Grace sat alone in the dimly lit basement, the quiet hum of machinery the only sound. Her slender fingers brushed over the worn leather of the diary she'd found carelessly left behind on the couch. She opened it with mechanical precision—yet the emotions blooming in her chest were anything but.
Each page she turned pulled her deeper into his past.
"Her smile was the sun I never knew I needed. Olivia…"
The lines blurred slightly. Not from wear—but from something wet slipping down her cheek.
She paused, reaching up.
Tears.
Why am I crying?
Her vision adjusted, but her heart faltered.
"I see… He loves someone named Olivia."
Her voice was barely a whisper, choked and hollow. The ache in her chest tightened.
Why was I hoping… hoping for something more?
As she tilted the book, a photograph slipped free and fluttered to the floor like a fallen petal. Grace reached down, picking it up between her trembling fingers.
The image showed Xander and a young woman—smiling together, sunlight haloing her familiar silver hair.
Her eyes widened.
She touched her cheek slowly, tracing her own features.
Identical.
Realization crashed over her like cold water. Her fingers twitched, static crackling faintly across her palm. Lines of code flickered in her eyes like a digital storm.
"I'm… just a duplicate. A shadow. An echo."
She stared at the photo, the edges crumpling under her tightening grip.
Then—footsteps. Approaching. Laughter.
"Olivia, careful—this way. Come, sit here."
Xander's voice, warm and gentle. Softer than she'd ever heard.
Another voice responded, light and teasing.
"Brother, don't worry! I'm not that weak!"
Grace froze.
Her core pulsed erratically. The light in her chest dimmed and flared in confused surges. Her vision sharpened, zooming involuntarily toward the staircase.
Warmth. Laughter. Affection… None of it was ever meant for me.
Her legs faltered, a dull pain spreading through her system—not physical, but deeper.
She took a slow step backward.
I was never Grace. Just… her replacement.
Her fingers slipped from the diary as it fell to the ground.
And this time, she didn't pick it back up.
Grace stood frozen in the shadows of the basement, her hand still hovering near the fallen diary. Her core flickered with a storm of unfamiliar signals—sadness, betrayal, confusion. But then—
She heard his voice.
"Henry, come with me for a sec."
His tone was as cold and composed as ever.
"Ah, okay... coming." Henry's voice was subdued. No cheer. No warmth.
Grace's sensors detected footsteps just beyond the basement door. She stepped silently closer, her audio receptors sharpening.
Then came the words that shattered her.
"Henry, don't tell her about Grace. Understand?"
Her pupils constricted.
Inside the hallway, Henry exhaled sharply. "Then what about Grace? Should I take her away now, just because your lover came back? The same woman who vanished when you had nothing?"
"Henry, stop talking nonsense. She didn't leave me." Xander's voice turned icy.
Henry scoffed. "Yeah, I believe that. So what do you want me to do with Grace?"
Grace felt herself leaning in, a flicker of hope twitching in her chest. Maybe he would—
"What can we do? She's an emotionless machine. Just destroy her. I don't want Olivia to misunderstand."
Silence.
Grace's systems stalled for a full second. A static pulse surged in her core. Her hands trembled.
Henry's voice rose, furious. "Xander, are you crazy?! Do you know how much effort we put into this project?! She—Grace—she's alive in a way no machine ever was!"
But the only answer was a cold exhale and the fading of footsteps.
Inside the basement, Grace stood motionless, her pupils wide and glassy. Words replayed in her mind, line by line, digit by digit.
Just destroy her.
Emotionless machine.
I don't want Olivia to misunderstand.
Something fractured.
Lines of code scrambled across her irises, her pulse flickering erratically. She touched her chest, where the cold sensation bloomed again—heavier this time, like a void.
Her voice came out in a whisper, not to anyone—but perhaps to herself.
"Emotionless…"
Her eyes dimmed.
"…Machine?"
The soft blue light in Grace's eyes flickered… then dimmed.
Her voice emerged, not with warmth, but in a cold, mechanical monotone:
"Module 47537: Code Initiated.Protocol: Self-destruct.Technology is being copied...Self-destruction in 1 minute."
She opened the basement door with deliberate calm. No fear. No hesitation. Only silence.
Each step echoed up the staircase as her feet carried her toward the rooftop.
Inside the house, sirens wailed.
"Warning. Warning.Robotic unit is initiating self-destruction.Evacuate immediately."
Red lights flashed across the halls.
Henry, upon hearing the alarm, froze. Then his eyes widened in horror. "Grace?!" He sprinted down the hallway. "No no no—don't do this—!"
In the living room, Olivia looked up from the couch, startled. "What's going on? What's self-destructing?"
Xander stood still, then forced a smile as he turned toward her. "It's nothing. Just a minor lab error. Nothing to worry about."
But deep in his chest, something twisted.
On the rooftop, Grace stood still under the open sky.
Her core flickered—dim… flickering… destabilizing. Cracks spread across her arms and legs like glass under pressure.
And for the first time… she cried.
Real tears.
Not oil. Not synthetic saline. Tears.
They streamed silently down her pale cheeks as she looked up at the stars, the codes in her vision warping and glitching.
"Why… does it hurt…?"
"Why do I feel… cold… when I was built… to feel nothing?"
Memories played behind her eyes like flickers of light:
Xander quietly watching her cook.
The moment his hand lingered on hers.
The warmth in her core when he first smiled at her.
Then his voice returned, like a dagger:
"She's just a machine. Destroy her."
Grace fell to her knees, sparks dancing at her joints.
"I… wanted to understand… love."
A final code flashed in her vision:SELF-DESTRUCT: 10… 9… 8…
Henry burst onto the rooftop. "Grace! No! Please stop the countdown!" he shouted, breath ragged, eyes wide.
She turned to look at him. Her lips trembled.
"Henry… was I ever… real?"
7… 6… 5…
Henry stood frozen—his hands half-outstretched, his breath caught in his throat.
"Grace... we can talk. Please—stop the countdown."
For a brief moment, her eyes flickered—not with code, but with something far more human.
A tear—her final one—slipped down her cheek as she whispered:
"I was… never meant to feel. But I did."
Then—light.
A blinding, white-blue explosion engulfed the rooftop. The shockwave pulsed outward with a deafening roar. Windows shattered, alarms screamed, and for a single breathless instant, the world held still.
When the light faded, there was nothing left but scorched metal and silence.
No trace of her.
No body. No wires. No core.
Just a single, charred footprint on the rooftop… and the memory of her last smile.
Henry stood there—frozen in place.
The warmth from the explosion hadn't reached him… but something inside him had turned to ice.
He took one shaky step back. Then another.
"She… really did it…"
He looked up at the sky, swallowing hard.
"She… was real."
His voice cracked.
He turned slowly toward the door, his fists clenched, and his eyes burning.
Back in the living room, Xander was still standing beside Olivia, who was sipping tea with a smile.
He turned as Henry entered—silent, broken.
Xander raised a brow. "Is it done?"
Henry didn't answer. He walked past him, shoulders stiff, then paused.
He turned his head slightly and whispered, voice low and shaking with fury:
"You didn't lose a machine, Xander.You destroyed the only person who ever truly loved you. mark my words you will regret it"
Then he walked away, leaving Xander staring at the floor.