***
[REPORT FILE: X-02]
DATE: [REDACTED]
SUBJECT: Neural Irregularities & Behavioral Monitoring
OBJECTIVES:
1. Analyze anomalous cognitive activity detected in Subject X-02 during inactive hours.
2. Determine if residual memory retention affects neural conditioning stability.
3. Establish reinforced observation protocols while maintaining A-01 as the primary focus.
4. Ensure compliance mechanisms remain functional and unaltered.
---
[BEGIN TRANSCRIPTION]
Lead Scientist: "We've noted irregular neural activity in X-02 outside of operational hours. It's subtle, but it suggests some form of cognitive persistence."
Researcher 1: "Residual memory spikes? That shouldn't be possible with his conditioning. His resets are regular and efficient."
Researcher 2: "Not entirely. We've assumed full erasure post-mission, but these readings indicate something remains. A framework, perhaps. Something he's holding onto."
Lead Scientist: "Regardless, X-02 is not the priority. His power is formidable, but it does not pose an immediate existential risk like A-01's. Controlling her without failure remains our top directive."
Researcher 1: "Then what do we do about him? His efficiency is unchanged, but if he is retaining memories—"
Lead Scientist: "We continue observation. If his compliance falters, we recalibrate. For now, we monitor."
[END TRANSCRIPTION]
---
Caleb woke to the familiar sterile cold of his confinement pod. The faint hum of the facility surrounded him, its monotonous rhythm unchanging, indifferent. His system activated gradually, restoring his awareness in incremental pulses. He turned his head. Beyond the reinforced glass, Mira remained unmoving, suspended in her pod.
She never woke.
He exhaled, a whisper of condensation forming against the barrier between them. "You should be awake by now," he murmured, his voice quiet, a ripple in the suffocating stillness. "I keep thinking... about that one time. The desert mission. It was miserable, but there was that moment. You probably don't remember it. We stopped just for a second, and I found this tiny fruit in the sand. It wasn't much, but I gave it to one of the soldiers. He laughed—said he hadn't tasted anything fresh in years. I wonder if you ever had the chance to do something like that."
His fingers brushed the glass, his gaze fixed on her as if sheer will alone could stir her from her forced dormancy. He swallowed the thought before it could root itself too deep. He wasn't allowed to dwell. Not for long.
The system's hold on him was absolute—except for these stolen minutes. A loophole he had carved into himself, unseen, unnoticed. A few minutes of will, then the override resumed, pulling him back into silent compliance.
His breathing slowed. The weight of imposed stillness pressed against his mind, dulling his senses, dragging him into forced rest.
"Good night, Mira," he murmured before everything faded to black.