Chapter Text
June 15 1989: San Jose California, State Genetics Lab
The lab was sterile, bathed in an eerie white glow that reflected off the chrome surfaces of intricate machinery. The hum of advanced equipment filled the air as a team of scientists moved with precision, their faces concealed behind masks. This was no ordinary hospital, and this was no ordinary birth.
In the center of the room, a state-of-the-art birthing pod was surrounded by monitors, cables, and robotic arms that moved with unsettling grace. The pod was a marvel of technology, designed not just to deliver life but to reshape it. Inside, a fragile human fetus floated in amniotic fluid infused with nanites—microscopic machines programmed to rebuild and enhance.
The lead scientist, Dr. Livia Aylin, watched the monitors with a mixture of awe and determination. This was her life's work: a project that would redefine what it meant to be human. The child within the pod was special—conceived naturally but destined to become something greater. From the moment of her conception, she had been chosen for transformation. Her DNA had been mapped, optimized, and merged with cutting-edge cybernetic systems.
“She’s stabilizing.” one of the assistants reported, their voice barely audible over the hum of machinery.
“Good.” Dr. Aylin replied, her tone clinical. “Initiate Phase Three. Integrate the core.”
One of the robotic arms extended into the pod, carrying a small, glowing device—a miniature power core, no larger than a fist. The core pulsed with a steady rhythm, almost like a heartbeat, its energy calibrated to sustain life while powering the enhancements that would make this child more than human. The core was carefully implanted into the fetus, fusing seamlessly with her developing body.
The monitors flickered as the integration began. The child’s tiny body twitched, responding to the nanites as they connected her organic tissue to the core. Her lungs, deemed inefficient, were replaced with an advanced oxygen-processing system that required no air to function. Her heart, while still present, became secondary to the core’s energy flow. Her bones were reinforced with a lightweight alloy, and neural pathways were augmented to allow for faster processing and reflexes.
“She’s perfect.” Dr. Aylin murmured, her voice betraying a rare hint of emotion. “A bridge between humanity and the future.”
As the child’s enhancements stabilized, the pod began its final phase, preparing for her birth. The amniotic fluid drained, and the robotic arms carefully lifted the newborn from the pod. Her skin was pale, her body small but unmistakably different. Beneath her fragile appearance lay the foundation of a machine.
Dr. Aylin approached, her gloved hands reaching out to cradle the child. The baby didn’t cry as expected. Instead, her eyes fluttered open, revealing irises that gleamed faintly with an unnatural light. She stared at Dr. Aylin with an intensity that no newborn should possess, as if she already understood the world around her.
“She doesn’t need to cry.” Dr. Aylin said softly. “She has no need for fear or weakness. She’s beyond that.”
The team recorded the moment meticulously, noting every detail of the child’s appearance and vital signs. They marked the birth not with a name but with a designation: Project 42-A. Yet Dr. Aylin refused to let her creation remain nameless.
“She’ll need a name for the world she’ll conquer.” Dr. Aylin said, her eyes never leaving the child. “We’ll call her Bayley, Bayley Martinez.”
Bayley’s early years were unlike any other. Raised within the confines of the lab, she was studied, tested, and trained from the moment she could walk. Her enhancements allowed her to learn at an accelerated rate, mastering complex tasks far beyond her physical age. Yet, despite her intelligence and abilities, she was never treated as a child.
The scientists viewed her as a prototype, a living experiment to prove the potential of their technology. She wasn’t given toys or stories but simulations and algorithms. Her body was pushed to its limits daily, her strength, speed, and endurance tested relentlessly.
But Bayley didn’t know to long for anything else. She had no concept of human life beyond what the scientists told her. She was taught that her mechanical nature made her superior to the humans around her. They tired; she didn’t. They failed; she succeeded. They aged; she would endure.
Yet, somewhere deep within her, there was a spark of something more—a lingering fragment of humanity that hadn’t been completely overwritten. She felt it in fleeting moments: a pang of curiosity when she glimpsed the world outside the lab or a faint yearning for connection when one of the scientists offered her a kind smile.
At the age of fifteen, Bayley’s training was deemed complete. The scientists decided it was time to release her into the world to observe how she would function among humans. They crafted a new identity for her: a young athlete with dreams of becoming a professional wrestler. It was the perfect cover, allowing her to test her physical capabilities without arousing suspicion.
Bayley embraced her role with determination, quickly rising through the ranks of the wrestling world. Her stamina and strength were unmatched, but she hid her true nature behind a cheerful, relatable persona. The world saw her as a hardworking underdog, a beacon of hope and resilience. No one suspected that beneath her warm smile lay the cold precision of a machine.
But even as she thrived, Bayley couldn’t shake the feeling that she didn’t belong. She kept everyone at arm’s length, fearing what they might think if they knew the truth. To the world, she was a human wrestler chasing her dreams. To herself, she was a machine, an outcast pretending to be something she could never truly be.
And so, Bayley’s journey began—not just as a wrestler but as a being caught between two worlds, struggling to find her place in a life she was never meant to lead.
As the years went on, Bayley trained and honed her abilities as a pro wrestler and eventually she signed on with the promotion known as WWE. There she would quickly become one of the company's most beloved figures, taking on the gimmick of a fan that loved pro wrestling and was living her dream.
Despite not being born a human, her artificial brain acted like a supercomputer when it came to the profession of wrestling, giving the illusion of being a lifelong fan. But still, even with the glory she had as a wrestler, she was still a machine deep down.
Somewhere in the silicone that housed her soul, she longed for something. Something so simple yet heartbreaking in nature.
All Bayley wanted was...a friend.
But she kept her head down and kept working, never asking questions, just doing her job.
Then in 2017, she would meet the one girl by chance that would be the friend she's always secretly pined for: Dakota Kai.
October 2017
It was late 2017, and Bayley found herself at the WWE Performance Center in Orlando, Florida. As one of the company’s rising stars, she often visited the facility to fine-tune her skills and mentor the next generation of wrestlers. The building was alive with energy that day—new recruits and seasoned talents alike were training, honing their craft in the shadow of greatness. For Bayley, this was just another day, another set of drills, another round of motions to keep her perfectly calibrated.
She moved through the training rings with her usual cheerful demeanor, offering advice to anyone who asked and practicing her own sequences when the opportunity arose. Yet behind her practiced smile, she felt the familiar, quiet ache. The one she had carried since the moment she entered the world. The ache for something more, someone who truly saw her. Not the persona, not the wrestler, but her.
It was then, during a break between drills, that Bayley first noticed her.
In one of the far corners of the gym, near a set of mats laid out for striking practice, a new face caught her eye. She was shorter than most of the trainees, her dark hair pulled back into a loose ponytail. There was a quiet intensity about her as she practiced a series of intricate kicks, her movements fluid and precise. The way her feet connected with the mat, the sharpness of her strikes—there was something unique about her. Something… electric.
Bayley tilted her head, watching as the girl adjusted her stance and tried again. The kicks were already flawless, but she seemed intent on improving them, even if only by the smallest margin. She moved with the kind of determination Bayley admired, the kind of drive she understood. And yet, there was also a softness in her—a vulnerability that was somehow comforting.
Bayley took a step closer, curious but hesitant. She glanced around the room, noting how the other trainees were busy with their own routines. No one else seemed to be paying attention to the girl in the corner. She was alone, working silently, absorbed in her craft.
For a moment, Bayley felt something stir deep within her—a connection she couldn’t explain. She didn’t know this girl, had never spoken to her, but somehow, she felt drawn to her. Perhaps it was the loneliness she saw reflected in her movements, the way she seemed to be chasing perfection not for applause but for herself. It was a loneliness Bayley understood all too well.
“Who’s that?” she found herself asking one of the coaches as they passed by.
The coach glanced over to where Bayley was looking. “Oh, that’s Dakota Kai. She just started here a few weeks ago. Comes from New Zealand. Good kid, quiet, but she’s got talent. A real student of the game.”
“Dakota Kai,” Bayley repeated, the name lingering on her lips. It sounded… warm, somehow. Familiar, even though it wasn’t. She nodded, thanking the coach, and returned her gaze to the girl.
As she watched Dakota train, Bayley felt something she hadn’t felt in years. Not since she first set foot in a wrestling ring and found her purpose. It was hope. Hope that maybe, just maybe, this girl could be the friend she’d always longed for. Someone who wouldn’t see her as just a wrestler or a machine, but as Bayley.
She took a deep breath, steeling herself. For a machine built to be perfect, to calculate every move with precision, this next step felt impossibly uncertain. And yet, she took it anyway. Bayley started walking toward Dakota, her heart—or the core that served as its replacement—pounding with anticipation.
As Dakota continued her work, showing off her mastery of various drills to the coaches, pouring water down her shirt to keep herself cool, she heard soft footsteps. She looked up, and saw her, brown eyes meeting brown (though the latter brown was special contact lenses to give Bayley a more human appearance) as the Kiwi gave her a friendly smile. "Hey there mate, I'm Cheree Crowley, or Dakota Kai here in the WWE world. I've seen your work. Former NXT Women's Champion and Raw Women's Champion. Bayley right?" She asked, her Kiwi accent warm, friendly and inviting.
Bayley stopped in her tracks as Dakota looked up at her, offering a warm, genuine smile that made her heart—a construct of circuits and silicone—flutter. The warmth in Dakota's voice caught Bayley off guard, and for a split second, she almost forgot to speak. But then, her programming kicked in, and she smoothly smiled back, her carefully crafted persona coming to the forefront.
"Yeah, that's me," Bayley said, her voice steady but carrying a slight hint of excitement she hadn’t expected. "Bayley Martinez. I’m from San Jose, California." Her eyes met Dakota's, and she made sure to give the perfect, friendly smile, the kind that had made her a fan favorite for years. She wasn’t lying, of course—her memories, though artificial, were based on the persona she’d crafted for herself in the wrestling world. She'd long ago perfected the art of human interaction, masking the machine that lay beneath.
"I’ve seen your work too, Dakota," Bayley continued, a flicker of admiration in her tone. "You’ve got an impressive style. I’ve been following your rise in NXT and now here in WWE. You’ve got the kind of drive I respect." Bayley couldn't help but feel a small spark of pride as she complimented her. There was something in Dakota's movements—the precision, the dedication—that made Bayley instinctively respect her. She was raw, real, and driven, all qualities Bayley admired.
Dakota let out a small chuckle at the mention of her rise, wiping some sweat from her brow. "Cheers, mate, appreciate that. Been working my butt off for years to get here. It’s a wild ride, but I wouldn't have it any other way." She took a breath and then looked Bayley over. "But I gotta say, I didn’t expect to meet you here today. You’re a legend, Bayley. You’ve lived out the dream a lot of us are working towards. Must feel good to be a champion in WWE, huh?"
Bayley’s smile didn’t falter, but she felt an odd sense of longing creep in—longing for something simpler, something less mechanical. "It’s a dream, yeah. But..." she paused, then quickly added, "It’s a lot of work too. Every day’s a new challenge, and that’s what I love about it. Keeps me on my toes."
Dakota’s eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as she nodded, clearly in agreement. "Totally, I hear you. Every day is a chance to be better, to push yourself further. But it’s also tough, right? Long hours, no time to really relax. Makes you appreciate the wins when they come."
Bayley could feel her synthetic brain processing the words, but something about Dakota’s genuine tone made her feel something deeper than she had in a long time. For the first time in what felt like forever, Bayley was speaking to someone who seemed to understand the grind, the pressure, and the sacrifices that came with their shared profession. The difference? Dakota wasn’t just a colleague. There was something in the way she carried herself—something that felt real in a way Bayley didn’t quite understand.
"You’re right," Bayley said, her voice softening. "It’s all about the journey, I guess. And you... You seem like you get that. I’ve been at this for a while, but there’s always something new to learn."
Dakota tilted her head slightly, narrowing her eyes in a playful yet thoughtful way. "Sounds like you’ve been doing this for ages. Maybe I can learn a thing or two from you, huh?"
Bayley chuckled, the sound warm and easy. "I think we could both teach each other a few tricks."
There was a moment of silence between them, where both women stood there, looking at each other. Bayley could feel it—a quiet, subtle connection forming. For a machine who had never known true friendship, who had only been trained to interact in the most efficient and productive ways, this felt... different. Dakota’s warmth and openness were like a beacon, drawing Bayley in, and despite her cautious nature, Bayley found herself wanting to get closer, to share something beyond just the wrestling ring.
Bayley cleared her throat, her expression softening even further. "Hey, listen… If you ever need someone to train with, or just someone to talk to, I’m around. I know it can get... lonely, out here, you know?" She hesitated for a split second, but the words came out anyway, her artificial brain pulling from the data of countless human interactions and emotions she had observed.
Dakota’s smile widened, and she stepped forward, offering Bayley a friendly slap on the shoulder. "Thanks, Bayley. I’d really like that. Feels like we’re both in the same boat, right? A bunch of crazy fans who just happen to be really good at beating the crap out of each other for a living." She grinned, her Kiwi accent making the words feel even more genuine.
Bayley laughed softly, the sound coming easier now. "Yeah, you could say that. You’re right though. It’s crazy sometimes. But it’s worth it." She looked down for a moment, as if gathering her thoughts, and then met Dakota's gaze again, something more vulnerable flickering in her eyes. "I think... I think we could be good friends."
For a moment, Dakota didn’t say anything, just standing there with that same friendly smile. And then, finally, she nodded. "I’d like that too. It’s not often you meet someone who gets it. I think we could have a lot of fun together."
And just like that, a tiny, unspoken promise passed between them. A bond was forming—one rooted not in titles or accolades, but in something simpler, more profound: mutual understanding. For Bayley, it felt like a door had just cracked open—one she had never expected to walk through.
As they continued to talk, something inside Bayley began to shift, a feeling she hadn’t known she was missing. In the presence of Dakota Kai, for the first time, she felt a small part of her humanity stir.
"You're from New Zealand right? What's it like there?" Bayley asked. Although her circuitry and data already told her all about Dakota's homeland, she wanted to hear it from this acquaintance of hers.