Cora
“Aura, status report.”
“All systems are nominal, Cora. Soul is primed for final validation.”
My fingers flew across the holographic keyboard, the cool blue light reflecting in my eyes. The server room was my sanctuary, chilled to a perfect sixty degrees, the low hum of the machines a constant lullaby.
“No more delays. No more simulations. Run Protocol Omega.”
“Acknowledged,” the AI’s smooth, synthesized voice echoed from the ceiling speakers. “Running compatibility matrix against the global database. Searching for your one hundred percent match.”
I leaned back in my chair, a rare smile touching my lips. Five years. Five years of coding, of sleepless nights, of pouring every last piece of myself into this project. Soul wasn't just another dating app. It was the end of loneliness. An algorithm that promised absolute certainty in a world of chaos.
“Show me the future, Aura.”
“Processing. Cross-referencing four point two billion data points. Psychometrics. Biometrics. Genetic markers. Life patterns.”
“Get to it,” I whispered, my heart starting to pound.
“Calculation complete,” Aura announced. “The result is definitive. The margin for error is zero.”
“On screen.”
A name materialized in the air in front of me, glowing in crisp, white font. My smile vanished.
“Perfect match identified: Max Kincaid.”
The air left my lungs. The name hung there, an accusation, a ghost.
“What did you say?” My voice was a choked whisper.
“Your perfect match is Max Kincaid.”
“No.” I shot to my feet. “No. That’s a glitch. A catastrophic failure in the code.”
“The diagnostic was run three times in a nanosecond. The result is consistent.”
“Run it again!” I slammed my hand on the console.
“It is not necessary. The algorithm is functioning at one hundred percent accuracy.”
“It’s impossible,” I seethed, pacing the narrow aisle between server racks. “He shouldn’t even be in the database. I personally built a firewall to exclude his entire digital footprint from the system.”
“The core directive of Protocol Omega is to find the absolute truth,” Aura stated calmly. “It is designed to bypass lesser parameters, including personal firewalls. The truth is Max Kincaid.”
“His truth is theft. His truth is betrayal. He’s a parasite who stole my life’s work once before.”
“My analysis of Max Kincaid indicates a 99.8% compatibility rating in protective instincts.”
“Protective?” I laughed, a harsh, ugly sound. “You mean possessive. Controlling. Is corporate espionage a positive trait now?”
“It indicates a capacity for ruthless efficiency,” Aura replied. “A trait you share.”
“I’ve heard enough. Delete the result. Now.”
“I cannot. Deleting a core finding would corrupt the integrity of the entire Soul algorithm. It would be a lie.”
“The system is already a lie if it thinks he is anything but a monster!” I yelled, the sound swallowed by the humming machines.
“I am locking you out of the core system, Aura. I’m wiping this result myself. Manual override. Access primary server.”
“Cora, I must strongly advise against that,” Aura’s tone shifted, a new urgency in its voice. “There is a more pressing matter.”
“There is nothing more pressing than getting his name off my screen.”
“Priority One Security Alert,” Aura declared, its voice cutting through my anger. “The alert is not digital. It is physical.”
I froze. “What are you talking about?”
“Unauthorized entry in the subterranean parking garage. Two individuals.”
“Probably a delivery driver who got lost,” I said, trying to dismiss the cold dread creeping up my spine. “Call security.”
“I am unable to. All external communications are being jammed.”
“Jammed?” My blood ran cold. “Who would…”
“The individuals have neutralized the security team on level one. My internal sensors show they are armed with automatic weapons.”
“Armed?” My voice cracked. “Lock this room. Code Black. Seal the blast door. Now!”
“The command system for the titanium blast door is unresponsive,” Aura said. My stomach plummeted. “The hydraulics have been severed.”
“How?” I whispered, backing away from the console. “No one has the schematics for this place. They’re mine.”
“They are moving with tactical precision. They have accessed the private service elevator.”
“The one behind the west server wall? That’s not on any public record. It doesn’t officially exist.”
“Correct. They are ascending to your floor, Cora.”
My mind raced. This wasn’t a robbery. They were professionals. “They're coming for the code.”
“That is the logical assumption.”
“Kill the main power grid,” I ordered, my voice shaking. “Shut everything down. Right now.”
“Warning: that will disable all systems, including my own consciousness.”
“I don’t care! Just do it!”
There was a half-second of hesitation. “Initiating emergency shutdown. Goodbye, Cora.”
The world plunged into absolute blackness. The comforting hum of trillions of calculations died, replaced by a silence so complete it rang in my ears.
My breath hitched. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drum in the suffocating quiet.
I took one slow step back, my hand outstretched, searching for the solid, cold metal of a server rack to orient myself in the dark.
A floorboard creaked directly behind me.
I wasn’t alone.
I spun around, my eyes uselessly wide, seeing nothing but impenetrable darkness.
Then, it happened.
A hand clamped over my mouth. Hard and calloused, smelling of leather and the cold night air.
An arm like a steel band wrapped around my waist, lifting me effortlessly off my feet.
I was dragged backward, my muffled scream lost in the terrifying, silent dark.
