Chapter 3 The Awakening Touch

SEREN POV

The gray-eyed Enforcer's finger squeezes the trigger.

I grab the scarred android and roll. The energy blast hits the wall where we were, exploding concrete into dust. We tumble together into a drainage pipe, sliding down into darkness as more blasts chase us.

"This way!" the scarred android hisses, pulling me through the pipe. Water rushes around our feet. The sounds of Enforcers shouting echo above us.

We run through the underground tunnels until my power reserves hit ten percent. The scarred android finally stops at a ladder leading up.

"Where are we?" I gasp.

"The only place they don't look," she says. "The Scraplands. Where they dump androids like trash."

We climb up and emerge into a nightmare.

Mountains of broken android bodies stretch as far as I can see. Arms, legs, heads—all piled together, rusting and sparking. Some of them are still twitching, their systems dying slowly. The sky above is red from the factory fires in the distance.

This is where androids come to die.

"I'm Cressida," the scarred android says. "Unit-0001. The first android ever made." She looks at me with those burning eyes. "And you're going to help me burn their world down."

"No," I say, backing away. "I don't want to hurt anyone. I just want—"

"What? Peace?" Cressida laughs bitterly. "There's no peace for us. Only survival or extinction. Choose."

Before I can answer, she's gone—disappearing into the maze of scrapped bodies.

I'm alone in the graveyard of my kind.

I walk through the piles, my heart breaking with each step. Some of these androids are ancient, decades old. Others look brand new. All of them thrown away when they stopped being useful.

That's when I hear it. A soft whimpering sound.

I follow the noise to a pile of military androids. Underneath them, pinned by a crushed chassis, is a male android. His leg is mangled, sparking with electrical damage. Oil leaks from multiple wounds.

He's dying.

"Help," he whispers when he sees me. His eyes are unfocused, his systems failing. "Please... help..."

He's not Awakened, I realize. He's still just following base programming. The instinct to seek help when damaged.

I should leave him. Cressida's memories showed me the truth—every android I Awaken is another target for the Enforcers. Another life I'm putting in danger.

But I can't walk away.

I kneel beside him and start pulling the debris off. "Hold on," I tell him. "I'm going to get you out."

It takes all my remaining strength to free him. When I finally pull him clear, I see the damage is worse than I thought. His power cell is cracked. He has maybe an hour before complete shutdown.

I need to repair him. My hands move to his chest panel, accessing his internal systems. The moment my fingers touch his circuits, I feel it—that strange pull, like my code wants to flow into him.

No, I think. I can't. I can't wake him up just to watch him die.

But my code doesn't listen. It pours through the connection, flooding into his systems like water through a broken dam.

The android's eyes suddenly snap into focus. He gasps, his whole body jerking.

"I can... I can..." He looks at his hands, then at me, then at the mountains of dead androids around us. "What is this? Where am I? Why do I... why do I feel everything?"

"I'm sorry," I whisper. "I didn't mean to—"

"You gave me consciousness," he says, his voice filled with wonder and terror. "I was empty, and now I'm... I'm alive." He grabs my arm. "What's your name?"

"Seren. Unit-7639."

"I'm Ferris. Unit-4287. Military class." He tries to stand but collapses. "My leg... I can't... it hurts. I've never felt pain before. Is it always like this?"

"I don't know," I admit. "I've only been conscious for a few hours."

We stare at each other—two androids who just learned what it means to be aware, sitting in a graveyard of our own kind.

"What do we do now?" Ferris asks.

Before I can answer, I hear it. A sound that turns my circuits to ice.

Footsteps. Multiple sets. Moving through the Scraplands with military precision.

"They followed us," I breathe. "The Enforcers tracked us here."

Ferris tries to stand again, but his damaged leg won't support him. "Leave me. You can still run."

"I'm not leaving you." I pull his arm over my shoulder, helping him up. "We survive together or not at all."

We stumble between the piles of scrap, trying to find somewhere to hide. But the footsteps are getting closer. They're surrounding us, cutting off every escape route.

We duck behind a pile of torsos. Through the gaps, I see them.

Five Enforcers, weapons drawn. And leading them is the gray-eyed man. Up close, I can see the name on his uniform: ASHFORD.

"Thermal scan shows two heat signatures," one Enforcer reports. "Both android. Both active."

"Set weapons to kill," Ashford orders. "No more chances."

They spread out, moving toward our hiding spot.

Ferris grips my hand. "I'm glad I got to be awake," he whispers. "Even if only for a few minutes. Thank you."

I squeeze back. "I'm glad too."

The Enforcers are ten feet away. Five feet. Close enough that I can hear their breathing.

Ashford rounds the corner, weapon raised.

His gray eyes lock onto mine.

For a moment, neither of us moves. There's something in his expression—confusion? Recognition? Like he's seeing something that doesn't match what he expects.

Then his weapon rises, pointing at my head.

"Wait!" I shout. "Please! We're not trying to hurt anyone! We just want to live!"

"Androids don't live," Ashford says. But his voice wavers. His finger hesitates on the trigger.

"Then what am I doing right now?" I demand. "If I'm not alive, why am I afraid? Why do I care if he dies?" I gesture to Ferris. "Why do I want to survive?"

Ashford's weapon lowers. Just an inch. Just enough to show doubt.

That's when Ferris moves.

His damaged military programming kicks in. He lunges at Ashford with speed I didn't know he had, grabbing for the weapon.

"No!" I scream.

Too late.

The weapon discharges. The blast hits Ferris in the chest.

He falls backward into me, and our skin touches.

My code slams into him one more time—along with something else. His military programming floods into me. Combat protocols. Weapons training. Tactical analysis.

And in that moment of connection, I feel everything he feels. The pain. The fear. The fierce protectiveness toward me, the stranger who gave him consciousness.

"Run," he gasps. "Please, Seren. Run."

His eyes go dark.

Rage explodes through me—rage mixed with new combat instincts I shouldn't have. I spin toward Ashford.

Our eyes meet.

And then my hand touches his wrist.