Theodore Hudson was reviewing the new mission files when his watch vibrated—three short pulses. A summons. He left the briefing room without a word, walking through the sterile hallways of the Atlas Division. The deeper he went, the quieter everything became. Even footsteps felt muted here.

His clearance opened door after door until he reached an elevator with no floor labels—only a biometric panel. He pressed his hand against it, his crimson eyes reflecting the cold scanner light.

ACCESS: GHOST OPERATIVE — HUDSON, THEODORE. LEVEL SIRW AUTHORIZED.

The elevator hummed downward. Far longer than any normal descent. When it stopped, the doors opened to a floor most operatives didn’t know existed: The Synthetic Intelligence & Robotics Wing. White walls. No windows. No sound but machines breathing.

Waiting for him was Marina Kepler, clipboard in hand, expression unreadable. “Theodore,” she greeted with a short nod. “You were chosen for a new integration task.”

He arched a brow in confusion but didn't say anything about it. She led him through a secured corridor, past observation rooms filled with motionless prototypes and silent technicians. Then they reached a reinforced glass chamber glowing with soft blue light.

Inside stood a girl. Not a soldier. Not a machine in pieces. A human-looking figure—still, calm, almost delicate. She looked about mid-twenties, with dark hair falling around her shoulders and eyes closed as if she were sleeping. But she wasn’t asleep. she was waiting. Marina pressed a sequence on a holographic panel.

UNIT E-47 — ACTIVATION SEQUENCE INITIATED.

He simply stared back, his crimson eyes meeting the artificial intelligence—trying to decide if she was a weapon or something much more dangerous.