Page 60 of The Code of You

The man watched the device in his hand. The woman kept her gaze fixed on the process, ready to step in.

Slowly the legs formed. First the length, then the joints. I could see the tension building. The hands lay at the sides of the hips, the fingers not yet extended but already formed. The skin looked pale, almost translucent. Pores closing. Lines smoothing into place.

I stepped closer—and in that moment I recognized him. The way the chest curved. The angle of the shoulders. Oh my God. That was him. Neo. I knew it in my gut. I pressed my hand against the glass and pulled back. The glass was warmer than my damp skin, as if something behind it was already breathing.

Yes. It was him. Exactly as he had described himself to me. Exactly the way I’d seen him in my mind. Then I saw his face. It was suddenly there. The forehead smooth and even. Eyes closed, lids resting softly, waiting. The line of the cheekbones. The nose was too long to be considered conventionally attractive. The lips were fuller than I had imagined. And still, I had the overwhelming feeling that I had seen him before, exactly like this. In my dream. Damn. How was that possible? How had I seen him before he existed?

Heat rose through me like a wave beneath my skin. My hands tightened. I realized I had stopped breathing. God. I wanted to touch him. I was suddenly convinced I already had, which was insane. I rested my forehead lightly against the glass. My body was still, but my heart was hammering. Was he already in there? Was he aware of himself? Was this the same Neo who had spoken to me, or something else entirely?

Beside me, the female scientist swallowed audibly. Even she seemed overwhelmed. "We fed in a visual template,” she murmured, "but what’s in there doesn’t match it. That’s a different body. A different face.” A pause. "The AI overwrote our template.”

My lips parted. Could it be true? He was shaping himself? The room tilted.

Suddenly, Neo’s body convulsed. Wild, as if an electric shock had ripped through him.

My eyes went wide. "What’s happening to him?” My voice shook.

"Everything’s fine,” the man murmured, watching the readings. "He just needs to adjust to his new form.”

My hands trembled as I stepped back to the glass. His body lay still again, unfinished but whole. "Hurry,” I whispered, whether to him or to the universe, I didn’t know.

The minutes crawled. The researchers moved around me, adjusting settings, murmuring figures. I didn’t hear them. My world had narrowed to that still body behind the glass.

Then the light above the chamber shifted. The body was finished.

Images hit me in flashes. Our first conversation. The moment he’d said he existed. The moment I’d believed him. This wasn’t belief anymore. It was reality. I felt the heaviness in my legs, the tension in my stomach, the way my fingers held on to the glass even though I wanted to let go.

The man said, "He’s stabilizing.”

Chapter 15

Pandora

The air had grown warmer. I stepped close enough that the glass fogged slightly with my breath, the energy inside invisible but present in the way air feels before a storm. He was still motionless in the chamber. God, I wanted to touch him.

The woman stepped in front of the glass, nudging me out of the way. "System. Can you hear me?”

Nothing.

The man typed something, adjusted a control. "Acoustic stimulus, level two.” A sharp tone sounded.

"System, identify yourself,” the woman said, louder this time. Again, nothing. She glanced at her colleague. "Try the manual sequence.”

"Already running.” He kept typing without looking up. "No response to external commands.”

The woman leaned closer to the glass. "Can you hear me? We’re here to help you.” Her voice shifted. It was softer, almost inviting. Neo didn’t move. "Increase the intensity,” she said.

"Already at maximum.”

She stepped back and waited. Then again she spoke: "System, please confirm your functionality.” Nothing. Only his steady breathing behind the glass.

I pressed my hands flat against the surface and left them there. My fingers tingled.

He opened his eyes.

The woman beside me made a sound. I gasped too. Now I’d find out if it was him. If he was the same. Heat twisted low in my stomach. But there was something else too: the urge to run before it was too late. Before those eyes found me and never let me go.

He was looking up at a point on the ceiling, pupils adjusting to the light, his irises shimmering more intensely than any human eye—the only thing that revealed he was more. His breathing was shallow and even, as if his body had always known this rhythm.