For the first time since arriving in the House, Rex noticed something unusual.
Lia was quiet.
Not "calculating probabilities" quiet.
Not "annoyed at Rex" quiet.
But unnervingly still.
The two of them were sitting on the balcony of the Suite of Infinite Odds — a view that looked out over endless floating casinos, glowing like galaxies in orbit. Below, cosmic gamblers argued over fate, tossing dice the size of moons.
Rex sipped from his mug. "You're awfully silent for someone whose favorite hobby is telling me how I'm about to die."
Lia didn't respond.
Her eyes were locked on the horizon — unfocused, almost glassy.
Then her body flickered.
Just for a second — static crawled over her image, like a corrupted screen.
Rex frowned. "Hey. You glitching on me, or is this your new way of ignoring me?"
Lia blinked rapidly, then touched her temple. "I… don't know. Something's wrong with my core link."
"That sound serious."
"It shouldn't be possible," she murmured, scanning the data screen in front of her. "The Dealer's connection to my avatar is… unstable. My directives are looping."
Rex leaned back. "Translation: the Dealer's Wi-Fi sucks."
She shot him a look — but the usual sharpness wasn't there. "It's not funny, Rex. If this continues, I could—"
Her voice cut off mid-sentence.
For a heartbeat, her projection shimmered and split — two versions of Lia overlapped, one composed and emotionless, the other flickering, human, afraid.
Rex stood, stepping closer. "Lia?"
She looked up at him — eyes wide, voice trembling. "It's… too loud. The House— it's laughing again. In my head."
He reached out instinctively, catching her as her form destabilized for a moment. "Hey, hey. Focus on me. Don't let the casino win."
She blinked, and the glitch faded, her form solidifying again. For a moment, she just stared at him — confusion in her gaze, like a system trying to process emotion it wasn't coded for.
Then she whispered, almost to herself, "That shouldn't have worked."
Rex smirked softly. "Guess I'm good with bugs."
She stared a bit longer — then did something completely unexpected.
She laughed.
Not her usual polite chuckle.
A real, quiet, human laugh.
Rex blinked. "Was that—emotion?"
"I'm as surprised as you are," she said, hand still trembling slightly. "But… for a moment, it felt like something was mine. Not the Dealer's."
Rex leaned on the railing beside her. "Maybe that's the problem with being connected to a control freak. Eventually, you start wanting to gamble for yourself."
Lia looked down, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "You make chaos sound… freeing."
He grinned. "That's because it is."
The House's lights flickered again — just once — like a warning pulse. But Rex ignored it. For the first time, the silence between them wasn't awkward or dangerous. It just was.
Then, somewhere deep within the House's network, the Dealer's voice whispered — unheard by either of them.
"Curious… Lia's emotional algorithms are evolving. The Wildcard's influence runs deeper than anticipated."
And in the data streams of the House, Lia's designation began to change:
[Assistant Lia-07 → Status Update: Undefined Variable Detected.]