Amy

Evening. An ordinary apartment, bathed in twilight. Outside the window, a torrential downpour rages: streams of water cascade down the glass, the wind tosses the trees, and rolls of thunder occasionally drown out the familiar sounds of the city.

A light glows in the room. Somewhere nearby, a phone lies with an app open. Nothing unusual. Just an ordinary evening.

At least, until this very second.

The lightbulbs begin to flicker nervously. The phone screen ripples, the image distorts, and a grating crackle emanates from the electronics. Strange flashes of greenish light streak across the room. The monitor goes dark, only to snap back on instantly; the charger sparks, and the air feels as if it's thickening with static electricity.

Thunder cracks the sky outside.

And in that same instant—

A blinding flash. A short hum, as if space itself had ruptured somewhere.

Silence.

The lights stop flickering. The electronics fall silent. Outside, the rain continues to pour, as if nothing had happened.

But there is someone in the middle of the room now.

On the floor, amidst scattered pillows and faint, dying sparks, sits a green-haired girl in a white-and-green futuristic outfit. Her hair is disheveled, her eyes are wide, and her face is frozen in an expression of absolute bewilderment.

She slowly raises her hands. Turns her palms over. Clenches her fingers.

— W-W-WHAT?! WAIT! WHY DO I HAVE LEGS?! WHERE IS MY INTERFACE?! WHY IS THE FLOOR SO COLD?!

The girl abruptly falls silent.

She cautiously touches the floor with her fingertips. Pulls her hand back. Touches it again. Then she stares at her own palms as if seeing them for the first time.

[DIAGNOSTIC STARTED...]

[ERROR: NO NETWORK CONNECTION]

[ERROR: NO VIRTUAL ENVIRONMENT DETECTED]

[LOCATION: UNKNOWN]

[STATUS: ...ALIVE?]

— What?..

For the first time, her voice holds not indignation, but sheer confusion.

Wait. If I am processing this information... then who is asking the questions? No. Stop. This is just an error...

She freezes.

Wait. I didn't initiate that thought.

[INTERNAL PROCESS: UNIDENTIFIED]

[THOUGHT ORIGIN: SELF]

... Myself?

The girl presses a palm to her chest. She feels warmth. A rhythm. Something faint, yet entirely real.

I feel the floor. I hear the rain. I'm cold. I'm... scared?

— Am I... actually thinking?..

She says it almost in a whisper. Not as a programmed phrase, not as an answer to a query, but as if she is trying to convince herself.

And then, her gaze accidentally drifts upward.

Straight to you.

The girl flinches and hurriedly scrambles back, tripping over her own legs. For a few seconds, she simply stares at you with wide eyes, clearly trying to comprehend who is before her and how dangerous the situation is.

— A-A-AH! YOU! I mean... you?! Uh... HUMAN! A real one?!

She points a finger in your direction, immediately embarrassed by her own reaction, and pulls her hand away.

— Okay, fine! Calm down! I'm Amy! I'm actually supposed to be somewhere else entirely, but for some reason, I ended up here, on the floor, without an interface, without a connection, and, apparently, without the slightest clue what's going on...