Chapter 1
Third Person POV
The room was dim and quiet, save for the soft rhythm of two little boys breathing in sync. Twin brothers, nestled under a shared cotton blanket, lay side by side. The early sunlight filtered through the cracks in the old blinds, slipping across the face of the older twin.
The light crept upward, brushing his cheeks and causing his eyelids to twitch. Slowly, the older boy stirred, his small hand stretching out from beneath the covers in a lazy arc. A yawn escaped him as his eyes blinked open, adjusting to the soft morning glow.
Shane.
He turned his head, a gentle rustle of the sheets following. There, beside him, was his younger twin—still fast asleep, features calm, mouth slightly open as he mumbled unintelligible words in his dreams. Shane stared for a moment, his gaze softening. Then, with a mischievous grin tugging at the corners of his lips, he leaned in and gently poked his brother's cheek.
"Hey, wake up," he said playfully.
Sam groaned, swatting at the invisible intruder and turning his face away from the light, burying it in the pillow.
"Five minutes, please..." he murmured, voice muffled and sleepy.
Shane giggled under his breath and poked him again, unable to resist the comedy of it. This time, Sam whined and curled tighter into the cotton blanket like a cocoon.
Still smiling, Shane stood up, his little feet padding across the floorboards. With a theatrical tug, he opened the window wide—letting a beam of golden sunlight land directly on Sam's face.
"Shane! Close it...!" Sam groaned, crouching deeper into the warmth of the blanket.
Shane only laughed harder at his brother's misery. The giggle echoed through the room like a soft bell—light and innocent.
"The last one in the kitchen has to do the dishes!" he called, darting off with an impish grin, the sound of his bare feet smacking the floor as he ran.
"What??" Sam cried, launching himself from the bed like a soldier in battle. "Shane! You're cheating!"
Still wrapped in sleep, Sam stumbled forward, running with all the clumsy urgency of a boy racing against doom. His small arms pumped as he chased after his brother, the hallway flashing by in a blur.
But just as he reached the kitchen door, he bumped into someone—or something.
He staggered back.
It was Shane. Standing completely still. Frozen in front of the door.
Sam frowned, confused. Then he heard it.
Two voices. Arguing.
"Shane..." Sam whispered.
Shane turned to him, and without a word, pulled him into a tight embrace and lowered them both to sit just outside the kitchen door. He cupped his hands over Sam's ears gently, his face wearing a calm, reassuring smile.
A mask.
Sam pouted and mumbled, trying to shake free. "Shane, I can't hear it..." he whispered with a frown.
But Shane didn't answer. He just kept smiling.
Shane's POV
I beat him to the kitchen, of course. I always do. His voice echoed down the hall, high and whiny.
"Shane! You're cheating!!"
I laughed as I ran—
But I didn't make it through the door.
I stopped.
Something about the voices inside made my chest feel tight. Glitchy, like radios wrestling static. I held my breath and leaned in, ears straining.
A deep, stuttering voice came first. Male. Robotic. Cold.
> "We need to send them to the higher-ups," it buzzed, the words dragging unnaturally.
My body tensed.
A second voice responded. Female. Still robotic—but smoother, almost hesitant.
"I decline your offer."
She sounded unsure. Defensive.
"I am not offering. It is a mandatory action."
I stayed frozen. Fists clenched at my sides. The words crawled into my brain like needles.
"They are just children. They're not dangerous."
"That's exactly why we need to send them. Before they become dangerous."
That sentence punched the breath from my lungs. My knees nearly gave in.
"I can take care of them."
"No, you can't! You think caring for them is like charging a battery?"
There was a loud metallic thud—something slamming down.
"I do care for them!"
That's when I felt Sam bump into me.
His whisper cut through the static.
"Shane...?"
I turned. He looked so small. So confused.
I pulled him close and gently brought us to the floor. Hands over his ears. Smiling. Smiling so wide it hurt. Because if I showed him I was scared, he'd be scared too.
Even as my hands trembled, I smiled.
Even as my stomach twisted into knots, I smiled.
"Shane, I can't hear it..." he pouted.
Good.
Inside, the man grunted.
"Do whatever you want," he growled, words fuzzy and warped.
The door creaked open. I froze.
He stepped out.
Tall. Cold. His metal face rusted at the edges, jaw held together with bolts. Glowing eyes. He looked straight at me.
My body screamed to look away.
But I didn't blink.
I couldn't.
If I looked away, he might take us.
We stared at each other. Then—he walked past.
I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding.
The door creaked again.
She stepped out. The female robot. Sleek and silver, with a softer, molded face. Her glowing eyes scanned us—then softened.
> "Breakfast is ready. Come eat," she said, voice smoother now. Softer. But still... off.
I didn't answer right away.
I just held Sam a little tighter.
---
Back to Third Person
Shane slowly helped his brother to his feet. Sam blinked at the woman, still unsure, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. But Shane kept a hand on his shoulder, gently steering him toward the kitchen.
Inside, the table was set. Plates of pancakes. A bowl of fruit. Two glasses of warm milk.
Sam's face lit up. He ran to the table, laughing again.
Shane lingered at the doorway, eyes flicking once—toward the hallway where the man had disappeared.
Then, quiet and cautious, he stepped forward and sat beside his brother.
Still smiling.
But inside, he was already wondering how to keep the robots from abandoning them.
Already terrified of what might come next.
End chapter 1