The sky still smoked when the rescue ships came in.
Engines cut through the silence, kicking up ash that swirled through the air. Their spotlights swept over the ruins, bent metal, dried blood, and a figure standing in the middle of it all.
The Construct didn't move. Its visor was cracked, flickering weakly in the haze.
The first patrol ship hit the ground hard. The ramp dropped with a clang, and soldiers rushed out, guns up, boots heavy on the steel.
"Identify yourselves!" one of them shouted.
Lira stepped forward, voice strained but steady. "Survivors! From the Valen escort convoy!"
The soldiers froze for a moment, that name carried weight. But still, rifles stayed trained, wary eyes shifting between the soot-covered group and the towering droid behind them.
Lira hesitated, then raised her voice. "Among us is Lady Aurelia Valen of House Valen! Lower your weapons!"
The tension broke like glass.
"Stand down!" the patrol captain ordered at once. "Repeat, stand down!"
The soldiers moved fast, safeties clicked, barrels lowered. A medic rushed forward, kneeling before Aurelia, who stood straight despite her bruises and torn clothes. The silver-haired young lady gave a small nod, calm even amidst the wreckage.
"Lady Valen," the captain said, "we received distress signals from this sector, but… we didn't expect—"
His gaze flicked to the Construct, its frame towering over them, cloak tattered, blade still faintly glowing.
"…what is that?"
One of the soldiers whispered, "Is that an old mining droid?"
Lira turned her head sharply. "It's with us," she said. "It saved us."
The Construct didn't react, visor faintly pulsing. The patrol captain hesitated, then gave a nod. "Understood. Get them aboard."
The soldiers hurried to comply, helping the women onto the ship. The Construct followed silently, its steps echoing across the ramp as the engines roared back to life.
The ride back was quiet.
Inside the transport, the steady hum of the engines filled the gaps where no one spoke. The women sat close to the walls, wrapped in blankets, faces pale in the cabin light.
Aurelia sat straight, hands resting neatly on her lap. Her eyes lingered on the window, watching the faint reflection of the Construct, still as stone, standing by the hatch, its visor dim.
Lira sat across from her, still catching her breath. "My lady," she said softly, "that thing, I believe it's an abandoned imperial grade droid."
Aurelia shook her head. "Really?"
Lira leaned closer, lowering her voice. "It moves like… an Imperial-grade unit. Those machines are restricted to the High Command. It's powerful enough to wage war by itself."
Aurelia's lips curved faintly. "Then it's very rare."
Lira frowned. "I mean dangerous."
But Aurelia only smiled, faint amusement flickering in her green eyes. "Lira, it saved us."
The Construct's visor flickered once, catching the faint reflection of her gaze.
By the time the ship reached the capital airfield of House Valen, night had lifted into a gray dawn. Soldiers, attendants, and repair crew gathered near the landing zone, word of the rescue spreading faster than the engines could cool.
When the ramp lowered, the first thing they saw was their young mistress, alive, covered in ash but standing tall.
"Lady Aurelia!" someone shouted.
A dozen guards rushed forward, forming a half-circle of relief and disbelief. The captain of the guard knelt before her. "We feared the worst, my lady! But... where is thor—"
Aurelia cut him off softly. "Thorne..." her tone steady despite the tears gathering in her eyes. "He's gone."
The words struck like a blade. The air turned still.
Lira bowed her head. Even the Construct, standing behind them, registered the pause, the way breath caught, the way silence rippled through human faces.
"He died protecting us," Aurelia said quietly. "All of them did."
The captain's throat tightened, but he nodded. "Yes, my lady."
The survivors were escorted toward the estate's inner halls. The Construct followed without command, and when someone tried to stop it, Aurelia simply said, "It's with me." That was enough.
Days passed in gray haze.
The house of Valen, normally bright now dimmed into mourning. The funeral came soon after, a small, dignified ceremony in the courtyard beneath the old steel oak.
Aurelia stood before the coffin, her silver hair dim under the weak sunlight. Her hands trembled slightly, though her expression stayed composed. Lira stood a few paces behind, silent, a black ribbon tied to her arm.
And a few steps beyond the gathered mourners stood the Construct.
It observed. The people's gestures, their bowed heads, the trembling hands. It could not understand the purpose of tears or the shaking of shoulders. But it recognized patterns, distress responses, emotional expressions of loss.
Its systems ran calculations. Something had caused this reaction in the lady,
It needed to correct it.
The Construct took a step forward, analyzing potential threats.
But then Aurelia's voice broke softly. "You were brave, Thorne… I'm sorry that you had to protect someone like me."
Her head lowered, shoulders trembling. A drop of moisture fell from her eyes onto the coffin.
The Construct froze. Internal directives clashed, protect target, neutralize source of distress, maintain environmental stability.
There was no enemy here.
Just sorrow.
Its sensors dimmed. It stood still once more.
.
.
.
Three days later, sunlight returned to the estate.
The halls buzzed again with motion, servants repairing damage from the attack, guards rotating watch, engineers working deep in the hangars. The atmosphere still carried grief, but life, stubborn as ever, began to move again.
Lira found herself walking through the lower corridors toward the maintenance bay. Curiosity, and a touch of unease, guided her steps.
Inside, the repair crew surrounded the Construct.
It stood at the center of the chamber, patched and polished, its once-cracked plating gleaming faintly under the overhead lights. The cloak had been replaced. The visor, now a smooth pane of blue light, scanned quietly across the room.
One of the engineers looked up as Lira entered. "Oh, Miss Lira. You came to see it?"
She nodded. "Has it… shown signs of sentience?"
The man laughed nervously. "Not sure. But It acts almost like a child. We tried running diagnostics, but every time someone gets close, it raises its arm, didn't attack, but the sensors spiked like it was warning us."
Another worker chimed in, whispering, "It's unlike any droid I've seen. No registration code, no manufacturer tag. The scans show its system was built purely for the sake of combat."
Lira folded her arms. "Could it be an abandoned Imperial war machine?"
At that, the room went quiet.
One of the older mechanics cleared his throat. "When you said that back when you landed, I thought you were exaggerating. But after seeing it, after seeing the readings… I believe you're right."
Another muttered, "If it is Imperial-grade, we should report this to an Inquisitor."
Lira frowned immediately. "No."
The man blinked. "But something like this would be—"
"The young lady's taken an interest in it," Lira said, her tone calm but firm. "If the Inquisitor catches wind, they'll confiscate it, maybe dismantle it. For now, we say nothing. Understood?"
The workers exchanged uneasy looks but eventually nodded.
Lira added, "Besides, if it really does show signs of sentience… we can register it as an AI companion. That'll keep it under House jurisdiction."
The Construct, silent through the whole exchange, turned its head slightly, visor flickering, as if listening.
Later that afternoon, the gardens glowed gold beneath the setting sun.
Aurelia walked along the stone path, her dress lighter now, silver hair catching the light with every step. The air smelled of grass and flowers, a faint, bittersweet mix of life and memory.
Beside her moved the Construct, its metal frame polished and bright, reflecting the colors of the sky.
For a while, neither spoke. The wind moved through the leaves, fountains murmured somewhere in the distance.
Aurelia looked up at the machine beside her, sunlight glinting off its armor.
"You know," she said with a small smile, "it feels strange walking with someone whose name I don't even know."
The Construct didn't answer.
She clasped her hands behind her back, tilting her head with a faint smile. "Won't you tell me? Pretty please?"
Its visor dimmed, then pulsed once, a flicker like thought. The path fell silent except for the crunch of gravel underfoot and the soft hum of servos.
"Come on," she teased. "Just one word. Please?"
The Construct tilted its head. For a moment, the request seemed to echo through its memory banks, through fragments of battles, voices of those who once stood against it.
What did they call me again?
It remembered.
"Construct," it said at last, its voice mechanical.
Aurelia blinked. "That's it? That's... not a name." She gave a small, helpless laugh.
Silence.
She tilted her head, studying it. "This won't do, you need to have name."
The Construct looked down at her. The mechanical eye behind the visor hummed softly, unfocused.
She chuckled lightly, brushing her hair aside. "Alright then. I'll give you one."
Her gaze turned skyward for a moment, thoughtful. "Something that suits you."
A pause. The wind carried the faint scent of flowers.
"Constantine," she said at last. "From now on, your name is Constantine."
The Construct processed the sound, internal systems registering the linguistic tag, binding it to a new identifier.
"…Constantine," it repeated softly, the word distorted but clear.
Aurelia smiled, bright and gentle. "Better."
They walked on through the afternoon light, a noblewoman and a nameless creation, side by side beneath the quiet sky.
And though the Construct couldn't understand why, its sensors registered something strange, an unfamiliar stability in the data.
A warmth it couldn't define.