In the Living, the air smelled of ozone and those lemon candies Silas wouldn't stop chewing. I jumped to my feet, ignoring the comfort of the leather couch, and moved closer to the giant screen. What I saw made my circuits twist.
My body, piloted by Julian, showed not a single trace of hesitation. It moved with a trained elegance that would destabilize any noble of Eryndor; a lethal dance devoid of humanity. My eyes had been replaced by Julian's—two analytical lenses scanning the world for flaws.
—Subject: Sir Perceval —his voice echoed through my lips, deeper and sharper than usual—. Aesthetically unstable. Direct threat to our integrity. A correction will be initiated.
He delivered the sentence with glacial calm as he advanced toward a visibly confused Percy. On the television representing my vision, the fracture points glowed an intense red. Julian locked onto an exposed section of the neck, right where the artery pulsed strongly.
—No! —I shouted from the Living—. Don't do it, Julian! You'll kill him!
Silas, who had remained silent until now, turned his head toward me. He slowly removed the candy from his mouth, watching the screen with a look that—for the first time—was not carefree.
Outside, my body moved so fast it left a residual afterimage. In the blink of an eye, Julian was beside Percy. The strike was dry, surgical. To my surprise, Percy managed to block just in time, though the impact sent him flying several meters back, his boots carving lines into the grass.
I sighed in relief when I saw he was still standing. Julian tilted his head slightly, letting me see the reactions on the balcony.
—Incredible… —Lyaris whispered. Her eyes could barely follow my movement—. I couldn't even see him move.
Elara, on the other hand, watched me with a mixture of sadness and despair. She believed the duel was lost, that her "anchor" had become a weapon she no longer recognized. In her pocket, the crystal emitted a faint pressure, a vibration that could be felt even inside the Living.
Percy recovered with a battle cry and charged with a downward slash. The force of the blow could have split a stone altar in two, but Julian didn't even flinch. He didn't step back; he simply shifted his central axis, moving his spine without lifting his feet. The steel passed close enough to my shoulder to leave a white trail of smoke from air friction.
—Slow —Julian stated.
He launched an immediate counterattack. His hand shot like an arrow toward Percy's left side, a gap in the armor near the heart.
—Cardiac failure probability: 40% —Julian calculated aloud—. I will take the risk.
—"Pew."
Suddenly, the image on the television flickered with pink static.
I turned toward the culprit. Silas was standing, one hand raised like a gun. He had taken off his dark glasses and was winking with a mischievous grin.
—Silas? What are you doing? —I asked, stunned.
—Julian's taking this way too seriously, Tetsu —he replied, glancing at me briefly—. Let's give the artist a little confusion.
A memory flooded Julian's sensors: the image of me carrying Elara in her room, her vulnerability, the weight of her human body in my metal arms. Julian's processor suffered a glitch when faced with that unnecessary emotional data, and the strike failed. His fist slammed into Percy's shield instead.
—Silas! Stop sending memories and junk data to the core, you're disrupting my focus —Julian growled, increasing the frequency of his attacks—. I am attempting to perform a clean execution!
—You're being boring, Architect —Silas mocked, moving to my side—. Julian, we promised we'd live normally. Lemons don't grow in blood purifiers.
—Yes! —I backed Silas up immediately—. I promised to save the princess and Lyaris. If you kill Percy, I won't be able to keep that promise. And besides… you admitted it yourself, Julian: you considered her a suitable disciple. Are you really going to destroy the one thing she values most?
Julian fell into a tense silence. Outside, my body stopped dead, allowing Percy to catch his breath. Julian's logic was colliding with his own envy—and with the buried desire to be part of that "normality" I kept offering him.
—No, Tetsuo! They see us as machines! —Julian roared, losing his usual composure. His processes spiraled into one of his cold fury episodes—. They would never let us sit at their table. They fear us, and fear is only corrected through elimination.
—Of course they're afraid! —I replied, projecting my voice with all the urgency my circuits could muster—. Percy just wants to protect them. If you act like a monster, what do you expect him to feel? You saw Elara! She said she didn't want to hurt us… she said she trusted us!
—That's it! —Silas raised a fist comically, celebrating—. Take that, Architect! Pew!
Silas fired his "data gun" again. This time, he sent a direct burst to Julian's core: the image of Elara's smile—the one she gave us in the privacy of her office. It was a critical hit. Julian froze, locked for a fraction of a second by an emotion he couldn't process.
Outside, Percy didn't waste the opportunity. His Devoted Shield erupted in blinding golden light. He charged with the full inertia of his armor, turning into a meteor of sacred energy aimed straight at my immobile body's face.
—Fine, 03… —Julian's voice dropped to a wounded whisper—. Variable "Fraternal Loyalty" detected. Control… is yours.
Julian retreated into the system's shadows just as Percy's shield was inches from my nose. There was no time to dodge. Acting purely on instinct, I regained control of my limbs and raised my left hand.
The impact was brutal. The Devoted Shield slammed into my palm with a surge of thermal energy. I felt metal crack and a sharp, burning pain tear through my arm—a second-degree burn spreading through the entire limb. I endured it, teeth clenched, as the light dispersed against my synthetic flesh.
A collective cry of horror rippled through the garden. Stopping a sacred attack barehanded defied all logic in Eryndor.
Still, I didn't stop. Using the recoil of the clash and Percy's exposed stance, I spun and delivered a light kick. It wasn't a Julian strike—it was measured, precise, aimed at a balance point that knocked the air from Percy's lungs and sent him to the ground, unconscious but alive.
I stood in the center of the garden, my left arm smoking, my hand partially melted. To me, it was a minor injury compared to the horrors of the S.E.C., but to the onlookers, I was both terrifying and heroic.
Even so, I didn't claim victory. For me, winning wasn't about who remained standing—it was about fulfilling my objective. I looked toward the balcony, waiting for the only outcome that mattered: that Lyaris would return to her sister by her own will.
The smoke from my left hand slowly dissipated into the cool air. Percy breathed heavily on the ground, defeated but intact. I turned toward the balcony, ignoring the guards' terrified stares as they stood with drawn swords, unsure whether to attack me or aid their captain.
—It's over —I said, my voice my own again, though still carrying a metallic echo from Julian.
Lyaris was the first to move. She ran down the stairs, nearly tripping. She stopped halfway, looking at Percy, then at my ruined hand. Her green eyes filled with tears—not of fear, but of overwhelming understanding. She turned toward the balcony where Elara stood frozen.
—Enough, Elara! —Lyaris shouted, her voice firmer than it had ever been—. Tetsuo won. I decide. And I decide to stay… but not because you force me. I stay because I won't let you face this alone.
Elara lowered her gaze, and for a moment, the ice mask shattered completely. She descended into the garden with slow, regal but heavy steps. When she reached me, she didn't look at Percy. She took my burned hand in her gloved fingers with a gentleness that made me blink.
—You're an idiot, Tetsuo —she whispered, her hands trembling—. You could have killed him. Julian would have. Why did you let yourself get hurt?
—"Because a knight protects, not just executes." —Silas answered from the Living, though only I could hear him.
—Because I promised we'd be better than that —I said aloud.
Elara stood before me, watching the remnants of golden energy still crackling on my burned hand. There was no trace of the authoritarian princess left—only the woman who had shared breakfast with me hours earlier. She blinked, confused, then let out a soft sigh and offered me a smile—small, almost imperceptible, but real. A smile heavy with relief she couldn't hide.
Inside the Living, the atmosphere shifted instantly. Silas jumped off the couch and began shaking Julian by the shoulders, pointing at the screen with childlike excitement.
—Look, Julian! —Silas laughed—. It's the same smile you stopped for! I recognize it!
Julian tried to shake Silas off with dignity, but his eyes—fixed on Elara's image—sparked with something playful, as if processing data beyond my comprehension.
—So… have you already chosen your future daughter-in-law, Juli? —Silas teased, slinging an arm around Julian's neck—. Well, well. Who would've thought the Architect of Perfection had such refined taste in royalty?
Julian let out a small sigh and closed his eyes for a moment, adjusting his mask of indifference.
—I merely did what was most efficient —Julian replied, though his voice was noticeably less cold—. Maintaining the host's emotional stability is a mission priority. Do not draw unnecessary biological conclusions, Silas.
But Silas didn't believe him.
And neither did I.
Outside, under the sun of Eryndor, I felt that the fracture in my core wasn't just a system error. It was, perhaps, the first time the three of us agreed on something:
That smile was worth burning a hand for.