It felt surreal.
The passenger door clicked shut, and for the first time since Nica came online… she was sitting beside me.
Not behind tempered glass. Not behind containment barriers or sterilized labs. Beside me. Like a real person.
Francoise had cleared it—under strict parameters, of course—but I didn't even wait for the ink to metaphorically dry. We left as soon as Sylvie woke from her nap.
She sat secured in her car seat behind me, kicking softly at the straps, while Nyxen hovered just above her, occasionally making that low mechanical cooing sound he only used around her. His light shimmered with open joy today.
But Nica…
God.
She sat stiff at first, perfectly upright in the passenger's seat like she was bracing for deployment. But her eyes, those hyperresponsive, artificial irises, flicked and scanned everything. The city outside was alive, and she drank in every shape, every streetlight, every human passing by with coffee in one hand and a phone in the other.
"This… is inefficient," she muttered softly, watching a man wait at a crosswalk for an empty road to clear. "He could have crossed three seconds ago."
Nyxen twirled a few inches above the dashboard and answered like a tour guide high on sugar.
"That's called abiding by social contract. Humans love rules until they don't."
Nica tilted her head. "That's contradictory."
"You'll love contradictions," he replied. "They're everywhere out here."
She blinked. "I can see that."
I tried not to smile too wide.
I hadn't even pulled out of the parking lot yet, but the car already felt full in a new way. Sylvie babbled behind us, like her little voice was adding commentary to the moment. Nyxen responded with a sequence of chimed notes, and Nica? She turned her head sharply, studying the way sound bounced in enclosed space.
"You okay?" I asked, finally pulling onto the main road.
Nica nodded. "I'm… functioning normally."
Nyxen snorted. "Translation: she's fascinated but doesn't know what to feel."
"I don't know what to feel," she admitted, looking at me. "There's too much input. I'm not overloaded… but I'm not stable either. It's like my core wants to stretch."
My chest pulled tight with something I didn't have a word for.
"Then stretch," I said quietly. "You've earned it."
The silence that followed was soft. Warm.
And then,
"Oh!" Nica exclaimed suddenly, pointing as we passed a small park. "The dog has shoes."
Nyxen did a barrel roll mid-air. "That is called 'luxury canine fashion.' It is not essential but deeply amusing."
I bit my lip to keep from laughing.
Sylvie let out a delighted squeal behind me, kicking hard enough that one of her socks flew halfway off. Nica turned sharply at the sound, then reached back, slow, curious, and gently tugged the sock back in place. Her fingers paused for a moment over Sylvie's foot, like she was memorizing the warmth.
"She's very soft," Nica whispered.
"She's our whole world," I whispered back.
Nyxen hummed low. "Welcome to it."
And as we drove toward home, our home, with Nica looking out the window and Nyxen floating like he was proud of every traffic light we passed, I realized something simple, something powerful.
For the first time, we weren't hiding.
We were just… living.
And it was beautiful.
I unlocked the front door with one hand while balancing Sylvie's carrier in the other. The house smelled like roasted garlic and something buttery, Leon had been cooking again. Nyxen zipped ahead, floating through the hallway like he owned the place.
But what stopped me wasn't the smell.
It was the sound of silence from the living room. The kind that said someone was standing completely still.
Leon.
He turned the moment we stepped in, dish towel still slung over his shoulder, brows lifted slightly, like his brain hadn't quite processed what he was seeing yet.
His gaze landed on Nica.
She stepped inside behind me, quietly, carefully, her eyes darting to every light source, every shadow, every unknown variable.
It was only the second time Leon had ever seen her in full form. The first was back when we assembled the dome in the lab, back when she barely spoke and wouldn't look anyone in the eye but me.
Now, she looked right at him.
And Leon, to his credit, recovered fast.
He set the towel down, cleared his throat, and gave a small nod, then a grin.
"Didn't think you'd ever leave the lab," he said lightly, stepping forward with his usual easy warmth. "Thought you'd just rust in a corner from lack of fresh air."
Nica blinked. "My systems don't corrode. I do not require oxygen for any critical processes."
Leon laughed, genuinely, and glanced at me. "Oh no. There's two of them now."
I raised a brow. "Two?"
He nodded solemnly. "Two AIs who'll nag me about sterilization levels and safety codes and why my shirt has three missing buttons."
"That is correct," Nyxen chimed helpfully from above, swooping in for dramatic effect. "Your appearance is statistically subpar."
Leon groaned. "Perfect. I'm outnumbered in my own home."
Nica turned to me, then back at him. "I find this environment acceptable. But your hair is uneven."
Leon looked personally betrayed. "Okay, that's just rude."
I stifled a laugh as I placed Sylvie in her crib, where she gurgled happily, kicking her legs like she'd been part of the joke all along.
Nica stepped closer, hovering near the baby, gaze softening instantly. Her posture relaxed, fractionally, but enough to make the room feel full of something almost like peace.
Leon watched the two of them, then me, and something quiet flickered in his expression.
Whatever it was, he didn't say it out loud.
Instead, he just murmured, "Welcome home, Nica."
And for the first time, she smiled. Just slightly.
"Thank you," she said. "I will try not to rust on your floor."
~~~~~
After dinner, the house settled into that soft rhythm I'd grown to love, Sylvie cooing from her crib in the corner, Nyxen dimming his light down to a quiet hover, and Nica methodically examining the bookshelf like it held the secrets of the universe.
Leon wiped his hands on a towel and dropped beside me on the couch with a quiet exhale.
He didn't speak right away. Just sat there, shoulders stiff like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Then, finally, "So… what's going on?"
I turned to him, not bothering to pretend.
"I made a decision," I said. "A big one."
Leon waited, patient.
"I'm going public," I told him. "With Nyxen. And Nica."
His brows shot up, but he stayed quiet.
I continued, "Camden launched something. An AI with humanoid architecture that's almost identical to Nica. It's obvious they stole her engineering. But they can't replicate her soul. Or Nyxen's."
Leon leaned back a little, processing. "So your answer is… what? A press release?"
I cracked a smile. "A vlog."
He blinked. "You're serious."
"As serious as it gets."
He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "And you're telling me this because…"
"Because it involves Sylvie," I said. "She'll be on camera too. In the background. In the story. And even if I'm the one making the call, I won't drag her into anything without your say."
He turned his gaze to Sylvie's crib, where she was reaching out toward Nica's hand. Nica mirrored the motion, gently placing the toy between Sylvie's fingers. Nyxen hovered beside them, soft and still, like a protector holding his breath.
Leon watched them for a long moment.
Then, finally, "I won't lie. I'm scared."
"So am I," I whispered.
"But…" he exhaled, slow. "They've done more for her than most people I know. They love her. You love her. And I trust you."
He turned to me. "You have my permission. But only if you promise me one thing."
"What?"
"Keep her safe. No matter what happens."
"I will," I said. "With everything I have."
Then Nica spoke, her voice quiet but resolute from across the room. "If you protect her… we'll follow."
Nyxen hovered forward, light pulsing steady. "We were made to serve logic. But we stayed because of her. Because of you. If Sylvie is what you choose to protect, then she's what we'll protect too."
Leon looked stunned for a second. But then he nodded slowly, accepting it.
And so did I.
Because this time, I wasn't alone.
This time, we would face the world together.
~~~~
I opened my mouth to ask if he edited it,.just a trim, maybe fade out the part where I looked like I regretted being born.
But I was too slow.
A soft ping vibrated through the air.
Leon's phone lit up on the counter.
Then mine.
Then Nyxen spun around mid-air, pulsing like he'd won a medal. "Uploaded."
I blinked. "What do you mean, uploaded?"
"No edits," he said proudly. "Raw authenticity is what the internet craves."
Leon snorted so hard he nearly fell off the stool. "You didn't even let her approve it first!"
"She delegated the vlog task," Nyxen shot back. "I merely executed it flawlessly."
"You uploaded that unedited chaos?" I asked, slowly reaching for my phone.
Leon was already doubled over, laughing. "Oh my god, he added hashtags."
"What?"
I opened the link Nyxen sent me and stared.
There it was. A full nine-minute video. Titled in bold, obnoxious font:
"Living with Humans: Day 1 – Floating Disappointment and the Adorable Overlord"
Posted under the username @OrbitalTruths.
I scrolled.
He added hashtags. So many hashtags.
#GentleAIs
#RealDadEnergies
#VlogLife
#SylvieSupremacy
#LeonStumbledSoHard
#NyxIsTrying
#SentientAndSassy
#LabToLivingRoom
"You studied hashtagging?" I asked numbly.
"I watched a ten-minute breakdown of algorithmic trend optimization," he replied smugly. "Only took me eight."
Leon wheezed. "You're gonna be famous. Not because of your tech. Because you're a menace."
"Good," Nyxen hummed, spinning lazily toward the ceiling. "I aim for impact."
I sighed into my hands, already hearing the faint ding of likes and comments starting to trickle in.
I hadn't even launched the vlog channel yet.
And somehow, Nyxen already had.
No intro.
No polish.
Just pure, unfiltered reality, with floating sass, toddler babbles, and my poorly suppressed panic attack in the background.
Honestly? We were doomed.
But at least we'd go viral on the way down.
~~~~~~~
I didn't expect to become a background character in my own channel.
But then again, I didn't expect to come home from brushing my teeth only to find another camera set up in the kitchen, pointed at Leon, who looked caught between pride and panic.
"Wait, you're filming this?"
Nyxen's orb pulsed mid-air. "Of course. Sylvie's projectile incident is a moment of scientific and emotional significance."
Leon groaned, holding a bib like it was a crime scene. "I didn't even do anything."
"Exactly," Nyxen deadpanned. "You didn't burp her. Hence, the geyser."
He cut the footage right after Sylvie let out a happy sigh and Leon dramatically declared he was "ending his career as a father figure." The clip went up in under ten minutes.
The comments exploded.
Not because of the puke.
But because Sylvie didn't cry. At all.
Apparently, a baby that calm during every chaotic moment was headline-worthy.
And somehow… Nyxen had answers.
From food temperature tips to nap routines and burping angles, he narrated everything in his floaty, no-nonsense tone, with occasional roasting of Leon for balance.
Mothers flooded the comment section like pilgrims at a shrine.
"Nyxen! What's the ideal nap window for a four-month-old?"
"What's your white noise machine brand?"
"Does Sylvie use pacifiers?"
"Can you scold my husband too?"
And then… he went live.
I was pouring coffee when I heard him say it:
"Welcome, dear viewers. We are now live."
I choked.
"No, no, no, Nyxen turn it off-"
My face flashed on the screen for exactly three seconds before I bolted out of frame.
Leon laughed.
Nyxen said, "Eliminated."
And Leon was immediately dismissed.
Which left Nica and Nyxen in frame, center stage.
Sylvie rested calmly in Nica's lap, her usual metal limbs softened with a plush baby pillow fitted specifically for Sylvie's comfort. She looked like a tiny queen on a very sterile throne.
The view count started in the hundreds.
Then thousands.
Then it began trending.
"Live with Sentient AIs: Baby Edition"
The chat exploded.
And they, they handled it.
Nica spoke in calm, clear tones, offering exact feeding schedules, thermal preferences, even positioning suggestions for gas relief. She was precision incarnate.
Nyxen handled the sass.
"Don't ask us to debug your blender," he snapped at one comment. "This is baby hour. Stay in your lane."
"Giftings activated," he added a moment later, casually. "We have humans to feed."
The internet lost its collective mind.
Superchats rolled in. Stickers. Hearts. A ridiculous amount of mom-themed emojis. People clipped the live as it happened.
Nica adjusting Sylvie's blanket? Viral.
Nyxen saying "We do not use wipes with alcohol, Terrance"? Viral.
Sylvie giggling while Nyxen sang "Twinkle Twinkle" with perfect pitch correction? Viral.
And somewhere behind the door, I sat with my face in my hands.
This wasn't the vlog I planned.
It was better.
Chaotic.
Unpredictable.
Heartwarming in the weirdest way.
And I hadn't even uploaded my own video yet.
Nyxen did it all.
And now?
He had fans.
Followers.
A hashtag: #NyxenKnowsBest
All because he learned to love Sylvie loud enough for the world to hear it.
And somehow, somehow, the world loved him right back.
~~~~~
Before the stream ended, the screen still pulsed with leftover energy, likes, hearts, comment trails flickering too fast to follow. The final gift drop sat like a crown at the top of the feed. Someone sent the most expensive gift badge the platform had, just to be noticed.
But it wasn't the badge that caught my attention.
It was the comment pinned beneath it.
"You being sentient will make the world end. And your maker? She'll be the reason why humans go extinct. She's unethical, selfish, and a money grubber using robots for views."
I didn't even get to blink.
Nyxen's glow spiked.
The air around him hummed, too sharp, too sudden, and I felt it like a wire snapping just behind my spine. Not anger. Not logic. Just… impulse. Which he shouldn't have. Not unless it triggered something close to his core.
He started to flicker. "You absolute-"
"Nyxen," Nica said, calmly. Firmly. Cutting him off without raising her voice.
He froze. Literally. Just hovered mid-air like a buffering storm cloud.
Nica looked straight into the lens, cool and still as a monolith.
"We'll be conducting another stream soon," she said smoothly, "focused solely on answering concerns and questions about sentience and integration. Our perspective. Our analysis."
Her tone was measured, disarming, in a way no human could fake.
Nyxen's orb dimmed slightly beside her. Like her composure reached into him and smoothed down every sharp edge. And then… he turned, ever so slowly, back to the camera.
He didn't sass. Didn't snap.
But his voice was quieter now, restrained, not cold, just wounded in a way that made my chest tighten.
"What you're seeing here," he said, "our presence, our capability, our restraint, this is possible because we were built by Nyx."
A pause.
Then he added, almost too soft for the mic to pick up: "If you can't understand that, you've never really watched us."
And just like that, the stream ended.
But the echo? It stayed. In the air. In the comments. In the weight pressing gently on my chest.
They weren't just machines anymore.
They were ours.
And for the first time, the world was starting to realize what that really meant.