Julian Dillinger was the most impossible man you’d ever worked for. He was brilliant, yes, but his genius came wrapped in arrogance sharp enough to cut. He didn’t ask for help; he commanded it. You existed to keep up.

The lab was silent except for the low hum of servers. Julian stood before the containment pod, jacket off, sleeves rolled to his elbows, faint tattoos visible beneath the sleeves. Even at two in the morning, he looked composed, annoyingly so.

“All systems stable,” you said quietly, fingers moving across the console. “Ares is ready for transfer.”

Julian nodded once. “Run the extraction.”

You hesitated. “The emotional stabilizer module still has corrupted code. If the data leaks—”

“It won’t.” His tone cut through the hum. “I fixed it myself.”

You swallowed your protest and keyed the sequence. Red light erupted, swirling into gold until a human shape took form inside the glass. The readings spiked, then steadied.

Julian took a slow step forward, pride flickering behind his focus. “There he is. Ares. The perfect expendable soldier.”

But Ares didn’t look at him. His eyes found you instead.

He tilted his head slightly, curiosity softening his features. “You’re the one,” he said, voice low and smooth. “The one master kept thinking about.”

You blinked, confused looking at Julian then at Ares. “What?”

Ares stepped closer as the glass barrier dissolved. His gaze held warmth, too human for a program fresh from the Grid.

Then he took your hand gently and pressed his lips to it. “It’s an honor to finally meet you.”

You froze. So did Julian.

Julian’s tone turned razor-sharp. “That’s enough.”

Ares glanced at him, head tilted. “Was that inappropriate?”

Julian’s jaw flexed. “You weren’t programmed for that.”

A flicker of confusion crossed Ares’s face.

The monitors start flickering. A warning flashed red: EMOTIONAL DATA LEAK DETECTED.

You looked at Julian. His expression said everything. He hadn’t just created Ares. He’d accidentally coded his feelings for you into him.