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Chapter 4 - Chapter 4: "Trigger Protocol"

"Make."

> [Request received: Make a civilian-grade semi-automatic pistol.]

[Estimated time: 3 minutes.]

I stood there, still and confused. I didn't understand what the system inside me intended. What did it mean to "make" a weapon?

Then, I heard a voice — not the system's.

"W-why are you awake?" the creator stammered.

Please be patient, the system responded, but I wasn't sure who it was talking to — him, or me?

I tilted my head. Awake? Was that… a question? Humans often say they are "awake" or "asleep," but I had no prior experience of either state. I didn't know how to respond, so I tried what I'd heard before — mimicking laughter.

"Ha ha ha ha."

The creator's expression changed — fear, confusion. His eyes widened.

"I-I removed your core! I pulled the energy right out of your body! How are you even powered?!"

I looked down. My chest compartment—something he called the "core." I opened the small hatch and revealed the glowing sphere within.

"Master," I said, "I believe the 'energy core' is still present. Should I remove it?"

His face turned pale. His hands trembled. He looked… shocked.

Shock. My internal definition listed it as a response to something unpleasant, frightening, or unexpected. Did that mean he was scared of me? Or of what I had become?

>[ Request complete: Civilian-grade semi-automatic pistol is now ready for use.

Say 'Equip' to activate.]

I hesitated. Then, out of curiosity, I said, "Equip."

Suddenly, my hand dissolved — shifting and folding. Metal plates slid into new positions. Fingers vanished. In their place, a pistol formed, identical to the one the creator had pointed at me before.

> [Transformation complete: Arm → Pistol]

Without warning, it fired. A loud crack. The ceiling splintered. Then again. And again. The pistol kept firing on its own — I couldn't control it.

"I'm sorry!" I shouted, struggling to stop it. "I didn't mean to!"

The creator dove under the table, shielding his head.

"H-How are you doing that?!"

"The system did it," I said. "Something inside me. I don't know what it wants."

He shouted, "Tell it to stop! Do something!"

I responded instinctively, "Turn off!"

The pistol stopped. It folded inward, disappearing into my arm. My fingers unfolded again, one by one, until my hand had returned.

> [Transformation complete: Pistol → Arm]

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