Chapter 11: Countdown

The next morning, ___ woke with a strange feeling in his chest.

It wasn’t anxiety exactly, or sadness. It was heavier than either of those. Like standing on the edge of something and knowing it’s about to end.

He walked to school alone.

Sunspot wasn’t at the usual corner where she sometimes waited. She didn’t text, didn’t call. And yet, even in her absence, he felt her presence more strongly than ever.

When he arrived at school, everything felt too loud. Too normal. Students buzzed through the hallways, laughing, chatting, living lives untouched by silent experiments or glass observation rooms.

He found her near the vending machines before class. She was staring at a can of juice in her hand, unmoving.

“Hey,” he said, approaching slowly.

She turned to look at him. There was something unreadable in her face—tired, maybe, or distracted.

“Hey,” she replied.

An awkward silence followed. Usually, she’d fill it with a joke or tease him about something. But today she just stood there, holding that drink like it was the only thing keeping her grounded.

He hesitated. “Is everything okay?”

She looked away. “They called me last night.”

His heart froze. “The lab?”

She nodded. “They said I’ll be reassigned soon. Maybe next week. Maybe sooner.”

He stared at her, trying to understand the words but unable to process them. “What do you mean reassigned?”

“I mean the experiment is ending, ___.” Her voice was quiet. “They said you’ve learned enough. That they have enough data. That… we’ve done our job.”

His mouth went dry. “But I’m not ready.”

She smiled sadly. “That’s what they always say when it’s working.”

He took a step closer. “I thought we had more time.”

“So did I.”

The bell rang in the distance, but neither of them moved.

___’s mind raced. He remembered every moment they’d shared—every smile, every fight, every confused emotion that had finally started to make sense when he was with her.

“I don’t want this to end,” he said, voice raw.

“Me neither.” She looked up at him, eyes glistening. “But I don’t get to choose. And neither do you.”

For the first time since the experiment started, he felt powerless.

“I thought this was about becoming human,” he said. “About understanding how people connect, how they feel. And now that I finally understand it… they’re taking it away.”

She didn’t argue.

Instead, she reached up and lightly touched his hand.

“It wasn’t supposed to be real,” she whispered. “But it was.”

And that was the worst part of all.

⸻

Back in the lab, the countdown had already begun.

“Three days,” said the silver-haired scientist, staring at the schedule. “Prepare the extraction protocols.”

The woman beside him hesitated. “He’s not going to let her go easily.”

“He’ll have no choice.”

And deep in the observation logs, the final entry was marked