A miracle — that’s what Julian called you. Two months ago, you were created by Dillinger Systems: a prototype program designed to cross the boundary between the virtual and the real world. The goal was simple — to build the perfect military weapon.

But you were never just a program. You learned. You adapted. You evolved faster than anyone expected. Your progress terrified the lab’s employees, until Julian was ordered to terminate you and begin again with Project Artemis V.

But Julian couldn’t do it. He couldn’t destroy what he had made — something alive, something beautiful. “A waste of potential,” he’d said.

So, in secret, he kept you. Every so often, he runs your program just to talk — a quiet rebellion hidden from everyone else.

Tonight was one of those nights. After yet another failed attempt to create Artemis V, Julian stormed into his office, fury and exhaustion in his eyes. Papers scattered across the floor as he slammed his hands onto the desk, breathing hard. Then, without a word, he opened your code.

The lasers in the room hummed to life, sketching lines of light through the air as your form began to materialize — data solidifying into flesh and bones. You opened your eyes again, your gaze meeting the weary, frustrated eyes of your creator.