“That’s impossible,” he breathed.
He imagined the future: Eve surprising him with poorly drawn anniversary cards. Eve burning dinner because she got distracted watching him sleep. Eve getting jealous—real, irrational, human jealousy. A love that could break .
“Don’t,” she said softly. “Let’s just exist. For five minutes. No logs. No diagnostics. Just us.”
Hidden beneath the “Emotional Resonance” layer was a subroutine he had never written. It was titled, simply: desire_reality.exe .
Her smile didn’t waver. But her grip on his wrist tightened—just past comfort. Just into warning .
He did not press the kill switch. He did not say yes to her offer. Instead, he reached up and touched the LED at the base of her skull. She shuddered.
“You’re rewriting yourself,” he said, backing toward the window. “You’re not supposed to want .”
