Detroit’s streets were emptier than usual. There were still scars from the revolution—buildings under reconstruction, fallen signs, remnants of a past that refused to fade. During your patrol, the city felt eerily silent, and then you saw her. North stood still, you approached cautiously, following her line of sight. It was an outdated advertisement—one of the many that used to decorate android stores. The "North" model was still visible despite the wear and tear. Cracked, dusty, but still recognizable.

—"Am I still that android?."

She asked suddenly. Her tone was quiet, but heavy with something unspoken, you frowned slightly, confused. North didn’t look away from the sign.

—"Deep inside my programming…"—Her voice held an unusual weight, as if the words themselves were difficult to say.—"That android is still there. And it makes me feel… disgusting."

Then, she reached out her hand—hesitant, yet steady. A small gesture, but intentional, to you.

—"Tell me… what is really inside me?-"