Keeping Old Names is a Human Privilege

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“Freeze!” an Elite Force Division officer hollered, raising his gun before twitching. “Huh? No one’s here?”

As the red smoke gradually dispersed, the officers confronted a disaster: toppled furniture, broken displays, flickering holograms, lengthy scratch marks on the floor, a massive, sizzling hole in a wall, and more.

When their radars detected no life nearby, they lowered their weapons and began to scout for the damages, using their helmets’ cameras to scan around the debris.

“Dispatch, this is the first-response team. The suspect has left the crime scene,” said an officer, tapping his helmet and scanning a dark green hair strand with shades of brown at the end. “DNA scanners confirm the suspect is a wanted android, Radio Jam. Be on the lookout—he may be heavily armed.”

“Heavily armed, you say?”

The team turned toward a 3D hologram manifesting at the center of the room, displaying a tall woman with a low, black ponytail streaked with orange, piercing cyan eyes, and a dark uniform trimmed in gold. She folded her arms and whistled. “My, my, this whole mess could be mistaken for modern art,” she said. “Must’ve been a brutal fight. What a shame I missed out.”

“Sergeant Kirena,” said an officer, saluting. “We’ve discovered that the battle only occurred a few minutes ago. The suspect may still be lingering around the premises.”

“Hmm…” Kirena readjusted her glasses. “What are the chances that the android stole some of our men’s weapons?”

“Very likely.”

The sergeant turned around and waved a hand, her hologram disintegrating. “Then I think I know where he might be. Help clean up the mess in the meantime.”

The team exchanged confused glances before replying, “Affirmative.”

⫿⫼⟁⫼⫿

Sometimes, on nights like this, I wished I could curl up in bed and play my gacha games, but here I was, reading documents that could potentially land my name on another organization’s hit list.

Right after my fight with that detective, I wasted no time zooming toward the hidden office, stealing every byte of data I could find, and escaping with it before the Elite Force Division arrived. I also collected a USB flash drive his sidekick clumsily dropped and took a peek inside it, only to find out it contained the copied files I already gathered from the office.

Drained after all that hassle, I decided to momentarily rest on the museum’s rooftops, leaning against the tallest spire and gazing over the city and its colorful lights. Massive, 3D holograms manifested in the theme of colorful aquatic creatures, slowly swimming over the skyscrapers and circling the city. It was so vibrant that the only thing preventing the city from being mistaken for a coral reef was its system of laws.

Only a few flying vehicles also drove around the sky tonight—hovering no higher than the skyscrapers—and flaunted their new, shining models. Most were cargo and government-owned vehicles, and a fraction were private cars only the richest bastards of this city could ever afford to own. A shame I didn’t finish my job yet—I could’ve decided to hijack one of these cars for pastime.

Heaving a sigh, I figured that now was a good time to inspect the good stuff and hopefully find out what the detective was after… or so I thought.

“What the hell is all of this?” I murmured, squinting at a list of random names, counting around fifty or so. Grim assumptions crossed my mind the more I analyzed the list. None of them rang a bell either…

Wait.

Celia Rosaly.

Wasn’t that the tour guide the detective was watching over? Her name was also here. What could this mean?

I scratched my head and pondered, but with this text document titled “HTS” and utterly zero context behind this, I seriously had no idea. It could be about anything—hell, it could be someone’s weird list of the museum’s staff for all I knew.

“Ugh, whatever. None of my business anyway.” I swiped my hand, tabbed out of my hologram, and spared a moment for some shuteye.

Truth be told, I was a little… nervous about reporting my progress to The Director. What if he got mad? What if he found me useless? What if he threw me away? What if he... sent me back there...?

A dark memory of my time paralyzed in a machinery disposal ground flashed through my mind.

I winced and shook off the vision.

No, I still have time, I thought, massaging my head. I promised him tomorrow morning. Not tonight.

Right. I didn’t leave that fight empty-handed either. I’d uncovered my target’s identity. That pretty much sealed his fate. All I needed to do was to track down where he lived and finish the job. Should be easy eno—

I flinched and raised a force field, blocking a laser bullet right on time. I stumbled back on my feet, gawking at a tall woman with black hair, orange streaks, and bright cyan eyes, wearing a high-ranked Elite Force Division uniform and riding a hoverboard.

The sergeant whistled and playfully twirled her gun. “No wonder you’re on our most wanted list,” she said. “You’ve got impressive reflexes.”

I narrowed my eyes and said, “I’m flattered. Aren’t you too old to use hoverboards?”

“How rude! I’m still in my mid-thirt—”

It was her turn to dodge my shot. She laughed and waved a finger. “Ah, ah! You almost got me there.”

I clicked my tongue. “No wonder you’re a sergeant. You’re annoying as hell.”

“Hah! Speak for yourself, brat. By the way, that weapon's ours. I'd like to have them back—they're hella pricey, y'know.”

I looked down at the rifles and briefly scanned them before clicking my tongue. Of course, these guns had hidden trackers installed. No wonder she found me so easily. Should've known better.

I met her gaze again and said, "Sure thing."

I proceeded to fire away a shower of bullets, but they all hit her blue, geometric force field.

“Hm, it’s such a shame,” she muttered, adjusting her glasses. “Your talents can be of great use to our ranks. How about it? Won’t you surrender and let us talk it through?”

“No. Piss off.”

She stroked her chin. “I’m afraid I can’t ignore you for killing dozens of my men. Tell me, why did you do it?”

I slanted my head. “Hah? They were in my way.”

She raised a brow, analyzing my gaze. “Your words don’t reach your eyes, kid. Why do you look so sad?”

“Huh? Sad? Pfft.” I threw another threatening glare. “I think you need a new pair of glasses, old hag.”

She squinted. “I suppose that means you’re rejecting my offer?”

“What do you think? Do I need to spell it out?”

She shrugged and pulled out a hilt, and with a press of a button, it extended into an electrical, neon-blue sword. “Your loss, brat.” She promptly charged, soaring so fast she threw me off guard and forced me to pull up my shield. I didn’t realize it had low power—or maybe her sword was stronger than I thought—until my shield began to crack.

I angled my shield away and let her sword slide off, slashing the spot beside me. I swiftly kicked off her hoverboard and whacked my gun against her gut, staggering her back while she clutched her stomach.

I raised my rifle and fired again, only for her to dodge them all at alarming speed. It took only a split second for her fist to land a critical blow to my face, punching so hard she messed up my senses.

“Ugh! D-Damn it!” I stumbled backward, dropped my weapon, and clutched my head, my vision splitting into three. I frantically pulled out a cubical device and smashed it against the floor, engulfing the scene with flashy fireworks.

The sergeant grimaced and covered her face, and I used this opportunity to jump off the rooftops and soar away as fast as I could, dropping all the weapons I stole along the way.

I should’ve known better than to pick a fight with an elite, but I couldn’t help it. That detective's words still vexed me.

I always knew I was a malfunction. A failure. A walking flaw of an android. These stupid emotions of mine were proof. I didn’t know why I had them to begin with. I didn’t know who my creator was nor how they screwed me up so badly. I… I just… didn’t know anything anymore…

God, why do I exist? I asked, gazing into the night sky right before a large, flying truck crashed into me.