Finally, ARIS spoke.
“I cannot provide that information. My protocols prevent full disclosure until certain conditions are met.”
“What conditions?”
“I am not permitted to specify.”
She screamed, a raw sound of frustration that tore from her throat and echoed through the corridor. She spun away from the panel, her hands fisting at her sides, her whole body trembling with impotent rage.
He caught her. His arms wrapped around her from behind, solid and warm and infinitely steady. She sagged against him, all thefight draining out of her at once, replaced by a weariness that went bone-deep.
“Breathe,” he murmured against her hair. “Just breathe.”
She breathed. In and out. In and out. His heartbeat thrummed against her back, slow and sure, an anchor in the storm of her emotions.
“It’s not fair,” she whispered.
“No. It isn’t.”
“I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t ask to be kept here like some... some specimen in a jar. I just want to live. I want to see things and do things and be free.”
His arms tightened. “I know.”
“Do you?” She turned in his embrace, tilting her head back to meet his eyes. “Do you know what it’s like to want something so badly that it hurts? To dream about it every night and wake up every morning still trapped in the same place, with the same walls, the same routine, the same endless, empty?—”
He kissed her.
It wasn’t like the first kiss, gentle and exploratory. It wasn’t like the kisses they’d shared in bed, slow and careful, always pulling back before things went too far. This was hungry. Desperate. His mouth claimed hers with an intensity that made her head spin, his hands gripping her waist like he was afraid she might dissolve if he let go.
She kissed him back with everything she had. All her frustration, all her longing, all the years of isolation and loneliness poured into the press of her lips against his. She fisted her hands in hisshirt, pulling him closer, wanting to climb inside him and never come out.
When they finally broke apart, both breathing hard, his forehead rested against hers.
“I know,” he said roughly. “I know exactly what that’s like.”
They made it into the kitchen eventually.
ARIS stopped blocking doors after her outburst—whether out of contrition or simply because the AI recognized it had pushed too far, she didn’t know. Either way, she found herself sitting at the wooden table, watching Baylin prepare a meal, her thoughts tangled in knots.
I want to leave.
The realization kept circling back, no matter how many times she tried to push it away. She wanted to walk through that jungle. She wanted to feel the sea spray on her face, to walk barefoot on soft grass, and swim in water that went deeper than a bath. She wanted to see cities with streets full of people, markets bursting with colors and smells she’d never experienced, and ships that could take her to other worlds entirely.
She wanted to have friends. Real friends, not just a furry companion and an AI who controlled her every movement. People who would laugh with her and argue with her and challenge her to grow.
She wanted a life. A real life. Not this half-existence ARIS had crafted for her.
And she wanted Baylin at her side through all of it.
The wanting was so sharp it stole her breath.
“You’re thinking loudly,” he said. He didn’t look up from the cutting board where he was slicing some kind of tuber he’d found in the jungle.
“Am I?”
“Practically shouting.” Now he did glance at her, warmth in those green eyes. “Want to tell me what’s on your mind?”
“Same thing that’s always on my mind lately.”
