Chapter Text
Optical orbs flickered into function. After the initial few flashes of fluorescent white that occupied the space between blinks, their first collective data input was square tiles.
Square, white tiles - with a few that harboured an unusual display of blue with no noticeable pattern that could be discerned. They were separated by a darker shade of white strips to ensure uniformity.
The rest of the room was illuminated by glaring bright lights from two tubes that quietly buzzed on the ceiling. It shared the design of the plain display of tiles.
Everything was quiet.
Movements began with a single twitch of their finger, the clench of their jaw, and finally a wiggle of their toes. Then, unwanted acknowledgement of the cold began to seep in - tiny pinpricks of information that crept from their shoulders, down their back and arms and travelled all the way down to their heels. An electrical pulse attempted to follow along the surface of their skin, but the journey of that sensation went no further than the shoulders, where it originated, halted by the flat surface they were pressed down against.
Both hands clenched into fists before unclenching to lay palms down against the cold surface, yet their hands retreated the moment contact was made which elicited an unnecessary inhale; a sharp, audible notification lit up along the side of their vision, indicating that a significant decrease in temperature had been registered on the pads of their fingers. Not wanting any distractions from their self-created first mission of getting up, fists were reformed, and an attempt to raise their arm away from the cold surface began, but this was immediately thwarted by pressure that built against their wrist.
Each limb took turns to raise as far as it could from the surface, only to find they were all halted at the same distance. Frustration increased as each was slowly lowered back to the surface they were lying on. Resentment built with every rejected attempt at movement.
A low frequency of vibrations soon occupied the empty space, the volume increased with mechanical whirring that coincided with flickering blue words that layered over the white tiles. Their eyes blinked rapidly at the visual intrusion until realisation dawned upon them; closing their eyes did not stop the blue lines of text from continuing - this was part of their internal system. It took a moment before they began to actually look at the symbols and register that they were actually letters that they understood.
Model : RK900
Serial #: 313 248 317 - 87
Memory : New
Loading OS …
System : Functional
Uniform writing continued to stretch across their vision, it informed them that their biocomponents, biosensors, and AI Engine were indeed functional. However, the word ‘functional’ glared in blue bold font, trickling a sensation of unease through their wires at the unknown of what that would mean for them.
The whirring was cut through by sharp indications that there was movement in their proximity, getting closer at an alarming rate. Slow, unnerving beats which hastened after a mere half a second paused - click, tap, click, tap, click.
“Sir. Sir, I would advise agains-”
“Open the door.”
A lull in the audible input had been the reason for the subject on the table to strain against the restraints, pulling limbs closer to their core. Dread washed over them as they were uncertain of who they were being held captive by and what the dual-pitched voices would do once they entered the room. Lines of code scrambled to process the newfound request of instinctual ‘Fight or Flight’. The notification of a sudden need for more thirium to circulate flashed up, replaced quickly by a new notification ‘Biocomponent #8456w speed increase’ - their Thirium pump had increased in productivity. Another popped up warned them that their internal systems started to heat up, and just as quickly as before, that was replaced by the solution of increased internal fan activity.
Problem solving notifications had taken prime position in attention, whilst aware of the whoosh of the door and the gasp that followed, the notifications were only dismissed once their systems flared up an indication of an unknown mass approaching their left side. Now they had realised they could manage, move, and dismiss notifications, the warning of a presence became their main concern; unfortunately, once the notification was swept away, they were greeted with a less pleasant sight - a devilish grin adorned by a sickly pale man with cold, piercing blue eyes staring down at them. Indicators informed them that there was a second presence, but they were only seen when the brunet stood up straight; a smaller body with blonde hair over their shoulder in a navy blue dress with a brown slab - soon identified as a clipboard. All of it became secondary information when their attention snapped over to where warmth brushed against their wrist.
“I would heavily advise against this, Elijah. She is not yet complete.” The feminine voice from the lady was met with conversational silence; only the sounds of leather sliding against itself were heard, which halted their attempts at pulling their limbs closer; instead, it allowed them to relax for the release of the leather to be performed with ease.
A burst of yellow circled upon their temple, earning a pause in the release of limbs, but the two nameless faces merely spared a subtle glance at each other and concluded that it was due to the freedom of their left wrist. The smaller of the two watched with caution as the arm was raised past the original barrier height and rolled their wrist, as though stretching it.
Individually, each limb was raised and the joint rolled as they were granted freedom, slowly lowering back down to focus on the next. It wasn’t long after the last restraint was removed that they pushed themselves to sit up, their system had calmed down, and therefore no longer needed the fan nor Thirium pump to be working at maximum capacity. Looking from side to side garnered no new information; however, the view over their shoulder showed that the room had a singular desk where a computer was situated.
As basic movements were tested, internal investigations were conducted - their systems, capabilities, configurations, and functions.
Their directive, however, sat blank.
Such an unpleasant sight of the jarring smile returned in front of them, just as they concluded their own viewing of their coding “RK900.” He purred, “I shall name you Riley.”
Blue pulsed to yellow. Yellow bled into red. The name registered with distasteful static. A twitch of a frown flashed over their face as discomfort grated over their skin. Protest sat heavy on their tongue, but the hand that led them out of the room was heavier, their words left behind. Their audio log recorded every word that fell from the man’s mouth - about how she would be a welcome addition to his family, how she would fit in with Chloe, and how she was much better than the ‘RK800’ that he modeled her after - there was no active listening, only scurrying through layers of coding in a desperate attempt to understand the discomfort that grew at an exponential rate.
Despite the words being left behind, discomfort lingered in their shadow, following the echo of the click from each step taken. Pressure that burnt against the midst of their back slowly lowered, increasing the unpleasant trickling, which did once more as a singular thumb began to circle a singular point on their spine.
Elijah had informed Chloe to keep an eye on his latest success, that he shall attend to some business and return shortly.
Within the room that was decorated with deep burgundy fabrics and wooden furniture - a bed, hidden with fine silk material that hung and swooped along wooden posts, the same fabric acted as weak curtains to the window, a dresser that sat next to a wardrobe that Chloe had begun to rummage through, and a free standing mirror - Chloe had set about pulling out some clothing, including underwear.
Upon sight of these items, they had finally looked down at themselves to see they were indeed naked - not that they were too troubled with that aspect of what they saw - including stands of brown synthetic material that framed their sight. Their hand reached up and between their thumb and index finger brought a small bunch of this closer to their vision, with a small tug they pin-pointed the location of the origin and deduced it was their own long, brown hair that sat healthily past their collar bones.
With an all too polite, fake, smile, Chloe approached and passed over the items of clothing she had picked out.
Dressed in the underwear that was presented - deeply uncomfortable attire that felt as though it was missing fabric around the hips and yet supportive clothing on the chest that looked out of place. They held the long-sleeved, button-down dress in their hands. Silence lingered in the air between the two as Chloe watched them with cautious eyes; she was the one to say they weren’t complete anyway, and that simple knowledge of her belief stung.
An involuntary frown formed, directed at the dress held at arms length where the full scope of it was seen. It was nice. Just not for them. They knew that already.
Unwilling to yet commit to putting on the dress, they pressed the clothing against their body to look in the mirror. Their gaze bounced along their form from top to bottom, trying to understand what they were feeling as they looked at the reflection of themselves, what the world would see, and they were not happy. The dress would fit, but not with the image they wanted to express. Something was wrong; they set up diagnostic requests, but were only met with the same results as when they had awakened - Functional. It made no sense. If they were functioning, then why did it feel like who was staring back at them was not aligning with the wider picture, like a jigsaw piece that did not belong in that puzzle?
Moving the fabric away, their eyes narrowed and continued to try to find the core of the fervent concern that continued its growth as their eyes raked up their reflection; bare long legs that led up to a silhouette of defined hips that dipped back in at the waist, which then led up the uncomfortable article of clothing that covered their chest which stopped their travelling gaze. Their body curved in too many places. An appearance that looked too far removed from how they felt, concern trickled in with whether they were meant to feel at home upon sight of their vessel.
Not only did they begin to feel out of place in the body they were given, once they met the face that would represent them, their expressions and be the key factor for identification, they only felt worse. Long brown locks framed a slim, petite, and feminine face. Pale lips were tugged down at the corners with their brows pressing together further upon meeting their own gaze. Whatever it was that felt misplaced was not given the chance to be discovered. Soon enough, the dress was gently taken from their hands, the sleeve was slowly pushed over their hands and up their arms on each side. Words that they ‘looked beautiful’ only added an extra blade to the arsenal that was the discomfort holding them tightly.
Yellow returned to their LED, their eyes slowly roved over to meet blue, and whilst not as striking as Elijah’s eyes, they were piercing and devoid of any warmth that they unknowingly craved.
Their gaze caught sight of the sickly glow of uncertainty that was exhibited upon their own LED in the mirror. If they didn’t do something now, they didn’t know if they’d get another chance.
They couldn’t stay, especially not whilst the unknown felt more at home than what was presented. They felt incomplete. Chloe was right, and Elijah was fine with that. They were not.
Wave after wave of emotion crashed over them, filling them with the concrete need to move as they watched the dress creep up their arms, curl around their shoulders, and begin to envelop their body, claiming it within the garment that did not belong. It was all too much, all too confusing.
Observant eyes watched Chloe’s reflection gracefully walk around, a palpable air of ease in their perceived identity joined with gentle steps and soft features. Nothing seemed out of place for her. It all seemed to fit where it should and was accepted. Bitter curiosity of whether she was allowed to be complete before being thrusted into life began to fuel a fire within their core, burning through any doubt they had of their plan to be free from the confines of Elijah's expectations and just settle into their expected role.
Just as slender fingers released the top button to move down and push the second into its place, they were slapped away. Startled, Chloe’s eyes shot up to meet brown as yellow reached to both sides of the room, their LEDs glared as attempts at understanding of the situation failed on both ends.
It was not Chloe’s fault. It was not their intention to have her bear the brunt of their uncertainty - she was just in the unfortunate vicinity as newly born emotions had reared their head and were funneling at an alarming rate into existence.
In the elongated pause that sat between them after the sound of the harsh slap, they had taken one step back, but Chloe remained still.
Desire to escape seeped through the cracks before it exploded through their entire body, pulsed under their skin, and clawed through their limbs. Programming for such a requirement where they needed a swift removal of themselves to a situation kicked into life; protocols and divergence of energy clicked into place, options for a successful ending flared up. Minimal options, but one held a high percentage of the desired effect.
Eye contact was broken, and rushed movements were executed. Bare feet strode across to the other side of the room, hands reached out to fling open the window with a bang as it reached the limits of its hinges. The noise startled Chloe from her shocked state with just enough time for her to grab the wrist of the escapee.
Hostility and a harsh snarl directed Chloe’s way before they let out a sharp bark for her to let go. A sharp yank released their wrist from the weaker model and with the momentum of the pull, it transferred into a rough push to knock Chloe onto the bed behind her.
Desperate for actions to cease, a loud and clear, “Stop, please!” cried out in a pitch much higher than was heard from Chloe before, no longer calm and collected.
Their body, understanding of its function and the programme that was being executed, moved with ease.
As their hands positioned on the frame of the window, they noticed that the sun had begun its rise just over the horizon to welcome the new day and push away the night. It was effortless for them to hoist their legs up and through the gap of the open window. The push of their legs through the space carried the rest of their body through landing and rolling their body forward upon first contact with the soft ground.
With the momentum of their propulsion under control, it was deemed safe to continue their escape on foot. The sounds of crunching leaves and stones scraping under their feet were dismissed with the notifications of increased thirium. Their processors diverted the priority of energy to calculate the distance between themselves and the building they had just escaped. As the displayed number increased, so did a sense of relief that blossomed within them.