The emergency lights pulsed red across the neural modeling lab, casting long, disorienting shadows across the servers. The steady hum of the system—the one Delilah knew as well as her own heartbeat—was now laced with something foreign.
Wrong.
Maris stood calm, unbothered, one hand still on the console, the silver drive plugged in like a blade lodged in the algorithm's chest. She didn't flinch when Delilah took a step forward.
"You don't know what you're doing," Delilah said, voice shaking more from fury than fear. "You think you can steal the core, but it won't respond to you."
Maris turned, amusement flickering across her face. "Oh, I know it won't. Not yet. That's the beauty of it. You didn't just build an algorithm, Delilah. You built a mirror. A map of how you think—how you feel. All I need is enough of that to reverse-engineer the architecture. The rest? I can teach it."
"You'll corrupt it," Delilah growled, moving toward the control panel. "It'll collapse without a behavioral match. You don't understand the cognitive balance it requires—"
"I understand perfectly," Maris cut in. "You made the model too dependent on you. It's brilliant. Dangerous, even. And exactly what your father never wanted."
Delilah froze. "My father...?"
Maris smiled wider. "You think Nathaniel didn't know the risk of letting you lead the neural mapping initiative? Of tying the company's most powerful technology to his daughter's messy, emotional intuition? That's why he fired me—because I said it plainly. You were the flaw in the design."
Delilah's chest tightened. He knew. She tried to force the thought away, but it coiled around her gut like a vice.
"And now," Maris continued, "I get to be the one to correct that flaw. Or... exploit it, depending on how cooperative you are."
On the console, a loading bar ticked toward 71%.
Lucien's voice crackled over the comm: "Delilah, backup teams are en route. Two minutes out. Hold on."
Maris yanked the comm unit from the wall with a single jerk.
"No more lifelines," she said.
Delilah took a deep breath and moved slowly toward the neural interface panel. Her fingers hovered near the emergency isolator—the kill switch. One press, and she could sever the entire cognitive model from the external network. It would save the core from being cloned—but it would also destroy everything not yet backed up.
Months of research. Years of training data. Gone.
"Don't do it," Maris warned, pulling something from her jacket. A sleek black pistol. "You isolate the core, the system dies. You'll never get it back. And neither will anyone else."
Delilah stared her down. "That's the difference between us. You see this as power to control. I see it as something worth protecting."
"Even if it means destroying it?"
Delilah's jaw tightened. "Especially then."
For a second, everything held still—Maris with the gun, Delilah with her hand over the kill switch, and the algorithm—her algorithm—alive between them, its digital pulse trembling with unnatural input.
The bar ticked to 91%.
Then—a sudden hiss of the emergency doors unlocking.
Maris whirled just as Lucien burst through, weapon drawn, eyes locked on the scene. A second behind him, two Langston security officers moved in formation, flanking the lab.
"Step away from the console!" Lucien barked.
Maris pivoted, gun up, eyes flashing. But Delilah didn't hesitate.
She slammed the isolator.
A loud snap echoed through the lab. The consoles went dark. The servers powered down like a massive exhale. The screen displaying the upload froze at 94%—and blinked out.
"NO!" Maris screamed.
The power suppression field flooded the room, locking out all digital signals.
Lucien advanced quickly, disarming her with practiced precision and wrenching her arms behind her back. She fought like someone possessed—until she saw Delilah, still standing over the console, panting, pale, hands trembling.
"You killed it," Maris whispered. "You killed your own creation."
Delilah turned slowly to face her, tears welling—but not of regret.
"No," she said. "I saved what mattered."
The security team cuffed Maris and dragged her from the lab, her threats and curses echoing until the doors sealed behind her.
Lucien stayed behind.
The room was quiet now. All that humming energy was gone. Just silence and the faint scent of burning circuitry.
Delilah leaned against the console, her legs finally giving out beneath her. Lucien caught her before she collapsed completely, holding her steady.
"You did the right thing," he said gently.
She didn't answer.
Because all she could think about was what Maris had said.
Your father knew. He knew what you were building. And he let it happen anyway.
YOU ARE READING
The Algorithm of Us
Romance**She never meant to be seen. He never meant to stay. But something between them refuses to let go.** Delilah Langston has spent her life hidden behind glass walls-brilliant, sheltered, and quietly drowning under the weight of expectation. Shy by na...
