e a job. A pity position managing the human artists his stolen AI was making obsolete. He wan

eone who understood the game he was playing. I feigned ignorance of his bizarre "other life" comment, treating it like the ramblin

uccess or being nothing. He was wrong. I was going to offer him a third option: complete and utter ruin. The pain of his betrayal, the grief for my

ned it to find Sarah standing there, her face a mask of furious indignatio

g my sparse belongings with disdain. "Mark told me about his offer. He

work for the people who destroyed her l

u! Even now, with me, he worries about you. He feels guil

pare parts. It was shaped like a dragonfly, with whirring, delicate wings and glowing blue optic sensors. It was my only companion

a small shriek. "What is tha

a few inches from her face. It didn't touch her, but its sudden movement was enough. Sara

er. He took in the scene in an instant: Sarah on the floor, looking terrif

Sarah's side and helping her up. He didn't ask what happen

h cried, clinging to him. "T

her," I said flat

by my side. He saw it not as a piece of hobbyist tech, but as an extensi

is voice low and menacing. "Let's see

delicate frame. There was a sickening crunch of plastic and metal, a brief, pathetic whirring sound, and then silence

hattered something inside me. It was a small, silly thing, a collection of circuits and motors, but it was mine. He had destroyed it for no reason other th

He looked down at the broken drone, then at me, his expression one o

rah out of the apartment, sl

ght, crushing my chest. But beneath the grief, a new foundation was being laid. The fire in my gut was no longer cold. It was raging. He had made a mistake. He tho

a soft knock on the door. I ignored it. It came again, more persi

ind, weathered face and intelligent eyes that seem

y name is Elias Vance. I was