The command van rolled silently as we pulled away from the old plant. The adrenaline had finally left me, leaving behind that strange hollowness that always followed a mission.

  Darius kept his eyes on the computer, probably already severing contracts. “Where to next? Or is this where the civilians get off?”

  “As I said, I need to stop by somewhere first,” I said. “Roberto’s sister runs a café in his building. We can regroup there.”

  By the time we reached Roberto’s building, the sun was dipping below the skyline, turning the tall windows of the café into glowing panels of warm gold.

  The van pulled to a gentle stop at the curb.

  Through the glass, I could already see the cozy interior, the exposed brick walls glowing in the sunset light, shelves cluttered with mismatched mugs, and handwritten menu boards promising Italian things I couldn’t read.

  Isabel was behind the counter, laughing with someone I couldn’t see. She wore an apron, this one said Espresso Yourself, and when she glanced up and spotted me through the window, her face brightened with a smile that made the day feel a little less heavy.

  “Come on,” I said to Lola, pushing the van door open. “Let’s take a break for a while. Before the next disaster.”¨I glanced back at Darius. “And... just put them in a car following me, okay?”

  “Roger.” He nodded, which in Darius-speak was basically a heartfelt oath. He was determined to have his people shadow me like an overprotective older brother. Or a particularly stubborn bodyguard. Same thing.

  The evening air wrapped around us as we stepped out. The heat of the day had finally given way to the cool promise of nightfall. Inside the café, the tall windows blushed with the last orange streaks of sunset.

  The cozy space was half-full, gentle conversation buzzing in the background. The familiar smell hit me the second I crossed the threshold, roasted coffee beans, warm pastry, and that faint hint of vanilla Isabel always insisted on adding somewhere in the blend.

  “Isabel!” I grinned, spotting her behind the counter. She was wiping down a set of already-clean mugs, as I grabbed Lola’s hand and led her up. “Do you remember me?”

  She looked up and smirked. “Of course. The girl who slept with Roberto.”

  Lola hiccupped in shock behind me. “What?”

  “He let me sleep drunk on his sofa!” I blurted, already feeling my ears heat. “Wasn’t like that!”

  Isabel was already laughing, waving me off like I was a flustered little sister. “Whatever you say, bella. What can I get you and your ragazza?” Isabel asked smoothly, already turning toward the espresso machine.

  “Is that question just polite?” I eyed her warily. She was already pulling two cups off the wall, a sky-blue one and a pale pink mug that said World’s Cutest Hero.

  “Yup,” Isabel replied with a wink. “I’m already working on your order.”

  She motioned toward the tables. “Vai. Go sit somewhere. I’ll bring you and your amico carino your caffè.”

  Amico carino? Cute friend? I sighed. “She’s— Never mind.”

  “Should we sit near the window?” Lola asked, already steering us toward a cozy little corner table. The sunlight was low now, the glass catching the last rays and washing the table in soft gold.

  A perfect little island of calm. Probably the last one I’ll get for a while, I thought grimly.

  As I glanced out the window, the little street outside bustled with evening life. AI cars hummed past, their lights flickering in the growing dusk, while a couple of pedestrians strolled by with takeaway bags swinging at their sides. The world looked normal out there, still not many robots.

  Too normal.

  Lola, sitting across from me, was tapping away on her tablet. She was focused, brow furrowed in that concentrated way she had when researching things she thought I might forget. Then she gasped, soft, but unmistakable, and turned as pink as the cup Isabel had just placed in front of her.

  “Thanks, Isabel,” I said reflexively, but the woman was already gone, vanishing back behind the counter like some kind of coffee ninja.

  “Never mind…” I leaned forward, raising an eyebrow. “What’s wrong? Not much of a coffee lover?”

  “I... uhm...” Lola fumbled, gripping the tablet in both hands and pressing it against her chest like it might shield her from whatever embarrassing discovery she’d just made. “That... that barista? Your friend?”

  “Isabel?” I tilted my head. “I don’t really know her-know her. I know her brother. Roberto. He was always my drinking buddy.”

  I lifted my mug, the same blue one Isabel had chosen, and took a careful sip.

  The coffee hit instantly. Smooth, rich, with a dark, slightly nutty undertone. No bitter aftertaste. Just a bold warmth that spread through my chest and shoulders like a soft blanket. The kind of brew that didn’t just wake you up, it made you want to stay awake and savor every sip.

  I miss whiskey… No, bad Charlie! I shook my head to shoo the thought away.

  “Ragazza. Amico carino...” Lola mumbled. “I looked it up.” She gulped and practically whispered the next part. “It’s not exactly neutral. It’s... it can imply things.” Her cheeks flushed deeper. “Do we... do we look like a pair? Or was it just ‘girl’ and ‘cute friend’? Italian is weird.”

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  I blinked, thinking back. “I mean... maybe?” I shrugged. “I did pull you around by the hand earlier. And we’ve kind of been glued together since I dragged you into this mess.” I leaned back slightly, tapping my cup against the table. “But honestly? I’m not really thinking about how people see me. Is that bad?”

  Lola gave the most non-committal shrug-nod I’d ever seen. “Yes. And no.” She straightened up, some of the fluster melting into something more serious. “If you’ll be a celebrity in both worlds,” she said, voice gaining a bit more confidence, “you’ll need to think about how you look. What you do. How you present yourself.”

  Her fingers loosened on the tablet, and she gently set it down beside her coffee cup. “It’s important. Especially as a noble.”

  She ended the little speech with a determined nod, then reached out and tried her coffee. The moment the taste hit her, her eyes brightened and her lips curled into a small, surprised smile. “Okay... this I like.”

  I let Lola enjoy her cup in peace, watching as she cradled it between both hands, taking careful little sips. Every time she lowered the mug, a soft ring of steam curled up into the fading evening light spilling through the café windows.

  Meanwhile, my mind drifted.

  Not just to the battle. Or the fallout.

  But further back.

  All the time in the simulation, the time when I wasn’t supposed to be real. Just data. My mind didn’t exists. I was just NPC being led by computer. Until I wasn’t. Until a soul formed, and Saevrin stood waiting to judge it.

  I rested my palm flat against the table. The wood felt warm from the mug’s heat. Solid. Real.

  “Stupid mud wolves...” I murmured under my breath.

  They needed all to die.

  Every. Single. One.

  “What was that?” Lola interrupted gently, breaking my spiral. “Something about wolves?” She tilted her head, brunette hair slipping over her shoulder. “Frozna told me those wolves are too cute.”

  I narrowed my eyes and picked up my coffee, holding it like a commander about to deliver a death sentence. “Frozna needs to be eliminated. She’s working with the enemy.” I dropped my voice into a grim whisper. “Mud wolves.”

  Lola held up, the mug halfway to her lips. “Uhm... what?” She set the cup down carefully. “What do you mean by eliminated?”

  I let out a long sigh, letting my shoulders relax a little. The weight I’d been carrying felt heavier in a room that felt so safe. “I should probably explain.” I took another slow sip, smooth, just a little bitter now that it had cooled. “I was sent to Saevrin. Judged.”

  I told her about the entire encourter. “But I was given a choice. Three lives. Different starting points.” I leaned back, letting the chair creak softly under my weight. “I chose the one that made sense. But... my actions before that choice? Apparently, I planned a genocide.”

  Lola gasped, hand over her mouth. “What?! No, you didn’t—”

  “Mud wolves.” I deadpanned.

  Her confused shock held for maybe two seconds.

  Then her lips twitched.

  Her eyes crinkled.

  And she burst into giggles.

  The sound was light and contagious, and before I could stop myself, I started giggling too, the absurdity of it all breaking through the tension like sunlight through storm clouds.

  “I swear,” I said between snorts, “they are the reason I’ll have a rough start. Saevrin practically said it.”

  “So...” Lola grinned, trying to wipe tears from the corners of her eyes. “Your biggest sin... the thing tipping your judgment...” She pointed at me, shaking with laughter. “Is harassing low-level monster wildlife?”

  I sighed dramatically. “They are annoying.”

  “No idea what your start will be, then?”

  I shook my head, wiping at my own eyes now. “Not yet.”

  Isabel came by without a word and placed two small cakes in front of us, smiling before slipping back behind the counter.

  Lola and I both glanced after her. I shrugged.

  The cake was a simple slice, vanilla sponge layered with cream and berries, topped with a dusting of powdered sugar that glittered softly under the café lights. Sweet, but not overdone. “So...” Lola started, poking at her slice with her fork. “You were drinking buddies with him? Even before the... y’know?”

  I took a bite of the cake, a tart burst of berry cutting through the sweetness, and nodded. “Y’don’t need to avoid it.” I chewed and swallowed before continuing. “Yes. I was—” I paused briefly, then said it clearly. “I was a man. John. I’m not anymore.”

  Lola’s eyes glistened, but not with pity. Just curiosity. “That’s so cool.” She took a generous bite of her cake.

  “Cool?” I lifted an eyebrow. “I mean... I’m still getting used to it?”

  She burst out laughing, nearly choking, as a crumb bounced off my chest. “No way!”

  “What?!” I pouted, brushing the stray cake away.

  “This, this!” she giggled. “You act like it’s the most normal thing in the world. You’re a natural. Like you were born a woman.”

  I paused, fork halfway to my mouth.

  The café was softly buzzing around us. Quiet conversation, the hiss of the espresso machine, Isabel humming faintly to herself behind the counter. No one was staring. No one was watching.

  They just saw me. Charlie.

  Not John. Not some confused, half-formed identity. Just... me. I looked down at the cake, the simple sweetness of it grounding me more than I expected.

  I was John. That wasn’t a burden to erase.

  It was a truth.

  A foundation.

  Those years shaped me. The friendships, the mistakes, the fights, the long nights wondering if anything I did mattered. All of it led here. Even the simulation, even if it was all lines of code pretending to be real, it was my life. My choices.

  I wasn’t shedding that name like an old costume.

  John had been a beginning. Charlie was the continuation. The two weren’t in conflict. They were the same soul, growing. Twice the years. Twice the lessons. Twice the reason to push forward, even now. I smiled softly and set my fork down. “You’re right.”

  Lola blinked halfway through another bite. “I am getting used to it,” I said. “And I think I’m okay with that. But tomorrow… There may be a decision.”

  “To die,” Lola whispered. “That’s scary. To believe strangers, you will be alive.”

  I chuckled, though it sounded hollow to my own ears. The idea had been trailing me since Saevrin first gave me the choice. That stupid crow and his stupid divine authority. “I know.” I shrugged, though my fingers tightened slightly around my coffee cup. “They’re a cult. And apparently, that’s what cults are great at.”

  “Making people die?” Lola’s voice was deadpan.

  I laughed, shaking my head. “We’ll see tomorrow.”

  At first, I thought the sound behind me was just a chair scraping the floor, the tired screech of worn metal legs on tile. I paid it no mind. It were tires outside, because the door chimed, and a booming voice shattered the quiet hum of the café.

  “Isabel! Eccomi! Your favorite brother has arrived!”

  Heads turned. A few patrons chuckled softly. Isabel didn’t even glance up from her coffee grinder. She just gave the smallest nod toward our table.

  Roberto needed no more permission. He was already striding across the room with the confidence of a man who belonged everywhere. “Charlie!” he greeted me, grin wide enough to compete with the café windows for sunlight. “Nice seeing you here.”

  Without waiting, he pulled a chair from the neighboring table, where a couple was halfway through their pastries.

  The man looked up, startled. “Eh, non ti dispiace?” he asked the man, gave him a charming smile and the man just shook his head in surprised surrender.

  Roberto grabbed a chair from the next table and spun it around so the back faced us. Then he swung one leg over and dropped into it the wrong way, resting his arms casually across the backrest. Before I could point that out, his eyes slid to Lola, his grin widening. “And who’s this charming bella?”

  “Lola.” I said her name gently, tilting my head to urge her to introduce herself.

  She didn’t.

  Instead, she grabbed her tablet and hugged it like a shield. Fair enough. If she wasn’t ready, she wasn’t. “Oookay.” I pivoted smoothly, turning back to Roberto. “Are you free tomorrow morning?”

  “Sì, sì,” he grinned, leaning forward on the chair back. “Need to go somewhere?”

  I returned his grin, sharp and just a little wicked. “Yeah.” I let the moment hang just long enough for him to lean in, curious. “I’ve got a meeting scheduled...” I paused, savoring the ridiculousness.

  “... with a cult and prayer to god.”