The Othan Laboratory was entirely underground.
The boy led her through a secret passage, his pace steady but urgent. He remained silent, and she didn't ask why. The only sound was the echo of their footsteps against the metallic floor, reverberating through the narrow, dimly lit corridor. The air was cold and stale, carrying the distinct sterility of the facility. She followed without question, her mind slowly sharpening as the effects of sedation wore off.
Her body was still adjusting. She could feel the weight of her exoskeleton, the faint hum of the cybernetic components embedded within her limbs. She was A-01, she reminded herself. A weapon. A controlled existence, manipulated as needed. She knew only battlefields and laboratories, environments designed to contain her. Those who created her feared her, avoided her, altered her configurations at will.
The tunnel stretched on, the dim glow of overhead emergency lights casting long, distorted shadows. The air was heavier here, almost suffocating. It was as if the walls themselves were pressing in, urging them forward, away from the cold grasp of the laboratory.
Finally, they reached an exit. A metallic door hissed as it slid open, revealing the vast expanse beyond.
The sky was suspended between night and day, a deep, muted blue stretched endlessly above them. Before them lay a field of wild grass, the wasteland extending into infinity. The horizon was a hazy blur, uncertain and untamed. There were no clear paths, no indicators of direction. Just open space. The air carried a warmth foreign to her, a stark contrast to the cold sterility of the lab.
The boy hesitated. "I… I didn't know the tunnel would lead us here," he admitted, glancing around, his brows slightly furrowed.
She stepped forward, observing everything—the air, the shifting grass, the way the sky stretched on with no walls to contain it. It was different. Warmer than the lab.
"Is it too hot for you?" he asked, noticing her stillness.
She shook her head. "No… but it feels like home."
The words startled her. She wasn't sure where they had come from. Home? What was that? She barely understood what she had just said. The laboratory had always been the same—controlled, calculated. Outside was different.
The long grass grazed against her calves as they moved forward, and the night breeze swept across the field. It was foreign, vivid… yet something about it felt natural.
"This is new to me," she said softly.
The boy turned to her. "Really?" A small smile touched his lips. "Then… I'll take you anywhere you want to go."
She blinked. "I don't have a place I want to go."
His smile faded slightly, as if realizing something. "You've only ever been sent to battlefields, haven't you?"
She didn't answer, but he understood. He looked away, lost in thought. "I've been sent to places like that too. Once, I fought in a desert. The battle lasted a month." His voice softened as if recalling something distant. "During our breaks, some soldiers would search for fresh fruit."
His face brightened suddenly, as if struck by a memory. "There was this fruit that grew on a tree called Silverglow. It shines at night, like a tiny star. Even its seeds glow."
He reached into his exoskeleton, and after a moment, retrieved a small object. A softly luminescent seed rested in his palm.
"I kept one as a keepsake," he said, placing it in her hand.
She observed it closely. The light it emitted pulsed gently, its glow flickering in rhythmic patterns. "How does it taste?" she asked.
His expression brightened, his smile widening. "If you want to know, we'll have to find a Silverglow tree."
She stared at the seed. "You want me to have a place I want to go to."
He nodded. "Because then… I'll have a place I want to go to too."
She frowned slightly. "I don't understand."
He chuckled softly, shaking his head. "It's because I'm your friend."
The sky shifted, the deep blues lightening as the first slivers of dawn touched the horizon. She had never seen a sunrise before.
She watched the light grow, feeling something stir within her. "This is summer," she murmured. "Daybreak."
A pause. Then, she added, "They will erase my memories when I return to the lab."
She turned to him.
His expression grew serious. "Once we're out of the wastelands, it'll be harder for them to find us." He met her gaze. "The system can only erase what it knows about. Whatever we see now… it's ours alone. A secret between us."
She thought for a moment, processing his words. The sunrise, the wind, the warmth—things she had never experienced, things they couldn't take from her.
A strange feeling welled up inside her. "Calming… encouraging… bright."
She hesitated. Then, before she could stop herself, she said it. "Caleb."
The moment the name left her lips, her mind reeled.
A singularity opened inside her mind, like being pulled into a black hole. Flashes of something—someone—flooded her mind. A distant universe, a different dimension. A fractured reality. She held her head as the weight of the moment crashed down on her.
The boy's voice cut through her haze. "Are you okay?" He bent slightly, trying to meet her lowered gaze. Worry laced his tone. "Is this a side effect? Withdrawal from the neural conduits and synchronization wires?"
For a moment, the visions overwhelmed her. Then, slowly, she regained control.
"…I… I am okay." She lifted her gaze, looking at him. "Caleb."
The name slipped from her lips effortlessly. Endearment in her cold voice.
He stared at her, confusion flickering in his eyes. "Is it a code? It sounds like a name."
She shook her head. "No… X-02. Caleb."
Silence hung between them for a moment. Then, he spoke, his voice softer than before. "Can I use it?"
She blinked.
He smiled slightly. "As my name?"
She hesitated, then nodded. "Caleb."
His smile widened. "Of course. I won't let you forget. Caleb will be someone you will see every day" He extends his pinky finger toward her. "Hold out your finger. This is how you make a promise. It's a promise—we'll stay together every day and never be apart."
She looks at him, studying his expression. Her pinky latches onto his, and suddenly, a vision flashes before her eyes—of them, captured, torn apart. Something shifts inside her, something she cannot yet name. But she knows, this moment changed everything. This was her purpose. Slowly, she tightens her grip on his hand.
"We have to run," she says, her voice steady. "And never look back. As far as we can make it."
His smile fades as the weight of reality settles over them. Without hesitation, they break into a sprint, the wind rushing past. As they run, he glances at her. "Run diagnostics on your exoskeleton. Check energy levels, propulsion systems, and endurance settings. Anything that can give us an advantage."
She focuses, engaging her internal systems, scanning for optimal performance.
The dawn stretched before them, illuminating the wasteland in golden light, marking the beginning of something new.
A fate rewritten.