The door buzzes softly from outside my room, and before I even have the chance to think, it swings open.

  I freeze.

  April’s standing in the doorway. She’s calm, but there’s something else in her eyes. Something that feels different from earlier. I blink, confused. I never told her where I lived.

  “How did you—?” I start, but the words don’t come out. I’m too thrown off by her presence.

  She steps inside, closing the door gently behind her, and looks around the room, her gaze moving from the clutter on the desk to the dimly lit corners. She doesn’t seem out of place, not in the slightest. In fact, she looks more comfortable here than I feel.

  “I didn’t tell you where I lived,” I say, trying to make sense of everything happening right now. “So... how did you find-”

  She cuts me off before I can finish the question. “I know this is a little weird,” she says, giving me a hesitant smile, “but I just wanted to come by and... talk to you. I don’t know why, exactly, but I feel like we kind of connected today. And I wanted to get to know you better.”

  I blink, trying to process what she’s saying. My brain is still catching up. She wants to get to know me better? It’s flattering, but it also feels like an odd thing to hear, especially coming from someone like her.

  I step back from the door, not sure what to do but instinctively wanting her to come in. “Uh... okay. Come in, I guess.”

  She hesitates for a second, then steps inside, her eyes scanning the room, taking in the sparse setup. The soft hum of the city outside fills the silence between us, but there’s an energy in the air that’s hard to ignore. She’s standing close now, her presence making me feel more alert, more aware than I should be.

  “So,” she says, breaking the silence as she looks around again. “This is... cozy. Not what I expected. It's a little... quiet, right?”

  “Yeah, I don't do much with it. Just... spend time here.” I don’t know why I feel the need to explain myself. It’s like she’s waiting for me to fill the space with something, anything.

  April looks at me, her eyes holding mine for a moment longer than what feels normal. “I like it, though. It feels real. Not like all the shiny stuff everyone else has. It’s... you.”

  My breath catches in my chest. It’s strange, how she can see something in me that I can barely see myself. I don’t know if it’s the alcohol we shared earlier or just the weight of the situation, but there’s a pull between us now—something I can't quite place.

  She takes a step closer, her body language shifting, becoming more relaxed, yet there’s an underlying tension too, one I’m too nervous to acknowledge fully. Her eyes flicker over my face, searching for something.

  “I’ve been thinking about you,” she admits, her voice quiet again. There’s no bravado to it, no attempt to make it sound like anything casual. It’s just an honest statement.

  “Thinking about me?” I repeat, surprised by her words. She nods, a faint smile playing at the corners of her lips.

  “Yeah,” she murmurs, her gaze dropping to the floor before coming back to meet my eyes. “It’s strange. I can’t quite explain it, but there’s something about you. You’re different. Not in a bad way, just... different.”

  I’m frozen, unsure of how to respond. But there’s no need for words. She steps forward, slowly, and in that moment, the space between us feels electric. Her hand brushes against my arm lightly, a touch so brief but enough to make my pulse spike. She doesn't pull away, though.

  I watch as she inches closer, her breath warm on my skin, and before I know it, her lips are just a breath away from mine. The weight of her gaze is enough to make me forget everything else, and I feel the tension in the air swell between us.

  “Can I...” she starts, her voice shaking slightly. “Can I kiss you?”

  I nod, my heart thundering in my chest. It feels like my body’s acting on its own, and before I can question it, her lips are on mine. Soft at first, tentative. But soon, the kiss deepens, more urgent, more real. It’s as if everything that’s been building up inside of us finally finds release in that single moment.

  We pull away for a breath, and I can feel her hand slip down to rest on my waist, fingers grazing the skin beneath my shirt. The heat between us rises, and the room feels smaller, like the walls are closing in.

  But still, neither of us speaks. There’s no need for words anymore. It’s as if we’ve both decided that this is enough—that this moment, right here, is all we need to figure out the rest later.

  Without a word, she guides me toward the bed, and we both fall into it. The world outside doesn’t matter anymore. Time doesn’t matter. Everything fades into the background as we simply exist in the moment.

  And though we don’t say it aloud, the unspoken truth hangs between us: we both wanted this. And for the first time in a long time, it feels like I might not be as alone as I thought.

  I wake up to the faint sound of a buzzing in my ears. My mind is still hazy, the remnants of last night tangled in the fog of my thoughts. I can feel the warmth of April’s body next to mine, but it’s not enough to pull me back into sleep. I glance at the clock: it’s already past noon.

  Shit. I’m late.

  I slip out of bed as quietly as I can, trying not to wake April. Her breathing is steady, peaceful, but I know I have to go. The real world still exists, and it doesn’t care about what happened last night. I quickly grab a shirt and head out of the room, moving toward the kitchen. I’ve got an hour to get to my day job.

  I work at a small, barely known PC hardware store called Byte Haven. It’s one of those places tucked away between the towering, neon-lit skyscrapers, buried beneath layers of consumer tech giants. We fix everything from motherboards to memory chips. It’s not glamorous, but it’s steady. Plus, it’s close enough to my apartment that I don’t have to worry about traffic.

  As I step into the tiny backroom to grab my jacket, I feel my phone buzz in my pocket. I pull it out and see April’s name flash across the screen. I swipe to answer, surprised to hear her voice so early.

  “Oskar?” she sounds breathless, her tone tight with something I can’t place. “Oskar, something... something happened.”

  I stop mid-motion, the weight of her voice pulling my attention fully onto her. “April, what’s going on? Are you okay?”

  “Yeah,” she responds quickly, “I’m fine. But—your apartment... it exploded. Out of nowhere, Oskar. I don’t know what happened, but it’s... gone.”

  My heart skips a beat. My hands shake as I grip the phone tighter. The room starts to spin, and I can barely catch my breath. “What do you mean, ‘exploded’? How... how is that possible? I was just there!”

  “I don’t know,” she says, voice soft but steady, “but I heard the blast just after I left, and I rushed over as fast as I could. It... it’s a total wreck. I called the fire department, but everything’s a mess. It doesn’t look like an accident.”

  I feel the weight of her words sink into my chest. I can’t wrap my head around it. This wasn’t just some malfunction or freak incident. Someone wanted that place gone. Someone targeted me.

  A million thoughts race through my mind, but one cuts through clearer than the rest. "What about you?" I ask quickly, my voice coming out strained. "Did you get out okay?"

  “I’m fine, Oskar,” she reassures me, a touch of warmth in her voice. "I was already heading out when it happened. I was just lucky. But listen—" She pauses, her breath a little shaky. “You need a place to stay. You can come to mine, if you want. I mean, if you don't have anywhere else to go. It’s the least I can do after everything.”

  I stand there for a long moment, trying to make sense of everything. My apartment. Gone. I can’t even begin to process that. But April... April is offering me somewhere safe. Somewhere to stay, at least until I can figure out what’s going on.

  I glance at the small desk in the corner of the room, at the tools scattered across it, at the flickering screen of my work computer, waiting for my return. But none of it matters right now.

  “Yeah,” I finally say, my voice quieter than usual. “I... I’ll come over. Thank you.”

  She lets out a relieved sigh, the tension in her voice easing slightly. “I’ll text you the address. Just... just be careful, Oskar. I don’t like the sound of this. Be safe.”

  “I will. Thanks, April. I’ll see you soon.”

  I hang up and take a deep breath. Everything feels surreal, like it’s happening to someone else. How could this happen? Why me? And why now?

  I don’t have answers. But for now, I’ve got to move. I grab my jacket and head out, my mind racing with the implications of what just happened. Whoever did this is out there somewhere. And I don’t know if I’m ready for what’s coming next.

  The walk from Byte Haven to my apartment usually takes no more than five minutes. But today, it feels like an eternity. My feet drag with every step, the ground beneath me seeming more unstable with each passing moment. Every corner I turn feels like a trap. The explosion, the destruction of my home, keeps playing over and over in my head, each replay growing more vivid and surreal.

  This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  When I reach the front of the apartment building, I see April standing on the sidewalk, just outside the entrance. Her eyes meet mine the moment I step into view, and a small, almost relieved smile forms on her face. She’s wearing a light jacket, her hair pulled back loosely, and she looks like she’s been waiting here for a while.

  "Hey," I say, my voice a little more tired than I intend.

  "Hey," she replies, her smile bright but laced with concern. "You okay? You look... well, not okay."

  I shrug, trying to dismiss the tension in my body. "It’s... a lot to process. I don’t know what to feel."

  She doesn’t push further. Instead, she gestures to the sleek, black car parked a few feet away. "Come on, I’ll drive you to my place. You need somewhere safe, and it's not too far."

  I glance at the car, then back at her. Something in the way she’s looking at me makes me realize just how out of place I must look right now. The wreckage of my life is just around the corner, and yet here she is—offering me a place to stay, no questions asked. I nod, grateful.

  "I’m not far from here. I’ll keep you safe, Oskar," she adds, as if sensing my hesitation. "Let’s just go, okay?"

  I don’t argue. I climb into the car, the sleek interior swallowing me up in cool leather and soft ambient lights. As April starts the engine and pulls away from the curb, the hum of the city fades into the background, replaced by the quiet purr of her car’s engine.

  The drive is smooth, the streets passing in a blur of neon lights, crowded walkways, and distant skyscrapers. But as we leave the more industrial parts of the city, the landscape changes. The buildings become fewer, and the roads wider. The atmosphere shifts from the chaotic, tech-infested sprawl to something quieter, more serene, like a well-kept secret hidden just beyond the hustle and bustle of the city.

  Eventually, we turn onto a street lined with towering trees, their branches just beginning to bloom with the season. The houses here are massive, with manicured lawns and high iron gates. The world feels quieter here, and it’s almost as if the city has stopped. Then, we stop in front of a tall, modern mansion that stands out even against the luxurious homes around it.

  I take in the sleek, dark glass exterior, the high-tech lighting embedded in the stone pillars that flank the entryway. It’s the kind of place that’s seen in magazines—maybe even on some tech conglomerate’s social media feed, as the ‘luxury of the future.’

  April cuts the engine and turns to me, her eyes holding a mix of sincerity and discomfort. "Welcome to my place."

  I blink a couple of times, trying to absorb it all. "This is yours?" I ask, incredulous.

  She nods, her expression softening. "Yeah. It was my great-grandfather’s. He left it to me when he passed. I don’t really know why, but I guess I was his favorite. I’ve got it all to myself now." She shrugs, her smile shy. "It’s a bit much for one person, but it’s nice."

  I stare at the house for a moment longer, then back at April. "This is... unreal. I can’t believe this is where you live."

  She chuckles softly, unlocking the car door. "Yeah, I don’t really talk about it much. People don’t really expect someone like me to have a place like this."

  I follow her out of the car, still trying to wrap my mind around the difference between her world and mine. The contrast couldn’t be more stark. Here I am, fresh off losing my apartment, and she’s casually inviting me into a mansion.

  April leads me up the steps and through the massive front door, and I step into a foyer that feels more like the lobby of a high-end hotel. The air smells faintly of lavender, and the floors beneath me are polished marble, reflecting the low, ambient light from the ceiling. Every inch of this place screams wealth, power, and history. I don’t belong here, and yet... something about the way April is acting makes me feel strangely at ease.

  "Make yourself comfortable," she says, gesturing toward the expansive living room, where a huge screen dominates the wall. "I’ll grab us something to drink. I’m sure you could use it."

  I nod, my words caught in my throat. I don’t know what to say, what I’m supposed to do. It’s not that I’m uncomfortable, but this world—this reality—is so far removed from my own.

  As April disappears down a hallway, I sink into one of the plush leather chairs and try to focus on something, anything, to distract myself from the heavy weight of my thoughts. I look around the room, at the fine art on the walls, the rare sculptures scattered around the space, all of it so meticulously curated.

  When April returns, she’s holding a tray with two glasses of what looks like sparkling water. She sets it down on the coffee table in front of me, taking a seat across from me.

  "Here you go," she says, offering a smile that’s warm but distant, like she’s trying a little too hard to keep things light.

  I glance at the glass, my stomach twisting a bit. I don’t know what it is about sparkling water, but it feels like it’s everywhere in places like this. Rich folk can’t get enough of the stuff, acting like it’s some kind of rare luxury, when it’s just soda without the flavor. The bubbles tickle the back of my throat in the worst way, and the taste—if you could even call it a taste—leaves a weird metallic feeling behind, like drinking air with a hint of disappointment.

  I pick up the glass, making a half-hearted attempt at a sip, just so I don’t seem rude. The bubbles burn as they hit my tongue. I fight the urge to grimace, forcing a smile instead. “Thanks... but, uh, I’m not really a fan of sparkling water. Never could get into it.”

  April raises an eyebrow. "Really? I thought it was... refreshing?"

  I try not to laugh. "Refreshing is a stretch. It’s like someone took plain water, gave it a little fizz, and called it ‘elegant.’ You sure it’s not just soda without the fun?"

  She looks surprised for a second, then breaks into a soft laugh. "Well, I guess I get it. You’re not the first person to say that." She pauses, her gaze softening as she takes a seat on the couch beside me. "I guess I just thought... well, it’s what people here drink. It’s, uh, part of the whole vibe, right?"

  I give a casual shrug, setting the glass back down on the table. "Yeah, I can see that. But if I’m gonna drink something, I prefer it to actually taste like something."

  April’s laugh fades, and she looks at me, a hint of vulnerability creeping into her expression. “I get it. Maybe I got caught up in the whole thing. I’ll make you something you might actually like then.”

  While she’s gone, I lean back against the couch and turn on the TV. The news is playing, the screen flickering with images of the Mars base. The host’s voice cuts through the static:

  “In a groundbreaking announcement today, AzuriaCorp has revealed plans to significantly accelerate the development of human civilization on the Mars base. With their new AI humanoid models like Azuria, the company promises to enhance everything from resource management to human interaction, creating a safer and more efficient environment for colonization.”

  The screen cuts to a sleek, well-lit shot of an Azuria model, standing tall, its humanoid frame perfect and graceful. Diamond blue hair and diamond eyes, pale skin, latex body suit in black and white. It’s the kind of thing that makes you question if we’re already living in the future or just being sold the dream.

  "Revolutionary," the host continues, “experts say AzuriaCorp is on track to be the key player in human expansion to other planets. With its cutting-edge AI technology, Azuria could become the cornerstone of off-world development. But questions still remain about the ethical implications of relying on humanoid robots for such crucial tasks.”

  I snort under my breath. Ethical implications? They probably sold their soul to get that kind of tech.

  Just then, I hear the soft sound of footsteps behind me, and I turn around.

  Standing there, only a few feet away, is an Azuria model.

  It’s... perfect. Its skin is flawless, smooth, and unnervingly human-like, except for the faint glow that pulses just beneath its surface. Its eyes are an unnatural shade of blue, almost too bright to look at directly. The humanoid stands still, its posture stiff, but there’s a quiet intelligence in its gaze.

  I blink. This is... what? A glitch? Some kind of prank?

  I scramble to my feet, my heart racing. The Azuria doesn’t move, doesn’t even acknowledge my reaction, but it feels like it’s waiting for something. Its head tilts ever so slightly, like it’s studying me.

  The sudden presence of it throws me off completely, and I can’t seem to find the words to ask what the hell is going on. All I can do is stare, my mind running in circles. Why is it here? How is it here? And most of all, how the hell did April have an Azuria model in her place?

  Just as I’m about to say something, April walks back into the room, a bottle of something more familiar in her hand—probably some kind of juice or tea, nothing fancy.

  She freezes when she sees the Azuria standing there, and a strange, almost amused expression crosses her face. “Oh... you met Azuria already?”

  “Azuria?” I repeat, still unable to process what I’m seeing.

  April walks past me, placing the drink on the table. She stands in front of the android, like it’s nothing out of the ordinary. “Yeah, that’s Azuria. She’s, uh... part of my... family, I guess.”

  My mind doesn’t even know how to respond to that. “Family? What, you... have one of these?”

  April turns to face me, her eyes flickering with something I can’t quite read. “I work for AzuriaCorp,” she says, her voice low. “I’m not their biggest fan. But this one,” she gestures to the Azuria model, “I reprogrammed her to keep her off their radar. She’s... not quite what they think she is. And I think it’s time you understood why I’m really here.”

  The room falls into a tense silence. April’s words hang in the air, heavier than the lightness of the sparkling water she had left behind. My brain races, trying to process everything.

  "Wait, you—" I struggle to find the right words. "You reprogrammed an Azuria model? How the hell did you do that?" The questions spill out like water over an overflowing dam, my mind overwhelmed by everything that’s happening.

  April crosses the room, walking past me, as if the weight of my disbelief doesn’t faze her. She stands in front of the Azuria model, her eyes meeting mine for a moment before turning back to the bot. The figure is still and silent, but there’s something unsettling about it being here—like a perfectly crafted illusion just waiting to be shattered.

  “I’ve been working for AzuriaCorp for a while,” she begins, her voice calm, steady. “I was part of the team responsible for developing the Azuria models. I... I was proud of what we were doing at first. I thought it was for the greater good, you know? Helping people. But then I started noticing the cracks.”

  She pauses, her fingers brushing against the Azuria model’s sleek surface, like she’s tracing the seams of a broken promise. “I learned a lot of things I wasn’t supposed to. AzuriaCorp isn't just about improving human life. It’s about control. They’re building something far bigger than just AI. Their reach is already worldwide, but it doesn’t stop there. They’ve set their sights on Mars—on the entire human race.”

  The words hit me like a punch to the gut. I feel my stomach drop, a cold sweat prickling at the back of my neck.

  “And the reprogramming?” I ask, almost afraid to hear the answer.

  April faces me now, her eyes hard, but there's something softer in the way she looks at the bot. “The Azuria bots were designed to be compliant, yes. But they also collect data. Every moment. Every action. Everything.” She meets my gaze. “I hacked the code. I removed the tracking, the monitoring functions. Now, she’s just a bot. Not a spy.”

  The Azuria bot stands still in the corner of the room, her eyes focused straight ahead, her expression as neutral as ever. She looks like a machine, but the weight of April’s words makes me question just how much of a machine she is.

  “You’re playing a dangerous game, April,” I say quietly, my mind starting to whirl with the possibilities. “AzuriaCorp won’t let you get away with this.”

  April steps closer to me, her gaze unwavering. “That’s why I need you, Oskar. I need someone who can help me take them down. I’ve seen enough to know that it’s not just about business anymore. They have plans for humanity, and not in the way they’re selling it. They’re manipulating everything—from the AI to the very data they feed the public.”

  I try to swallow the rising anxiety in my throat. "Why me? Why bring me into this?"

  April tilts her head, a small, wry smile on her lips. “You don’t see it yet, do you? You’re already part of it. You’ve been talking about taking down the system for ages now. Every little crack in the world around you—well, you’re not the only one who sees them.”

  I’m silent for a long moment, the weight of her words sinking in.

  I didn’t come here looking for this. Hell, I didn’t even come here looking for April. But I can’t shake the feeling that I’m standing at the crossroads of something much bigger than myself. Something... dangerous.

  “So, what now?” I finally ask.

  April smiles, a glint of something dangerous in her eyes. “Now, we start the real work.”