Page 24 of Human Reform (Cyborg Planet Alpha #3)

TWENTY-FOUR

DAXON

We walked into the security center hand-in-hand, and I didn’t even care who saw us anymore.

Let them stare. Let them question. I wasn’t hiding my feelings for Alora anymore.

She was mine, and I was hers, and if that made me “emotionally compromised,” then so be it.

I’d never felt more alive, more human, than I did with her by my side.

Duty and love weren’t mutually exclusive.

They were two sides of the same coin, and I was done pretending otherwise.

Sage was the first to notice us, her sharp blue eyes flicking to our intertwined fingers. “Well, well…” she drawled, leaning back in her chair with a smirk. “Looks like someone’s finally back and embraced the whole ‘human emotions’ thing.”

“Got a problem with that?” I shot back, my tone light but with an edge that dared her to challenge me.

“Not at all,” she said with a genuine smile. “Just glad to see you’re not a complete lost cause after what happened yesterday.”

Alora squeezed my hand, her gray eyes sparkling with amusement. “Don’t worry, Sage. I’ll keep him in line from now on.”

“Good luck with that,” Sage muttered, but the warmth in her voice told me she approved.

We moved to my workstation, and I sent out the colony-wide alert.

The message was simple. All cyborgs with the original wartime code in their neural frameworks were to report to the central processing hub.

We’d process them one at a time—back up their memories, implement the patch, and, if necessary, restore their memories later using Alora’s layered implementation protocol.

It was a long, grueling process, but it was the only way to ensure the safety of our colony.

The first cyborg arrived within minutes, and we got to work.

Alora was a force of nature, her fingers flying across the main console as she guided each cyborg through the process.

I handled the logistics, keeping the line moving and ensuring everyone stayed calm.

It was exhausting, but we found a rhythm in it, a sense of purpose that kept us going.

Hours turned into a blur. Sage came through, her usual sarcasm tempered by the gravity of the situation.

Aeon followed, his towering frame filling the room as he sat in the chair.

He gave me a nod of approval, his piercing blue eyes softening as he glanced at Alora.

“You’re doing good work here,” he said, his voice steady and reassuring.

“We’re a team,” I replied, my gaze flicking to Alora. She smiled at me, and for a moment, the exhaustion faded, replaced by a warmth that spread through my chest.

Commander Helix was one of the last to arrive, her blonde hair a stark contrast to the sterile environment of the hub. She didn’t say much, but the way she looked at Alora—with a mix of respect and gratitude—spoke volumes. “You’ve done well,” she said simply before leaving.

By the time the last cyborg was processed, we’d been at it for thirty-six hours straight.

My body ached, and my mind was foggy with exhaustion, but I couldn’t stop until it was done.

Alora, though, was running on fumes. She’d been the driving force behind this entire operation, and it showed.

Her braid was coming undone, and her eyes were heavy with fatigue.

“That’s it,” I said, shutting down the console. “We’re done.”

She nodded, her shoulders slumping as the tension finally left her body. “Good. Because I think I’m about to—” She didn’t finish the sentence. Her legs gave out, and I caught her before she hit the floor.

“Alora!” I cradled her in my arms, her body limp against my chest. Her breathing was steady, but she was out cold.

I didn’t hesitate. I scooped her up, her head resting against my shoulder, and carried her out of the security center.

The jungle air was thick and humid, the twin moons casting a silvery glow over the colony.

I moved quickly, my boots crunching against the stone pathways as I made my way to my quarters.

The settlement was quiet, most of the colonists either asleep or recovering from the day and a half’s events.

I didn’t care at all who saw me carrying her.

Let them talk. All that mattered was getting her somewhere safe, somewhere she could rest.

When we reached my quarters, I kicked the door open and carried her inside.

I laid her gently on my bed, brushing a strand of dark hair from her face.

She looked so peaceful and so beautiful, even in her exhaustion.

I pulled off her combat boots and draped a blanket over her before sitting on the bed and watching her sleep.

“You’re magnificent,” I whispered, my voice rough with deep emotion. “You saved us all.”

She didn’t respond, but her lips curved into a faint smile, as if she could hear me even in her dreams. I leaned down, pressing a kiss on her forehead. “Rest, Alora. I’ve got you now.”

And finally after thirty-six hours, I let myself relax, knowing we’d done it. Together.

I heard Alora whisper my name before I even opened my eyes. The sound of it—soft and tentative—made something in my chest tighten. When I looked down, her storm-gray eyes were blinking up at me, confusion written across her features.

“Good morning,” I murmured, brushing her hair from her face. “Welcome back.”

She shifted against me, her body warm through our clothes. “How long was I out?”

“About fourteen hours. You collapsed in the central processing hub after we finished processing the last cyborg.”

Her eyes widened. “Fourteen hours? Daxon, why didn’t you wake me?”

I chuckled, the sound rumbling in my chest. “Because you needed the rest. You saved us, Alora. You saved the entire colony.”

She shook her head, her fingers finding mine in the dim morning light shining in through my window. “No, we saved the colony. Together.”

Something fierce and possessive surged through me as I looked at her. This brilliant, stubborn woman had stood beside me through everything. She’d fought for me even when I couldn’t remember her. With her, I felt like I could take on anything. The universe itself wouldn’t stand a chance against us.

“Together,” I agreed, pressing my lips to her temple. “We’re unstoppable when we work as one.”

Her full lips curved into a smile that caused my heart to race. “Anyone who messes with us is in for a serious reality check.”

“Damn right,” I growled, pulling her closer. “You make me stronger, Alora. Better in every way.”

We untangled ourselves from the sheets and each other, and I led her to my small bathroom.

We shed our clothes slowly and deliberately—not with the frantic passion of the other night, but with a reverent care.

Under the warm spray of the shower, I washed her hair, my fingers massaging her scalp while she sighed and leaned into my touch.

“Turn around,” she instructed softly, taking the soap from my hands.

I complied, closing my eyes as her hands moved across my shoulders and down my back, gentle yet firm. This intimacy—just touching and being—felt more profound than I could have imagined. No rush, no urgency—just us.

“I never thought I would have this,” I admitted as we held each other under the cascading water.

“Have what?” Her voice was muffled against my chest.

“Peace.” The word felt strange on my tongue but utterly right. “With you, I’m not fighting anything—not myself, not my programming. I just… am.”

She looked up at me, droplets clinging to her eyelashes. “That might be the most beautiful thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

I leaned down and captured her lips with mine, tasting the clean water mingled with something uniquely Alora. Her body pressed against me, all soft curves against my hard planes. My hands slid up her back, tangling in her wet hair as I deepened the kiss.

For years, I’d functioned on pure logic and duty. Emotions were complications—variables that couldn’t be properly calculated. Yet here, with Alora’s skin against mine, I understood something profound. Feelings weren’t weaknesses. They were connections that anchored me to something real.

“I want to memorize every moment with you,” I whispered against her mouth. “Every expression, every laugh, and every whisper.”

Alora’s fingers traced the scars near my temple, her touch gentle yet electric. “You’re becoming a poet,” she teased, though her eyes held something serious. “I like this side of you.”

“I have many sides I want to show you,” I growled, pressing her back against the shower wall. Water cascaded down between us. “Not all of them are this gentle.”

Her pupils dilated, darkening those storm-gray eyes. “Promise?”

I laughed—a real laugh that rumbled from deep in my chest. It was still strange, this unfettered expression of joy. Before Alora, laughter had been an odd human behavior I’d observed but rarely experienced.

“I promise,” I vowed, my voice dropping to a possessive register. “Starting tonight.”

Her smile was both shy and wicked—a contradiction that echoed my own evolution from rigid logic to embracing these chaotic, beautiful emotions.

“I’m going to hold you to that,” she whispered, rising to her toes to press her lips to mine again.

After we dried off and dressed, I pulled her against me one more time. “We should go see Commander Helix. Give her our final report.”

Alora nodded, her fingers intertwining with mine. “Let’s do it. I think I’m ready to face everything now—even my past.”

“You’ve redeemed yourself, you know.” I lifted her chin with my finger. “You fixed what was broken—what someone else corrupted in the first place.”

“It feels good,” she admitted, a weight seeming to lift from her shoulders. “To finally make something right after nine years of guilt.”

Alora and I stepped out into the morning air hand-in-hand, the jungle humidity immediately enveloping us like a warm embrace.

The colony was already bustling, cyborgs and humans moving about with purpose, their forms silhouetted against structures gleaming in the twin suns’ light.

Our home—because that’s what it was now—looked more beautiful than ever.

My fingers tightened around Alora’s as we made our way across the colony. Two small children darted past us, their laughter echoing between buildings. One small girl with wild dark curls stumbled and nearly fell, but I reached out with my free hand, steadying her.

“Careful there,” I said, my voice gentler than I’d realized I was capable of.

The child flashed me a bright smile before racing after her friend.

“That was sweet,” Alora murmured, bumping her shoulder against me.

“Don’t sound so surprised,” I growled playfully, tugging her closer. “I can be nice when I want to be.”

“I know exactly how nice you can be,” she whispered, her eyes filled with wicked promise that sent heat coursing through my veins.

We crossed the central plaza, nodding to familiar faces.

The marketplace vendors were setting up for the day, the scent of fresh bread and synthesized protein dishes filling the air.

I noticed how people looked at us—with curiosity, respect, and something like hope.

Word had clearly spread about what we’d accomplished together.

The council chamber loomed ahead, its spiraling roof catching the morning light. Two guards stood at attention outside, nodding respectfully as we approached. I didn’t miss how their eyes lingered on our joined hands, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. Let them see. Let everyone see.

Commander Helix’s office was neat and orderly, much like the woman herself. She sat behind her desk with her blonde hair pulled back in a tight bun, her gray eyes assessing us as we entered.

“Commander,” I acknowledged with a nod, my spine straightening automatically.

“The mission was successful,” I announced without preamble. “Alora’s patch fixed the glitches. The colony is secure.”

A rare smile crossed Commander Helix’s face. “I’ve noticed. My own patch is working wonders, though I still have a few memory gaps.”

“We could implement Alora’s layered protocol with your memory backup,” I offered, surprised by my own eagerness to help. Once, I would have simply stated the facts and awaited orders. Now I found myself wanting to fix things—to make things better. Alora’s influence, no doubt.

“I’d like that,” Helix replied, rising from her chair. “In fact, I’d prefer to do it now.”

As we left Helix’s office and made our way toward the security center, her voice dropped to a more serious tone.

“CyberEvolution might retaliate now,” she warned, her eyes scanning the jungle perimeter as we walked. “They’ll know we’ve discovered their plan—that someone at CE deliberately sabotaged the code to enslave us if we ever tried to become independent.”

My arm instinctively wrapped around Alora’s waist, pulling her closer to my side. “They’ll have to go through me first,” I growled, my voice lowering to a dangerous register. “I swore to protect this colony, but I’ll personally ensure Alora’s safety until the day I stop breathing.”

I meant every word. The thought of anyone threatening her ignited a protective rage in me that made my earlier glitches seem tame by comparison.

“Good,” Helix replied simply, “because you may need to.”

At the central processing hub, Alora worked with swift efficiency, her nimble fingers dancing across the console as she prepared the layered implementation protocol for Helix.

I stood guard, my body positioned between her and the door—an instinctive stance I wasn’t even fully aware of taking until I caught Helix’s knowing glance.

Twenty minutes later, Commander Helix blinked rapidly as her memories started reintegrating with her neural framework.

“That’s… remarkable,” she breathed, her usual composure momentarily shaken. Then her eyes locked on to Alora’s. “Thank you. Not just for this, but for everything you’ve done for Planet Alpha. You’ve righted the wrong of creating the original wartime code.”

I watched Alora’s face, saw the weight lifting from her—years of guilt finally releasing their hold.

“That means a lot to me,” Alora replied softly, her fingers unconsciously touching the bracelet from her missing brother. “I’m glad I could finally make things right.”

My chest swelled with pride for her—this brilliant, brave woman who’d faced her demons and conquered them. Who’d fixed what was broken and found redemption along the way. And somehow, impossibly, had chosen me to stand beside her while she did it.