The atmosphere changed instantly. The air in the room seemed to sharpen, thick with a sudden, electric tension. Jessie's head snapped toward the door, his instincts screaming before his mind could catch up.
"Leo...?" he breathed.
The President didn't hesitate. He was a man used to moving toward the fire, not away from it. "Move," he commanded.
The room exploded into a controlled chaos of motion. Secret Service agents repositioned with practiced efficiency, doctors were ushered into the hallway, and Hal scrambled to grab his tablet, eager to follow the sudden tide of authority. Amie stayed rooted for a second, her hands trembling as she looked between her son and the door.
"...Stay here," she whispered, a plea for safety.
Jessie looked at her, his heart hammering against his ribs. He looked at the hallway, then back to his mother. He felt the hum of the machine beneath his skin—a pull he couldn't ignore.
"...I can't," he said.
Deep within his chest, a faint blue light flickered. Secondary subject: Leo Willson, Prime's voice resonated in his mind. Status change detected.
Jessie swung his legs off the bed. His feet hit the cold floor with a heavy thud. "I have to go."
This time, despite the presence of guards and the stern faces of generals, no one tried to stop him. The boy with the blue core was no longer just a patient; he was a participant.
The group moved like a storm through the hospital wing. Boots thundered against the polished tile, a rhythmic, violent sound that echoed off the sterile walls.
Jessie walked in the center of the phalanx. He was slow at first, his movements jerky and uncoordinated. It felt as if he were learning how to operate his own limbs all over again, recalibrating his weight and center of gravity with every arduous step.
"...Prime," he muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible over the din of the marching agents.
Yes.
Jessie swallowed hard, his throat dry. "Is Leo like me?"
A long, agonizing pause followed. The AI seemed to search for a definition that didn't yet exist. Unknown.
Jessie clenched his jaw, his pace quickening as his strength returned in surges. "...He better be okay."
They reached Room 21. The door stood open, a nurse stepping aside to let the official party through. She looked shaken, her eyes wide as she gestured inward. "He's in there," she said softly.
No one rushed in. Not this time. There was a sense of profound hesitation, a collective breath held in the face of the unknown. The President looked at Jessie and gave a single, solemn nod.
"...Go."
Jessie stared into the room. He took a deep breath to steady his racing heart and stepped forward into the silence.
It wasn't the explosive, technological chaos that had defined Jessie's own awakening. There were no flickering lights or screaming alarms. It was... waiting.
Leo Willson sat upright in the hospital bed. He looked alive. He looked awake. But he was utterly still—a statue carved from flesh. His grandparents stood frozen beside him, their faces masks of terror, afraid that a single word might shatter the fragile peace of the moment.
"...Leo?" his grandmother asked, her voice cracking.
There was no response.
Jessie stepped further into the room, the blue light in his chest pulsing in a slow, steady rhythm. "...Leo?"
Leo didn't move. He didn't blink. He was staring straight ahead, his focus fixed on a point in empty air as if he were watching a movie no one else could see.
Ava and Hal filtered in behind Jessie, the President following. But the gravity of their presence faded the moment Leo finally blinked.
His right eye activated.
A sharp, luminous green ignited across the iris. It wasn't a natural glow; it was structured and complex. Layered, circular patterns rotated subtly within the eye, like rings of data aligning and focusing. Faint lines of light flickered across the surface of his vision—a heads-up display tracking, measuring, and learning the world in real-time.
Hal froze, his eyes fixed on the display. "...That's not biological."
"No," Ava whispered, her voice filled with a terrifying sort of awe. "It's not."
Jessie took another step, his shadow falling across Leo's lap. "...Yo."
Leo's head turned. The movement was hauntingly smooth and perfectly controlled. His right eye locked onto Jessie instantly. Recognition flashed through the green circuitry.
"...Jessie," Leo said. His voice was calm. Too calm. It lacked the jagged edges of a boy who had just woken up from a coma.
Jessie blinked, unsettled by the lack of heat in his friend's voice. "...Yeah."
A beat passed. Leo's eye flickered again, the data rings tightening with a soft, mechanical whir that only those closest to him could hear. "Heart rate elevated," Leo stated flatly.
Jessie frowned. "...What?"
Leo tilted his head slightly, his gaze unblinking. "Yours," he clarified.
Jessie glanced down at his own chest, where the blue light hummed. "...Okay, that's—new."
The General stepped forward, his hand hovering instinctively near his sidearm. "What is he doing?"
Hal didn't look away from the green glow. "He's analyzing."
Leo's gaze drifted with clinical precision. From Jessie... to Ava... to the President. Each movement was intentional, devoid of wasted effort.
"Multiple unknown identities," Leo said, his voice rising in volume. "Elevated threat probability."
The security detail reacted instantly, shifting their weight, hands moving to holsters in a chorus of clicking leather.
"Stand down!" the President ordered sharply, his voice cutting through the rising panic.
Jessie raised his hands, stepping between the guns and the bed. "Hey—hey—relax. It's just Leo."
Leo's eye flickered, a pulse of emerald light. "Correction," he said.
"...What?"
Leo looked directly at him, the green light pulsing in time with some internal clock. "Something is different."
A heavy silence fell over the room. Jessie exhaled, the blue light in his own chest dimming as he forced himself to relax. "...Yeah. You could say that."
Leo's right eye pulsed one last time. The interface within it rotated rapidly, a blur of neon green, then slowed to a steady hum. "Vision recalibrated," Leo murmured.
He blinked. This time, his left eye opened fully. It was normal. Brown. Human. It grounded him, providing a stark, jarring contrast to the unnatural precision of the right.
Ava stepped forward carefully, as if approaching a wounded animal. "Leo... do you feel any pain?"
Leo actually seemed to consider the question, searching his internal sensations with a focus that was unnerving. "...No. But my perception is altered."
"How?" Hal asked, leaning in.
Leo looked around the room, his two different eyes taking in the world in two different ways. "I can process... more. Movement. Heat. Pattern recognition. It's... faster."
Jessie let out a quiet breath, a ghost of a smile touching his lips. "...Man really got an upgrade before me," he muttered.
Prime responded instantly inside his mind. Incorrect.
Jessie rolled his eyes. Not now.
The President stepped forward, his presence filling the small space. "Leo, can you control it?"
Leo didn't answer immediately. His green eye flickered as he scanned the room one more time, perhaps calculating the honesty of the man standing before him. Then: "...Yes."
But there was a pause. A tiny, infinitesimal hesitation. Not everyone noticed it, but Jessie did. He knew what it felt like to have your body hijacked by the impossible. He stepped closer.
"...You sure?"
Leo looked at him. For the first time, the machine-like mask slipped. In the depths of his human eye, there it was: uncertainty. Real, raw, human fear.
"...I think so," Leo admitted.
The room held that answer. They didn't trust it, but they didn't reject it. They simply existed within the silence of it.
Then, Prime spoke—not to the room, but in the cold privacy of Jessie's mind.
Subject: Leo Willson. Status: altered. No system detected.
Jessie frowned, his heart sinking. "...So he's not like me."
Correct.
Jessie looked at Leo—at the green eye of a machine and the brown eye of his best friend. Then he said it out loud, for the generals, the scientists, and the President to hear.
"...We're not the same."
Leo's eye pulsed once, a soft, controlled green.
"...No," he agreed.
And somehow, that realization was more unsettling than anything that had come before. They were both monsters now, but they weren't even the same species.