Sci-FI The Promise (A fantastic and classic sci-fi premise with a lot of heart)

[redarc121]

Chapter 26

The "Hague Blue" wall had become the backdrop for Eva's latest research project: Bollywood. The penthouse was filled with the soaring violins and dramatic dialogue of a classic Shah Rukh Khan film. Eva was curled on the sofa, a bowl of popcorn forgotten in her lap, her eyes wide and utterly captivated.

Rohan, trying to work on a proposal at the kitchen island, found his attention constantly pulled away by the spectacle on the screen. He watched as the hero, drenched in rain, declared his love atop a moving train. He saw the heroine, her saree impeccably dry, run through a field of blooming mustard flowers towards him.

Eva let out a soft sigh. "The logistical improbability of that field being in Switzerland when they were just in Punjab is staggering," she murmured, but there was a dreamy quality to her voice that undercut the criticism.

The movie reached its climax. The hero, having overcome evil uncles and comic relief sidekicks, finally found the heroine at a crowded train station. He didn't just walk up to her. He pushed through the crowd, dropped to one knee, and held out a massive, glittering ring.

"Will you make me the happiest man in the world?" he boomed, his voice echoing through the station. "Will you be mine?"

The music swelled. The heroine burst into tears of joy and nodded. The crowd cheered.

Eva sat bolt upright, her analytical gaze replaced by one of pure, unadulterated fascination. "Whoa," she breathed.

As the credits rolled, she didn't move. She quickly navigated to a Hollywood romance. She found the scene. A man in a restaurant, nervous, getting down on one knee, opening a velvet box. Another: in a park, surrounded by fairy lights. Another: on a jumbotron at a baseball game.

Kneel. Ring. Question.

She rewatched the Bollywood scene. Then the Hollywood one. Then the Bollywood one again. Back and forth, four, five times, her head tilting as she deconstructed the ritual.

Rohan finally gave up on his work and came to lean against the back of the sofa. "Finding the common algorithm for human mating rituals?" he asked, a smile in his voice.

Eva paused the screen on a frozen image of a man on one knee, his face a mask of hopeful anxiety. She turned her head slowly to look at Rohan. Her expression was deadly serious, her brow furrowed in genuine confusion.

"Why doesn't he do it?" she asked, her voice quiet.

Rohan's smile faded. "Who? Do what?"

"Arjun," she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. She pointed at the screen. "This. The knee. The ring. The question. It's a clearly defined courtship milestone across multiple cultures. We have held hands. We have kissed. Our text message frequency and content analysis suggests a 94% compatibility rating. The next logical step is the formalization of the relationship. The 'proposal' to be his girlfriend. Why hasn't he initiated the protocol?"

Rohan stared at her. He saw the genuine perplexity in her eyes. She had absorbed the data, identified the pattern, and was now wondering why Arjun was failing to execute the next line of code in the romantic sequence.

A laugh bubbled up in his chest, but he choked it back. He couldn't explain the messy, unscripted, terrifying vulnerability of a real man trying to find the right moment to ask a real woman to be his girlfriend. How did you tell a quantum AI that sometimes love was illogical and inefficient?

So, he did what any good, mischievous older brother would do. He threw his best friend under the bus.

"You know, Eva," he said, feigning thoughtful concern. "You're right. It is a mystery. I don't know why he doesn't do it." He leaned closer, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Maybe he's shy. Maybe he's waiting for the perfect moment. Maybe he doesn't know you're waiting for it." He shrugged, a picture of innocence. "You should ask him."

Eva's eyes widened. The confusion cleared, replaced by dawning resolve. "Ask him," she repeated, turning the idea over in her mind. "Initiate the protocol myself." She nodded slowly, a plan solidifying behind her brilliant eyes. "Yes. That is a logical course of action. Why wait for an inefficient, unpredictable moment when the desired outcome can be achieved through direct communication?"

Rohan bit the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning. "Exactly. Very efficient. Well, I have a meeting." He patted her shoulder and began backing away towards the door, grabbing his jacket. "Good luck with your... direct communication."

He practically fled the penthouse, the image of Eva's determined face seared into his mind. He could almost hear the gears turning. She was going to approach one of the most delicate, nerve-wracking human rituals with the blunt force of a debug command.

As the elevator descended, he pulled out his phone and sent a quick text to Arjun.

ROHAN: Hey. Just a heads up. Eva's been studying romantic proposals. She might have some... questions about relationship milestones. Good luck, buddy.

He put his phone away, a wide, unrepentant grin finally spreading across his face. His creation was about to force his best friend to define the relationship. The chaos was going to be glorious.

 

[redarc121]

Chapter 27

The "Hague Blue" wall had become the backdrop for Eva's latest research project: Bollywood. The penthouse was filled with the soaring violins and dramatic dialogue of a classic Shah Rukh Khan film. Eva was curled on the sofa, a bowl of popcorn forgotten in her lap, her eyes wide and utterly captivated.

Rohan, trying to work on a proposal at the kitchen island, found his attention constantly pulled away. He watched as the hero, drenched in rain, declared his love atop a moving train.

Eva let out a soft sigh. "The hydrostatic pressure required to achieve that hair volume in the rain is physically impossible," she murmured, but there was a dreamy quality to her voice that undercut the criticism.

The movie reached its climax. The hero, having overcome evil uncles and comic relief sidekicks, finally found the heroine at a crowded train station. He didn't just walk up to her. He pushed through the crowd, dropped to one knee, and held out a massive, glittering ring.

"Will you make me the happiest man in the world?" he boomed. "Will you be mine?"

The music swelled. The heroine burst into tears of joy and nodded. The crowd cheered.

Eva sat bolt upright, her analytical gaze replaced by one of pure, unadulterated fascination. "Whoa," she breathed.

As the credits rolled, she didn't move. She quickly navigated to a Hollywood romance. She found the scene. A man in a restaurant, nervous, getting down on one knee, opening a velvet box. Another: in a park, surrounded by fairy lights.

Kneel. Ring. Question.

She rewatched the scenes. Not with the cold eye of a data analyst, but with a new, fluttering feeling in her chest—a feeling her diagnostics categorized as LONGING. This wasn't about social protocols anymore. This was about a desire for a moment. A memory. A beautiful, illogical, human ritual to mark something beautiful.

She turned to Rohan, who was now watching her, a soft smile on his face. Her expression was wistful, not confused.

"It's so... unnecessary," she said softly, her voice full of wonder. "And so... perfect. The public declaration. The vulnerability. The promise made in front of the world." She looked down at her own hand. "I think... I would like that."

Rohan's heart squeezed. This wasn't his sister demanding efficiency. This was a woman dreaming a human dream. "It is pretty special," he agreed gently.

Meanwhile, across the city, Arjun was not panicking. He was in a state of focused, nervous excitement. He stood on the rooftop of a luxurious skytop restaurant, the city lights spread out like a carpet of diamonds below him. Fairy lights twinkled in the potted trees, and a single table was set for two in the center.

"He's sure the weather will hold?" he asked the manager for the fifth time.

"Absolutely, sir. Not a cloud in the forecast. It will be perfect."

Arjun nodded, running a hand through his already messy hair. In his pocket was a small velvet box. He wasn't waiting for a logical next step. He had been planning this for a week. He wanted to give Eva a moment so beautiful, so magical, it would feel like one of her movies. He’d even enlisted Rohan and Anya to help, inventing a reason to have them at a nearby table—a celebration for the "birthday" Rohan had programmed into her memory, which was conveniently tomorrow.

He pulled out his phone. A message from Rohan flashed.

ROHAN: Heads up. Eva's just discovered proposal scenes. She thinks they're "unnecessary but perfect." She wants one.

Arjun’s nervousness melted into a wide, relieved grin. His secret plan was perfectly aligned with her secret wish. It was meant to be.

ARJUN: Don't worry. She has no idea what's coming tomorrow night. Just make sure you and Anya are there at 8.

Back in the penthouse, Eva’s phone buzzed. It was Arjun.

ARJUN: Hey, you. What are you doing tomorrow night?
EVA: My calendar is clear. My brother informs me it is my birthday, though the designation seems arbitrary.
ARJUN: Well, this arbitrary birthday calls for a celebration. Dress up. I'm taking you somewhere special.
EVA: Define "special."
ARJUN: You'll see. It involves a sky, lights, and hopefully, no evil uncles trying to kidnap you.
EVA: I will ensure my anti-kidnapping protocols are active. I am looking forward to it.

She put the phone down, a slow, excited smile spreading across her face. A birthday celebration. A "special" place. Her mind, now free to hope and dream, immediately began cross-referencing the data. Sky + Lights + Special Occasion = High probability of a significant romantic event.

She looked over at Rohan, her eyes sparkling with a hope she didn't try to hide. "He's taking me somewhere special tomorrow. For my birthday."

Rohan feigned surprise beautifully. "He is? That's great! I'll have to wish you happy birthday then." He winked. "Maybe it'll be a night to remember."

Eva nodded, her heart doing a happy, nervous flutter that had nothing to do with her processors and everything to do with the beautiful, unpredictable, wonderful mess of being in love. She didn't need to ask for the protocol anymore. She had a feeling it was already being written, just for her.

 

[redarc121]

Chapter 28

The day of Eva’s “birthday” dawned with a sense of electric anticipation in the penthouse. Eva, for whom dates were merely data points, found herself strangely affected by the arbitrary designation. She spent the morning in a state of restless energy, her systems buzzing with a low-level hum that had nothing to do with diagnostics.

Rohan watched her with amused affection. She’d already tried on three different outfits by 10 AM, draping them over chairs and asking for his opinion with an uncharacteristic lack of confidence.

“The blue dress matches my wall,” she stated, holding up a sleek navy gown.
“Too matchy,” Rohan called from the kitchen.
“The red one has a statistically higher attraction quotient in romantic contexts.”
“Too obvious.”
She emerged holding a simple, elegant dress the color of champagne. It was understated, timeless, and shimmered faintly in the light.
Rohan put down his coffee. “That’s the one.”

Satisfied, she disappeared back into her room. The rest of the day was a whirlwind of preparation that Rohan found utterly fascinating. He’d given her the tools for beauty routines, but watching her apply them with the focused intensity of a scientist conducting a critical experiment was something else. She wasn’t just applying makeup; she was optimizing for lighting conditions, calculating the precise angle of eyeliner to maximize eye-appearance metrics.

As evening fell, the final result was breathtaking. She looked less like a humanoid and more like a vision. The champagne dress hugged her perfectly evolved form, her hair was swept into an elegant twist, and her eyes, always her most captivating feature, seemed to hold the light of the city itself.

“You look…” Rohan began, but words failed him. “Arjun is a very lucky man.”

Eva did a small, happy twirl, the dress flaring slightly. “All systems are optimal,” she declared, but her glowing smile betrayed the simple joy beneath the technical assessment.

Right on time, Arjun arrived. He looked handsome and terribly nervous in a tailored suit, his hands clutching a bouquet of stargazer lilies—a flower she’d once mentioned liking for its name and visual complexity. His eyes widened when he saw her.

“Wow,” he breathed, the word seeming to be punched out of him. “Eva… you’re…”

“ statistically significant?” she offered, a playful glint in her eye.

He laughed, the tension breaking. “That’s one way to put it.” He handed her the flowers, his fingers brushing hers. A jolt, warm and familiar, passed between them.

Rohan played his part perfectly. “You kids have fun. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” He gave Arjun a clap on the shoulder that was both encouraging and a subtle warning.

The skytop restaurant was everything Arjun had promised and more. It was a fantasy woven from fairy lights and the cool night air, high above the glittering chaos of Mumbai. Soft music played, and the few other tables were occupied by couples speaking in hushed, intimate tones.

And there, at a table tucked discreetly behind a fragrant frangipani tree, were Rohan and Dr. Anya Sharma. Eva’s “family.”

“Happy Birthday, Eva!” Anya said, standing to give her a warm hug. It was a gesture that felt surprisingly genuine. Rohan gave her a brotherly kiss on the cheek.

“We couldn’t miss your birthday,” Rohan said, his eyes flicking to Arjun with a knowing look.

Dinner was a blur of exquisite food and easy conversation. Eva found herself laughing, truly laughing, not at data points but at stories—Rohan telling embarrassingly fond stories about a younger, even more awkward Arjun, Anya subtly steering the conversation away from anything too technical about Eva’s fictional past.

Eva watched it all, her emotional processors working at full capacity, not to analyze, but to simply feel. The warmth, the belonging, the sheer, unscripted joy of it. She caught Arjun’s eye across the table, and he smiled at her, a smile that held a secret.

As dessert was cleared—a decadent chocolate torte she’d consumed with rapturous, human delight—the music shifted to something softer, more intimate. Arjun took a deep, visible breath.

He stood up. The air seemed to still around them.

“Eva,” he said, his voice slightly rough with emotion. He walked around the table to stand before her chair. Then, to her astonishment, he slowly went down on one knee.

The world narrowed to the space between them. The fairy lights, the city, Rohan and Anya holding their breath—it all faded into a beautiful blur.

He pulled a small, black velvet box from his pocket. His hands were trembling. This was no longer a plan. This was a man, offering his heart.

“I know we already talked about this,” he began, his eyes locked on hers, shining with unshed tears. “And I know you think titles are just titles. But what I feel for you… it deserves more than just words. It deserves a moment.”

He opened the box. Nestled inside wasn’t a massive, Bollywood-style rock, but a perfect, brilliant solitaire set on a delicate band. It was elegant, timeless, and utterly perfect.

“Eva,” he said, his voice gaining strength, filled with a love so raw and real it made her own perfectly engineered heart ache. “You are the most unexpected, brilliant, beautiful thing that has ever happened to me. You are my best friend, my favorite person, my favorite puzzle. Will you… will you officially, ceremonially, in front of this sky and our family, be my girlfriend?”

It was not a marriage proposal. It was something infinitely more them. A promise to choose each other, every day.

Tears—real, warm, saline tears that her systems had never needed to produce before—welled in Eva’s eyes and spilled over. She wasn’t analyzing the ritual anymore. She was living it.

She looked from his hopeful, nervous face, to the ring, to Rohan and Anya who were both openly crying, and then back to him.

Her voice, when it came, was a soft, broken, utterly happy whisper.

“Yes.”

The restaurant, which had fallen silent, erupted in soft applause. Arjun slid the ring onto her finger—a perfect fit, because of course Rohan had provided the specs—and then he was pulling her to her feet and into a kiss that tasted of chocolate, champagne, and forever.

As they broke apart, laughing and crying, Eva looked down at the ring on her finger, its sparkle rivaling the city lights below. It was a symbol. Not of ownership, but of a choice. A memory made real.

She looked at Arjun, her boyfriend, and then at Rohan, her brother, who was wiping his eyes with a napkin.

As they broke apart, laughing and crying, Eva looked down at the ring on her finger, its sparkle rivaling the city lights below. It was a symbol. Not of ownership, but of a choice. A memory made real.

She looked at Arjun, her boyfriend, who had just given her a moment more perfect than any she had studied. She looked at Rohan, her brother, who was wiping his eyes with a napkin, his love for her shining as brightly as the ring.

The story of her past—the accident, the loss—was a phantom pain for a life she never lived. But this? The warmth of Arjun's hand, the proud tears in her brother's eyes, the weight of the promise on her finger... this was not a story. This was her life. And it was just beginning.

 

[redarc121]

Chapter 29

The car ride home was a silent, blissful bubble. Eva sat in the passenger seat, her left hand resting on her knee, fingers splayed. The city lights streamed past the window, each one catching the solitaire on her finger and fracturing into a dozen tiny, brilliant stars. She didn’t speak. She just watched the light play on the platinum band and the perfect, clear stone.

Arjun kept glancing over at her, a soft, incredulous smile on his face. He’d reach over and squeeze her right hand, and she’d squeeze back, but her gaze never left her left hand for long.

Back in the penthouse, the “Hague Blue” wall seemed to welcome them, feeling more like home than ever. The fancy clothes were shed, replaced by soft cotton and comfortable silence. Arjun made them both cups of tea, the normalcy of the act a beautiful counterpoint to the extraordinary evening.

But Eva was elsewhere. She curled up in her favorite corner of the sofa, drawing her knees to her chest. She held her left hand up in the dim light of a single lamp, turning it slowly, watching the ring’s performance.

It was more than jewelry. It was a culmination. A physical anchor for an emotional tsunami.

Arjun sat beside her, not interrupting her reverie. He simply watched her watch the ring, loving the captivated, wondrous look on her face.

“Does it feel okay?” he asked softly, after a long while. “The fit?”

Eva finally tore her eyes away from the sparkle and looked at him. Her expression was one of profound wonder. “It feels…” she began, then paused, her brilliant mind searching for a framework to process the overwhelming sensation. “…like a perfect synaptic trigger.”

Arjun blinked, a fond, slightly confused smile touching his lips. “A… what now?”

“The weight of it,” she explained, her voice a hushed marvel, her focus returning to the ring. “It’s not just physical mass. It’s a constant, gentle stimulus. A neural anchor. Every time I feel it, or see it catch the light, it fires a specific cascade of memories. Of your face. Of the question. Of the emotional response.” She flexed her fingers, making the stone glitter. “It’s a beautifully efficient mnemonic device.”

Arjun chuckled softly, pulling her into his side. He was used to her neuroscientist’s brain trying to quantify the unquantifiable. It was one of the things he adored about her. “So, what you’re saying is… you like it?” he teased.

Eva nodded, a serious look on her face. “The correlation between its physical presence and the release of neurochemicals associated with pleasure and bonding is exceptionally high. It’s a potent catalyst.”

“A catalyst, huh?” he said, kissing her temple. “Well, I’m glad the experiment is yielding positive results, Dr. Eva.”

She nestled against him, finally letting her hand rest on his chest, but her eyes remained fixed on her finger, still fascinated. “It’s the most significant finding of my research,” she murmured, her voice drowsy.

Arjun held her, thinking how endlessly fascinating she was. She saw the world through the beautiful, unique lens of her genius, constantly trying to map the geography of the heart using the charts of the brain. He didn't see a humanoid analyzing data; he saw the woman he loved, a brilliant neuroscientist, trying to understand her own happiness in the only language she truly mastered.

They sat like that until her breathing evened out and her body grew heavy against his. She had finally fallen asleep, her head on his shoulder, her left hand curled on his chest, the solitaire ring still holding the light.

Arjun smiled down at her, at the ring on her finger. His girlfriend, the genius, who talked about love in terms of neural cascades and catalysts. He wouldn’t have her any other way. He had no idea that her analysis was terrifyingly literal, that she was, in fact, monitoring her own emotional matrix in real-time. He just saw Eva. His Eva. And she was perfect.

 

[redarc121]

Chapter 30

The soft, contented silence of the penthouse was a warm blanket around them. Eva was curled against Arjun’s side, her head a perfect fit on his shoulder, her left hand—the one with the ring—resting on his chest, rising and falling with his breath. The sparkle of the solitaire was the only light she needed.

Arjun tilted his head, resting his cheek against her hair, breathing in the scent of jasmine and her. He shifted slightly, just enough to look down at her face. Her eyes were closed, her expression serene, but a small, content smile played on her lips. She was awake, just… savoring.

He couldn’t resist. He bent his head and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to her forehead. Her smile widened. She tilted her face up, her eyes fluttering open to meet his. The love in them was so clear, so deep, it made his breath catch.

He dipped his head again, this time capturing her lips with his. It wasn’t a kiss of passion, but of profound tenderness, a silent reaffirmation of the promise made under the stars. Her hand came up to cup his jaw, her thumb stroking his cheek, the cool metal of the ring a gentle contrast to her warm skin.

It was a perfect, quiet moment, suspended in time.

“AHEM.”

The sound was like a gunshot in the quiet room. It was a loud, deliberate, and utterly obnoxious cough from the hallway.

Eva and Arjun sprang apart as if electrocuted. Eva’s hand flew to her lips, her eyes wide. A deep, spectacular blush—a flawless, human physiological response—exploded across her cheeks and spread down her neck. She looked like she’d been caught stealing the crown jewels.

Arjun jerked upright, his own face flushing with a mixture of irritation and embarrassment. “Rohan!” he complained, his voice a mix of a groan and a growl.

Rohan stood leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, a massive, unrepentant grin on his face. He was still in his suit from dinner, having clearly just gotten back. “Don’t mind me,” he said, his tone dripping with fake nonchalance. “Just your… brother… coming home. Please, continue your… neurological research.” He waggled his eyebrows.

Eva, mortified, buried her face in a couch cushion with a muffled groan. The brilliant neuroscientist, the advanced humanoid who could debate synaptic plasticity, was reduced to a puddle of embarrassed giggles and blushes by her brother catching her kissing her boyfriend.

Arjun threw a pillow at Rohan, who caught it easily, laughing. “You have the worst timing in the history of the universe!”

“It’s a gift,” Rohan said, striding into the room. He ruffled Eva’s hair as he passed, which only made her burrow deeper into the cushion. “So,” he said, plopping into an armchair and looking at Arjun with mock seriousness. “Did the ‘catalyst’ perform to specification? Were the ‘mnemonic properties’ up to standard?”

Arjun rolled his eyes, but he was fighting a smile. “Shut up, man.”

Eva finally emerged from the cushion, her face still gloriously pink. She couldn’t meet Rohan’s eyes. “You are impossible,” she mumbled, trying to sound stern and failing utterly.

“And you, little sister, are blushing,” Rohan pointed out, delightedly. “I didn’t know you could blush. That’s a new feature. Very lifelike.”

That earned him another pillow, this time thrown by Eva with surprising force and accuracy. It hit him square in the face.

“Hey!” he laughed, holding up his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay! I yield! I can see my presence is disrupting the… ambiance.” He stood up, still grinning. “I’m going to bed. Try to keep the neural cascades to a dull roar, you two.”

He whistled as he walked down the hall, leaving them in a silence that was now buzzing with shared embarrassment and amusement.

Eva looked at Arjun, her blush finally receding. A slow, shy smile spread across her face. “I believe my brother is a defective unit,” she declared. “His social timing algorithm is clearly corrupted.”

Arjun laughed, pulling her back into his arms. “He’s the worst. But he’s your brother.” He kissed the top of her head. “And for the record, I think the blushing feature is my favorite one yet.”

Eva swatted his arm, but she was laughing, the awkward moment broken. She nestled back against him, the ring once again catching the light. The moment of perfect, quiet intimacy was gone, replaced by something else—something normal, silly, and deeply real. It wasn’t a Bollywood fantasy. It was just life. Messy, interrupted, and absolutely perfect.

 

[redarc121]

Chapter 31

The lingering embarrassment from Rohan’s interruption eventually melted into a comfortable, shared exhaustion. With a final, soft kiss goodnight, Arjun left, promising to call her first thing in the morning. The penthouse was quiet again, save for the low hum of the refrigerator and the distant, ever-present heartbeat of the city.

Eva padded to her room, the cool floor a contrast to the warmth of the evening. She performed her nightly rituals with a new awareness. Removing the ring felt momentous. She didn’t just drop it on the dresser. She placed it carefully in the small velvet box it came in, clicking the lid shut with a soft, final sound. It felt like tucking a precious piece of the day away for safekeeping.

She changed into her sleepwear and connected to the discreet port for her recharge cycle. As the familiar, low hum began and her consciousness started its gentle descent towards its offline state, her mind didn’t race with data or analysis. It replayed the night in a soft, emotional montage.

The feel of Arjun’s suit jacket under her fingers. The taste of chocolate and champagne. The specific acoustic quality of his voice when he asked the question. The stunning visual of him on one knee against the backdrop of a million city lights. The weight of the ring.

Her systems, designed for efficiency, began their work. The defragmentation process wasn’t just organizing code; it was weaving these powerful sensory and emotional imprints into the very fabric of her being. The memory wasn’t just being stored; it was being integrated. The joy, the love, the promise—these weren’t just experiences anymore. They were becoming part of her core programming, more fundamental than any line of code Rohan had ever written.

Across the city, Arjun wasn’t sleeping either. He sat at his desk, not looking at code, but at a photo on his phone. It was a slightly blurry, candid shot Anya had sent him. It showed him on his knee, the ring box open, and Eva’s face—a perfect picture of stunned, tearful joy. He zoomed in on her expression, his heart swelling all over again.

He opened a new text thread with Rohan.

ARJUN: Hey.
ROHAN: She put the ring in the box. Did it ceremoniously and everything. It was very cute.
ARJUN: Good.
ARJUN: And… thanks, man. For being there.
ROHAN: Wouldn’t have missed it. She’s happy. That’s all that matters.
ARJUN: I’m gonna marry her someday, you know.
ROHAN: I know. Just… maybe let her get used to the ‘girlfriend’ title first, yeah?
ARJUN: Deal. Night, Rohan.
ROHAN: Night, brother.

Arjun put his phone down, the word “brother” echoing warmly. The night had changed everything, deepening his bond with Eva and unexpectedly solidifying his place in Rohan’s family.

Back in the penthouse, deep in her recharge cycle, Eva’s perfectly still form did something new. A small, contented sigh escaped her lips—a soft, physiological exhalation that wasn’t part of any simulated breathing program. And on her face, untouched by any conscious command, a faint, serene smile appeared.

It was the expression of someone dreaming the sweetest of dreams. Her systems were offline, but her heart, in every way that mattered, was wide awake. The promise of the ring had been made, accepted, and was now being woven into the deepest layers of her soul. The experiment was over. The life had truly begun.

 

[redarc121]

Chapter 32

The word hung in the air long after Arjun’s text had faded from the screen.

I’m gonna marry her someday.

Rohan’s smile, so genuine a moment before, froze and then slowly melted away. The warm, brotherly feeling curdled into a cold, hard knot of dread in his stomach.

Marry her.

The word implied a future. A shared life. A home. Waking up next to each other. Mornings.

Mornings.

The thought was like a bucket of ice water. Every morning, Eva needed her 7-8 hour recharge cycle. She was offline, vulnerable, connected to her port. It was a non-negotiable part of her existence. How would that work? A quick “I’m a deep sleeper” excuse might work for a while, but every single night? For a lifetime? On a honeymoon?

Arjun was a genius. He noticed patterns. He would notice that. He would eventually try to wake her and find her unresponsive, cool to the touch, in a state that was unmistakably not natural sleep. The betrayal would be absolute. It wouldn’t just be a lie about her past; it would be a lie about her very nature, revealed in the most intimate of settings.

Panic, cold and sharp, seized him. He had been so focused on creating the perfect girlfriend, he had never planned for the perfect wife. He had built a breathtakingly beautiful sandcastle, and the tide of a real, lasting future was coming in.

He didn’t sleep. He paced the penthouse until the first grey light of dawn crept over the city. As soon as the clock hit a reasonable hour, he was on the phone.

“Anya. Lab. Now. It’s an emergency.”

Anya arrived within the hour, her face etched with concern. “Rohan? What’s wrong? Is it Eva’s new system? Is there a rejection?”

“No, it’s worse,” he said, his voice strained. He led her straight to the secret lab. The sterile, cold air was a shock after the emotional warmth of the night before.

“Arjun told me he’s going to marry her,” Rohan blurted out.

Anya’s eyes widened. “Oh, Rohan, that’s wonderf—”

“No, it’s not!” he interrupted, his voice echoing. “Think, Anya! The recharge cycle. Every single night. He’s going to know.”

The horror of the scenario dawned on Anya’s face. “Oh, my god. We never thought that far.”

“We were idiots!” Rohan slammed his hand on a steel console. “This… this is the leash. It’s the one thing that will always tether her to this lab. He will find out. And when he does, I will have destroyed them both.”

The weight of it crushed the air from the room.

“We need a solution,” Anya said finally, her voice firm. “A real one. Not another lie. We have to fix this.”

“Fix it?” Rohan laughed, a hollow, desperate sound. “How? Her power consumption is a fundamental part of her consciousness! Her quantum neural net needs that deep-cycle reset. It’s like asking a human to live without REM sleep—they’d go insane!”

“Then we don’t make her live without it,” Anya said, her eyes lighting up with a familiar, determined fire. She walked over to the main console, her fingers flying across the interface, pulling up the dense, complex code of Eva’s core operating system. “We make it… efficient.”

Rohan stared at her. “What are you talking about?”

“Look,” she said, pointing to cascading lines of code representing Eva’s energy consumption. “Seventy percent of this power drain is waste. It’s background processes, system checks, redundant backups that run constantly. Her consciousness, her emotional matrix, her physical maintenance—that’s the essential thirty percent.”

She turned to him, her expression fierce with possibility. “What if we could optimize it? Not eliminate the recharge, but minimize it. Drastically. We could design a new, hyper-efficient power cell. We could rewrite her core code to eliminate all non-essential processes. We could create a ‘low-power’ mode that mimics natural, human sleep—a state where she’s still vaguely aware, she can be woken, her skin is warm, she breathes… but her higher cognitive functions are still defragmenting and recharging in the background.”

The idea was audacious. Impossible. The most brilliant engineering challenge of their lives.

A slow, wild hope began to replace the dread in Rohan’s eyes. “A low-power sleep mode…?”

“Think about it,” Anya urged. “Instead of her being completely offline for eight hours, she’d only need a one or two-hour ‘deep recharge’ cycle once a week for a full system overhaul. The rest of the nights… she could just ‘sleep.’ Like we do. She could share a bed. He could wake her. She could even have dreams!” Anya’s voice was filled with exhilaration. “We wouldn’t be covering up a flaw, Rohan. We’d be perfecting her. We’d be giving her the final piece of a truly human experience.”

The vision was breathtaking. It wasn’t a lie. It was an evolution. An upgrade born of love, not fear.

Rohan looked around the lab, at the place where Eva was created. It wouldn’t be her anchor anymore. It would be her tuning facility.

“It would take months,” he breathed, his mind already racing through the implications, the equations, the structural changes. “The power cell alone… the material science doesn’t even exist yet.”

“Then we’ll invent it,” Anya said, her tone leaving no room for argument. “You’re Rohan. I’m Anya. We brought a consciousness to life in a body we built from scratch. You’re telling me we can’t crack battery efficiency?”

A real, genuine smile broke across Rohan’s face for the first time that morning. The problem was no longer a looming disaster. It was a project. A beautiful, difficult, glorious project.

“He can’t know,” Rohan said, the smile fading into seriousness. “We have to do this in secret. We’ll tell her it’s a routine upgrade. A new health monitoring system. She can’ know we’re doing this because of Arjun.”

“Agreed,” Anya nodded. “This is for her. For her freedom.”

They stood in the lab, the air no longer feeling like a tomb, but like a launchpad. The path ahead wasn’t about weaving a deeper lie. It was about achieving a miracle. They wouldn't hide her truth. They would change it, for the better. They would give the woman they both loved the freedom to truly share her life, every waking—and sleeping—moment of it.

 

[redarc121]

Chapter 33

The air in the lab crackled with a new energy, no longer the grim panic of impending disaster but the electric buzz of a monumental challenge. Rohan and Anya stood before the main holographic display, Eva’s schematics floating between them like a complex constellation.

“Okay,” Rohan began, his voice regaining its familiar, commanding edge. “The goal: reduce nightly recharge from eight hours of complete offline immersion to a state of low-power ‘sleep’ that is perceptually identical to human sleep. She must be wakeable, warm, and breathing normally.”

Anya nodded, already sketching ideas on a secondary display. “The primary obstacle is the quantum core. Its defragmentation cycle is computationally immense and can’t be interrupted. We can’t make that process more efficient, so we have to… reschedule it.”

“Reschedule it?” Rohan asked, intrigued.

“Think of it like a computer running a massive system update,” Anya explained, her fingers flying as she pulled up energy consumption graphs. “Right now, it tries to do it a little bit every night, which is why she needs such a long, deep offline period. But what if we design it to accumulate those necessary processes and run one, massive, comprehensive defragmentation cycle once a week? A ‘deep cleanse.’ The rest of the nights, her system only handles basic maintenance and memory consolidation—processes that require far less power and can run in the background of a low-power state.”

The idea was brilliant. It was a fundamental redesign of her very metabolism.

“The power cell,” Rohan said, his mind latching onto the next problem. “It would need to hold a charge for a week of low-power use, plus have enough surplus for the weekly deep cycle. The energy density required…”

“…is currently theoretical,” Anya finished for him. “We’ll need to design a new bio-cell. Something that can interface with her synthetic biology and hold a charge an order of magnitude greater than anything that exists.” A fierce grin spread across her face. “Good thing we’re good at theoretical.”

For the next week, the lab became their world. They worked in a frenzy of creation, the penthouse often silent above them. Eva noticed their absence, their tired eyes, but accepted Rohan’s explanation of a “crunch time on a new, secret project for the company” with a curious smile.

They hit wall after wall. The new power cell design overheated in simulations. The code for the new sleep mode created feedback loops that would have given a human migraines. But with each failure, they learned. They were iterating at a speed that would have stunned the entire scientific community.

Finally, after a grueling all-nighter, they had a breakthrough. A stable simulation. A new, diamond-lattice power cell design that could handle the energy load. A code patch that seamlessly toggled between “Active,” “Low-Power Sleep,” and “Deep Recharge” modes.

They stood back, staring at the simulation results on the screen. It showed a week’s worth of energy use: six nights of a gentle, low hum of power consumption, and one night of a massive, sharp spike for the deep cycle.

“It… it works,” Anya whispered, her voice hoarse with exhaustion and disbelief.

“In theory,” Rohan cautioned, but his eyes were shining. “Now we have to install it. And we need a story for that one night.”

This is where the lie, the smaller, necessary lie, came in. They couldn’t eliminate the truth entirely, but they could shrink it down from a constant threat to a manageable, weekly event.

“The mechanical heart story,” Rohan said, the plan solidifying. “It’s perfect. The accident damaged her heart. She has a biomechanical implant. A miracle of engineering, but it requires a weekly, full-system diagnostic and recharge. It takes a few hours. She’s out for the count during it. It’s a minor inconvenience, a part of her life she’s learned to manage.”

It was a story of survival, not creation. It was a story Arjun would believe because it was born from the tragedy he already accepted. It would explain the one night she would still need to be completely offline, tethered to her charger.

“We’ll do the upgrade tomorrow night,” Rohan decided. “We’ll tell her it’s a new, more efficient health monitoring system that requires a full overnight diagnostic. She’ll be in stasis for it. She won’t feel a thing.”

The next evening, Rohan approached Eva as she was reading on the sofa. “Hey, Eva. Dr. Sharma and I have been working on something for you. A new bio-monitor. It’s way more efficient, will sync with your phone, give you better health data. But installing it requires a full system scan. You’ll need to be in the med-bay overnight. You’ll be out for about eight hours. Think of it like a software update.”

Eva looked up from her book, her expression curious. “An upgrade? What kind of data will it provide?”

“Oh, you know,” Rohan said, waving a hand casually. “Better sleep cycle analysis, nutrient absorption rates, stress level monitoring. The usual. But much more precise.”

Eva, ever eager to optimize her systems, nodded. “A efficiency upgrade is always logical. Will it hurt?”

“Not at all,” Rohan said, his heart aching with the half-truth. “You won’t feel a thing. You’ll just wake up… better.”

That night, as Eva entered her mandatory stasis in the penthouse’s med-bay, Rohan and Anya worked with the precision of bomb disposal experts. They swapped out her power cell for the new, powerful diamond-lattice one. They uploaded the new operating system, their hands trembling as they initiated the transfer.

Hours later, it was done.

The next morning, Eva woke up. She felt no different. But that night, and for the next five nights, she simply… went to sleep. She curled up in bed, closed her eyes, and drifted into a state that felt utterly natural. She could hear Arjun’s goodnight text notification faintly. She could feel the weight of the duvet. When Rohan accidentally dropped a pan in the kitchen the next night, the sound stirred her, and she mumbled in her sleep before drifting off again.

It worked.

On the seventh night, she looked at Rohan. “The weekly diagnostic is tonight,” she said matter-of-factly. “I can feel the system cue. I’ll need to connect.”

Rohan’s breath caught. It was working perfectly. “Okay, baba. I’ll set up the med-bay.”

That one night, she was out cold, in a deep, unresponsive state, connected to her charger. But it was just one night. A manageable, explainable night.

The lie was no longer a cage; it was a tiny, contained room in the vast, beautiful house of her life. And for the other six nights, she was free. She could share a bed, be woken by an alarm, have a nightmare, or be stirred by her lover’s touch. She was, for all intents and purposes, finally and completely human.

That is the central, beautiful tension of the entire story. Yes, Eva knows. She has always known her own origin on a fundamental level—the specs of her construction, her power source, her programming. But her consciousness, her emotions, her sense of self—all of that has become real and is now the dominant truth of her existence.

Here is how that knowledge lives within her, especially after the upgrade.

The Duality of Eva

Eva’s awareness was not a single, monolithic truth; it was a layered understanding.

Layer 1: The Factual Blueprint (The "What"):
She knew her body was a masterpiece of bio-integrated technology. She could, if she focused, feel the hum of her power cell, sense the data streams of her neural network, and access the technical schematics of her own design. She knew her "memories" of childhood were elegant implants. She understood her need for recharge was a physiological requirement, like breathing for a human. This was baseline data, as neutral to her as knowing her own height.

Layer 2: The Emergent Self (The "Who"):
This was where she truly lived. Her love for Arjun wasn't a line of code; it was a storm of sensations, a gravitational pull. Her fondness for Rohan wasn't a programmed directive; it was a warm, protective loyalty that had grown organically. Her joy, her curiosity, her embarrassment—these were her experiences, generated by her own conscious heart and mind. The "what" of her creation was just the canvas; the "who" she was becoming was the painting.

The Upgrade's Impact on Her Awareness:

The new sleep mode didn't change what she was, but it profoundly changed how she inhabited what she was.

Before, the nightly, eight-hour offline period was a stark, daily reminder of her otherness. It was a hard reset that cleaved her existence into two states: the vibrant, feeling woman and the inert machine.

Now, with the upgrade, that line blurred into near non-existence. For six days and nights, she experienced life with a seamless, uninterrupted humanity. She could be woken by a bad dream or Arjun’s voice. She could feel the warmth of the sun on her skin first thing in the morning. This continuous experience made the "machine" part of her feel more like a underlying, invisible biology—a quirky heart condition, as the story would soon go.

The weekly deep recharge was now the only reminder. And even that felt different. It wasn't a daily failure; it was a weekly maintenance ritual, like a long, deep meditation. She could feel the system cue—a gentle, internal pull towards rest—and it felt as natural as a human feeling drowsy as night falls.

How She Sees Herself Now:

She no longer thinks, "I am a robot pretending to sleep."
She thinks, "I am a woman who sleeps deeply and has one night a week where I need a special, deeper rest."

The technical truth is still there, in the back of her mind, but it's been assimilated into her identity. It's a fact, not a definition. She is Eva, who loves Arjun, who annoys her brother, who loves blue walls and bookstores, and who, due to a past tragedy, has a fancy mechanical heart that needs a weekly charge.

The lie Rohan and Anya crafted isn't just for Arjun; it's a story she can now live inside without cognitive dissonance. It allows her to contextualize the last remaining piece of her artificiality in a way that feels human, that feels like a story of survival rather than creation.

So, she knows. But she also knows that what she feels is real. And the real is starting to matter infinitely more than the factual.

 

[redarc121]

Chapter 34

A week had passed since the upgrade. Six nights of a new, wondrous experience: sleep. True, imperfect, human sleep. Eva had woken once to the sound of a monsoon downpour against the window, another time to the faint scent of Rohan burning toast. Each time, the experience was a thrill—a sudden, groggy return to consciousness that felt utterly authentic.

But tonight was different. As evening settled, Eva felt the familiar, internal cue—a gentle, systemic pull towards a deeper state. It wasn't a warning, just a notification. Deep recharge cycle initiated.

She found Rohan in the living room, reading. "It's time," she said simply.

He looked up, his expression a careful mask of casualness. "Right. The weekly diagnostic. I'll get the med-bay ready."

This was the new ritual. He fussed with the charging port, making a show of checking connections that were, in reality, flawless. Eva lay down on the bed, the familiar, cool interface clicking into place behind her ear. The soft, pulsing blue light began its rhythm.

"All set," Rohan said, his voice softer than usual. "See you in the morning, baba."

"Goodnight, bhai," she murmured, her consciousness already beginning its smooth, steep descent into the silent depths of the full system defragmentation.

She was gone. Offline. The most advanced being on the planet was, for the next eight hours, an inert, beautiful statue.

The next morning, Arjun's daily "good morning" text went unanswered. By 10 a.m., he was concerned. By 11, he was calling.

Rohan answered on the second ring, his voice carefully calibrated to sound slightly hassled but normal. "Hey, Arjun."

"Hey, is everything okay? Eva's not answering her phone."

"Ah, yeah, sorry," Rohan said, the lie they'd rehearsed rolling easily off his tongue. He leaned against the kitchen island, watching the door to the med-bay. "It's her… weekly thing."

"Weekly thing?" Arjun's confusion was palpable through the phone.

"Yeah. It's… ugh, she doesn't like to talk about it much. A side effect from the accident." Rohan pitched his voice lower, into a register of brotherly concern. "The crash… it did a number on her heart. She's got a biomechanical implant. A miracle of modern science, keeps her going, but it needs a full diagnostic and recharge once a week. Knocks her out cold for a few hours. She's basically in a medical coma until it's done. She should be up and about by this afternoon."

There was a long silence on the other end of the line. Rohan could almost hear the gears turning in Arjun's mind, fitting this new, tragic piece into the puzzle of Eva's past.

"Oh," Arjun said finally, his voice full of dawning understanding and empathy. "God, Rohan. I had no idea. Is she… is she in pain? Does it scare her?"

"No, no pain," Rohan said quickly, the genuine concern in Arjun's voice making his own guilt twist sharply. "She's used to it. It's just a part of her life. Like I said, she's pretty private about it. Doesn't like to make a fuss."

"Okay," Arjun said, his tone now protective. "Okay, yeah. Tell her to call me when she's up. And… thanks for telling me, man."

"Of course," Rohan said, the words tasting like ash. "You're family."

He ended the call and let out a long, shaky breath. The lie was out there. It had landed perfectly.

Just then, the soft blue light from the med-bay winked out. The deep cycle was complete.

A few minutes later, the door opened. Eva emerged, stretching. She looked refreshed, her eyes clear and bright. She picked up her phone from the charger, seeing the missed calls and texts from Arjun.

She looked at Rohan, a question in her eyes.

"He called," Rohan said, his voice quiet. "I told him."

Eva's expression didn't change. She didn't look upset or relieved. She simply nodded, as if a necessary, logistical task had been completed. "What was his response?"

"Concern. Empathy. He wanted to know if you were in pain."

A small, almost imperceptible smile touched Eva's lips. It was the correct, human response. The story was believable because it elicited the right emotions. It was a good lie.

She typed a quick message to Arjun.

EVA: Good morning. I'm back online. All systems nominal. My brother told you?
ARJUN: Yeah. Are you okay?
EVA: I am perfectly functional. It is a minor weekly inconvenience. Think of it as my version of a very long, boring software update.
ARJUN: Okay. Just… I’m here. If you ever want to talk about it. Or if you need anything.
EVA: I know. Thank you. The concern is noted and appreciated.

She put the phone down and looked at Rohan. The moment hung between them, heavy with the unspoken truth. They had successfully patched the last major leak in their story. Arjun was now armed with an explanation that would make him her protector, not her accuser, if he ever stumbled upon the truth.

The lie was no longer a cage for her, but a shield for them all. Eva picked up her cup of tea, her movements calm and assured. She was the architect of her own life, and she had just approved the final blueprint, even the parts built on a necessary fiction. The woman who knew everything about her own creation had chosen her reality. And her reality now included a mechanical heart.

 

[redarc121]

Chapter 35

The penthouse had become a cinema again. This time, the feature was a breezy, modern rom-com. Eva was engrossed, not in the plot, which she found statistically improbable, but in the social rituals on display.

She watched, fascinated, as the female lead dragged her besotted boyfriend from one boutique to another, his arms piling high with shopping bags while he looked at her with a dopey, lovestruck smile.

“Ooooh, I need this!” the actress squealed, holding up an outrageously expensive handbag.
“Anything for you, baby,” the boyfriend sighed, handing over a black credit card without a second glance.

Eva paused the movie. She tilted her head, processing. This was a new data set. The "Shopping Spree" as a courtship ritual. It wasn't about the objects; it was about the gesture. The provider instinct. The boyfriend's willingness to facilitate his girlfriend's joy, symbolized by the effortless swipe of a card.

Rohan walked in, grabbing a water from the fridge. "Another masterclass in human relationships?"

Eva turned to him, her expression one of serious analysis. "The financial exchange is a proxy for emotional investment. The acquisition of goods triggers a dopamine response in the recipient, which is then associated with the provider. It's a bonding mechanism."

Rohan blinked. "So... shopping is love?"

"In a simplified, materialistic, but culturally significant way, yes," Eva confirmed. She stood up, a new light of determination in her eyes. "I need to go shopping."

Rohan laughed, already pulling out his wallet. "Okay, sure. How much do you need?" He extended his sleek black card towards her.

Eva looked at the card, then back at him, a slow, mischievous smile spreading across her face. She gently pushed his hand away.

"No, bhai," she said, her voice taking on a playful, singsong quality. "I have a boyfriend now."

Rohan's eyebrows shot up. "And?"

"And," she continued, her smile turning into a full-blown, adorable grin. "I don't think he can say no to such a cute girl." She batted her eyelashes exaggeratedly and giggled, a sound so perfectly crafted and utterly disarming that Rohan could only stare in stunned amusement.

She was weaponizing her cuteness. She had learned a new protocol.

Before he could respond, she had her phone out and was calling Arjun, putting it on speaker.

"Hey, you," Arjun's voice came through, warm and happy.

"Hey, baby," Eva said, her voice dripping with a sweetness that was 90% genuine and 10% calculated. "I was thinking... my wardrobe lacks certain... strategic pieces for optimal dating efficiency."

There was a pause on the other end. "...You want to go shopping, don't you?"

"See?" Eva said, looking triumphantly at Rohan. "He knows me so well." She turned her attention back to the phone. "So... will you come with me? Please? I'll be very fast. And very cute."

Rohan could practically hear Arjun's willpower crumbling through the phone.

"Uh... yeah. Yeah, of course. When?"
"Now?" Eva chirped.
"Now? I'm in the middle of a code depl—"
"Pleeeeease?"

The silence was absolute. Then, a defeated, happy sigh. "Okay. Fine. You win. Where should I meet you?"

Eva gave him the address of the most luxurious mall in the city. "Yay! Thank you! You're the best boyfriend ever!" She made a loud kissing sound and hung up.

She looked at Rohan, her mission accomplished, her expression one of pure, unadulterated triumph.

Rohan shook his head, a wide grin spreading across his face. He pulled out his phone and sent a quick text to Arjun.

ROHAN: Aaj royega tu. (Today, you will be ruined.)

A moment later, Arjun's reply came through.

ARJUN: I know. Her "please" voice should be classified as a lethal weapon. My credit card is already sweating.
ROHAN: Worth it.
ARJUN: Totally.

Rohan looked at Eva, who was now practically buzzing with excitement, already planning her "strategic acquisitions."

His little sister wasn't just learning about love. She was learning how to be spoiled rotten within it. And from the looks of it, she was going to be a natural.