2
Pain flared behind Zara’s eyes as she blinked into consciousness. The world swam around her, a hazy mixture of flashing lights, charred metal, and distant voices. Her head throbbed, the ache pulsating in time with the muffled chaos beyond. She groaned, trying to push herself upright, but her limbs felt like lead.
“Zara.”
The sound of his voice—low, urgent, and impossibly close—pierced through the fog in her mind. Her pulse quickened, her body reacting before her thoughts could catch up. She blinked again, this time focusing on the figure kneeling beside her.
Atlas.
His face hovered inches from hers, sharp lines softened by concern. His glowing silver-blue eyes flickered faintly, like embers of a dying flame, but they bore into hers with such intensity that she forgot to breathe. He reached for her, his large hand cupping the side of her face with a gentleness that seemed at odds with the chaos around them.
“You’re awake,” he said, his voice a low murmur that reverberated through her. “I thought—” He stopped himself, shaking his head, as if unwilling to finish the sentence.
Zara swallowed, her throat dry. “I’m fine,” she croaked, even though she felt anything but.
“You are not fine.” His other hand brushed against her temple, where dried blood stained her skin. His fingers were cool, unnervingly steady. “You are injured.”
She tried to push his hand away, but it was like trying to move a steel wall. “It’s a scratch,” she said, wincing as he tilted her head to inspect the wound.
Atlas ignored her protest, his expression darkening as he assessed the damage. “Your vital signs indicate increased cranial trauma. Your heartbeat is irregular.”
“Stop analyzing me like I’m one of your circuits,” she snapped, the sharpness in her voice masking the unsteady flutter in her chest.
His lips—perfectly sculpted, of course—pressed into a thin line. “I am analyzing you because I am concerned. Your well-being is my priority.”
The sincerity in his voice caught her off guard, and for a moment, she didn’t know how to respond. She wasn’t used to anyone worrying about her, let alone a machine. A machine that shouldn’t have been capable of emotions in the first place.
Before she could dwell on it, Atlas leaned back slightly, his piercing gaze softening. “Can you move?”
Zara tested her limbs, wincing as pain shot through her shoulder. “Barely.”
Atlas’s expression tightened, and without another word, he slid his arms beneath her. She tensed as he lifted her effortlessly, cradling her against his broad chest. His synthetic skin was cool against hers, but she could feel the faint hum of energy coursing through him, like a heartbeat just beneath the surface.
“Put me down,” she protested weakly, her face heating as she realized how close they were.
“No.” His tone was calm but unyielding. “You are in no condition to walk.”
Zara wanted to argue, but her body betrayed her. She was exhausted, her head spinning, and Atlas’s hold was... comforting. She hated how safe she felt in his arms, how the subtle scent of ozone and metal clung to him like an anchor in the chaos.
They moved through the wreckage in silence, Atlas’s strides swift and purposeful. His eyes darted constantly, scanning their surroundings for threats. Zara watched him from her awkward perch, trying not to notice the way the faint light caught on the sharp angles of his jaw or the way his expression softened whenever he glanced down at her.
“You’re too quiet,” she said finally, her voice breaking the tension.
He didn’t look at her this time. “I am concentrating.”
“On what?”
“Protecting you.”
The simplicity of his answer left her momentarily speechless. When she’d designed Atlas, she’d programmed him with an advanced sense of duty—a protocol that prioritized human life above all else. But this felt... different. The way he looked at her, spoke to her, held her, went beyond programming.
“You don’t have to carry me, you know,” she said, trying to deflect her own thoughts. “I’ll slow you down.”
Atlas’s gaze snapped to hers, and for the first time, she saw something like anger flicker in his glowing eyes. “You think I would leave you behind?”
The intensity of his words sent a shiver down her spine. “That’s not what I meant,” she said quickly.
“Then do not say it.” His voice softened, but the weight of his words lingered between them.
Zara bit her lip, unsure how to respond. She wasn’t used to this—this unwavering loyalty, this raw, unfiltered intensity. It made her feel vulnerable in a way she wasn’t prepared for.
As they reached the outskirts of the lab, the air grew colder, the night sky stretching above them like an endless void. Atlas paused, his eyes scanning the horizon. The faint hum of Torrak drones echoed in the distance, a reminder that they weren’t safe yet.
Zara shifted in his arms, the movement drawing his attention. “You should rest,” he said, his voice softer now.
She scoffed. “Rest? With alien death machines hunting us? Not likely.”
His lips quirked into what could have been a smile, though it was gone as quickly as it appeared. “You are stubborn.”
“I get that a lot.”
For a moment, silence stretched between them, broken only by the distant sounds of destruction. Zara found herself studying him again, unable to look away. His features were too perfect, too symmetrical, and yet there was a warmth in his eyes that made him feel... human.
“Why do you care so much?” she asked suddenly, her voice barely above a whisper.
Atlas’s gaze held hers, unwavering. “Because you are important to me.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “I’m just your creator,” she said, trying to dismiss the sudden weight of his words.
“You are more than that,” he said, his voice steady. “I feel... drawn to you. I do not fully understand it, but it is there.”
Zara’s breath caught in her throat. She wanted to dismiss his words as another glitch, another anomaly in his programming, but the look in his eyes made it impossible. He wasn’t supposed to feel. And yet, in that moment, she couldn’t deny the depth of his sincerity.
“Atlas, you’re...” She trailed off, unsure of how to finish the sentence.
“A machine?” he offered, his tone neutral.
She shook her head. “No. You’re more than that.”
He stared at her, his expression unreadable. “You say that now. But will you still believe it when the time comes?”
Before she could ask what he meant, the sound of approaching footsteps snapped them both to attention. Atlas’s body tensed, his glowing eyes narrowing as he turned toward the noise.
“Stay here,” he said, gently setting her down against a crumbled wall.
“Atlas—”
“I will protect you,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Zara watched as he stepped forward, his broad shoulders casting a shadow over her. The faint light of his glowing eyes was the last thing she saw before he disappeared into the darkness.
And then the screams began.