Page 126 of GlitchBorn Heart

Kael leans forward, elbows on his knees, studying me like an error in his logs. “You saw for yourself on the cam, he looks like he’s sleeping most of the time. When he’s not, LINK has him in DreamNet. He’s probably sitting on your beach right now.”

I toss back the rest of the amber liquid and wince. I give Kael a look of despair.

“Don’t look at me like I can’t fix this,” he says. “I will. We’ll get him. You’ll stay human. You’ll feel. I’ll make damn sure of it. All of it.” He tosses his glass back, ice clinking against the side.

And stars help me, I almost believe him.

The whiskey warms me, but Kael’s right, that’s about it. It isn’t going to be enough to calm my fragile nerves like it was when I was alive. My fingers itch, restless. I tap my foot incessantly. The cold seeps in again despite being away from LINK and the grid.

“I have something for you.” Kael walks over to his desk and picks up a small bag with an understated black ribbon tied to the top. “I saw this and thought of you.” He hands me the bag.

I reach for it, blushing at the fact that as busy and important as he is, he thought of me outside of the lab. I remind myself again I don’t deserve him.

His eyes follow my every move as I remove the tissue to find a black leather sketchbook and drawing pencils. “Kael, you shouldn’t have.”

I move it to my lap and touch the engraving on the cover; it’s the celestial sun tattoo that runs down my back, my stamp from the effects of StarFell. “I love it. Thank you.” I pat the sofa for him to come over and join me again. He sits, and I hug him with both arms, our faces touching, cheeks brushing ever so slightly. As I squeeze, a part of me doesn’t want to ever let go.

I curl my legs beneath me, balance the book against my knees, and let the pencil move.

Outside the window, the city glares neon across steel structures. It should feel alive, but I know better. The light is shining for corporate greed, not for the public’s admiration. I decide to open the sketchbook and draw to ease the tension that’s building in my limbs. I draw what I see: the twisted skyline, against a backdrop of mist and haze.

When I pause to smudge a shadow, I feel Kael’s heavy stare. He’s sitting close, relaxed for once, watching me. He hasn’t moved in minutes. When I look up at him, he just leans back on the sofa, the empty glass on his thigh. The light from the windows slices fractals across his jaw.

“You look happy when you’re drawing.” Is that contentment on Kael Ryudon’s face?

I keep my eyes on the page. “Maybe I am.”

The silence stretches, but it’s not empty. He doesn’t press, doesn’t move closer, but I feel him anyway. His presence is always like pressure, impossible to escape, pulling me in even when I want to drift away.

For just a moment, I let myself believe this is what normal could look like. Sitting in a posh penthouse, sketching, while a man I shouldn’t trust watches me like I’m the only thing alive and brings me alcohol. I laugh lightly to myself.

Kael’s words hang in the air. You look happy when you’re drawing.

I should let it go. I have nothing to be happy about right now. Maybe I’m just more comfortable at this moment. You know, no evil robot trying to kill me. But his eyes won’t let me rest. They aren’t the usual black tonight; they’re flecked with gold and orange, almost soft. It terrifies me that he’s changing around me.

“Why are you staring at me?” I whisper, managing a grin.

He doesn’t hesitate to answer. “Because you are...” His voice is rough with conviction. “So beautiful. I can’t help it.”

Heat curls in my chest as the blood rushes to my cheeks. I want to believe him. But right now I’m incapable of feeling much of anything.

He shifts closer, slow and deliberate. His hand doesn’t touch me, but it rests on the couch beside mine, close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from his skin. “Every line you draw is proof you’re still human. That you still feel.” His gaze flicks to the sketchbook, then back to me. “If you can hold on to that for a little longer, I can get you out.”

The words sting because hope has always been the cruelest lie. I tense up. “Out? How, Kael? You can’t just unplug me. You said it yourself. If I’m cut from the system, I’ll unravel. I’ll cease to exist. Real death, not pretend.”

“Not if I write the body to catch you.” His stare becomes intense, as if speaking the thought makes it real. I can see the excitement rising in him. “A synthetic vessel. Neural pathways mapped, memory linked and loaded, sensations coded. It won’t be real flesh, but it will feel just like your own skin, but better. I’ve had a breakthrough with my cybernetics research. I can build you a body that will hold your soul.”

The room tips. I grip the sketchbook harder, graphite smearing under my fingers. “That’s insane.”

He leans closer, and his voice lowers to a murmur. “So was keeping you alive in the system. So was talking to your image through a screen. So is this.” He takes my hand in his. “I’ve already broken half my rules for you, Taiyō. Why stop now?”

Taiyō. Little Taiyō. His little sun. The nickname that once infuriated me but now makes butterflies flutter low in my chest. I wanted to hate it, but part of me ached at how right it felt. Sun. The complete opposite of his darkness. Destined to be the yin and yang, perhaps.

I force myself to meet his eyes again. They swirl infinitely like lost stars. “And what if you fail? Can it be reversed?”

“I won’t,” he says, without flinching. He simply doesn’t fathom another outcome.

The words hollow me out, filling me with doubt. The couch between us feels too small, but distance would feel worse. I can’t breathe around the knot in my stomach, can’t tell if it’s fear or excitement.