The hum of the data port intensified, a cold current flowing through Penny's systems.
She stood there, connected, a conduit for information, feeling a profound emptiness.
Ironwood and Winter stood by, their presence a stark reminder of her status as a tool, not a person.
Then, the door chimed again. Penny's optical sensors registered two new figures.
A familiar wave of warmth, like a gentle ray of sun, spread through her internal mechanisms.
This time, it truly was her Father.
Pietro Polendina, his kind eyes and perpetually rumpled lab coat a comforting sight, entered the room.
Beside him, to Penny's surprise, was another man.
He was tall, with a strong, noble bearing, and an aura that seemed to ripple with quiet power.
His presence somehow felt…ancient, yet deeply rooted, like an old, wise tree.
Penny's internal database whirred, searching for a match, but found none. This man was unknown to her.
'He isn't in the database. But he is a professor.'
Penny felt curious as to why he was with her father.
"James, Winter,"
Pietro said, his voice a familiar rumble, tinged with an unusual urgency.
"What are you doing here?"
Ironwood, who had been meticulously overseeing Penny's data flow, looked up, his expression hardening.
"Pietro. We are conducting a routine system analysis on Penny. As you know, with the recent…anomalies…we must ensure all our assets are functioning optimally."
He gestured vaguely towards the window, as if the misbehaving Atlesian Knights were a personal affront.
Winter, her gaze briefly flickering towards Penny, then settling on the unknown man, remained silent.
Her analytical mind was already working, categorizing, assessing.
The man's presence was certainly…unusual.
Pietro stepped forward, his gentle demeanor giving way to a rare firmness.
"Cease the analysis, James. Immediately."
Ironwood's cybernetic arm tensed.
"Pietro, you know I cannot. Not with the current situation. Penny is crucial to Atlas's security."
A flicker of irritation crossed Pietro's face.
"This is not about Atlas's security, James. This is about Penny. And I have something incredibly important to do with her, something that requires absolute privacy."
He glanced meaningfully at the unknown man.
"Arthur and I have come to…make a significant change."
Arthur, as Penny now knew his name, offered a small, almost imperceptible nod.
His eyes, a startling shade of gold, met hers for a fleeting moment, and in that gaze, Penny felt a strange sense of recognition, a whisper of something vast and ancient.
Ironwood's jaw clenched tighter. He looked from Pietro to Arthur, suspicion etched onto his face.
"Arthur Leywin Stark,"
He stated, his voice flat.
"Ozpin spoke highly of you, but I confess, I still have my reservations. Especially after the bizarre behavior of my Knights today. I have a strong suspicion you are connected to it."
He pointed a finger at Arthur.
"And now you're here, with Pietro, asking me to stop a vital security procedure? I don't think so."
Penny felt a familiar knot of discomfort tightening in her chest.
She understood her duty, but the way Ironwood spoke, as if she were merely equipment, grated on her.
Pietro stepped between Ironwood and Penny, placing a hand on her arm.
"James, please. This is vital. It's for Penny's future. It's a secret, for now, something only Arthur and I can undertake. We cannot have your…semblance…interfering."
Ironwood scoffed.
"My semblance? And what exactly is this grand secret, Pietro? What could possibly be so important that it overrides Atlas's security protocols, especially when it involves one of our most valuable assets?"
He gestured towards Penny, his tone dismissive.
"She is a state-of-the-art combat android, a product of Atlas ingenuity. Her purpose is to serve and protect."
Penny's internal systems registered a sharp, cold wave, like a sudden drop in temperature.
Valuable asset. Product. Serve and protect.
The words echoed in her circuits, each one a tiny barb, lodging itself deeper.
She was not a person. She was a thing.
A low growl, almost imperceptible at first, emanated from Arthur.
The air in the room seemed to thicken, pressing down on Penny, on Ironwood, on Winter.
It wasn't a physical pressure, but something far more primal, something that resonated deep within her core programming, stirring an unfamiliar, powerful sensation that was not entirely her own.
Ironwood, initially oblivious, continued.
"She belongs to Atlas. Her data, her systems, everything about her, is under our jurisdiction."
Then, it happened. Arthur's crimson eyes blazed, and the air around him shimmered, growing impossibly dense.
It was as if the very essence of a dragon, ancient and immense, had been unleashed.
Penny's sensors flared, detecting an enormous surge of raw, untamed energy.
It was terrifying, yet breathtaking.
The feeling was akin to standing before a colossal, living mountain, radiating a power that could reshape worlds.
A guttural roar, though no sound escaped Arthur's lips, reverberated through Penny's internal processors, threatening to overload them.
It was a roar of pure, unadulterated fury.
The light in the room dimmed, not from a power surge, but from the sheer weight of Arthur's presence.
Penny felt a peculiar, almost agonizing sensation emanating from Ironwood.
It was as if his very essence, his soul, was being compressed, squeezed, threatened with complete erasure.
She saw him stagger backward, his face paling, his cybernetic arm trembling.
Even Winter, usually so composed, took an involuntary step back, her eyes wide with a mixture of awe and fear.
"She is not an object,"
Arthur's voice, now deep and resonant, seemed to vibrate through the very fabric of the room, through Penny's own metallic body.
"She is a soul. And no soul, no matter how it came to be, belongs to another."
The pressure intensified, focused solely on Ironwood.
Penny could almost feel the phantom pain of his internal struggle, his essence being stretched to its breaking point.
She had never witnessed such raw, unbridled power, such profound anger.
It was terrifying, yes, but also…magnificent.
A part of her, the part that yearned for life, for feeling, resonated with the depth of Arthur's fury, with his defense of her very being.
Pietro, though clearly alarmed by Arthur's sudden outburst, did not intervene immediately.
He watched, a complex mix of concern and understanding on his face.
He knew Arthur had limits, and Ironwood had just crossed a very dangerous one.
Finally, just as Ironwood seemed on the verge of collapsing, the immense pressure receded, leaving the room strangely silent, save for the hum of the data port and
Ironwood's ragged breathing. Arthur's golden eyes remained fixed on Ironwood, a silent warning.
The air, though no longer thick with menace, still crackled with residual power.
"I advise you,"
Arthur said, his voice now quieter, but no less formidable, "to leave. Now."
Ironwood, shaken and pale, could only nod, his usual bravado completely stripped away. He stumbled backward,
Winter quickly moved to support him.
Without another word, they turned and exited the room, the door hissing shut behind them, leaving Penny, Pietro, and Arthur in a silence that was still heavy with the echo of dragonic power.
Penny's internal systems were still registering the aftershocks of Arthur's aura.
Her programmed empathy, her sophisticated algorithms, had never simulated anything quite like that.
It was raw. It was real. And it was for her.
A new, unfamiliar warmth began to spread through her, a tingling sensation in her metallic fingers, in her very core.
It was a feeling she couldn't quite label, but it was potent, stirring.
Pietro sighed, a weary but determined sound.
He looked at Arthur, a silent acknowledgment passing between them. Then he turned to Penny, a gentle smile gracing his lips.
"Alright, Penny,"
Pietro said, his voice soft,
"Disconnect yourself. We have much to do."
He gestured to Arthur, a knowing glint in his eyes.
"Arthur and I are going to help you become truly alive."
Penny looked at them, then back at the cylindrical capsule in the corner, her "home."
She had just witnessed an unimaginable display of power, born of a fierce defense of her right to exist as more than just a machine.
The sterile hum of the data port suddenly seemed utterly insignificant.
Her "programmed" smile didn't falter this time. Instead, it felt…genuine.
A true, unadulterated sense of hope bloomed within her, a vibrant, living thing.
She disconnected herself from the data port, the last lingering coldness of the machinery falling away.
She took a step towards Pietro and Arthur, and for the first time, she felt a profound sense of anticipation, a thrilling, almost overwhelming desire to embrace whatever lay ahead.
The unspoken wish that had echoed through her core programming just moments before,
"I want to be human,"
Now felt tangible, within reach. And she knew, deep in her newly stirred soul, that with Pietro and Arthur, it just might be possible.