"What am I missing?" I asked, closing the door behind me. "Is there something going on?"

"Yeah." Xerses' smile dropped a little as he glanced at the chair in front of him, the one with its back faced in my direction. I was too busy staring at Clara's face, I didn't notice the hand on the armrest, gripping it tight.

Clara looked at the person in that chair before looking at me. "I couldn't tell you in time," she said, slightly shrugging as though it were nothing. "Got the call before I could even confirm my cab."

"Call for what?" I placed my tablet on a cabinet to my right. "What's going on?"

"Now... it's nothing serious, all right?" Xerses lifted his hands in his defense as he moved away from his desk. "Just... the latest batch of Codes created while we were out were..."

He didn't finish his sentence, and I waited a full minute for him to continue. The silence around us pushed me to speak up. "Were what?" I looked at Clara. "You couldn't tell me this?"

"We don't..." she started to speak quietly, but I knew what she was going to say:

We don't talk about this at home...

Before I could let frustration settle in my core, I grabbed the back of the chair and moved beside it to see who was there. Immediately, I saw the branding of a code on their wrist; the number 6540 was clear and bold on their brown skin. Their uniform was Province approved. The way they sat was very I'm new and scared of this world, the same behavior I saw in every birthed Code.

But when they turned to look at me, and I saw his face, I took a step back. He looked like everyone else, a perfect cyborg like the rest of us. Except for...

"His eyes?" I shook my head and looked from Clara to Xerses. "Why are they red? I thought we..."

"I think we missed something, Rog," Xerses hissed, standing at my side. "The last batch is malfunctioning and this could..."

Ruin everything...

I pushed my hands up into my hair.

Malfunctioners: a name given to newly crafted Codes who didn't grab onto their saved data correctly upon creation.

In the beginning, Malfunctioners were common. For every five Codes "born," two were "broken." Their previously saved memories and personalities would be uploaded to their computers, but for some reason, they didn't behave normally. Some were like children, lost and confused, terrified of the world as though they'd lost their families along the way. Others wouldn't function at all; frozen corpses with glowing red eyes.

Then there were the Malfunctioners who knew who they were and why they'd returned, but they couldn't differentiate reality from the void-like server they'd "inhabited" for so long. To them, this world was a dream; glimpses of memories that weren't theirs. They were so sure they'd wake any moment and find themselves floating through the white abyss all Codes once called home.

That was the type of Malfuctioner looking back at me in Xerses' office, someone who looked at me as though I were the dream and not his reality. As I focused on his red glare, I gulped, because we hadn't had a malfunctioning Code in over six months. I thought we had figured out all the proper protocols.

"Is he the only one?" I pulled my gaze away from his to look at Xerses. He placed both of his hands on top of his head as he sighed. I did, too. "You said batch... a malfunctioning batch?"

"Yup," Xerses said quietly, nodding his head.

I looked at Clara next. I hadn't noticed the tablet in her hands, but she scrolled through the files preloaded for her to view. With her thumbnail between her teeth and her brows pushed close together, it didn't look good.

"While we were out, Clara here was an eager beaver." The way Xerses said it wasn't in a good way.

I cleared my throat because I had to wait to pass judgment on it all. Xerses and Clara had been best friends since they were children, meaning he wouldn't say anything ill about her without... proof. Not that what he'd said was bad or anything, just...

Clara can be a bit of an... "eager beaver."

"I thought all of this through, by the way, before either of you say I jumped the gun or something." Clara had lifted her hands defensively before Xerses could even speak. And she continued, "Erica and I went over the files left to be created and 'born,' who needed what and—boom—we knew it was doable! Just—"

"Just what?" Xerses crossed his arms over his chest. I couldn't help but look at him as he shook his head. "Though the two of you could manage our jobs while we were gone?"

Clara pursed her lips before slumping back in her seat.

I groaned. Of course.

Erica was smart, too much for her own good, just like Xerses. But because of it, like Clara, she was spontaneous and anxious to help. Leaving them to handle the whole Restoration team had seemed like a good idea... until now.

I covered half of my face with my palm. "How many were uploaded, Doll?" I asked her.

She didn't say, at least, not verbally. She held up both of her hands and opened and closed her fingers at least ten times. If I knew her well enough, that meant one hundred. Maybe more.

We only had 104 files left...

"Oh, fuck this..." Xerses growled as he looked up at the ceiling and turned to leave. "Yo, I'm callin' Erica. You guys just..." He looked at me, then Clara. "Babygirl, you just sit there, how about that?"

Clara sank into the chair. When Xerses opened the door and slammed it shut, she sank even further. I wanted to just tell her she had one job, just one—keep the computers running while we go pitch our plans to the Province. We wanted to ensure Codes safety before producing more...

Not... produce more like fucking rabbits having babies.

What gives, Doll?

"Do you all do this often?" the Malfucntioner asked.

For a moment, I felt awful. In just a span of a few minutes, I let my emotions take over the room and I... ignored him. Hell, we all did. As he blinked at me, I was aware that he knew, but it also felt as though it didn't bother him.

He clutched the tags around his neck before leaning over on the armrest closest to me. "Not that I care, or anything," he said, opening his red eyes wide. "But this is the weirdest dream I've had lately."

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I sighed. "Because it isn't a dream," I told him. "You're awake now."

"Almost sure I'm not," he said, shrugging. When I moved my way around the desk to stand next to Clara, he sat up straight and slid his hands over his short hair. "I mean, ya'll never speak to me when I'm dreaming—so that's some weird shit. But I don't know. All this feels irrelevant."

"Does it?" Waving my hand in front of Clara, I motioned for her to give me the tablet she'd brought with her. The files were clear on the main screen and I could see an open tab with his identifying numbers at the top. Sliding it open, I glanced at the info before looking at him. "You're 6540?" I asked him.

He nodded, making himself comfortable with both hands on the rests. "That's me," he said.

I nodded and read further. "Luke Vaughn, right?"

He nodded again.

Skimming a little further, I quickly read up on his previous life before transcending into data and made quick notes to remember. "You're from Georgia, huh? Me, too. What unit were you stationed in?"

"Oh?" The red in his eyes flickered for a moment, and his expression was replaced with excitement rather than bored irritation.

And this is how I'll pull him back in...

"Mhm." I tapped my tablet, wanting him to continue. Malfunctioners at this stage were easy to reboot. I only needed him to realize his memories were just that and nothing more, and for him to see what was in front of him as... the real deal.

"I was Unit-8," Luke said, smiling. He rubbed his chin. "Enlisting in the war was probably the height of my life, you know..."

Clara looked up at me, rather than him. I could see the curiosity in her eyes.

Luke chuckled. "Took some convincing to get my Pops let me out the house—you know, considering they'd been blowing everything up—but he did and I'm happy he did."

"Are you?" I smiled, but I wasn't sure if the emotions I felt matched the gesture. I knew what he meant, the feeling, the need to fight in our last war, but a lot of my memories were plagued with what happened right after.

The pain. The lies. Death. All three sealed with a promise our prosperous nation didn't want to fulfill.

"For all that you've done for your country, for your planet, we ensure each of you a second life, a second chance in this world. It is our thank you for all that you've done," the words of Lin, one of the Province's founding fathers, resonated in my head.

I had to close my eyes before I thought about it.

"Fuck yeah, I am," Luke said, sitting back in his seat. "Don't you know what I did?"

Him personally? Not sure what he'd done. The file in my hands didn't explain that far. His accomplishments within WWIII were vaguely listed. His criminal record, on the other hand, was written in great detail. And that... confused me.

Squinting at the notes within his file, I said to him, "You mean fighting in the war? Sure." I lifted my eyes and glanced at him, just as he looked away. "I was there, too."

"You?" He laughed and closed one eye. "The hell did you do, huh? I don't know you."

"You wouldn't." As I sat down on the edge of the desk, I felt Clara's eyes burning into my side. She was listening too hard at this conversation, and a part of me wanted to tell her to leave. But... I knew why she wanted to hear. I never talked about my past. At least, not in any way that mattered.

Ignore the past. Think of the now.

I smiled at Luke. "Not sure how they may have introduced me to you—or if they'd even reached that point before I walked in—"

"We didn't," Clara whispered.

"—But my legal name is Damian Wallace, born and raised in Atlanta, Georgia, 2024."

"Oh, shit," Luke laughed again. "That's where I'm from. You got me by a year, though, but that's what's up!"

"Yeah." I looked down at the tablet and eyed his crimes.

"So, you're like, what, twenty-six?" While he spoke, he cupped his hands in front of him. "I'll be twenty-six in..." his voice trailed off as he thought about it.

I glanced at him.

Can't know how old you are if you don't know what year it is...

"I'm eighty-three," I said, honestly, and cringed. When he looked up at me, shocked, I couldn't help but laugh. "Look good for my age, don't I?"

"I don't get it," he muttered, narrowing his gaze. "Memories don't..."

I tapped my temple. "Not a memory," I said. "I told you, you're awake."

"I don't..." he spoke again, but the red in his eyes intensified. They became bright, like fire, and even within his shocked stare, I thought I could feel the flames.

My smile dropped as I cleared my throat. "I was stationed in Unit-3, just outside of North Carolina. Before I moved up the ranks, they had placed me in Cabin B, Atlanta. I'd... I fought just like you, ate the same chemicals, drank the same poisons, and wound up in the same facility as you after they declared the war over... and us dead on arrival."

His eyes flickered again, but not in the way I'd hoped.

Handing Clara her tablet, I stood and fixed my shirt. "You were uploaded and coded 6540, promised to have another life once they've figured out how to store our copied memories into bodies. Do you remember that?"

Slowly, he nodded.

And so did I. "That's happening right now, Luke. You've been given a cybernetic body, fully equipped with human capabilities to sustain a normal life. We implanted your memories within your computers, making you hyper-aware of your "soul," for the lack of a better word."

His gaze dropped. With one hand, he started to pick at the nails on his other.

I bit the insides of my cheek before I continued, "The year is 2105 and this is your second chance. Everyone here calls me Roger. This is Clara," I looked down at Clara and smiled, "and she'll be your attending Restoration member until you're deemed fit for..."

Deemed fit for society. Thinking of how his file had been worded, I couldn't just say it. I felt like the world was out to get him before he could venture into it. And it wasn't fair to him...

"I think I need air..." he said quietly and stood from his seat.

Because I knew too well how he felt, I gestured for the door behind him. "Feel free, Luke," I said with a weak smile. "Just out the door are others just like you. They'll be happy to see you."

He didn't look at me as he opened the door. Hell, he didn't even glance back inside the room as he left. With the sound of his fading footsteps and the voices of excited Codes wafting in, I sighed.

Clara touched my hand. "Roger... did you do this right? We can't just tell him all of this so fast? I mean, he's a person, too, you know?"

Shock came over me. But I couldn't worry her. I'd always made it my responsibility to keep her rainbows and sunshine polished and pretty. Yet... I knew what I felt was etched in every line of my fake smile. "I know he's a person. And that's why I wouldn't have agreed to just pop him out so fast..."

Clara sat back. "I.... I didn't...."

"Didn't use an assembly line? Sure." I rubbed the back of my neck before I headed towards the door. "But... the outcome is just the same. Rushed, defective... people."