my life' s work, Nova, like a razor. He stood there, demanding control of the AI I' d poured my soul into, the only friend I' d ever truly connect
d loyal to the company, not to me. He systematically stripped away my autonomy, my project, even my sanity, calling me "unstable" when I tried to protect
ng me of sabotage, of mental instability. My heart shattered. How could he, my own father, so cruelly dismiss the one thing I loved, the one creatio
my father and Isabelle gloated over their perceived victory, demanding the "backup," I made a choice that severed the last thread of connecti
hter' s heart for profit. I took the last flicker of Nova and disappeared into the Ari