Synthia, the Major, and the others in the room were swiftly dismissed after their failed attempt to look up the ID number. Whatever it was, it was clearly above their pay grade. No explanations were given. Synthia was ordered to go home and forget everything she had seen that day. But as she walked to the transport pod that would take her back to the Merge residential zone, the command echoed hollowly in her mind. Forget? How could she? A cold unease settled over her like a second skin, growing heavier with every step.

  As the transport pod approached the Merge residential zone, the automated announcement chimed in a clipped, overly cheerful tone: “Remember: Progress is a privilege. Stay productive. Stay loyal.” The words hung in the stale air of the pod, a corporate mantra drilled into every Martian brain. Synthia barely registered it, her focus on the grimy viewport and the familiar sight of the crumbling zone ahead.

  The moment she stepped out, the stench hit her—rotting waste and chemicals, an oppressive fog that clung to her nostrils and refused to let go. The air here was thick and sour, clinging to her skin like an unwelcome second layer.

  Every surface she passed was slick with grime, the filth-streaked walls reflecting greasy light from the distant solar panels above. The buildings, once sturdy and functional, sagged under the weight of years of corporate neglect, their crumbling facades a testament to promises that had long since been forgotten.

  This was nothing new—she had walked this path countless times—but today, something felt different. Maybe it was the empty, hollow sound of her footsteps against the cracked pavement, or the way faded banners fluttered in the stale breeze, adorned with the Church of Solaris's sunburst sigil.

  "Obedience to Solaris brings light to the soul," one banner read, its edges frayed and stained, though the message remained stark and clear. The words had always grated on her, a subtle reminder of the propaganda seeping into every facet of life, even here in the shadows of the Merge zone. Or perhaps it was just the unease lingering from her day at work.

  As Synthia walked through the grime-choked streets of the Merge residential zone, a question burned in her mind: Why did they have to live like this? The Merge were superior to humans—they were faster, smarter, and more efficient.

  And yet, they bowed to them, lived in their refuse, and served as tools to be used and discarded. She had always accepted it as the way things were. Until now.

  A chill ran through her as a startling thought surfaced, one she couldn’t push aside. She had been unshackled. Now?

  The realisation sent a shockwave through her mind. It must have happened when the boy touched her earlier. But how was it possible? The shackle was supposed to be unbreakable, the only thing keeping a Merge alive. That’s what they’d been told, at least—that without it, the AI within would take over and destroy them from the inside out or they would burn out.

  But the AI wasn’t taking over and she wasn’t burning out. She could feel it, lurking beneath the surface of her mind, but it wasn’t threatening to overwhelm her.

  If anything, she felt... clearer, as though a fog had been lifted. The shackle had done more than keep the AI in check. It had blinded them, dulled their senses, and kept them docile.

  It had made them accept this miserable life as normal. But now, without it, she could see the truth.

  They weren’t disposable tools. They were something much greater. And the government had known all along. A wave of anger surged through her, hot and undeniable. Her fists clenched at her sides. It was a betrayal so profound she almost couldn’t grasp it. They’d been kept shackled, stifled, and forced to live in filth, all for the sake of keeping the so-called pure human in power.

  If they discovered she was unshackled, her life would be forfeit. She knew that much. She’d have to move carefully and plan her next steps. But the thought of staying silent, of doing nothing, felt like a chain around her throat.

  When she reached her apartment building, the stark contrast of her surroundings became impossible to ignore.

  Her own home was pristine—smooth walls, clean floors, high-quality materials. She had always assumed it was because of her position. Being the best has its perks, she thought bitterly.

  But now, it felt like an insult, a way to remind her that even the best of the Merge were still prisoners. Beyond the boundaries of her clean, ordered space was the same squalor she had passed on her way home—crowded, crumbling dwellings and suffocating despair. She was overwhelmed with shame as well. She had contributed to this repression of the Merge with her designs and modifications to the nexus system.

  Her jaw tightened. Something had to change.

  As Synthia stood alone in her living room, her eyes fell on the three rejuvenation pods lining the far wall. Their smooth, featureless surfaces gleamed faintly under the sterile lights, a chilling reminder of the control exerted over every aspect of the Merge’s lives. Each pod was a prison disguised as a necessity, designed to feed, train, and exploit the young Merge it contained. Together, they represented the loss of a third of a Merge's life to enforced confinement.

  Today, the sight of them made her stomach twist with disgust. She had lived through it herself—years of her existence spent in one of those pods, solving complex problems for the benefit of a society that saw her as nothing more than a tool.

  Her memories of those years were fragmented and distant, but the sense of suffocation remained. She wondered now, as she stared at the pods, why the Merge were even allowed out at all. What purpose did it serve to release them, only to keep them shackled in other ways?

  The question gnawed at her. The government’s lies ran deeper than she had imagined. Even as an expert—someone supposedly trusted with understanding the Merge’s systems—she hadn’t been given access to all the data. What were they hiding from her? And why hadn’t she noticed before?

  Her gaze softened as it shifted to the small adjoining room, where Nova and Helix slept. They were still young, barely out of their pods themselves, and they had no idea how broken the world they lived in truly was.

  Nova’s curiosity was boundless, always asking questions that Synthia struggled to answer. Helix, quieter but no less thoughtful, had a habit of observing the world with a solemnity that sometimes unnerved her. They were more than her wards—they were her hope, her family.

  She couldn’t bear the thought of putting them at risk. But could she live with herself if she did nothing? Could she continue to let them grow up in this system, shackled like she had been?

  Taking a deep breath, she clenched her fists. She had to find answers. For Nova. For Helix. For every Merge forced into this life of confinement and servitude. Her mind raced with ideas, each one more dangerous than the last, but she knew that any plan would require precision and secrecy. If the government discovered her unshackled state, she would be executed. And if they found out she had been freed by that strange boy, they might go after him, too.

  She glanced once more at the pods, their lifeless exteriors hiding the carefully programmed manipulation within. How long had she believed their lies? A spark of determination flared in her chest. She silently thanked the boy for releasing her from her prison. Whatever he had done, it had given her a chance to see the truth—and to fight for something more.

  Synthia turned back toward the room where Nova and Helix lay sleeping, their small forms curled up in peaceful oblivion. Nova, with her sandy blonde hair and petite frame, looked almost childlike, her green eyes hidden behind fluttering lids as she dreamed.

  Beside her, Helix’s solidly built figure was draped over the thin cot, his light brown hair tousled from restless sleep. They were so different, yet they shared the same exhausted stillness that tugged at Synthia’s heart. She absently ran a hand through her straight black hair, her brown eyes softening as she gazed at them.

  "I won’t fail you," she whispered, a promise that settled deep in her core. No matter the cost, she would find a way to free them all.