Elias looked down at his hand. He tried to make a fist, but there was a micro-second of lag—a stutter in the synapse. Was it a glitch, or was he being over-ridden?
He left the diner and walked until the city lights faded into the industrial outskirts. He found a piece of jagged scrap metal and held it against his forearm. He pressed down. Meat Puppet
No pain. Just a notification in his peripheral vision: [WARNING: Structural Integrity Compromised. Self-repair initiated.] Elias looked down at his hand
The man smirked, his eyes scanning Elias’s unblemished skin. "Sure. But who’s pulling the strings? You, or the firmware updates? I heard the company can 'pause' you if you miss a payment." He left the diner and walked until the
Elias realized then that the "Second Chance" wasn't for him. It was for the body. He was just the processor, the temporary ghost kept in the machine to give it a name and a bank account. He looked up at the stars, wondering if the real Elias had died in that factory after all, leaving only this meat puppet to mimic his walk and echo his voice until the battery finally ran dry.
"Like I’m piloting a ship from the captain’s chair," Elias muttered.
"The integration is 99% complete," the technician said, tapping a tablet. "How does the motor function feel?"