The next day, he left the food on the cot instead of the floor.
404 blinked at it, then looked at 09.
A small shift.
But it felt… intentional.
09 didn’t meet his gaze. He just stood there, unreadable as ever, arms crossed like he didn’t quite trust himself to move.
404 hesitated, then sat on the cot and began eating — slowly, more aware of himself than usual.
For once, 09 didn’t leave right away.
Minutes passed.
Then, without a word, he crouched near the wall and began adjusting a damaged circuit panel. Wires sparked softly as he worked — swift and precise, like he wasn’t just repairing it… but needed something to do with his hands.
404 watched him.
Not just the way he moved — but the tension in his shoulders, the careful way he avoided looking back. He wasn’t used to being watched.
And 404 wasn’t used to watching someone with this much... focus.
“Why can’t you talk to me?” 404 asked finally.
No answer. Just sparks.
He tried again. “Are you protecting me?”
Slight pause.
Then 09 murmured, “That’s not what I was built for.”
Another silence.
404 set the food down and stood.
He took one small step closer. Just one.
09 didn’t move.
404 whispered, “But you’re doing it anyway.”
Something flickered in 09’s expression. A twitch of the jaw. A blink too long.
Then: “I’m making a mistake.”
404 tilted his head. “Then why haven’t you left?”
He didn’t expect an answer.
And he didn’t get one.
But 09 stood. Turned. Walked toward the door.
Just before stepping out, he glanced back — just once.
Their eyes met.
404’s chest stuttered.
There was something in 09’s gaze he couldn’t decode — something half-buried, unspoken.
And it stayed with him long after the door shut.
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...
