He waited again.
Back against the cold wall, knees drawn to his chest, eyes fixed on the locked door like it owed him answers. The silence felt heavier today — thicker. Like something was pressing against his chest.
The door creaked open.
Steel boots. Neutral face. Silver tray.
09.
He moved like a program running a command. Place food. Glance at the subject. Exit.
But this time, as he turned to leave, 404 stood.
"Wait."
The word felt foreign on his tongue. It cracked in the air like thunder in a dry sky.
09 froze.
His back was still turned. One hand on the door, still half-open.
But he didn’t leave.
Encouraged, 404 stepped closer. "Why are you helping me?"
Silence.
Just the hum of machines and the soft exhale from 09’s nostrils. He didn’t turn around. Didn’t speak.
404 swallowed. “Do you know who I am?”
A pause.
Then, slowly — not with words, but with movement — 09 turned his head slightly, just enough for 404 to see the line of his jaw tighten.
"I can't answer any of that," 09 said, voice low. Crisp. Almost regretful.
That was all.
He stepped out, shut the door, and locked it.
But this time, he lingered a moment longer on the other side — 404 could hear the breath he held. Then footsteps, retreating.
404 sat back down, heart thudding.
He didn’t get answers.
But he got something else.
A voice.
A crack in the wall.
And it was enough to keep him awake all night, wondering what it meant.
YOU ARE READING
INPUT REJECTED
Science FictionHe woke up in a scrap chamber - no name, no memories, no identity. Just a flickering message on his wrist: "INPUT REJECTED." In the cybernetic city of SYNAXIS, where every soul is scanned, sorted, and assigned a function by the all-seeing AI ARG0, h...
