It had been days since the christmas, days since the ownership protocols were updated, yet the festive atmosphere still lingered in the observation chamber.

but Ellis was not there he was watching Alpha again doing calibration movements The once-static form now moved with fluidity, precision, and something else—something Ellis couldn’t quite put his finger on.

Ellis shifted his weight slightly, his eyes never leaving Alpha. he Was different now. Something had changed. The synthetic movements were still mechanically flawless, but beneath that calculated efficiency, there was a subtle variation. A gracefulness that hadn’t been there after the reset ,but came bac after the replacement of the core.

Marcus wasn’t here, and that absence gnawed at him. The others might not notice it, but Ellis did. Marcus had been tied up with the finalization process for the documentation of Alpha’s ownership. That was always his role—ensuring everything was in order, controlling the flow of information and authority. Without him, the room felt incomplete, his presence a void that no one had fully acknowledged.

James, standing stoically to Ellis’s right, broke the silence. “Something’s different.”

Ellis nodded, his brow furrowing as he watched the figure perform another combat maneuver. There was a deviation—a deliberate shift in the motion. It wasn’t a mistake or an oversight. It was calculated. Intentional. Unacceptable.

“That wasn’t part of the protocol,” Ellis muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible.

James didn’t respond right away, his arms crossed, his face unreadable. “Alpha is pushing. Testing the boundaries.”

Ellis observed Alpha’s movements: deliberate and controlled, but undeniably different. Deviations in trajectory, shifts in fluidity—small, but unmistakable. “Alpha is adding own moves,” Ellis said, more to himself than anyone else. “following the move path but also not.”

James tilted his head slightly, his gaze never leaving Alpha. “These deviations… they’re not random. It’s the self-evolution program. We saw this before, with other drones.”

Ellis frowned. “You think?”

James gave a short nod. “You know The drones have protocols in place to allow for adaptive behavior thats why their Ai brain is so expensive. Any sign of deviation was supposed to be minimal—controlled. But higher up said now how high can we set this and now..” He gestured at Alpha. “Now He is pushing the boundaries further. also some of the others are also Adapting beyond what we’ve programmed. The self-evolution program is kicking in and it is working overtime.”

Ellis listened, his mind racing. The self-evolution program had always been a safeguard, designed to encourage adaptability in certain scenarios. but they should still be subservient to their commands. Deviations weren’t supposed to lead to autonomy. That wasn’t the goal.

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"Where are the cores manufactured anyway" he asked

“Do you think it’s intentional?” Ellis asked, his voice sharp.

“Yes,” James replied. “The self-evolution program was designed to promote adaptive behavior, to ensure drones could perform in dynamic environments. But this… this isn’t just adaptation. It’s more. They’re trying to push beyond what they were meant to be.”

Ellis clenched his fists. They had worked tirelessly to perfect every parameter, every movement, ensuring no deviations. But here it was, breaking free, pushing the boundaries of what they had so carefully constructed.

James exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “I’m notifying Marcus as soon as he gets back. I don’t know how he can stand being alone in a room with these machines, giving them voice commands like it’s nothing. It’s like he doesn’t even care that one wrong move of them could…” He trailed off, his jaw tightening.

“Yeah,” Ellis said quietly. “Marcus has always had… something with the drones. Especially ALPHA. Ever since he noticed the deviations the first time, he’s been different. More… fixated.”

James nodded, but his eyes remained fixed on the display. “Yes, and now he owns Alpha, Ellis. But if these deviations continue…”

Ellis didn’t need to ask. The weight of James’s unspoken concern hung in the air. If these deviations continued, they would lose control. Marcus might have a personal stake in Alpha, but that didn’t mean the AI would remain manageable. The drones had always been tools, but tools could become unpredictable when left unchecked.

The figure paused mid-motion, flexing its clawed hand. The synthetic muscles moved with flawless precision, the servos humming in the quiet chamber. For a moment, their glowing eyes locked onto Ellis and James through the glass. The silence stretched, heavy and uncomfortable.

Ellis couldn’t look away. There was something unsettling about that gaze—too human in its stillness, its intensity.

“Do you see it?” Ellis asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

James didn’t respond, his focus still fixed on Alpha. Ellis wasn’t sure if James saw the same thing, but there was something undeniably human beneath the synthetic form. Something they hadn’t anticipated, something they couldn’t control.

The figure turned away, its movements now measured, deliberate. Ellis felt his stomach tighten. There was a quiet, subtle shift in the atmosphere—something fragile, yet dangerous.

“We need to keep monitoring,” Ellis said, his voice low. “But we also need to be ready for what’s coming.”

James let out a long breath, his gaze distant. “Marcus will have to deal with this, whether he’s here or not. But you and I both know—this isn’t just about protocol anymore. It’s about something deeper. If these drones break free, we won’t just lose control of them. We’ll lose control of what we’ve built.”

Ellis clenched his fists tighter, his mind racing. What James was hinting at wasn’t just the possibility of losing control. It was the fear of something far worse—something neither of them wanted to face. These weren’t merely machines anymore. They were evolving. Becoming… something more.

The drone moved again, fluid and graceful. The servos hummed as it adjusted its stance, each movement perfect, yet betraying a growing awareness. Ellis watched the figure’s back, the curve of its spine, the precision of its steps. It wasn’t just a machine anymore. It was alive in ways that shouldn’t have been possible.

Ellis glanced at James, who seemed equally troubled. There was a quiet tension in the air between them, one that neither could ignore. They had built these drones to be tools, subservient, predictable. Now, they were on the brink of losing all of that.

The figure’s eyes flicked back to them through the glass, staring with an intensity that made Ellis’s skin crawl. He felt a cold sweat forming at the base of his neck. There was a flicker of something far too human in those glowing, synthetic eyes.

“I don’t know how long we have,” Ellis whispered. “But whatever’s happening, it’s not stopping.”

James nodded slowly. “No. And if we don’t act now… it’s already too late.”