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THREE

OLIVIA

I blinked against the harsh light that burned through my eyelids. My head pounded with each heartbeat, a steady rhythm of pain that reminded me I was alive, if nothing else.

“What the hell?” My voice cracked, my throat dry as sandpaper.

The ceiling above me wasn’t the familiar off-white of my bedroom, nor the speckled tiles of the hospital. Instead, a seamless metallic surface reflected my blurry image, the light emanating from no visible source. I tried to sit up, my muscles protesting with every movement.

This wasn’t right. None of this was right.

The memory hit me like a punch to the gut—hands grabbing me in my driveway, the prick of a needle, and darkness swallowing me whole. I touched my neck where the sedative had entered my system and winced.

“This isn’t happening.” I swung my legs over the edge of what seemed to be a medical bed, far more advanced than anything I’d ever worked with at Memorial Hospital. “This cannot be real.”

The room around me hummed with energy. Sleek equipment lined the walls, displays flickering with readings I couldn’t interpret from this distance. The air tasted different—recycled and purified. Simply wrong.

“Oh my god.” The realization crashed down on me. “I’m not on Earth anymore.”

I laughed, the sound brittle and hollow in the sterile room. The kind of laugh you made when the alternative was screaming at the top of your lungs.

“This is ridiculous. People don’t get kidnapped and taken to other planets.

That’s not a thing that happens to normal people like me anyway.

” I ran my fingers through my tangled hair.

“Definitely not a thing that happens to an overworked obstetrician who just wanted to go home and sit with a cup of hot tea and wallow in her grief.”

Suddenly, another flashback hit me. Before I lost consciousness, I remembered seeing him—a face too perfect to be natural, his movements too precise to be human.

A cyborg. Like the ones from the war but different somehow.

His eyes had seemed almost... concerned?

No, that couldn’t be right. The sedative must have messed with my perception.

“Benjamin would have a field day with this.” I choked on the words, memories of my best friend flooding back. Benjamin had insisted just before he died that cyborgs were more than weapons. That underneath their programming, something human remained.

I didn’t believe him. Not after watching what they did during the war.

“So what now?” I paced the length of the room, anger building with each step. “You kidnap a doctor and expect what exactly? Compliance? A fucking thank you note?”

My voice echoed off the walls, unanswered.

I stopped at what appeared to be a window, though it revealed no recognizable landscape. Just trees—countless trees resembling a rainforest.

“This is insane. I deliver babies. I don’t... I’m not...” I pressed my forehead against the cool surface. “I’m not equipped for this.”

But beneath the fear and anger, a small voice whispered inside me—the same voice that had gotten me through medical school, through the war, through losing Benjamin.

“Figure it out, Liv.”

I moved away from the window, my heart racing as I took in the medical bay around me.

The equipment was sleek, almost alien in its design—a far cry from the cluttered, chaotic hospitals I was used to.

Everything had its place, minimalist and efficient.

Despite my fear, I couldn’t help but be impressed.

“Okay, Liv, think,” I muttered to myself, resting my hand on my hip. “You’re clearly on some distant planet, surrounded by a rainforest, and you’ve been kidnapped by... cyborgs?”

The word felt ridiculous on my tongue. Cyborgs were weapons of war, not kidnappers. What could they possibly want with an obstetrician?

My mind raced through possibilities, each more terrifying than the last. Were they planning to experiment on me? Use me as bait in some twisted game? The uncertainty made my skin crawl.

I paced the room again, my steps echoing off the metallic floor in the quiet space. “Come on. You survived the attack during the war. You can survive this.”

But even as I tried to rally my courage, fear crept in. I was alone, unarmed, in an alien world. I had never felt so vulnerable in my life.

“Okay, new plan,” I whispered to myself. “Play along. Figure out what they want. Look for weaknesses. Then, when the moment’s right?—”

The door hissed open, cutting off my impromptu escape planning. I whirled around, my heart leaping into my throat.

A man stood in the doorway. No, not a man—a cyborg.

The same one from the van. My kidnapper.

But seeing him now, in the bright light of the medical bay, I was struck by how.

.. human he looked. Tall, muscular, with a face that could’ve graced the cover of a fitness magazine.

If it wasn’t for the subtle rigidness in his demeanor, I might’ve mistaken him for just another incredibly attractive man.

Fury boiled up inside me, momentarily eclipsing my fear. “You!” I snarled, jabbing a finger at him. “What the hell is going on? Where am I? What do you want with me?”

He regarded me calmly, his expression maddeningly neutral. “Dr. Parker, I understand you’re confused and angry?—”

“Confused and angry?” I laughed, the sound sharp. “That doesn’t even begin to cover it! You kidnapped me! Drugged me! Brought me to god knows where!”

“I assure you, we mean you no harm,” he said, his voice infuriatingly reasonable. “Your skills are needed here. We?—”

“My skills?” I interrupted, my voice rising. “I’m an obstetrician, not a soldier! What could you possibly need me for?”

He opened his mouth to respond, but I was too worked up to let him get a word in. “And don’t give me that ‘we mean you no harm’ bullshit. You’re cyborgs. Weapons. I’ve seen what you can do.”

A flicker of something—hurt? Regret?—passed across his face so quickly I thought I must’ve imagined it.

“Dr. Parker, I know this situation is far from ideal. But I promise you, everything will be explained in due time. For now, I think it’s best if we focus on making you comfortable.

You must be hungry and thirsty after your ordeal. ”

I stared at him, momentarily thrown by his considerate tone and carefully thought-out words. This wasn’t how cyborgs were supposed to act or talk. They were thoughtless machines. Not... whatever this was.

“I’m going to get you some food and water,” he continued, seemingly unperturbed by my silence. “Is there anything specific you’d prefer?”

I laughed again, the sound bordering on hysterical. “Prefer? As if this is some kind of room service situation?”

He tilted his head, looking genuinely confused. “I... I’m not familiar with that term. But if there’s a particular type of sustenance you require?—”

“Just... just go,” I said, suddenly exhausted. “Get whatever. I don’t care.”

He nodded, turning to leave. Just before he reached the door, I called out, “Wait.”

He paused, looking back at me expectantly.

“What’s your name?” I asked, not entirely sure why I cared.

For a moment, I thought I saw a hint of a smile on his face. “Aeon,” he said. “My name is Aeon.”

Then he was gone, leaving me alone with my thoughts and a growing sense that nothing about this situation was what it seemed.

I sank down onto the edge of the medical bed, my knees suddenly too weak to support me. The realization hit me with the force of a hurricane. I’d just had a civil conversation with a cyborg, one who looked at me with what appeared to be genuine concern.

“What the hell is happening here?” I whispered to myself, pressing my hands to my face.

The cyborgs I remembered from the war were emotionless killing machines.

Cold, calculated, and very efficient. They’d moved with mechanical precision, their eyes vacant as they executed their programming.

I had patched up countless soldiers who’d barely escaped their lethal grasp.

Yet Aeon seemed... different. Almost human.

His voice had carried inflection, his eyes had shown what looked like empathy. And when I lashed out at him, I saw that brief flash of what might’ve been hurt in his expression.

“They were supposed to be decommissioned,” I murmured, running my hand through my hair. “Deactivated and dismantled after the war.”

The arrangement was that the surviving cyborgs would be shut down, rendering them useless, and their remains would be handled somehow. Though I wasn’t too sure of all the details of the situation, just what the news had said about it.

So how was Aeon here, on this strange planet, functioning with what appeared to be enhanced emotional capacity?

Benjamin’s face suddenly flashed in my mind, his eyes intense as he gripped my arm with his remaining strength. “Promise me, Liv. They’re more than weapons. They’re evolving. They need your help.”

I had dismissed his words as delirium, the ramblings of a dying man.

I had held his hand as he slipped away, tears streaming down my face as I lost the closest thing to family I had left.

In the two years since, I had pushed his final request from my mind, focusing instead on the actual humans who needed my help.

Now, I wasn’t so sure what to think.

“What did you know, Ben?” I whispered to the empty room. “What did you see that I didn’t?”

I shook my head, forcing myself back to reality. Whatever Aeon was, however human he might seem, the fact remained that I had been kidnapped. Taken from my home, my life, and my patients on Earth. No matter how confused I felt about what I was seeing, my priority had to be finding a way back.

I glanced around the room, assessing potential escape routes.

The door Aeon had disappeared through was the most obvious option, but without knowing what lay beyond it, rushing out would be foolish.

The window seemed sealed tightly, and even if I could break it somehow, I had no idea what kind of atmosphere this planet had.

For all I knew, the air outside could be toxic.

“Think,” I muttered to myself.

But even as I plotted, part of me couldn’t help wondering about Aeon’s words. “Your skills are needed here.” What could an obstetrician possibly offer a group of cyborgs? Unless...

The door hissed open again, interrupting my thoughts.

Aeon stepped in, carrying a tray loaded with food and water.

His movements were precise yet powerful, each step radiating a controlled strength that made the room feel suddenly smaller.

Without his tactical gear, dressed now in simple fitted clothes, his physique was even more imposing—broad shoulders, trim waist, and muscles that shifted visibly beneath fabric.

He looked like a warrior god from some ancient mythology story.

He set the tray down on a nearby table, those piercing blue eyes finding mine. Despite everything, my heartbeat quickened.

“I hope this will be satisfactory,” he said, his deep voice filling the room. “We’ve studied human nutritional requirements extensively.”