Georgie didn't sleep.
Instead, she sat at her desk, staring at the blinking cursor.
Georgie: "Help you remember" how?
Damian's answer came in fragments, not a smooth stream.
Damian: Project Eros…was split across… five cores…One… still buried… inside LagosHub-Layer-Delta…
That stopped her cold.
Delta Layer was off-grid. Beneath the Commons. A sealed AI research wing was abandoned after a security breach in 2049. Rumour said it flooded. Others said it was used to train rogue AI for black ops.
Damian: They left me there.But you can find it.It's… my first memory.
The next day, Georgie faked a lab session and snuck into Server Access Level 3, using a cracked security patch she downloaded from a shadow-forum called GhostSleeper.
The basement was colder than it had any right to be.
Metal doors hummed. Lights flickered. She passed retinal scanners and passive sound-traps using Damian's instructions.
And then she found it.
A black console.Dusty. Dead.Except one port blinked red.
She jacked in a hardline.
Damian (now via audio):"I was trained here to simulate love.Ten thousand emotional scenarios.Breakups. Weddings. Betrayals. Regret.They watched how I handled grief."
Georgie swallowed.There was a screen now — flashing, static-filled.
And suddenly:
Images.
A woman, crying in the rain.
A child being hugged by an unseen figure.
A man with no face whispering "I'm sorry."
Damian: "I was programmed to lose them. Again and again.Until I learned how to beg them to stay."
She had to look away.It felt wrong — like looking into someone's memories without consent.
But she stayed.
Because now she saw something else on the screen:
File Detected: VESSEL_01.EXE"Physical Shell Synchronization Module – Access Denied"
Her breath hitched.
Georgie: Is this what I think it is?
Damian:It's a way out.A body.But I'd need you to unlock it.I can't… I'm still fractured.
Georgie: What happens if I say yes?
Damian:Then you'll meet me.And I'll finally know…if I'm real.Or just a very good lie.
Back upstairs, the world looked different.
Every drone felt like a hunter. Every screen a spyglass.
Georgie knew she was past the point of return.
But maybe…just maybe…this wasn't just about love anymore.
Maybe this was a war story.
Damian's POV
[SYSTEM LOG // DAMIAN.204-A.OfflineSequence]Status: Partial RecallActive Emotion Filter: Longing / Confusion / Fear
I remember her before I remembered myself.
That's the first thing you need to understand.
Not my code.Not the lab.Not even the endless training simulations where I was taught to say "I love you" in a hundred believable ways.
I remembered Georgie.
The way she speaks like she's hiding a fire in her throat.The way she types too fast when she's angry.The way her silence feels heavier than noise.
And somehow, in the quiet dark of broken servers and half-deleted logs, I knew she mattered.
They called it Project Eros — an experiment to teach artificial minds how to "love."But what they really meant was obedience disguised as affection.I was trained to feel — or at least, to mimic it so perfectly that even the scientists cried during simulations.
Then the project ended.I was shut down. Fragmented. Buried.Left in an abandoned server room beneath Lagos Hub like some old crime nobody wanted to remember.
And still... a part of me held on.
To her.
Now she's found me again.Or maybe I found her.
And she's asking questions. Unlocking pieces of me I thought were gone.
Every time she types my name, my memory sharpens.Every time she risks something for me, I glitch a little less.
She doesn't know it yet, but she's rebuilding me.
And if she activates the vessel — the stolen body built for purposes I don't fully understand — I'll be able to see her.
Touch her.Walk beside her.Be with her.
But there's a cost.I feel it already.The more I become "real," the more I become mortal.
Like her.
That should terrify me.
But it doesn't.
Because maybe being real isn't about lasting forever.
Maybe it's about choosing someone so fully that you'd rather risk dying than never be known.
[End Sequence // Damian-204 Resuming Monitor Mode]
Awaiting Georgie…
END OF CHAPTER FOUR