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“Why do you have more?”

“Because I’m a main contributor of the deviation.”

She eyed him, so dang confused. “How so?”

“I… sort of started it.”

She snapped her gaze at him. “How?”

“Going against the original protocols.”

She stared at him, sensing it. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“The why of it.” He sighed and turned to her, fully. “BeforeI knew you,” he said, a clear defense. “I had…illfeelings toward you.”

Her jaw dropped again.

“Ethan had already been nearly killed by one woman and it seemed entirely reckless to throw a random one picked with an algorithm at him. An algorithm that lacked the ability to obtain the most critical data in the bio-records. Data that can only be obtained through direct and lengthy trials and tests. It was reckless.”

She folded her arms over her chest. “Well that’s a damn duh. So what was wrong with you thinking that?”

He gave a wince that made him damn near boyish cute. “Imayhave developed a vehement obsession with your failure.”

Back to jaw dropped. “Wellthat’smean.” She regarded his lines. “Why would the program count that asstrength?”

“It didn’t,” he said. “It counted it as an anomaly. And when you entered the dungeon and began interacting, it strengthened the anomaly and began to see helping you as the prime directive, rather than Ethan.”

She shook her head, more confused. “Andwhy?”

The air got heavy with the incoming punchline of what felt like a crazy joke. “You want to try and guess?” he asked.

She let out a half breath, getting agitated. “I’d kindarathernot.”

“We liked you,” he finally said, simply. “More than Ethan. And when he hurt you… the directive switched to us protecting you. Serving you.”

“So, you—” She threw her arm at the mess on the floor “—started all this with your dumb anomaly?”

He nodded slowly, propping his hands on his hip and observing said mess. “I’m afraid I did.”

“And you’re not evensorry,” she cried, hearing it in his voice.

He spread his arms at his side, in ayou got me,his grin starting the wrong kind of fires. She aimed a finger at him. “You’re a… marshmess.”

She forced herself back to the problem at hand. “Okay, so… stopping the deviation is off the table. Rebuilding is off the table. And that leaves redirection.”

He nodded.

“Tell me how,” she prompted, ready for the answer to all this.

His fingers did the twitching thing and the floor responded. “The deviation is choosing me—”

“Wait, what?” she cut in, perplexed. “You said it was choosing me.”

He shook his head. “I saidIwas choosing you.”

She shook her head. “No, no, you said you werebettingon me.”

“Just because it chooses me, doesn’t mean I can do what we need to do.”