The fluorescent lights blind my eyes as I blink them open. Stars are spinning as I move my gaze to the doctor hovering above me. The cold of his hands seeps through his clean, white gloves as a small vial of liquid is injected into my veins. I shiver involuntarily, but not from the cold air circulating the room.
It’s the engine. What my heart was replaced with a few days ago. Wrapped in synthetic tissue, it no longer has a pulse. It doesn’t beat like a real heart would, only buzzes and whirs, like a machine pretending it’s alive. Each new “upgrade”, as they call it, has turned me into more of a machine. The doctor had said it wasn’t supposed to “hurt” only for it to hum. But it did. The humming was more like a raging fire below my rib cage, unable to be extinguished.
My humanity feels as though it’s slipping away, day by day. I imagined I would have been saved by now--that someone cared I was missing. But with all the connections I had made, most of them only had been superficial. Society seems to have been right. No one could be trusted, especially with the conspiracy for the Communist rebellion running rampant. I didn’t have a safe place to call home, so in a way, I should be grateful. Grateful for being somewhere I don’t need to fear bombs dropping at any moment.
It was difficult to find work at all, with the need for human employees decreasing by the hundreds every day. Automation has been creeping in all too subtly. The jobs, once held by my coworkers, were now replaced with motorized machines. The news of the Communists had been spreading rampantly. They were now saying they had infiltrated into our society. It could be your neighbor down the street, or a friend next door, but you couldn't believe anyone. There had been rumors of neighbors vanishing in the night, coming back only days later in better shape than they were when they left--smiling too much, standing straighter, and speaking with more intrigue than they should have.
I stare at the assistant in the corner--Axel. He was clad in clean clothing, hair trimmed short in military fashion, and had pale gray eyes. Eyes that seemed surreal, that’s how perfect they were. Using the clipboard in his hands, his eyes didn't blink once. Weird. I’ve been down here for months and have never seen the guy eat, blink, or breathe. That’s not normal. There’s no way it’s possible. Surely at some point, I would have noticed something. The doctor adjusted a dial on the console beside me.

I can’t believe it, but it all makes sense now. The way Axel’s smile never really seemed quite right, and his emotionless eyes never blinked.
Axel. He was their prototype.
I didn’t know what to think after coming to that realization. A few things changed after the doctor declared it was “Phase Three”. Axel started staying late to ask personal questions about my family. He started smiling more and would try mimicking my emotions often. Only after a few days did I realize what was going on. I thought this was just the doctor trying to get into my head. But I soon understood: Axel was learning to feel. Or at least practicing to fake it.
I remember the night it all began. I had just finished my single late shift at the factory. It was just after midnight when I was walking the route I took home. I had always felt safe, being around the guards on duty constantly. Even the human connections I felt on my commute to work filled me with reassurance. But this night, the street was quieter than usual. Thinking nothing of it, I continued walking until I saw the headlights blaring straight at me. The white van screeched to a stop in front of me, throwing open the slider door. That’s the last of what I remember.
Now, trapped in the basement of some secret facility, I finally understand the truth. They’re not replacing jobs, but rather people. The doctor stood at my feet reviewing his virtual chart.
“We’re ahead of schedule. Tomorrow, we will introduce the empathy mode. Then we’ll begin social testing. You’ll meet other humans. Talk to them and integrate into their society,” the doctor proclaimed. My eyes seemed to be pleading as he followed up with, “Don’t worry. Axel will guide you. He’s our best.”
Axel stepped closer. His face twitched -- imitating a sense of sympathy. “You’ll get used to it, just as I did.”
I let that sink in as I finally realized what it meant. Axel had been someone else before. If they already had success, what were they creating more androids for?