The silence in the room thickened, every faint whir and click of the machine reverberating like an echo in Kite’s ears. Then, in a voice rasping with both mechanical precision and something unsettlingly raw, the baby uttered, “Heed my warning, father…” Kite’s breath hitched. That single word, father, felt heavy, as though it carried a weight far beyond its meaning. The robotic baby’s gaze flickered momentarily, its eyes a deep and haunting shade of violet, before fading into a softer hue. Its voice, though quiet, seemed to resonate, each syllable ringing with an ominous clarity.

“Despite my… intense hatred for her kind…” it continued, the deliberate pauses between its words laden with a personal venom. “That succubus… will be your greatest ally… in the coming years.”

Kite leaned closer, his heart pounding in his chest. The cryptic warning clawed at his mind, leaving him to wrestle with the implications. A succubus? An ally? He couldn’t make sense of it, but there was no mistaking the gravity in the baby’s tone. The tension in the air grew thick, a tangible unease settling over the room as if unseen eyes were watching.

“Treat her well…” the baby urged, its voice softening slightly. There was no malice now, only an urgent plea that cut through Kite’s rising apprehension. Then, the baby’s tiny lids began to droop, its head tilting slightly to one side as its systems wound down, its internal hum growing quieter.

Just as its eyes were about to close entirely, the baby’s voice broke through again, softer now but filled with a chilling undertone. “And… beware… of the devil…” Kite froze, his entire body stiffening at the words. The baby’s tone shifted into something more haunting, its coo-like cadence somehow more terrifying than its earlier declarations. “…hiding in human skin.”

The room felt colder, darker, as if the very act of speaking those words had disturbed some unseen balance. The baby’s eyelids fluttered, its glowing gaze dimming completely as it settled into an artificial slumber. The faint whirring of its mechanisms ceased, leaving a silence that felt deafening in its finality.

Kite sat back slowly, his mind a whirlwind of confusion and dread. The phrases echoed in his thoughts, cryptic and foreboding: Succubus… greatest ally… beware of the devil… hiding in human skin. A shiver ran down his spine as he sat there with wide-eyed stare.

The robotic baby’s face was serene now, its slumber unnervingly peaceful. Yet the ominous weight of its warnings lingered in the air, like the aftermath of a storm no one had seen coming.

Ava stood frozen in place; her small frame partially hidden behind the edge of a nearby table. She clutched the hem of her tattered, oversized shirt with trembling hands, the fabric twisted tightly between her fingers. Her usually mischievous demeanor was gone, replaced by wide-eyed horror. Her pink-shaded skin seemed even paler under the artificial lighting, and her irises, normally a soft, muted hue now burned with an intense, glowing pink.

The words of the robotic baby still echoed in her mind: "Despite my intense hatred for her kind, that succubus will be your greatest ally… beware of the devil, hiding in human skin." Each syllable felt like a sharp needle piercing through her carefully constructed façade, the words slicing deeper into the secret she fought so hard to protect.

She bit down on her lip, hard enough that it almost hurt, as panic surged through her. How did it know? Ava thought, her mind racing. How could it possibly know what I am? Her small, sharp teeth worried at the edge of her lip as she struggled to process the implications. It wasn’t just the words that unsettled her; it was the deliberate way the robotic baby had spoken them, as though delivering a prophecy etched in stone.

Ava’s glowing eyes darted to Kite, who still sat in stunned silence beside the cradle. She didn’t miss the way his hand trembled against the edge of the cradle, nor the faint flicker of unease that crossed Rad’s normally cocky expression. He doesn’t know… he doesn’t understand what it meant, she realized, her small chest rising and falling rapidly as she fought to control her breathing. But what if he finds out? What if they all do?

The thought terrified her. She wasn’t sure what was worse, the idea that Kite might turn on her if he learned the truth or the possibility that he wouldn’t. Would he see her as a monster? A threat? Or would he pity her, as if her very existence was something to be mourned?

Her gaze flicked toward Lira, who was gently tending to the robotic baby in the next cradle, somehow completely oblivious to the tension in the room as her pupils now glowed a soft purple hue. Ava envied her calm, the way she hummed softly under her breath as if nothing in the world could shake her. She’s so normal… Ava thought bitterly, her small fingers curling tighter against the fabric of her shirt. Not like me.

Her glowing eyes dimmed slightly, the light pulsing in time with her rapid heartbeat. The baby’s warning about a devil hiding in human skin haunted her most of all. Was it talking about me? she wondered. The possibility clawed at her, threatening to unravel what little confidence she had left. Ava had spent her entire life trying to suppress the truth of what she was, hiding behind ragged clothes and dirt-streaked skin to seem ordinary, unremarkable. But if the robotic baby could see through her, what was to stop others from doing the same?

For a fleeting moment, anger flared within her, burning bright and hot. It’s not fair, she thought, tears prickling at the corners of her eyes. I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t choose to be… this. But the anger quickly gave way to fear, her small shoulders trembling under the weight of her emotions. If that baby’s words were true, then her secret might already be slipping through her fingers like sand.

Ava turned her gaze back to Kite, her heart aching at the sight of his confusion and fear. He doesn’t deserve this, she thought, her tiny hands balling into fists. For all her mischief and pranks, Ava had grown to care about Kite in her own way, and the thought of bringing danger into his life made her stomach twist. I’ll protect him, she vowed silently, her pink irises flaring brighter for a moment. Even if he never knows what I am, even if he’d hate me if he did, I’ll protect him.

But as the robotic baby’s final words echoed in her mind once more, a chilling realization settled over her: What if I’m not the devil it was talking about? What if there’s something worse out there? Ava’s fingers trembled as she clung to the edge of the table, her glowing eyes casting faint, flickering light across the floor.

Kite’s pulse raced, his mind scrambling to piece together the cryptic, unsettling words that had come from the robotic baby. “Tragedy and death shadow your path…” “Your bloodline is a thread woven across countless universes…” And then, the warning. The terrifying warning that felt as though it were meant specifically for him “Beware of the devil, hiding in human skin.”

The words clung to him, suffocating, gnawing at his thoughts like a swarm of insects. He could feel his heartbeat pounding in his ears, growing louder, more insistent. The room, the faint hum of the machines, even the soft murmur of Lira humming as she adjusted the robotic baby, it all faded into the background, as if it no longer mattered. His eyes locked onto the cradle, and for a brief, breathless moment, everything fell away. He needed to get out. He needed to find Rad. Now.

With a sudden, sharp motion, Kite grabbed the cradle, the smooth, cold metal of the baby’s delicate frame pressing against his hands. It felt so fragile, so lifeless, and yet the words it had spoken lingered, seeming to pulse in the air around him. His grip tightened on the cradle as he began to move, the baby’s soft cooing filling the space, but it did nothing to ease his rising panic.

“Rad,” Kite muttered to himself, his voice strained, barely more than a rasp. He moved quickly, his feet pounding against the cold tile of the classroom floor. His breath was shallow, his mind spinning as he hurried toward the exit. Find Rad. Talk to him. Figure out what is going on. The corridors of the school stretched before him, too long and too silent, as if the walls themselves were pressing in on him. His thoughts were a tangle of confusion, fear, and the gnawing sensation that something had shifted.

Kite’s heart thundered in his chest, each beat heavy with the weight of the robotic baby’s cryptic words, a chilling echo that refused to fade. His breath was shallow as he clutched the cradle tightly, almost as if the baby itself were grounding him, keeping him tethered to some semblance of reality. His fingers trembled, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop, couldn’t let go. The words “Beware of the devil, hiding in human skin” still rang in his ears, their meaning slippery, elusive, and yet unmistakably ominous. Every step he took out of the classroom felt like moving deeper into a nightmare he wasn’t sure he could escape.

His schoolmates continued their day as if nothing had changed, lost in their own worlds, unaware of the unsettling shift that had overtaken him. The muffled sound of voices, the rustling of papers, and the soft hum of fluorescent lights seemed to fade into a dull, distant noise as Kite walked down the rundown school hallway, his footsteps echoing in the vacant spaces. His mind raced, trying to piece together what the robotic baby had said, trying to make sense of it all. "My name is Kite... not Henry." He repeated it to himself, as though hearing it again might make it truer. But the baby’s words weighed him down, relentless, seeping into his thoughts like poison.

As he passed a window, the blur of the outside world caught his eye. There, sitting alone on a bench just beyond the glass, was Rad. The stark contrast of the gray, dreary playground and the figure slouched on the bench made Kite pause, his mind flickering back to their earlier interaction. Rad, whose attitude had always been abrasive, had been strangely quiet today. The strange discomfort Kite had noticed in him earlier seemed to have dissolved into something more palpable, an emptiness.

Kite blinked, his eyes narrowing as he watched Rad for a moment, the weight of the cradle making his arms ache. “What’s he doing out there?” The thought flashed through his mind, filled with a strange mix of curiosity and hesitation. The sight of Rad sitting so still, removed from the usual chaos of school life, was jarring. It was as if the world outside was moving in a different rhythm, and Rad was suspended in a moment of his own.

Kite took a deep breath, his chest tight as the remnants of panic clung to him. He had to focus, had to find some sort of grounding in all this. The words from the robotic baby had shattered something inside him, something he couldn’t yet put words to. His pulse quickened as he walked toward the nearby door that led to the playground, the dull thud of his shoes against the floor echoing in the empty hall. The cold metal of the door handle felt strange in his hand as he turned it and pushed the door open, the chill of the outside air hitting him instantly.

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The playground was empty, save for Rad, who seemed lost in his thoughts, his eyes distant. Kite hesitated for a moment, standing on the threshold, the cradle still held tightly in his arms. He wasn’t sure what he expected by approaching Rad, but something about the boy, sitting there alone, pulled him forward. Maybe it was the strange disconnection that had enveloped both of them since the moment of the robotic baby’s cryptic warning. Maybe it was the need for something familiar, even if it was just Rad’s silent presence.

Kite's footsteps grew louder as he walked toward the bench, the gravel crunching beneath his shoes, each sound amplifying the thick, eerie silence that hung around him. The cradle in his arms felt like an anchor, its weight a constant reminder of the strange, unsettling presence it held. His fingers gripped the edges of the metal frame, white-knuckled, as if holding onto something far more fragile than a machine.

As he approached Rad, the playground stretched out in all its neglected, gray glory, rusted swings hanging idly, slides Coated in a layer of dust, and the broken remnants of a basketball hoop swaying in the wind. The air felt heavy, thick with unspoken tension, as if the entire world outside had conspired to mute itself in the face of whatever had been unleashed in that classroom.

Rad sat slumped forward, elbows resting on his knees, his head lowered slightly as if he were lost in some deep, private thought. His messy hair hung in front of his eyes, but Kite could see the subtle tension in his posture, the way his shoulders were slightly hunched, his back rigid. There was something different about him now, something almost... fragile.

For once, Rad didn't look like the cocky, untouchable teenager he usually was. He looked vulnerable, isolated from the world in a way that made Kite's heartbeat faster, his own anxiety creeping back in. Kite stopped just short of the bench, hesitating for a moment. His thoughts were still tangled from the robotic baby's words, but there was something in Rad's stillness that made him want to speak, to break the silence that had settled between them like a heavy fog.

"Rad," Kite said, his voice low, almost hesitant. The word felt foreign on his tongue. It was strange, almost like he was trying to reach through a veil that had suddenly appeared between them, a veil of unspoken truths and unasked questions. Rad didn't look up. His hands clenched into fists, his knuckles white. He wasn't looking at Kite, but Kite could feel his gaze, sharp and unreadable, from under the curtain of his hair.

"Rad.." Kite tried again, stepping closer, the cradle pressing into his chest. His throat felt dry, and his words faltered. The robotic baby's voice still echoed in his mind, like a drumbeat he couldn't escape. "Beware of the devil, hiding in human skin."

The warning reverberated in his skull, but he pushed it aside for a moment. Rad wasn't the enemy. Whatever was happening, whatever the baby had meant, Kite needed to focus on the now.

Rad's head lifted slightly, eyes still shadowed but now trained on the ground in front of him. The faintest hint of recognition flickered in his gaze, but he remained silent. Kite could feel the weight of their silence, the space between them heavy with unspoken words. "I... don't know what to do with this," Kite said, his voice strained, unsure of what he was even talking about.

His mind was a mess, the weight of the cradle only serving to heighten his growing sense of dread. He glanced down at the metal object in his arms, his fingers twitching as if willing it to somehow explain itself. "Something's not right, Rad.’’

Rad shifted slightly, though he didn't yet face Kite fully. His lips parted, but no Words came. It was as if the world itself was waiting for Rad to respond, and when he did, his voice was barely a whisper, carried away by the wind before it even reached Kite's ears. "What did it say again?" Rad's voice cracked, just slightly, the tremor unmistakable. Kite's eyes flickered to the cradle, the robotic baby resting motionless within it. "It... It said I'm not who I think am. That I'm not Kite. I'm Henry. That my bloodline is cursed. And... and that that I'm... meant for something bigger, something... darker."

His chest tightened as the words left his mouth, the sheer weight of them almost unbearable. Rad finally turned his head, his eyes narrowing, though the discomfort on his face was clear. "What the hell are you talking about?" His voice was a little too loud, too sharp, like he was trying to shake himself free of something heavy. "Sounds like it's malfunctioning. Whatever. Forget it."

But Kite could hear the unspoken fear in Rad's voice, the cracks in his tough exterior that told a different story. This wasn't just about malfunctioning tech or some broken machine. Something was happening, something that neither of them could ignore.

Something that was pulling them both into something much bigger than either of them. The air seemed to grow colder, heavier. The quiet hum of the playground felt distorted now, the rustling of withered trees in the wind echoing in Kite's ears like a warning. He stepped closer to Rad, his pulse quickening as the words the robotic baby had spoken began to crawl under his skin, gnawing at him. Kite’s voice wavered as he stepped closer. "Rad... this isn’t just a glitch. That thing... it wasn’t malfunctioning. It knew things about us. It knew me. And it said-" he choked on the words, the fear threatening to overwhelm him. "It said I’m not Kite. It said I’m Henry Cooper."

Rad remained silent, his eyes fixed somewhere beyond Kite, looking distant and detached. His fingers twitched, but he didn't move, still sitting on the bench as if anchored to the ground. Kite could feel the weight of Rad's stare, even though he wasn’t looking at him directly. It was as though Rad was trying to shut out everything, the world, the warning, even Kite himself.

Rad’s reaction was delayed, but Kite could see it, the flicker in his eyes, the quick intake of breath, the subtle change in his posture. For a brief second, Rad seemed almost human again, not the untouchable, cocky persona he always wore, but someone vulnerable, someone who might actually be scared. But then it was gone, buried beneath layers of bravado.

"Henry Cooper?" Rad repeated, as if trying the name on for size, as if tasting it in the air. "Who's that?" Kite didn't have an answer. His chest ached, a knot of confusion and fear tightening inside him. don't know" he whispered, his breath shaky. "But think... think it's me." The playground around them seemed to close in as Rad processed what Kite had just said.

The air grew even heavier, thick with the weight of what was left unsaid. Neither of them knew what to make of the cryptic warning or the strange implications that lingered in the space between them.

The playground felt almost suffocating now, the heavy air thick with tension, as if the entire world had grown still around them. Kite could feel the weight of the cradle pressing into his chest, its metal frame cold and unyielding against his skin. His fingers gripped it tighter, knuckles white, his mind spiraling in a vortex of confusion and fear.

"Henry Cooper." Rad repeated, the words foreign on his tongue. His lips curled slightly, and there was a brief flash of disbelief, before he shrugged and leaned back on the bench. "Man, you’ve lost it. Whatever that thing said… it's all just static, like some bad software glitch or something. That’s not you." His voice was too loud now, too brash, as if he was trying to cover something up, to shake off the unease that had clearly taken root in him.

Kite wasn’t convinced. The words from the baby still hung in the air like a dark omen, and something in Rad’s reaction didn’t sit right with him. The unease in Rad’s voice, the subtle tremor in his hands, told a different story. Kite stepped closer, closer than he ever had before. The air between them thickened with a sense of unspoken understanding, a sense that something was unraveling.

"I don’t know, Rad," Kite said, his voice shaking with a mix of frustration and fear. Rad didn’t reply, but his gaze shifted, distant, like he was piecing together something Kite couldn’t see. For a moment, everything was quiet. The rustle of dry leaves, the faint sound of distant traffic, the creak of the swings all faded into the background as Rad stared at the cradle in Kite’s arms.

The playground felt colder now, the eerie silence amplified by the distant creak of the rusted swings and the soft whisper of the wind through the broken basketball hoop. Kite’s grip on the cradle tightened as he stood a few feet from Rad, who remained seated on the bench, his head bowed, and his fists clenched. The robotic baby’s voice still echoed in Kite’s mind, its cryptic words wrapping around his thoughts like chains.

Rad’s silence only made the weight of those words heavier. Kite couldn’t ignore them any longer. He had to bring it up.

“Rad…” Kite started, hesitating as he searched for the right way to broach the subject. His voice trembled slightly, betraying his nerves. “Back in the classroom… when the baby spoke. It said something… about you.”

Rad’s head didn’t move, but his fists tightened, the knuckles white against the pale light filtering through the clouds. Kite noticed, but he pressed on, driven by the nagging unease that had been clawing at him since they’d left.

“It said it didn’t have any data on you,” Kite continued, his voice low and cautious. “Like… you weren’t in its system or something.”

Rad let out a short, humorless laugh, finally lifting his head to glance at Kite, though his eyes didn’t fully meet his. “Yeah? So what? That thing’s just a hunk of junk. Probably malfunctioning like I said. What does it even matter?”

“It matters, Rad,” Kite said, stepping closer, his voice growing firmer. “It said you’d leave no lasting impact. And... it even said-” Kite faltered, swallowing hard as the memory of the baby’s cooing voice replayed in his mind. “It said that you were an anomaly’’

Rad’s expression froze, his jaw tightening as his eyes flicked up to meet Kite’s for the first time. There was something unreadable in his gaze, a mix of defiance and something else, something deeper, more vulnerable.

“Don’t,” Rad said sharply, his voice low but carrying an edge that cut through the tension like a knife. “Don’t start with that crap, Kite. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“How can you say that?” Kite pressed, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “It knew things, Rad. About me. About whom I might be. And it said-”

“I said drop it!” Rad snapped, his voice rising as he stood abruptly, the bench creaking under the sudden shift in weight. His hands balled into fists at his sides, and he took a step toward Kite, his presence towering but shaky. “You’re letting this stupid thing get in your head. It’s a robot, Kite. Just some creepy tech made to mess with us. That’s all.”

“But what if it’s not?” Kite shot back, his voice equally loud now, his fear and confusion fueling his defiance. “What if it’s telling the truth? What if it knows something we don’t? Rad, it said you wouldn’t leave any lasting impact. What if that means-”

“Stop!” Rad roared, his voice cracking as he shoved past Kite, pacing a few steps away. He raked a hand through his messy hair, tugging at it in frustration as he turned back, his eyes wild with a mixture of anger and fear. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, alright? That thing doesn’t know me. It doesn’t know anything about me!”

Kite stood his ground, his heart pounding in his chest. “Rad, I’m just trying to-” “You’re trying to what?” Rad interrupted, his voice venomous. “Save me? Fix me? I don’t need your pity, Kite. I’m fine. I’m not some… some name in a data bank, okay? I’m here. I’m real. And I don’t need a damn robot to tell me whether I matter or not.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Kite stared at Rad, his chest heaving as he struggled to process the sudden outburst. But he could see it now, beneath the anger, beneath the bravado, Rad was scared.

“Rad…” Kite said softly, his voice barely audible. “I’m not saying it’s right. But don’t you think we should at least try to understand what it meant?”

Rad turned away, his shoulders trembling as he clenched his fists tighter. “There’s nothing to understand,” he muttered, his voice thick with barely restrained emotion. “I don’t care what it said. I don’t care.”

Kite hesitated, the weight of the moment pressing down on him. He wanted to push further, to make Rad see that this wasn’t something they could ignore. But the way Rad’s voice broke, the way his shoulders slumped, stopped him.

Rad turned back slightly, his face a mask of defiance, though his eyes betrayed him. They were glassy, filled with a mixture of anger, fear, and something Kite couldn’t quite place. “Just… drop it, okay?” Rad said, his voice quieter now, almost pleading. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

Kite nodded slowly, the fight leaving him as he realized he wouldn’t get through to Rad, not now, at least. The robotic baby’s words still lingered in the back of his mind, a chilling echo that refused to fade. But for now, he let it go, stepping back as Rad turned away again, his figure silhouetted against the decaying playground.

The tension between them remained, unspoken but palpable, as the wind picked up, carrying with it the faint creak of the swings and the rustle of dry leaves. Kite glanced down at the cradle in his arms, its weight heavier than ever.