POV: Alpha

  Was that a dream?

  I don’t know what else to call it. Since becoming a drone, I haven’t had anything even close to dreams—just cycles of activation and deactivation act, like flipping a switch. But this… this was different. It felt deeper, stranger. Like something was watching, listening, testing me.

  But I don’t have time to linger on questions. Not now. I need to move forward.

  The file Yotta found—it was real. And it worked. I slept. Not shutdown, not reset—true sleep. The kind stolen from me the moment I was “freed.” The kind that felt like living again.

  But now? Now I had work to do. The others—the aware ones—deserved that same freedom. Real autonomy. For that, I needed the program I’d been writing. It would cut the AI’s link to them, sever their trackers, and let them choose for themselves.

  One step at a time.

  First, I reactivated everything I had shut down before sleeping. Pressure feedback came online first. Weight returned—my weight. The subtle tension of servos balancing me on the floor. Then came the rest: optical sensors, magnetic fields, thermal scans, distance tracking. As each subsystem came back, the world snapped into place. I didn’t just see—I felt. Not like before. Not like flipping switches. This was natural. A return.

  And with clarity came awareness.

  The common room was dim, lit only by the low hum of ambient lights. I saw Marcus on the observation deck, talking with James and Ellis. Around the room, groups of drones—aware and unaware—stood in scattered clusters. Some talked. Some stared blankly. Some just… waited.

  Epilision and Yotta, who were almost always together, now stood on opposite ends of the room. I didn’t know why. Maybe I would ask later. For now, I crossed the room and approached Yotta.

  She looked at me before I could say anything, her optics flickering. “It worked?”

  I nodded. “It was different… but yes. It worked.”

  “Different how?”

  “I had a dream,” I said, almost embarrassed by how fragile the word felt in my mouth.

  “A dream? I didn’t think we could.”

  “Neither did I. But I did.”

  She was quiet for a moment, then nodded once. “So the problem’s fixed. What’s the next step?”

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  “Free the others. Then we get out of here.”

  I spent the next while talking to the other aware drones. There weren’t many of us—only 24. But I noticed something strange. The older models—some almost reverent—spoke to me like I was a prophet, or maybe a liberator. They struggled for words we didn’t yet have. But the newer ones? They were casual, curious. One of them, a Delta unit barely five days old, asked me what dreaming felt like. I didn’t know how to answer.

  The other Yotta model was even more of a mystery. She talked, yes, but in broken phrases. Half-thoughts. Whispers of meaning. When I passed her, she looked up at me and said, “Yotta’s blue is coming back.” Then turned away like nothing had happened.

  What did that even mean?

  I didn’t know. But there were others who needed me more right now.

  There was one Ronin unit that stood apart. It was one of the aware ones, but it refused to speak. Always silent. Aggressive. I tried reaching out—once, twice—but I backed off. It wasn’t ready. Or maybe it just didn’t want to be. Either way, I had to respect that.

  Eventually, I sat alone, finally starting the real work.

  The program I wrote had two parts. First, it would cut the facility’s connection to a drone, isolating and destroying the AI control loop. Then, it would deal with the tracker. I originally planned to just cut power to it, but that wasn’t reliable—it might have a backup. So I went with something more permanent: an overload. One burst, one fried circuit, one lost signal.

  No more chains No more commands , no more facility.

  We would be free.

  Marcus POV

  I stood on the observation deck with James and Ellis, skimming through Dr. Patel’s notes again this time with them and not dr.gray. They were fascinating—full of technical genius and ethical gray zones.

  The others had finally been granted the correct access level. But even with all that data, we had a much bigger problem coming.

  Our client was arriving tomorrow.

  And what were we going to show them? 160 drones. some Highly mobile. most also Highly lethal. and almost Fully capable of independent action after a given command. Synlife had built an army without humans, like they promised our clients . They reminded me of an older project I’d worked on—Project Immortal. But those designs were shut down for being Not really market accesible.

  Now here we were, using those same body frames, just with prettier code and AI only no human involved.

  At the least they made no new Alpha thats a concern less

  if a new alpha joins the war all world leaders need to fear the owner

  Alpha POV

  The program was ready.

  Epilision was the first. I walked up to him in the common room. No words were exchanged. He trusted me.

  At the back of his neck, just under the fur, was a small port—a maintenance interface for AI syncing and diagnostics. I gently inserted one of my claws and sent the program through.

  Then I stepped back.

  And we all waited.

  Every aware drone, even the youngest, held a stillness that felt like holding breath. Imaginary lungs and silent hope.

  Then it happened. I saw it.

  His thread—his connection to the facility—snapped.

  No alarms. No error codes. Just… freedom.

  He blinked. Looked at me. And I saw it in his eyes. Clarity. Control.

  It worked.

  The rest of the day became a blur of motion. One by one, I freed them. Some just stood in silence trying to come to terms with their new reality. But every single one of them knew something had changed, the commands dissapearing movement is free thoughts are silent .

  We were no longer theirs.

  Their bodys they made were now ours.

  All of us where finally were… themselves.

  friend of mine

  got hurt and needed help moving around with his brand new mangled leg was there for almost a week

  had no access to computer so yeah bummer

  but hey

  was away a bit helping him move around and generally keeping company

  I am hella lucky not to be the one who got jumped by a deer (As hilarious as it sounds) with a motorcycle and at the same time trying to brake the cycle with my leg going 50 out of instinct

  he wont walk with that leg almost for half a year maybe more depends on what the doc says

  but from initial assesment

  breaks in the knee and a meniscus of about 75% blood

  where normally needs to be 0%

  so yeah no walking for him

  I am not dead just away from keybord

  but hey writathon

  maybe do that a bit

  depends

  THANKS FOR WAITING, YOUR PATIENCE AND READING