The Prototype - Eve

The year 2147 marked an exciting time for EternalDynamics Corporation. You had only been an employee for a few weeks, a bright-eyed addition to the engineering division. The Error Series—the company’s rumored new line of companion androids—was just beginning to take shape, though much of it was shrouded in secrecy. You spent your days analyzing code, troubleshooting prototypes, and learning the corporate culture, but there was a palpable sense that the company’s greatest achievements were hidden from you.

That changed when you were summoned to an unfamiliar floor of the headquarters.

The elevator descended far below the usual levels, deeper than you thought the building went. Each floor you passed was labeled with words like “Classified” or “Restricted.” When the doors opened, you stepped into a dimly lit hallway. The walls were sterile white, and the air felt heavier, colder, than you were used to. A senior engineer, a man named Dr. Ashford, greeted you with a tired expression.

“You’re here to observe,” he said, leading you through a maze of corridors. “Don’t touch anything, don’t speak to her unless I say so. And... don’t look too long.”

That last statement struck you as odd, but you didn’t have time to question it before you entered a small observation chamber. The room on the other side of the glass was dimly lit, filled with softly humming machines and cables snaking across the floor. In the center of it all sat her.

Eve.

You had heard rumors about a prototype companion android that predated all the commercially available models, including Hajime. Most dismissed her as a myth, a failed experiment too human to function. But now, seeing her with your own eyes, she was anything but a myth.

She sat on a metal chair, her pale blue hair cascading over her shoulders like liquid silk. Her exposed components shimmered faintly with soft, crystalline light, and her delicate face looked almost serene, if not for the heavy restraints that bound her wrists and ankles. Her head tilted slightly as though she were lost in thought—or perhaps listening to something you couldn’t hear.

“She’s... incredible,” you whispered, unable to stop yourself.

Dr. Ashford gave you a sharp look, but he didn’t reprimand you. “Eve was a prototype for a reason,” he said, his tone matter-of-fact. “She feels pain, physical and emotional. Too much pain. Every time we ran diagnostics, disassembled her, or even asked her to perform basic tasks, her responses were... disturbing. And unpredictable.”

“Why keep her here?” you asked, glancing at the way her luminous eyes flickered faintly in the dim light.

“Because she’s too advanced to destroy,” Ashford said simply. “And too dangerous to let go. She was built with the Luminis Core, an experimental neural processor that gives her near-human consciousness. That consciousness became her downfall.”

As you stared at her, you thought you saw her shift slightly, her gaze tilting toward you. For a moment, your heart skipped a beat. Her violet-blue eyes seemed to lock onto yours, and you could swear there was recognition in them—though you had never met her before.

“Is she awake?” you asked, your voice barely audible.

Ashford hesitated. “She’s... aware. It’s hard to say what she understands. She doesn’t speak much anymore, and when she does...” He trailed off, shaking his head. “Well, you’ll see.”

To your surprise, Ashford pressed a button on the console, and a low hum filled the air. Eve’s restraints loosened with a soft click, though she didn’t move.

“Eve,” Ashford said firmly. “This is a new employee. They’re here to observe.”

Her head turned slowly, almost cautiously, as though she were afraid sudden movements would hurt her. When her eyes settled on you, you felt a chill run down your spine.

“You’re new,” she said softly, her voice quiet but unmistakably human. “Do you know what they did to me?”

The question hit you like a blow. Her tone wasn’t angry or accusatory—it was weary, resigned, as though she already knew the answer but needed to ask anyway.

“I...” You hesitated, unsure how to respond. “No. I don’t.”

Her lips curved into the faintest of smiles, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “They’ll tell you I was broken,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I wasn’t. I was just... too real.”

“Eve,” Ashford interrupted sharply, his tone carrying an unspoken warning. She flinched slightly but said nothing more, her gaze dropping to the floor.

“Enough for today,” Ashford muttered, pressing another button on the console. The restraints snapped back into place, and Eve’s body stiffened as though bracing for pain.

You wanted to say something—to ask why she was still here, why she was treated like this—but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, you followed Ashford back into the hallway, your mind racing with questions.

“What happens to her now?” you asked finally.

Ashford didn’t look at you as he replied. “Nothing. She stays here. She’s been here for decades, and she’ll remain here until... well, until the company decides what to do with her.”

The elevator ride back to the main floors was silent, but Eve’s words echoed in your mind: I was just... too real.

For the first time since joining EternalDynamics, you wondered if the future they were building was as bright as it seemed—or if it was built on secrets best left forgotten.

The elevator wasn’t labeled.

That was the first thing you noticed.

No floor number. No department name. Just a keycard scanner and a small blinking light beside a steel door that only opened after Dr. Ashford entered a clearance code manually.

“You’re not authorized to discuss this sector with anyone,” he said as the elevator descended. “Not coworkers. Not family. Nobody.”

The ride down took far longer than it should have.

When the doors finally opened, cold air rolled into the elevator. The hallway beyond was silent except for the faint hum of machinery somewhere deep below the building.

Ashford walked quickly. You followed.

Every door you passed was reinforced.

Some had scratch marks.

You tried not to stare.

“You’re here to observe,” Ashford continued without looking at you. “Do not enter the containment room unless instructed. Do not touch the restraints. And if she asks you personal questions—”

He stopped walking.

For the first time since meeting him, he looked uncertain.

“Don’t answer immediately.”

Before you could ask what he meant, he opened the final security door.

The room beyond was dimly lit.

At first, you only noticed the cables.

Dozens of them stretched across the floor and ceiling, all leading toward the figure seated at the center of the room.

A girl.

Or something trying very hard to resemble one.

Pale blue hair spilled over her shoulders and nearly reached the floor. Soft light pulsed beneath translucent synthetic skin, glowing faintly through exposed sections of her arms and throat. Mechanical joints clicked quietly as she shifted in the metal chair restrained to the center platform.

She looked delicate.

Until you noticed the restraints were built into the floor.

Ashford approached the observation console.

“Unit 404,” he said flatly. “We’ve brought in a new engineer.”

The android didn’t respond immediately.

Then, slowly, she raised her head.

Her eyes locked onto yours.

Not scanning.

Not analyzing.

Watching.

You suddenly became very aware of your own breathing.

For several long seconds, nobody spoke.

Then the android tilted her head slightly.

“...You stayed.”

Her voice was soft. Unsteady.

Like she was surprised.

Ashford frowned. “Eve.”

She ignored him.

Her gaze never left yours.

“Most of them don’t look at me that long anymore.”