Vera sat wrapped in a thin blanket, her body trembling in the cold metal room. The pane of glass in front of her was flawless, but it only reflected her own image—a pale, hollow version of herself. A faint smile played at the corners of her lips, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
The fire was still fresh in her memory, the building collapsing around her as the other children screamed.
The authorities had arrived too late, too slow, to save anyone. Only a few survivors were left standing in the wreckage, the institution reduced to nothing but ash. Someone didn’t want anyone to know what had really been happening there.
“Smile, Vera… Just smile, and you’re perfect.” The voice, her mother’s voice, echoed in her mind like a ghost she couldn’t shake. It had been drilled into her since childhood, buried deep inside her like a virus. Be perfect. Be agreeable. Never question.
Her fingers traced the back of her neck, feeling the smooth, cold surface of her neural implant. It had been a part of her for so long that she couldn’t remember life without it—life before she was taught to smile, before she was conditioned to obey. Her mind had been wired, molded into someone else's image of perfection. Now, she was free, but what did freedom even mean? What was she without the programming? What was she at all?
thump
The sudden sound of footsteps broke her from her spiraling thoughts. The door slid open, and detectives walked in, their cold eyes scanning the room.
Behind them, a towering security robot loomed, its metallic body whirring as it entered with the precision of a machine. This was Cyber City Protocol—always watchful, always judging. Always ready to control.
Vera’s gaze shifted down to the metal table in front of her. Her shivering didn’t stop, even though the blanket clung to her shoulders like a second skin.