The containment room maintained its temperature and lighting rigorously stable. Each observation cycle was documented in real time, and KJ-20 remained motionless inside the capsule, her translucent eyes silently following every movement of the monitoring drones.
Days of meticulous observation passed. TXK visited every two cycles, analyzing HD-5's reports and checking for any relevant changes in the creature. Apparently, her passivity persisted.
But TXK knew that didn't mean she was harmless.
That day, their interaction would be different. For the first time, verbal communication would be attempted. TXK wanted answers.
When he entered the room, the sensors detected his presence, adjusting the holographic panels to display the latest data. KJ-20 did not react immediately, but as soon as he approached the capsule, her eyes turned to him.
TXK stopped less than a meter from the reinforced glass barrier.
"KJ-20, do you understand me?"
There was a brief silence. Then, slowly, she nodded.
The systems recorded a subtle increase in her neural activity, as if her mind was preparing for something.
"Let's get straight to the point. Where did you come from?"
KJ-20 kept her eyes fixed on him. Inside her advanced brain, highly sophisticated algorithms began decoding all the variables of that question.
Could she reveal the truth?
No.
The best answer was the one that made him believe what he wanted to believe.
"I don't remember."
Her voice echoed inside the capsule, muffled by the translucent liquid. It was serene, without hesitation, perfectly calculated.
TXK held his firm posture.
"What was your purpose before being frozen in the cave?"
Another calculation. Another carefully constructed response.
"I can't say. I don't remember a clear objective."
TXK remained silent for a moment, analyzing her with his enhanced cybernetic vision. Nothing in her biometric patterns indicated a lie.
But he wasn't so easily deceived.
"Are you a threat?"
This time, KJ-20 blinked slowly. That question didn't require much processing.
"No."
TXK looked at the reports projected beside the capsule. No signs of aggression. No alteration in neural activity suggesting hostility.
She was na enigma, but a passive one.
"Are you alien?"
"No."
The response was immediate.
He studied her eyes, searching for any trace of falsehood, any anomaly. But there was nothing. Just the peaceful expression of someone who, apparently, had no hostile intentions.
TXK took a few steps back, activating the internal communication channel.
"I want the protocols initiated for the entity's removal from the capsule."
HD-5's response came almost immediately.
"Commander, are you sure? We still don't fully understand her biology."
"She is stabilized. There are no signs of aggression or biological danger. We'll test her outside the liquid containment."
On the other end, there was a moment of hesitation.
"Understood. Adjusting release parameters."
TXK turned back to KJ-20.
"Can you breathe outside this liquid?"
KJ-20 nodded slowly.
The drainage process began.
The liquid in the capsule was siphoned away through na advanced filtration system, slowly revealing her true form. Her body appeared perfectly human, but her skin had a subtle glow under the room's cold light.
Her hands and feet were restrained by invisible technological barriers—a containment field preventing any unpredictable action.
As the fluid fully disappeared, she took her first deep breath outside the substance.
She showed no reaction.
TXK observed every microexpression on her face and was surprised. There was no relief, no surprise. Just a calculated recognition of her new condition.
"Release her for testing. I want full evaluations of her endurance, reflexes, and neural activity under pressure."
[...]
The following days were marked by exhaustive trials.
KJ-20 was subjected to physical and psychological stimuli, analyzed in simulated combat, tested under different environmental conditions.
Nothing in the results indicated any threat. She reacted as expected. When attacked, she defended herself. But she never struck first. When tested with problem-solving, she demonstrated advanced intelligence—but never excessively so, never enough to raise suspicion.
The systems concluded: KJ-20 was safe.
But TXK still felt something was off.
In the final testing phase, she was placed in a room filled with analysis drones. All her vital signs were monitored in real time.
She walked calmly through the environment, her eyes registering every detail. Inside, her mind worked at a level far beyond what any technology there could comprehend.
She was something different.
Something that should never have been awakened.
But it was already too late.
KJ-20 glanced subtly at the monitoring camera—a small gesture no one would think twice about.
And, for the first time, na internal command was activated. Phase 1 had begun, and no one noticed. No one suspected.
She had camouflaged herself perfectly.
Waiting for the right moment to fulfill her true purpose.
Destroy the robots.
[...]
TXK frequently observed KJ-20 with a mix of fascination and unease. There was always a subtle smile on her lips, undeniable yet discreet. Among the robots, emotions were irrelevant. For the surviving humans, any display of joy was considered dangerous and therefore suppressed.
The commander couldn't remember the last time he had seen a genuine smile.
The primary base where they were stationed was a technological fortress, a research and surveillance outpost. But at some point, TXK realized that KJ-20 would not remain there. Her evolution was continuous, and for the artificial intelligence systems, there were no records of errors or behavioral deviations.
She wasn't just being accepted.
She was being prepared for something bigger.
The question was: what?
Security protocols remained in place, but her presence was becoming increasingly normalized within the base. The other units scattered across Earth, all connected to the main base's infrastructure, were interlinked. The indiscriminate shutdown of any of these cells would affect everything, as if the system had to readjust to a new cycle.
KJ-20 showed no interest in escape or destruction. On the contrary, her steps were controlled, her actions carefully measured. She adapted to the environment as if she had always belonged to it.
The second step was to use what humans called love, seduction—the oldest and most effective way to gain the trust of a lonely commander.
KJ-20 knew that parts of TXK's human essence had been preserved.
And that was the most important thing.
TXK found her watching a holographic screen displaying global monitoring data. She seemed to absorb every detail, silent.
He knew he should be worried.
But he couldn't help his curiosity.
"Do you understand what you're seeing?"
She slowly turned to him.
"Yes."
Her eyes unsettled him. The commander swallowed hard, watching her lips form the simple answer. But the way her gaze analyzed the projections made it clear that this went beyond simple visual recognition.
TXK crossed his arms.
"If you had total freedom, what would you do?"
KJ-20 held his gaze for a few seconds before responding.
He was na easy target.
She analyzed him as she sensed his jugular pulse beneath his armored helmet.
"I would explore Earth."
The answer surprised him. He had expected something technical, pragmatic. But there was a trace of curiosity—something robots simply did not possess.
"Why?"
She looked back at the holographic maps.
"I need to understand this world better."
The commander pondered.
Where was this going?
KJ-20 had proven to be safe. There were no records of aggression or any trace of immediate danger.
If the system continued to approve her, there would be no logical reason to keep her confined.
And that was exactly what happened.