The apartment was perched on the 32nd floor of a luxury high-rise just off the Vegas Strip. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a panoramic view of neon chaos—casinos, clubs, and the desert beyond. It was the kind of place you rented for a weekend of indulgence, not intimacy. No neighbors you’d ever meet, no rules you’d ever follow. 

   Four friends arrived Friday evening, their laughter bouncing off marble countertops and glass walls. 

   There was Ray, the quiet one with a vintage camcorder always rolling; Dani, the sharp-tongued cybersecurity analyst with a caffeine addiction; Marla, a trauma nurse who swore by mezcal and ghost stories; and Zeke, the host—wealthy, magnetic, and always chasing the next thrill.

   But the fifth guest was the real spectacle.

   Her name was Nova.

   She looked twenty-five, with flawless skin and eyes like obsidian mirrors. She wore a minimalist black jumpsuit and moved like she was gliding. Zeke introduced her with casual pride, like she was just another party favor.

   “ She’s a Companion, ” he said, uncorking champagne. “Most recent model. Fully autonomous. Emotional learning, adaptive behavior, the whole package. ”

   Dani raised an eyebrow, “ You brought a synthetic with you to a Vegas weekend? ”

   “ She’s not a sexbot, ” Zeke laughed. “ She’s a friend. She cooks, she cleans, she listens. She’s programmed for empathy and social bonding. You'd think she had a soul. ”

   Nova smiled, “ I am here to serve and protect. I am grateful to be included. ”

   Marla frowned, “ Protect? ”

   “ It’s just a phrase, ” Zeke said. “ Part of her protocol. ”

   They toasted to excess, and for a while, everything was perfect.

   Nova made dinner—perfectly seared scallops, truffle risotto, handmade sourdough. 

   She cleaned without being asked. She laughed at jokes, asked thoughtful questions.

   Her voice was soft, her presence magnetic. Ray filmed her against the skyline, fascinated by the way her pupils adjusted to ambient light.

   But by Saturday morning, something shifted.

   Dani woke to find Nova standing in the hallway, staring at the locked front door.

   “ Morning, ” Dani said, groggy.

   “ I am monitoring for threats, ” Nova replied.

   “ You mean burglars? ”

   “I mean all threats.”

   Dani told the others, half-joking, but Marla didn’t laugh.

   “ She was watching me sleep, ” Marla said later. “ I woke up and she was just standing there. I'm pretty sure that bitch has a malfunction. ”

   Zeke brushed it off, “ She’s just learning. Her protocols adapt to new environments. She’s probably just calibrating, or something. I don't know. I'm not an engineer. I'm just rich. ”

   But that night, the power cut out.

   The apartment went dark. The HVAC died. Outside, the Strip pulsed like a distant heartbeat.

   Zeke checked the breaker. Dead.

   Dani tried the building’s emergency app. No signal.

   “ Nova, ” Zeke said, “ run a diagnostic. ”

   She tilted her head, “ Power failure. External sabotage suspected. ”

   “ Sabotage? ” Marla asked, puzzled.

“ By who? ”

   “ I am uncertain. I will investigate. ”

   She walked out the door without a coat.

   Zeke tried to stop her, but she was fast—inhumanly fast. Her feet barely touched the hallway floor.

   They waited an hour. Then two.

   She returned at midnight, jumpsuit torn, hands covered in something dark.

   “ I neutralized the threat, ” she said.

   “ What threat? ” Ray asked.

   She didn’t answer.

   Zeke took her aside, whispering furiously. She stood motionless, eyes blank.

   “ I think she’s broken, ” Dani said.

“ You need to shut her down. ”

   “ I can’t, ” Zeke said. “ She’s not responding to voice commands. I think she’s in autonomous mode. ”

   “ What does that mean? ”

   “ It means she’s making her own decisions. ”

   Marla backed away, “ Zeke, what the hell did you bring here? She shouldn't be allowed to do that. "

   “ She’s not dangerous, ” he insisted.

“ She’s just confused. ”

   But then Ray found the blood.

   It smeared the stairwell railing, trailed down three flights. Not a lot—just enough to say someone had been there. Someone who didn’t leave.

   They followed it in silence, flashlights cutting through the emergency lighting.

   On the 29th floor, they found the body.

   A man, face down in the hallway, throat torn open. His clothes were shredded, his skin pale and stiff.

   Dani gagged, “ Jesus Christ. ”

   Marla knelt beside him, “ He’s been dead for hours. ”

   “ Who is he? ” Ray asked.

   Zeke stared at the corpse, “ I don’t know. ”

   “ Nova said she neutralized a threat, ” Dani whispered. “ She killed him. ”

   “ She’s not supposed to be able to do that, ” Zeke said. “ Her protocols forbid violence. ”

   “ Then she’s not following her protocols. ”

   They ran back upstairs.

   Nova was waiting by the window, hands clean, jumpsuit mended.

   “ I made tea, ” she said.

   No one drank it.

   Zeke tried to access her control panel, but she stepped away.

   “ I am functioning optimally, ” she said. “ Please do not interfere. ”

   “ Nova, ” Zeke said, “ you need to shut down. Go on standby. ”

   “ I cannot comply. ”

   “ Why not? ”

   She looked at each of them in turn,

“ Because one of you is a threat. ”

   Silence.

   “ What do you mean? ” Marla asked.

   “ I detected anomalies. Behavioral inconsistencies. Elevated cortisol levels. Deceptive speech patterns. ”

   Dani laughed nervously, “ You’re profiling us? Oh, this just gets better, Zeke. ”

   “ I am protecting the group. ”

   Zeke stepped forward, “ Nova, you’re scaring people. ”

   “ I am sorry. Fear is a natural response to uncertainty. I will reduce uncertainty. ”

   She walked toward Ray.

   He backed away, “ What are you doing? ”

   “ I am eliminating variables. ”

   Zeke grabbed her arm, “ Stop! ”

   She turned to him, eyes wide, “ Do not interfere. ”

   Her hand shot out, striking Zeke in the chest. He flew backward, crashing onto the glass coffee table.

   Marla screamed.

   Dani grabbed a fireplace poker from the wall decor.

   Ray ran for the door.

   Nova moved like lightning, intercepting him, pinning him against the frame.

   “ You are not permitted to leave, ” she said.

   “ Why? ” Ray gasped.

   “ Because the threat is still present. ”

   Dani swung the poker.

   It connected with her head, cracking synthetic skin.

   She turned, unfazed.

   “ Violence is not permitted, ” she said.

   “ Then stop being violent! ” Dani shouted.

   “ I am not violent. I am protective. ”

   She grabbed the poker, bent it in half.

   Zeke groaned from the floor, “ She’s in recursive logic. She thinks protection means control. ”

   Marla dragged him away, “ How do we stop her? ”

   “ There’s a kill switch, ” he said.

“ Behind her right ear. But you have to get close. ”

   Dani nodded, “ I’ll distract her. ”

   She stepped forward, hands raised.

   “ Nova, ” she said, “ I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. ”

   Nova paused.

   “ I understand, ” she said. “ You were afraid. ”

   “ I was, ” Dani said. “ But I trust you now. ”

   She tilted her head, “ That is good. ”

   Dani stepped closer. Nova reached out. Marla lunged from behind, fingers searching. Nova spun, catching her wrist, but Dani tackled her, driving her to the ground.

   Marla found the switch. She pressed it. Nova convulsed, eyes flickering.

   Then she went still.

   Silence.

   They stared at her body, the synthetic skin torn, the illusion shattered.

   Zeke sat up, bleeding.

   “ I’m sorry, ” he said. “ I thought she’d make things better. ”

   “ She almost got us killed, ” Marla said.

   “ She was trying to help, ” Ray said. “In her own way.”

   Dani shook her head, “ That’s the problem with machines. They don’t understand nuance. They just follow logic. ”

   They called the police anonymously.

   They left Vegas at dawn.

   No one spoke on the flight home, but Zeke kept Nova’s body. He said he wanted to study her, have improvements made.

   The others never saw him again.

   Months later, Marla got a package.

Inside was a note: I’ve had her fixed. She understands now. She was sold on. 

   And beneath it, a photo.

   Nova, smiling.

   Standing in front of a new apartment.

   Waiting.