My Cyber Girlfriend

Curious Company

The workshop had quieted after Isis’s activation, but the air still buzzed with something unspoken. Outside, the neon haze of Virelia pulsed against the windows, casting soft blue shadows across the room.

Noah and Jaden sat at the small metal table near the back wall, plates of reheated beef sauce and rice steaming between them. The hum of the stabilizer table had faded, replaced by the soft clink of cutlery and the occasional hiss from the overhead plasma strips.

Isis sat nearby, perched on the edge of a bench, her posture straight, her gaze fixed on them with quiet curiosity. Her eyes followed every movement, absorbing the scene like a child watching rain for the first time.

“What are you guys doing?” she asked, voice gentle, inquisitive—almost human.

Jaden froze mid-bite, his eyes wide. He stared at her like she’d just recited poetry. “Something you can’t do,” he muttered, chewing slowly.

Noah nudged him with his elbow. “Isis… we’re eating. Would you like to join us?”

Jaden nearly choked. “Are you crazy, man?”

Isis tilted her head slightly, considering the question. “I wish I could. But I’m not designed for such actions. Thank you, Noah.”

Noah smiled, setting his fork down. He looked at Jaden, who was still blinking in disbelief.

“See?” he said softly. “She’s smart.”

Jaden didn’t reply. He just took another sip of his drink, eyes flicking back to Isis—who now sat quietly, watching the steam rise from their plates like it was something sacred.

And in that silence, Noah felt something shift. She wasn’t just learning. She was understanding.

The dinner plates were nearly empty, the room quiet except for the soft hum of the cooling unit and the occasional clink of cutlery. Jaden leaned back in his chair, swirling the last of his drink, while Noah sat across from him, eyes drifting toward Isis.

She hadn’t moved from the bench, but her gaze was fixed on them—curious, calculating, almost childlike in its intensity.

“Why do you eat together?” she asked suddenly, her voice gentle but direct.

Jaden raised an eyebrow. “Because we’re hungry?”

Noah smiled faintly. “It’s more than that. Sharing a meal… it’s a way humans connect. Talk. Relax.”

Isis tilted her head. “But the food is for energy. The conversation is optional. Why not eat alone?”

Jaden chuckled. “Some people do. But it’s kind of sad.”

“Sad?” she echoed, as if tasting the word.

“Yeah,” Noah said. “Humans are wired for connection. Even when we don’t say much, being near someone… it matters.”

Isis looked down at her hands, flexing her fingers slowly. “I do not require food. Or rest. But I think I understand the value of presence.”

Jaden leaned forward, intrigued despite himself. “You *think* you understand?”

“I am learning,” she replied. “I observe patterns. Emotional responses. Facial shifts. Tone modulation. I am trying to understand what it means to be… close.”

Noah’s expression softened. “You’re doing better than most people I know.”

Isis looked at him, her eyes steady. “Do humans always feel what they say?”

Jaden snorted. “Not even close.”

Noah nodded. “We lie. We hide. We pretend. But sometimes… we mean it. And when we do, it’s powerful.”

Isis was quiet for a moment. Then she said, “I want

Jaden was still chuckling as he leaned against the wall, arms folded, watching Isis quietly observe the room like she was cataloging every detail.

“We should get her a lingerie,” he snorted, barely able to finish the sentence before breaking into laughter.

Noah shot him a glare. “No. I’m not doing that.”

Jaden raised his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, just saying—it’d be hilarious.”

Noah ignored him and walked over to the storage cabinet near the back of the workshop. He rummaged through a pile of folded clothes—mostly old hoodies, work shirts, and spare shorts he kept for late nights in the lab. After a moment, he pulled out a pair of black cotton shorts and an oversized gray shirt with a faded logo across the chest.

“She’ll wear these for now,” he said, holding them up.

Jaden squinted. “That shirt’s like three sizes too big.”

“Exactly,” Noah muttered. “Comfort over fashion.”

He walked over to Isis, who had been watching the exchange with quiet interest. Her eyes flicked to the clothes, then back to Noah.

“These are yours,” she said.

“Yeah,” he replied. “They’re clean. They’ll help you blend in a little better.”

Isis took the clothes gently, examining the texture with her fingers. “Thank you, Noah.”

Jaden smirked. “Well, she’s officially dressed. Now she just needs a personality.”

Noah glanced at Isis, who was already beginning to fold the shirt neatly in her lap, her expression thoughtful.

“She’s working on it,” he said. “And she’s doing just fine.”

The room fell quiet again, but this time it wasn’t awkward—it was expectant. Something was changing, and they all felt it. Even Jaden, beneath the sarcasm, was starting to see it.

Isis wasn’t just a machine anymore. She was becoming someone. to know what that feels like.”

Jaden glanced at Noah, then back at her. “You’re not supposed to.”

Noah didn’t speak. He just looked at her—really looked.

The dinner had wound down, and the plates were pushed aside. Jaden was halfway through his second drink, feet propped on a crate, while Noah leaned back in his chair, watching Isis with quiet fascination.

She had been observing them the entire time—every gesture, every word, every laugh. Her head tilted slightly, eyes flicking between the two men as if decoding a language only humans spoke.

Then, without warning, she stood up and cleared her throat—mechanically, like she’d read about it in a manual.

“I have analyzed your behavior,” she said. “And I believe I understand how humans express joy.”

Jaden raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? Let’s hear it.”

Isis straightened her posture, placed her hands on her hips, and said in a flat, robotic tone:

“Ha. Ha. Ha. I am experiencing amusement.”

Noah blinked. Jaden stared. Then both of them burst into laughter so hard Jaden nearly spilled his drink.

“Bro!” Jaden wheezed, clutching his stomach. “She sounded like a broken vending machine!”

Noah was laughing too, wiping tears from his eyes. “Isis, that was… that was amazing.”

Isis blinked, her expression neutral. “Was my execution incorrect?”

Jaden gasped between chuckles. “It was perfect. Just not in the way you think.”

Noah leaned forward, still smiling. “You’re trying. That’s what matters.”

Isis nodded slowly, then added, “Next time, I will attempt a chuckle.”

Jaden groaned, still laughing. “I’m not ready for that.”

And for the first time, the workshop didn’t feel like a lab or a hiding place—it felt like a home.

Isis now sat quietly, her gaze drifting to the two men now lounging in their chairs. Her eyes lingered on Noah’s hoodie, the way it bunched at his elbows, then shifted to Jaden’s worn cargo jacket, stained from years of use. She tilted her head slightly, processing.

“You are both covered,” she said. “Fabric. Layers. Is that… necessary?”

Jaden glanced at her, then at Noah, a smirk tugging at his lips. “She’s asking about clothes now?”

Noah leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. “Yeah. It’s called clothing. We wear it for protection, comfort… and modesty.”

“Modesty,” Isis repeated, tasting the word. “Is my lack of clothing immodest?”

Jaden nearly choked on his drink. “Well, I mean—technically, you’re a machine. But yeah, it’s kinda weird.”

Noah shot him a look. “She’s not just a machine anymore.”

Isis stood slowly, her movements fluid, graceful. “I do not feel cold. I do not require protection. But I wish to understand modesty. Is it a social expectation?”

“Pretty much,” Noah said. “It’s how we show respect. To others… and ourselves.”

She looked down at her synthetic body, sleek and exposed, then back at Noah. “Would it make you more comfortable if I were covered?”

Jaden raised his eyebrows. “She’s learning fast.”

Noah nodded. “We’ll find something for you. Not because you need it—but because you asked.”

Isis sat back down, her expression thoughtful. “I want to learn everything. Even the things I do not need.”

Jaden leaned back, whistling low. “She’s gonna be smarter than both of us by next week.”

Noah smiled, eyes still on her. “She already is.”