Elara blinked, her blue eyes slowly focusing on my face.For three full seconds, absolute silence reigned—broken only by the sound of our heartbeats. Then understanding struck her like a war hammer.
"T–T–You…" she stammered, her voice jumping three octaves. "W–WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY BED?!"
"You grabbed me!" I whispered desperately, trying to pry myself free without tearing the silk of her dress. "And Silas says I passed out!"
"Technically, 03, your head hit the carpet first, but she dragged you onto the bed while crying," Julian added with unnecessary precision. "It was a logistical disaster."
Suddenly, three firm knocks echoed against the oak door.
"Princess Elara, this is Percy. I have the guard's report and your mint tea. May I come in?"
"E–Eh… y–yes, just a moment, please," Elara replied, forcing a calm tone that trembled like a violin string on the verge of snapping. She turned to me, eyes wide with panic, and shook me by the shoulders. "What do we do now?!"
"I don't know! Tell him to go away!" I hissed, trying to stay calm while Julian calculated forty-seven different ways Percy could decapitate me if that door opened.
"Princess?" Percy's voice returned, now tinged with suspicion. "Is someone else in there? I'm coming in!"
"N–NO!" Elara shrieked, slamming her hand against the doorknob with desperate authority. "I'm changing! Do not come in!"
A deathly silence fell over the hallway. I could vividly imagine Percy frozen in place, processing the mental image.
"I–I'M SO SORRY, PRINCESS! A THOUSAND APOLOGIES! IT WON'T HAPPEN AGAIN!" he shouted frantically. We heard the dull thud of the tea tray being set down, followed by the sound of boots fleeing down the corridor at full speed—surely red as a tomato.
Once his footsteps faded beyond my hearing range, I let out a breath that completely emptied my lungs.
"All clear," I said with a satisfied smile, standing up and stretching my stiff muscles.
I completely ignored Elara's furious, deeply embarrassed glare—she looked like she wanted to melt into the sheets.
I paused before jumping out the balcony, glancing sideways at the plush toy resting on a chair.
"By the way, Elara," I asked with genuine curiosity, "your dog wouldn't happen to be named 'Mr. Shaven,' would it?"
She grabbed a silk pillow and hurled it at my head with lethal accuracy.
"It's Mr. Trimmed!" she screamed, her face blazing red. "NOW GET OUT, IDIOT!"
I didn't wait for a second projectile. I leapt through the window and slid down the castle wall with the agility of a shadow, while Silas laughed uncontrollably in my head.
"Mr. Trimmed… oh, this is pure gold, Tetsu," Silas wheezed between laughs. "Affinity unlocked: Level 2. Category: Imaginary Pet Owners."
"Absolutely ridiculous," Julian added, though I detected a trace of relief in his tone. "03, return to your position. Training begins in ten minutes. Try not to faint in any other royal beds on your way to the courtyard."
"Yeah, yeah," I replied to the two voices in my head as I leapt from balcony to balcony, moving with the agility of a specter. "For now, I just want something to eat. I haven't had any calories since yesterday afternoon, and my core is starting to compensate for the energy deficit."
"You'd better not mention any of this to Lyaris," Silas warned, his tone playful but heavy with truth. "If she finds out you slept in her sister's bed, she really will freeze you. And not the warm kind of cold—trust me."
"03, regarding the crystal…" Julian began, his voice reclaiming its analytical authority. "We can afford to wait a little longer before attempting a full extraction. Forcing the hardware now would be inefficient. For the time being, your assignment is to protect the princess. She has proven to be an acceptable disciple of my way of thinking."
"Alright. I will," I said inwardly as I dropped through the stairwell opening, landing on the dining hall floor with feline softness.
Upon entering, the scene unfolded like a perfect painting of Eryndor's nobility. Lyaris, Oswin, and Percy were already there. Elara presided at the head of the table with impeccable posture. Oswin and Lyaris occupied the right side, while Percy sat opposite—his ears still faintly red.
As soon as I approached, Elara's voice sliced through the air with a calm so calculated it felt almost artificial.
"Ah, young Tetsuo," she greeted, not a single muscle betraying that she had thrown a pillow at me twenty minutes ago. "Please, if you wish, join us for breakfast."
She gestured to an empty seat directly beside Percy. The knight shot me a look hovering somewhere between fury and extreme confusion. I sat without a word, my gaze dropping to the plate before me: aged cheese, scrambled eggs, and freshly baked white wheat bread. I clenched my teeth to suppress my stomach's growl; my body demanded fuel after the crystal's energy drain.
Beside the plate stood a fine crystal glass filled with high-quality white wine, gleaming in the morning light. I stared at it. In my world, alcohol was prohibited under the age of twenty-one due to its interference with implant synchronization—but here… well, I was curious. I was sixteen, and technically in a world where the rules of the S.E.C. were beginning to feel like distant echoes.
"Is something wrong, Tetsuo?" Lyaris asked, tilting her head in curiosity. "Is the castle's food not to your liking?"
Percy snorted before I could answer.
"He's probably used to chewing roots in the forest," he muttered, cutting into his meat with unnecessary force. "Though I do wonder… what was our 'guest' doing so early near the east wing? I could've sworn I saw a shadow jumping across the balconies just moments ago."
Elara placed her cutlery on the table with a metallic clink that made Percy tense instantly.
"Stop making a scene, Percy," Oswin interjected in his deep voice, not even lifting his gaze from his plate. "I called him over to look at something, that's all. Your nonexistent dignity remains intact."
He shot me a knowing glance—a spark of cunning that confirmed the old warrior knew perfectly well I hadn't been with him. I thanked him silently as I brought a piece of bread to my mouth. It was flawless; soft texture, rich flavor—so intense that my taste buds, accustomed to S.E.C. nutrient paste, nearly short-circuited.
Then, I reached for the wine glass.
Silence spread across the table. Everyone's curiosity settled on me as if I were about to conduct a chemical experiment. I took a slow sip, letting the liquid roll across my tongue.
I tried with all my might to maintain my soldier-neutral expression, but my circuits failed me. The taste was like grape juice gone sour and aggressive, with a strange texture that scraped my throat.
Definitely not my thing.
Elara, who hadn't taken her eyes off me, read my grimace instantly. Her eyes turned into twin blocks of ice as she glanced toward the maids waiting in the shadows. She said nothing, but her gaze screamed with frozen authority: Replace that wine immediately with something decent.
Lyaris looked at her own glass, confused, wondering if white wine was truly that bad. Oswin simply rolled his eyes with an amused smile.
"Weakling," he muttered, though there was affection in his tone.
Percy, however, seized the opportunity and let out a dry laugh that shattered the tension.
"I knew it!" he exclaimed, pointing at me with his fork. "The princess's 'great guest' has the palate of a nursing infant. What's next, Tetsuo? Gonna ask for a warm glass of milk with honey before I drag you to the training yard?"
"03, your galvanic skin response indicates absolute rejection of ethanol," Julian commented with unbearable smugness. "A logical reaction. Your body is designed for efficiency, not for processing low-grade fermented toxins."
"Looks to me like you just need sugar, Tetsu," Silas laughed. "But hey, look on the bright side—Elara's about to have the vintner executed just because you didn't like the drink. That's influence."
I ignored them and set the glass aside, finishing my bread in silence.
"Milk has more calcium," I replied calmly, meeting Percy's gaze. "And considering I plan on breaking a few of your bones during training today, I suggest you drink some too."
"HEY! You little brat!" Percy slammed his chair back as he stood. "Before noon, I, Sir Perceval, formally challenge you to a duel in the garden!"
I remained composed, accepting the glass of lemonade a maid placed before me in place of the wine. The citrus freshness was far more agreeable to my system.
"Alright," I said after a sip. "But what do I get if I win?"
"I'll gather all the knights of the castle as witnesses," he declared proudly. "If you win, you earn my respect."
I tilted my head, genuinely confused.
"And how does that benefit me exactly?"
"ARGH! I hate you…" Percy groaned, rubbing his temples. "Fine. But if I win, Lady Lyaris returns to the castle permanently."
The tension in the room spiked so sharply it could've been cut with a wooden spoon. I searched Lyaris's face, remembering Elara's words from the night before: 'I just want things to go back to how they were with Lya.'
It was obvious. Elara didn't know how to ask her sister to stay without seeming weak, so she had likely maneuvered Percy into adding that clause. She expected me to lose—or rather, to yield for the family's sake. Having seen part of my past, Elara believed she understood my moral compass.
Wouldn't it have been easier to just say how you feel? I thought. Human relationships remained the hardest puzzle for my processors to solve.
Lyaris avoided my gaze, focusing instead on Mr. Whiskers, nervously toying with the green ribbon in her hair.
"I accept," I said, placing the lemonade glass on the table. "But I have my own condition. If I win, you will introduce me to the best magic instructor in this kingdom."
Elara raised an eyebrow, surprised by my ambition. Percy let out a mocking laugh.
"A chunk of iron like you wants to learn magic?" he scoffed. "Fine. I accept. Be ready, Tetsuo. I'll see you in the garden in an hour. Don't be late—if your wooden legs can even get you there."
"03, are you intending to integrate arcane processes into our logical architecture?" Julian asked, skeptical yet intrigued. "It is an unknown variable. It could destabilize the core… or lead to unprecedented optimization."
"I think he just wants to impress the girls, Julian," Silas chuckled. "But hey, a magic teacher sounds like a side quest with huge rewards. Let's teach that shiny knight a lesson!"
With that final jab, Percy departed alongside a neutral-faced Oswin—who, before leaving, gave me one last look. A look that said many things without words. The look of a master watching his student willingly step into a lion's pit.
Only the three of us remained at the table. The tension was a solid, invisible wall.
Lyaris stayed seated, clutching Mr. Whiskers, but kept glancing at me every few seconds, as if desperately searching for an excuse to flee the room with me. Elara, meanwhile, studied her sister with conflicted intensity, nervously twisting her hands beneath the tablecloth.
Just as I was about to say something to the princess to break the silence, Lyaris suddenly stood. She hugged the plush tightly and hurried to my side, seeking shelter in my shadow.
"Can we leave, Tetsuo?" she asked, avoiding my eyes with anxious urgency.
Elara closed her eyes for a brief moment. I detected a deep anguish radiating from her—a vibration of loneliness her icy walls could not conceal. When she opened them, she stared straight at me, her expression desolate, as if screaming: 'Do you see? By winning this duel to free her, you're pushing her away from me again.'
"03, the princess's logic is flawed," Julian intervened. "She believes Lyaris's freedom is a net loss to her own stability. It is an emotional miscalculation."
"It's not logic, Julian—it's fear," Silas whispered. "Let's get out of here, Tetsu. This room is actually freezing."
I nodded to Lyaris and we headed for the exit. I could feel Elara's gaze burning into my back—a reminder that despite my promise to protect her, my actions had just left her more alone than ever in her own palace.
"Tetsuo…" Lyaris stopped in the hallway, clutching Mr. Whiskers like it was her only anchor. "Percy isn't like the other guards. He's trained with terrifying devotion… and if he uses his special ability, I don't know what will happen."
I turned to her. Her face was pale, her eyes filled with overwhelming fear. I couldn't help noticing how much she had changed since I arrived—timidity giving way to desperate urgency.
"Why are you telling me this?" I asked. "If I lose, you'll be back with your sister. Isn't that what you want?"
Lyaris lowered her head, searching for words in the seams of the plush.
"Yes, I want to be with her… but—" She paused, then looked up. For a moment, I could swear I saw my own reflection in her eyes. "But not like this. I want to return as her sister, not as the 'princess's friend' or a reclaimed possession."
Silence flooded my mind. I could feel Julian's presence processing that information, refining his own social algorithms.
"If you win, I think you'll make her understand what I never could," she said softly, gazing toward the decorated garden ahead. "So… I'm leaving it in your hands. Please, win."
Win? What did that mean for me? Mechanical perfection? The boredom of effortless outcomes? No. I understood then—winning, for someone like me, meant surpassing oneself to become a force capable of creating order and harmony. It meant overcoming the solitude of pure logic and finding meaning in others.
It meant choosing what Tetsuo wanted—rather than what Subject 03 was built to do.
And I wanted…
"To help you," I said before stepping toward the garden. "I'll help you because… it brings me joy. After all, you helped me first."
Lyaris froze, processing my words, as I walked toward the center of the improvised arena.
"It's decided. I will win," I declared—though the words felt strange in my own ears.
"03, your core—" Julian cut in, his voice vibrating with analytical clarity that sent a chill through me. "It has a breach. The crystal caused it. Even without contact today, prior exposure has degraded your safety protocols."
What does that mean? I asked internally, a tingling spreading at the base of my skull.
"It means I have partial access to your sensors and motor functions," he explained, his voice fading as if down a tunnel. "I cannot allow an unkempt knight like that to interfere with our survival objective. Taking control."
Suddenly, sensation vanished from my muscles. My body felt weightless, as though slipping into another plane of existence. The garden, Percy, and the sky of Eryndor collapsed into a flat image.
I wasn't dead.
I was somewhere that should not exist—a modern lounge of clean lines and white light. A massive television stood before me, displaying exactly what my eyes were seeing in the real world. Candy wrappers—lemon-flavored—and cleaning tools littered the floor.
I was sitting on a leather sofa beside a relaxed-looking man wearing dark glasses, calmly chewing on a candy as he watched the "screen."
"Silas…? Is that you?" I asked, disoriented.
"Huh? Oh—welcome, Tetsu," he replied, tilting his head with a puzzled grin. "Didn't expect you'd end up down here with me. Julian's gotten… intense."
My blood ran cold.
If Silas was sitting here with me, it meant he had no idea what Julian was about to do out there. And if the strategist was acting without anyone to restrain his cold logic, Percy wasn't facing a warrior.
He was facing a mathematical execution.
"This is bad…" I whispered, watching on the screen as my own body began moving toward Percy with inhuman precision.