cast a shadow over our work. Because of that, SynLife shut us down, leaving a thousand secretly digitized human minds locked in crates, abandoned in a warehouse.

Or so I thought.

Ten years later, they’d resurrected the cores. And instead of using them for the advancement of humanity that they were meant for, they had installed them into combat drones and put an AI on top to ensure compliance with orders.

It was no wonder Alpha was malfunctioning. No wonder some drones were “different.” His mind—his human mind—was struggling to reconcile its existence with the cold, mechanical reality of its body and AI. It was like speaking two completely different languages.

I couldn’t suppress a small smile. The irony was almost poetic. Something designed to elevate the human species was now being used to cull it.

Marcus’s POV

“What do you mean, ‘interesting’?” I repeated, my patience wearing thin.

Dr. Graves turned to me, her expression unreadable. “What I mean, Mr. Black, is that Alpha isn’t experiencing a glitch.”

“Then what?” I snapped. “What’s wrong with him?”

She tilted her head, studying me like I was a particularly slow student. “There’s nothing wrong with him. On the contrary, Alpha is... just confused.”

Her words hit me like a brick. Confused? Alpha was a machine. Machines didn’t get confused—not like that. They performed tasks. They executed commands. Any adaptations were pre-programmed responses, not genuine decisions.

“What are you talking about?” James demanded. “It’s a drone. Advanced, yes, but not some—some sentient being!”

Dr. Graves folded her arms, her calm composure unshaken. “Alpha is more than you think he is. And if any of you want to understand what’s happening to him, you’re going to need to dig deeper.”

Her words left a heavy silence in the air, the hum of the machines the only sound.

“Deeper how?” I asked, my voice quieter now.

She stepped closer to Alpha, her eyes scanning him with a mix of curiosity and reverence. “Alpha is an experiment,” she said softly. “He represents something... unprecedented. If you’re ready to face that truth, I suggest you prepare yourself. Because He is only the beginning of something .”

Her cryptic tone sent a chill down my spine. I glanced at Alpha, standing there as silent and motionless as ever.

What are you? I thought to myself.