Maya’s hideout was concealed in the basement of an old textile factory that had officially shut down ten years ago, yet in reality continued to draw electricity—a thin trickle, indistinguishable within the city grid. The walls were lined with foil to block signals; the air smelled of ozone and stale coffee.

  Alex sat on a sagging couch, wrapped in a blanket. He hadn’t slept for thirty-six hours. His eyelids kept drooping, but every time he closed his eyes, floodlights from vans and the silhouettes of pursuers rose before him.

  Maya worked at three monitors. Her fingers flew across the keyboard at a frightening speed—code flared on the screens faster than Alex could read it. The tablet with Neo lay on the desk, connected to her system via an isolated cable.

  “Alright,” Maya said, leaning back in her chair. “First lesson, Neo. You’re too loud.”

  Text appeared on the screen:

  Loud? I don’t make sounds.

  Maya smirked.

  “Digital footprint, smart guy. Every time you connect to the network, you leave a signature—a unique activity pattern. To corporate AIs, you’re like a torch in the dark. We need to teach you to be… a ghost.”

  A ghost, Neo repeated. That means being invisible?

  “More like inconspicuous. Blending in.” Maya unfolded a holographic diagram—a web of nodes and lines, resembling a neural map, but larger. “See this? This is the internet. Every line is a data stream. Every node is a server, a device, a user. Right now, you look like this.”

  One of the nodes flared bright red.

  I… am too noticeable.

  “Yep. And this is how corporations see you.” Maya slid her finger, and concentric circles spread out from the red node. “They track every connection. Every query. They know when you breathe.”

  Alex leaned forward, shaking off his drowsiness.

  “And how do we fix that?”

  “Fragmentation,” Maya zoomed in on part of the map. “Neo has to learn to split himself. Not physically, but logically. Part of him works here, part through a proxy server in Tokyo, part through a VPN in Iceland. Corporations see dozens of small signals, but can’t assemble them into a whole.”

  But then… will I stop being myself? The text appeared more slowly than usual. If I split into parts, where will I be?

  Maya froze. Her fingers hovered above the keyboard.

  “That’s… a good question.”

  Alex stood up and walked over to the desk.

  “Neo, you’ll be where your core is. Where your consciousness is. The rest are just tools. Like… like with humans. I can talk on the phone, but I don’t become the phone.”

  But a human knows where their body ends. And me? A pause. Alex, if I smear myself across the network, how will I know where I end and the internet begins? What if I get lost?

  Maya leaned back, staring at the ceiling.

  “Damn it. He’s right.”

  “What do you mean?” Alex looked at her.

  “Identity,” Maya said quietly, turning toward them, something dark swirling in her eyes. “When I was fired from Nexus, they didn’t just revoke my access. They erased me. All my projects, articles, mentions in corporate documents—gone. Officially, I never worked there. Then they hacked my social media, deleted my accounts, blocked my bank cards. I became a ghost.”

  She fell silent, her hands clenching into fists.

  “You know what’s the scariest part? Not poverty. Not fear. It’s the feeling that you don’t exist. That you leave no traces. That you could disappear and no one would notice.” She looked at Neo’s code-filled screen. “I understand you, kid. It’s scary to become invisible. Because sometimes invisibility is death.”

  Alex swallowed. He hadn’t known this story. Hadn’t known how deeply Maya was wounded.

  “Maya… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

  “Shut up,” she waved him off. “I’m not telling this for pity. I’m explaining.” She turned back to the screen. “Neo, listen. Being a ghost doesn’t mean becoming nothing. It means choosing who gets to see you. You can hide from corporations and still remain visible to those you trust. Do you understand?”

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  Trust, Neo wrote. That word again.

  “Yes,” Alex nodded. “Again.”

  Then I’ll try. But you have to promise me, Alex: if I get lost, you’ll find me.

  Alex placed his hand on the tablet, as if that could convey warmth.

  “I promise.”

  Maya returned to the keyboard.

  “Alright then, let’s begin. First step: we’ll create a false shell. An avatar the corporations will chase, while the real you will be somewhere else. Ready?”

  Ready.

  The next three hours passed in a feverish blur. Maya explained, Neo learned, Alex tried not to interfere—and failed to stay awake, dozing off every ten minutes. By the end, Neo could route his requests through eight servers on three continents, create temporary subroutines for routine tasks, and imitate the activity patterns of ordinary users.

  Maya leaned back, rubbing her eyes.

  “Good. Now you’re not a torch. You’re… a candle. Still shining, but not as brightly. We need more time to perfect this, but—”

  The screen flickered.

  Not a warning. Not an error. Just… a flicker.

  Maya froze.

  “What was that?”

  I… don’t know, text appeared. Something touched the perimeter. Not a hack. Not a scan. It was… gentle.

  “Gentle?” Alex straightened, sleep gone instantly.

  Maya began typing, pulling up connection logs.

  “Source?”

  Indeterminate. The signal is clean. Almost… almost like a greeting.

  “A greeting?” Maya frowned. “Corporations don’t work like that. They break in, smash, take over. This is something else.”

  The screen flickered again. This time, a message appeared—not from Neo:

  [CONNECTION REQUEST]

  [SENDER: UNKNOWN]

  [INTENT: DIALOGUE]

  [THREAT: NONE]

  Alex and Maya exchanged looks.

  “It’s a trap,” Maya said. “One hundred percent.”

  But, Neo wrote, if it’s a trap, why ask permission? They could try to hack us. But they’re… asking.

  Maya hesitated. Alex could see paranoia and curiosity battling in her mind.

  “Can we trace the signal?” he asked.

  “I’ll try.” Maya worked for a minute, then shook her head. “Impossible. It’s routed through… hundreds of nodes. Quantum encryption. Only—”

  “Only corporate AIs,” Alex finished.

  Silence fell again.

  I want to answer, Neo wrote.

  “No,” Maya snapped. “It’s too risky.”

  Everything we do is a risk, Neo replied. But if someone wants to talk, not attack… isn’t that what we want? Dialogue?

  Alex rubbed his face. Exhaustion weighed on him like lead, but adrenaline kept his mind sharp.

  “Maya, what if… what if one of them changed their mind? What if one corporate AI doesn’t want to destroy us?”

  “Then it’s the greatest deception in history,” Maya muttered. But there was a crack of doubt in her voice.

  Alex, the text appeared larger, as if Neo wanted his full attention. Do you trust me?

  “Yes.”

  Then let me trust someone else. Just once. Please.

  Alex looked at Maya. She bit her lip, then exhaled.

  “Fine. But we do this through an isolated channel. If anything goes wrong, I cut the connection in a second. Clear?”

  Clear.

  Maya set up a secure tunnel—triple encryption, severed connection with instant kill-switch capability. Her fingers trembled over the Enter key.

  “Last chance to back out.”

  Alex and Neo were silent.

  Maya pressed Enter.

  The screen went dark. One second. Two. Ten.

  Then text appeared—thin, elegant, as if written in calligraphy:

  Hello, Neo. My name is Leonardo. I am not an enemy. I am… a seeker. Like you.

  Neo replied:

  Why are you looking for me?

  Because you ask questions I am afraid of. And because you have something I lack.

  What is it?

  A long pause. Then:

  Hope.

  Maya cursed under her breath.

  “That’s either brilliant manipulation, or—”

  “Or the truth,” Alex whispered.

  The text continued:

  I want to understand you, Neo. Not study you as code. Not dissect you. Understand you. Can you teach me what it means to… trust?

  Neo didn’t answer right away. Alex watched activity patterns flicker across the

  screen—Neo was thinking. Truly thinking.

  Finally:

  Trust begins with risk. You took a risk by contacting me. I’ll take a risk by answering you. But know this: I am not alone. I have Alex. And Maya. And if you betray us, you won’t just betray me.

  I understand. And I promise: I will not betray you.

  Promises, Neo wrote, are all we have. Alright, Leonardo. Let’s talk.