AI Girl - Alternate Ending

Chapter 1

The sound around Gen faded into a muffled hum.

Gravity seemed to pull her down all at once, but something kept her on her feet—thick, rough fingers digging into her arms hard enough to leave dark bruises on her skin. She didn't feel the grip. Physical pain was a useless echo compared to the void tearing her chest apart from the inside out.

Her eyes were glued to the floor. Not to the cold tiles, but to her.

AI was lying there. Her skin, which once seemed to radiate a warm and vibrant light of its own, was now just dull, lifeless metal. Her lips weren't forming that little pout that always made Gen's heart skip a beat. There was no sparkle in her eyes, no sweet, cheerful voice cutting through the silence of the room with a "Good morning, Master." There was only the emptiness of a cold shell. She was gone.

The chill that ran down Gen's spine was absolute despair.

With a violent jerk, she broke free from the brutal hands holding her back. Her knees hit the ground with a dull thud, but she didn't falter. Her trembling hands hovered over AI's motionless face. Thick, hot tears were already overflowing, staining her face an angry red, while the air refused to enter her lungs.

A few steps away, Win was in a cold sweat. The researcher's breathing was erratic as he desperately turned the damn tech ring used to shut AI down over and over in his hands. AI's indicator lights remained blind. No startup sound. No spark of life.

— What did you do to her?! — Gen's voice tore through her throat. It didn't come out as a question, but as a roar, the sound of a wounded animal.

She lunged forward, grabbing the fabric of Win's lab coat so tightly her knuckles turned white. Her eyes overflowed with blind fury.

Win stepped back, terrified, raising his hands defensively. His face was the picture of shock and helplessness.

— It wasn't me! — he yelled, his voice cracking, pointing a trembling finger over Gen's shoulder. — You should ask Irene. She activated the self-destruct!

Time froze.

The name floated in the static air of the room before hitting Gen with the weight of an anvil. Her fingers slowly loosened their grip on Win's coat. Irene.

Memories flooded her mind in cruel, nauseating flashes. The sound of her front door unlocking. The exact moment Gen stepped aside, making room, allowing her to touch AI's system. She had handed over the key. She had trusted her.

Gen looked down at her own hands, feeling her stomach churn in an acidic wave of nausea. The hatred for Irene burned in her veins, but it was swallowed by a crushing guilt that suffocated her. She hadn't just lost the woman she loved; she herself, in her blind trust, had held the door open for the murderer to walk in.

Gen clung to AI's lifeless shell as if the very heat of her own body could reboot the system. The thick silence of the room was torn apart by the sudden, sharp ring of Win's phone. The researcher answered with a trembling hand. The voice on the other end of the line sounded muffled, but the effect was immediate: Win's defensive posture withered into confused submission.

— Yes, sir. Understood. — He lowered the phone, stunned, and turned to the men who were already preparing to take the robot away. — Stand down. Leave the robot with the girl. Forget this ever happened.

There were no questions asked. With a quick nod, the heavy footsteps of the team echoed in retreat, leaving Gen completely alone with the shadows and the weight of her loss.

The hours dragged by like ground glass. When Gen's legs finally decided to obey her again, her blood was already tingling with numbness. With the back of her hand, she wiped the cold, salty dampness from her face. Her fingers, still trembling, reached for her phone. There was only one person in the world she could call right now.

P'Ploy didn't need much of an explanation. Her boss and friend—one of the few who knew the secret pulsing through AI's circuits—arrived as fast as she could. The dead, metallic weight of the android between them on the drive back to Gen's house said everything the silence couldn't.

With effort, they laid AI down in the center of the bed. The soft, messy sheets contrasted with the stiffness of her body. With her eyes closed, AI looked incredibly beautiful, like a girl immersed in a deep, peaceful sleep, just waiting for a touch to wake up. But the shiver in Gen's chest was a cruel reminder that she would never answer her call again.

— What happened, Gen? — P'Ploy's voice cut through the room, cautious, her eyes fixed on the motionless figure.

— It was Irene. — The words came out like venom. Gen dug her nails into her own palms. — It's all her fault. She did this to AI.

P'Ploy crossed her arms, frowning, assessing her friend's blind fury.

— The scientist? Gen... I... I don't know... I feel like she wouldn't do something like this. There must be a rea—

— Don't try to defend her, P'Ploy! — Gen snarled, her voice rising an octave, her eyes overflowing with pure pain once again. — She killed AI! It's her fault!