I’M SORRY I AM NOT A ROBOT

The first thing Ethan Cross heard every morning was not birds. Not the wind. Not even his own breathing. It was the vibration on his wrist. A sharp pulse. Then another. Then another. His eyes opened immediately. For a moment, he stared at the ceiling above him. White. Perfect. Expensive. Empty. The room was silent except for the faint electronic buzz coming from his smartwatch. Ethan slowly lifted his arm. The screen glowed red in the darkness. LUPINE HYPERSENSITIVITY SYNDROME ALERT Heart Rate: 118 BPM Respiration: Elevated Stress Hormones: High Risk Level: Moderate Ethan sighed. "Good morning to you too." The watch responded in its usual calm voice. "No external werewolf signatures detected within five hundred meters." Ethan sat up. That should have reassured him. It didn't. It never did. He pushed the blanket aside and walked toward the massive glass windows overlooking the city. The sun had not fully risen yet. The streets below were beginning to wake up. Cars. Lights. People. Normal lives. Lives that didn't revolve around fear. Lives that didn't require medical devices just to tell them whether they were safe. His reflection stared back at him in the glass. Twenty-six years old. Owner of Cross Dynamics. One of the youngest CEOs in the country. A billionaire. Successful. Respected. Alone. The last word lingered longer than the others. Alone. The mansion behind him felt too large. Every room echoed. Every hallway reminded him that nobody lived there except him. Sometimes he would walk through entire sections of the house just to hear another sound besides his own footsteps. Pathetic. He hated admitting that. His phone buzzed. A notification appeared. Scheduled Delivery Confirmed. NeuroDyn Robotics. Estimated Arrival: 09:00 AM. Ethan looked at it for several seconds. The robot. After months of consideration, he had finally ordered one. Not because he wanted company. At least that was what he told himself. He simply needed efficiency. That was all. Nothing more. Humans disappointed people. Machines didn't. Machines followed instructions. Machines stayed. Machines couldn't betray you. His jaw tightened. Betrayal. The word always dragged memories behind it. A flash of red. A scream. His father's voice. The sound of laughter. Werewolves laughing. Ethan immediately looked away from the glass. His heart rate jumped. The watch vibrated again. Heart Rate: 127 BPM "Memory-induced response detected." "Shut up," Ethan muttered. The watch fell silent. He walked into the bathroom and splashed cold water on his face. When he looked up again, he saw the same thing he always saw. A man trying very hard not to become the frightened child he used to be. The child hiding behind a couch. The child watching his father die. The child hearing monsters laugh. The child they had decided to spare. Why? That question had haunted him for seventeen years. Why kill his father and leave him alive? Why? No answer ever came. Only nightmares. He got dressed and headed downstairs. The mansion staff had been dismissed years ago. Too many strangers. Too many risks. Too many opportunities for something to go wrong. So he did most things himself. Breakfast. Scheduling. Meetings. Everything. His assistant worked remotely. The fewer people around him, the better. At exactly 8:57 AM, the front gate camera appeared on his tablet. The delivery truck had arrived. Right on time. Ethan walked toward the entrance hall. The truck doors opened. Four men stepped out. They carefully unloaded a large metal container. One of them approached. "Mr. Cross?" Ethan nodded. "Your unit is ready for activation." "Good." The technician smiled nervously. "She's our most advanced model." She. Interesting. Ethan hadn't expected them to use that word. The container was rolled into the center of the hall. The technicians began entering commands into their tablets. Mechanical locks released. Hydraulic seals hissed. Then the container slowly opened. Ethan folded his arms. He wasn't excited. Or at least he didn't think he was. Yet he found himself staring. Waiting. The interior lights activated. And the figure inside became visible. A woman. Or something that looked exactly like one. Long dark hair. Pale skin. Perfect posture. Perfect symmetry. Too perfect. Artificial perfection. The lead technician pressed the final command. The figure opened her eyes. Blue light flickered briefly. Then disappeared. She stepped forward. Smooth. Graceful. Elegant. "System online." Her voice was soft. Pleasant. Human enough to be comforting. Artificial enough to be safe. "Hello, Master Ethan." Ethan frowned immediately. "Don't call me that." The figure blinked. "Correction accepted." A brief pause. "Preferred form of address?" "Ethan." "Understood." For some reason, hearing his name from her sounded strange. Not unpleasant. Just strange. The technicians looked relieved. Everything appeared to be working perfectly. The lead technician smiled. "Would you like to test her emotional simulation modes?" Ethan raised an eyebrow. "Emotional simulation?" "Yes. She can imitate various social behaviors to improve interaction quality." Ethan looked back at the robot. She was watching him. Not moving. Not blinking much. Waiting. He felt oddly uncomfortable. As if all her attention belonged to him. "No need." The technician looked surprised. "But most clients—" "I said no." The technician quickly nodded. "Of course." The paperwork was completed. The technicians left. The truck disappeared beyond the gate. And suddenly the mansion felt very quiet. Just Ethan. And the robot. The robot stood exactly where she had been left. Motionless. Waiting. Ethan glanced at her. "You can stop staring." "I was awaiting further instructions." Something about the answer almost made him smile. Almost. "Fine." He walked toward the living room. The robot followed. Exactly three steps behind him. Not two. Not four. Three. He noticed immediately. A machine following programming. Good. Predictable. Safe. He sat down. She remained standing. Silence filled the room. Then the smartwatch on his wrist vibrated. Once. Ethan looked down. His expression changed. Unknown Biological Signature Detected. His stomach tightened. Slowly. Very slowly. He stood up. "What?" The watch continued scanning. Unknown Biological Signature Detected. Source Location: Property Interior. Ethan's pulse increased immediately. "No." That was impossible. The house had been scanned. Secured. Protected. The watch vibrated again. Heart Rate: 132 BPM Risk Level: Rising Ethan looked around the room. Nothing. No one. Only him. And— His eyes stopped. The robot. Standing quietly near the window. Watching him. The watch flashed red. Signature Reacquired. Probability Match: Lupine Genetic Structure. 71%. Ethan froze. Every muscle in his body locked. His breathing became shallow. Impossible. Absolutely impossible. Slowly, he turned toward her. The robot tilted her head slightly. "Ethan?" For the first time since arriving, her voice sounded different. Warmer. Softer. Almost concerned. And then the smartwatch screamed. WARNING. WARNING. WARNING. LUPINE-RELATED SIGNATURE CONFIRMED. Ethan stared at her. The robot stared back. Neither of them moved. And somewhere deep inside him, buried beneath seventeen years of fear and hatred, something whispered a terrifying possibility. What if the danger wasn't outside the mansion? What if it had just been delivered to his front door?