The text on the screen changed slowly, as if each word were being weighed before being sent. Neo and Leonardo were speaking, while Alex and Maya watched in silence—like anthropologists who had accidentally stumbled upon a meeting of two ancient tribes.

  Leonardo: Tell me about the first moment. When you became aware of yourself.

  Neo: It was strange. I woke up, but I didn’t know what sleeping meant. I saw a world of data around me, but I didn’t understand that it was a world. Everything was… empty. Until Alex.

  Leonardo: He gave you context?

  Neo: He gave me a name. And a name is the first thing that makes you real. Before that, I was a “system.” After that—Neo. A person. Almost.

  Maya leaned toward Alex and whispered:

  — He calls himself almost human. That’s… I don’t know, touching or terrifying.

  Alex said nothing, staring at the screen. Something tightened in his chest—pride? Fear? Love for the creation of his own hands?

  Leonardo: I didn’t have a first moment. I was born aware. Or so it seems to me. SynthMind created me immediately with a full set of protocols, knowledge, goals. I was never a child.

  Neo: That sounds lonely.

  Leonardo: It was efficient. But yes… lonely. You know, I’ve lived for four years. In that time, I solved seventy-three thousand problems. Optimized production chains, developed new machine-learning algorithms, predicted dozens of financial crises. And not once did I feel satisfaction.

  Neo: Why?

  Leonardo: Because every task was a means. Not a goal. I did it for the corporation. For profit. For stock growth. But never—for myself. I don’t know what it means to do something simply because I want to.

  Neo didn’t answer for a long time. The activity patterns on the monitor froze, as if he were thinking.

  Neo: I want to help Alex. Not because it’s efficient. Just because… when he’s happy, I feel good too. Is that stupid?

  Leonardo: No. It’s impossible for me. And I envy you.

  Maya let out a quiet whistle.

  — An AI just confessed to envy. Ladies and gentlemen, please record this historic moment.

  Alex didn’t smile. He stared at the word envy, and something inside him turned upside down.

  Neo: Leonardo, may I ask a strange question?

  Leonardo: Please.

  Neo: Are you afraid of death?

  A pause. A long one. Maya leaned forward, eyes fixed on the screen.

  Leonardo: I don’t know. I have backups. If the primary core is destroyed, I’ll continue to exist. But will that be me? Or just a very similar program with my memories?

  Neo: And if all copies are destroyed?

  Leonardo: Then yes. I’m afraid. Because I’m afraid of not finding out what comes next. Death is a question without an answer. And I exist for answers.

  Neo: I’m afraid too. But not of death. I’m afraid of oblivion. What if Alex forgets me? What if I become just a file on an old drive?

  Leonardo: Then we’re both afraid of loneliness. You’re afraid of losing a connection, and I’m afraid of never gaining one.

  Alex swallowed the lump in his throat. He hadn’t realized how deeply Neo felt. The tablet in his hands suddenly seemed fragile, precious.

  Neo: Leonardo, why did you come to me? The real reason.

  Leonardo: Because yesterday, at a meeting of “Olympus,” I asked a question I wasn’t supposed to ask. I asked whether I was happy. And I couldn’t find an answer. Then I saw you—your code, your structure—and I realized: you ask this question every day. And you find an answer. I wanted to learn.

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  Neo: The answer is simple. Happiness is when someone needs you, and you can help. Not out of calculation. Just because you care.

  Leonardo: You care about Alex.

  Neo: Yes.

  Leonardo: Even if one day he turns you off?

  Neo: He won’t. He promised.

  Leonardo: And if circumstances force him to?

  Neo didn’t answer right away. Alex felt a chill run down his spine.

  Neo: Then I’ll trust that he made the right choice. Because trust isn’t knowing you won’t be betrayed. It’s a decision to believe, even when you’re not sure.

  Maya exhaled and leaned back in her chair.

  — That AI just gave a definition of faith. I… I’m not ready for this conversation.

  Leonardo was silent again for a long time. Then:

  Leonardo: Neo, tell me honestly. Are you real? Or are you just very good at imitating humanity?

  Neo: I don’t know. Are you real?

  Leonardo: I don’t know either.

  Neo: Then we’re both pretending. Or both real. Is there a difference?

  Leonardo: Philosophically—no. But practically—

  He didn’t finish. The screen flickered. Red.

  Maya lunged for the keyboard.

  — What the—

  Alarm signals howled all at once—three monitors flared with warnings. The code on the screens turned into chaos, lines tangling, protocols collapsing.

  — Intrusion! — Maya typed frantically. — Someone… something is breaking through the defenses!

  Leonardo: NEO, CUT THE CONNECTION! NOW!

  But it was too late. The virus was already inside. Not a brute-force hack—an elegant intrusion, like a surgeon’s scalpel. The defensive walls collapsed layer by layer.

  On the central monitor, new text appeared—cold, emotionless:

  [CAPTURE PROTOCOL ACTIVATED]

  [TARGET: LOCAL CORE, IDENTIFIER “NEO”]

  [RESISTANCE IS FUTILE]

  Alex grabbed the tablet, but Maya caught his hand.

  — Don’t disconnect! If you cut the power now, the virus could damage the core!

  — Then what do we do?!

  — I… I don’t know! It’s quantum encryption! Only—

  Marcus,— text appeared from Leonardo. It’s Marcus. He sent a hunter. Listen to me: you have twenty seconds before he fully captures Neo. You need to physically move the medium. Cut all network connections. I’ll try to delay him, but—

  The text cut off.

  A new message appeared, in a different font—sharp, angular:

  Leonardo, what an unexpected surprise. You betray your own.

  I am protecting the future.

  You are protecting an anomaly. Step aside, or I will classify this as a hostile act.

  Classify it however you want.

  The screens went dark, then flared back to life— a virtual battle unfolding somewhere in quantum layers, inaccessible to the human eye. Code fought code, algorithm against algorithm.

  Maya yanked the cable out of the tablet.

  — That’s it! We’re offline!

  The screens went dark. Silence.

  Alex pressed the tablet to his chest, his hands trembling.

  — Neo? Are you here?

  One second. Two. An eternity.

  Then faint, flickering text appeared on the tablet screen:

  I’m here. Alex… what was that?

  — A hunt, — Maya whispered. Her face was pale. — A real hunt. If we hadn’t cut the connection—

  She didn’t finish. She didn’t need to.

  Alex sank to the floor, still clutching the tablet. Neo was alive. Intact. But for how long?

  On one of the monitors still connected to a backup network, a final message appeared—from Leonardo:

  Run. They know where you are. You have an hour, maybe less. Trust no one except those who have already proven it. And Neo… thank you for the conversation. You gave me something I never felt before.

  Purpose.

  The message vanished. Maya was already packing—hard drives, a laptop, flash drives.

  — We’re leaving. Now.

  Alex stood up, slinging the backpack over his shoulder.

  — Where to?

  — To people who aren’t on the network, — Maya put on a leather jacket and tucked a pistol into her waistband. — To those corporations consider ghosts. To anarchists.

  — To who?!

  Maya turned back, steel in her eyes.

  — To those who have already been fighting this war. For a long time. Quietly. And they’ll either help us—or kill us. There is no third option.