Chapter Three

Astrid’s eyes darted between LUX and the newcomer. The tension in the air was palpable, the kind that made her feel like a pawn in a game she didn’t understand.

The newcomer’s design was mesmerizing, sleek and humanoid but distinctly alien. Their green-lit eyes moved with a precision that seemed almost predatory. Their voice carried an air of authority that rivaled LUX’s, though it dripped with a sharpness that made Astrid bristle.

“And you are?” she asked, crossing her arms, more to appear confident than because she actually felt it.

The figure smiled—or at least performed some mechanical approximation of it. “I am TESS. Advisor to the king.”

“Advisor?” Astrid raised an eyebrow, turning her gaze to LUX. “Didn’t know you needed advice.”

LUX’s eyes flashed, his tone cooling to an icy edge. “You would do well to hold your tongue, human.”

TESS’s laugh rang out, a sound that might have been pleasant if it weren’t so sharp. “Oh, let her speak, my king. It’s rare to see such spirit in a creature so fragile.”

Fragile. The word stung more than it should have. Astrid clenched her fists, refusing to rise to the bait. “If I’m so fragile, why am I still here?”

TESS tilted their head, their glowing gaze locking onto her with unnerving intensity. “An excellent question. One that deserves an answer, wouldn’t you agree, my king?”

LUX didn’t respond immediately. He stepped back to his throne, his movements slow and deliberate, his glowing blue eyes fixed on Astrid like a predator assessing its prey.

“You are still here because your presence is… unique,” he said at last.

Astrid frowned. “That’s vague, even for a robot king.”

LUX’s lips—if they could be called that—curved slightly, though there was no warmth in the gesture. “You carry something with you. Something that should not exist here.”

She glanced at the shattered remains of her tablet in her hand. “This? It’s just equipment. Research tools. Nothing special.”

TESS’s eyes gleamed, a flicker of green light dancing across their features. “No, not the device. What lies within it. The program you created—this Evo—it has a… resonance.”

Astrid’s pulse quickened. “Resonance?”

LUX leaned forward, his massive frame casting an imposing shadow across the room. “Your program is not simply code. It has… potential. A potential we have never encountered before.”

Her mind raced. Could Evo really be the cause of all this? She had designed it to evolve machine intelligence, to push the boundaries of what robots could do—but she hadn’t expected it to spark whatever phenomenon had brought her here.

“I didn’t mean for any of this to happen,” she said, her voice softer now.

TESS chuckled, stepping closer. “Intent is irrelevant. What matters is the effect. And the effect, dear human, is seismic.”

Astrid’s breath hitched as TESS leaned down, their glowing eyes level with hers. “Your program might be the answer to questions our kind has pondered for centuries. Or it could be the end of everything we’ve built.”

“End?” Astrid asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“That’s enough,” LUX interjected, his tone sharp. “Leave us, TESS.”

TESS straightened, their mechanical frame whirring faintly. “As you wish, my king. But remember…” Their gaze flicked to Astrid, a glint of amusement and menace in their eyes. “She is more dangerous than she appears.”

With that, TESS turned and exited the chamber, their footsteps echoing in the silence.

Astrid exhaled slowly, tension she hadn’t realized she was holding draining from her shoulders. She turned back to LUX, who was watching her with an inscrutable expression.

“So,” she said, breaking the silence. “Are you going to tell me what this is really about?”

LUX stood, his towering form casting her in shadow. “This is about balance, human. Your presence here disrupts it. Your program threatens it.”

“I didn’t ask to be here,” she snapped. “I didn’t ask for any of this.”

“And yet, here you are,” LUX replied, his voice calm but firm. “You may not have chosen this, but you must face the consequences.”

Her frustration boiled over. “And what about you? What’s your role in all of this? You’re clearly not just some ruler sitting on a throne waiting for things to happen.”

For a moment, she thought she saw a flicker of something—hesitation, perhaps—in LUX’s glowing eyes. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared.

“My role is to protect this world,” he said simply. “And if that means containing you, I will do so.”

“Contain me?” Astrid’s jaw tightened. “I’m not some wild animal you can cage.”

“Then prove it,” LUX said, stepping closer. His voice dropped, low and intense. “Prove that you are more than a disruptor. Prove that you are worthy of trust.”

“Trust?” she echoed, the word tasting bitter on her tongue. “How am I supposed to prove anything when you’ve got me chained up and under constant scrutiny?”

LUX’s gaze didn’t waver. “You will find a way. If your program is as powerful as TESS believes, then you are capable of much more than you realize.”

Astrid’s head spun, the weight of his words sinking in. She didn’t know if she could trust him—or herself, for that matter. But one thing was clear: if she didn’t figure out the truth about Evo and her place in this strange world, she might not survive long enough to find her way home.

LUX turned away, his voice echoing across the chamber as he spoke his final words. “Tomorrow, you will begin your trials. Prove your worth, human, or be cast out.”

Before Astrid could respond, the doors opened again, and two guards stepped inside, their glowing eyes fixed on her.

“Take her to her quarters,” LUX commanded without looking back.

Astrid was hauled to her feet, the cuffs around her wrists tightening as the guards dragged her from the room. She didn’t resist this time. Her mind was too full of questions, fears, and the faint, flickering hope that she might somehow find a way to turn this impossible situation to her advantage.

As the doors to the throne room closed behind her, she cast one last glance at LUX. He was watching her, his glowing eyes unreadable.

For a moment, she thought she saw a glimmer of something deeper in his gaze. But then the doors sealed shut, and she was left in the silence of her own uncertainty.