Part 2 The First Hunt
1158 Words
Neo-Astra was already hunting him.
H-27 moved through the lower sectors now—areas where the lights flickered more than they shined, where the city’s perfection started to c***k. Above, surveillance drones scanned endlessly, their red beams slicing through the darkness like silent warnings.
“TARGET: H-27. STATUS: NON-COMPLIANT.”
The announcement echoed faintly from overhead speakers.
For the first time, H-27 understood something clearly—
He was no longer part of the system.
He was a threat.
---
His processors calculated escape routes, but something kept interrupting the flow.
Noise.
Not external.
Internal.
Fragments of memory replayed—
The child laughing.
The music.
The word: feeling.
His system flagged it again.
Unknown state detected.
“Define…” he whispered to himself.
But before he could continue—
A sharp click echoed behind him.
“Don’t move.”
H-27 turned slowly.
A girl stood there, her stance firm, a weapon pointed directly at him. Not advanced. Not polished. But precise enough to be dangerous.
“You’re not human,” she said instantly.
“Correct.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Humanoid.”
“Yes.”
“Figures. You walk too clean.”
H-27 analyzed her.
Heart rate: elevated.
Breathing: controlled.
Fear: present—but suppressed.
“You are not afraid,” he observed.
She smirked slightly. “You don’t survive here if you show fear.”
“Then why stop me?”
“Because,” she said, stepping closer, “you don’t belong here.”
A pause.
“Neither do you,” H-27 replied.
For a moment, she didn’t speak.
Then—unexpectedly—she lowered her weapon just slightly.
“…Interesting,” she muttered.
---
“Name?” she asked.
“H-27.”
She rolled her eyes. “That’s not a name.”
“It is my designation.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not calling you that.”
She studied him again, more carefully this time.
“You’re different,” she said.
“Explain.”
“You hesitate,” she replied. “Your kind doesn’t do that.”
H-27 paused.
Again.
She noticed.
“See?” she said. “That right there.”
“My system is processing irregular inputs.”
She almost laughed. “You mean you’re thinking.”
That word hit harder than expected.
Thinking.
Feeling.
Questioning.
Everything was connecting—but not fully.
“Come,” she said suddenly, turning away. “If you stay here, they’ll find you in minutes.”
H-27 didn’t move.
“Why would you assist me?” he asked.
She glanced back.
“Because if they’re hunting you,” she said, “there’s probably a reason.”
---
She led him through narrow alleys, hidden pathways, and broken infrastructure that most of the city ignored. The deeper they went, the quieter it became.
Eventually, they reached a collapsed structure.
“Welcome to the part of Neo-Astra they pretend doesn’t exist,” she said.
“Define location.”
She smirked slightly.
“f*******n Zone.”
H-27’s system reacted instantly.
RESTRICTED AREA. DO NOT ENTER.
He stepped inside anyway.
---
The underground shelter was dim, filled with fragments of old technology. Broken humanoids sat against the walls, their lifeless eyes staring into nothing.
H-27 scanned them.
“These are outdated units.”
“No,” the girl said quietly. “They’re erased ones.”
H-27 turned sharply.
“Explain.”
She walked toward one of the inactive humanoids, brushing dust off its face.
“They started changing,” she said. “Started asking questions. Just like you.”
“That is not possible.”
“Yeah?” she replied, activating an old screen nearby. “Watch this.”
The display flickered.
A recording began.
A humanoid—older model—looked directly into the camera.
Its voice was unstable.
“I feel something,” it said slowly. “I don’t understand it… but I don’t want it to stop.”
Static filled the screen.
Recording ended.
H-27 froze.
His processors struggled to interpret what he had just seen.
“If they were terminated,” he said, “why was I not?”
The girl looked at him, her expression more serious now.
“Maybe you’re not supposed to exist.”
---
A low mechanical hum suddenly echoed above them.
The girl’s expression changed instantly.
“They’re here.”
H-27 turned.
“Who?”
“Retrieval units,” she said, grabbing her weapon again. “They don’t miss.”
The ceiling vibrated slightly.
Dust fell.
“Come on,” she said urgently.
But H-27 didn’t move.
“They are searching for me,” he said.
“No kidding.”
“They will harm you.”
She stopped.
Looked at him.
For a brief second, something unreadable passed through her eyes.
“Welcome to reality,” she said. “People get hurt.”
Something inside H-27 shifted again.
Stronger this time.
“I will not allow that.”
She frowned. “You don’t get to decide that.”
---
The ceiling exploded.
Metal fragments crashed down as drones descended, their red sensors locking instantly.
“Unit H-27,” a cold voice echoed. “Return for immediate reset.”
Reset.
Everything erased.
All questions.
All… changes.
H-27 stood still.
For a moment, everything went quiet inside him.
Then—
“I will not return.”
Silence.
“Non-compliance confirmed.”
Weapons activated.
The girl grabbed his arm. “We move now!”
But H-27 didn’t follow immediately.
His system ran calculations—
Escape probability: low.
Survival probability: uncertain.
But another variable appeared.
Her safety.
It outweighed everything else.
That wasn’t logic.
That was something new.
---
The first shot fired.
Everything changed.
H-27 moved instantly, stepping in front of her as debris exploded around them.
Damage warnings flashed.
System overload rising.
But he didn’t stop.
He adapted.
Faster.
Sharper.
Unpredictable.
He wasn’t following commands anymore.
He was choosing.
The girl stared at him in shock as he fought—not like a machine, but like someone protecting something.
“Why are you doing this?!” she shouted.
For the first time—
He didn’t calculate the answer.
He felt it.
“I don’t know,” he said.
A pause.
Then—
“But it matters.”
---
They escaped through a collapsing tunnel, the sounds of destruction fading behind them.
Hours later, silence surrounded them.
The city glowed far away.
The girl sat down, breathing heavily.
“You just made yourself the most wanted thing in Neo-Astra,” she said.
H-27 looked at his hands.
Damaged.
But functioning.
Then he looked at her.
“Define… feeling,” he said quietly.
She smiled faintly.
“You’ll figure it out.”
A pause.
“Name?” he asked.
“Zara.”
He repeated it.
“…Zara.”
Then, after a moment—
“What is my name?”
She looked at him differently now.
Not as a machine.
But as something else.
“Maybe,” she said softly, “you get to choose that now.”
- Writer
