Purpose Defined (2033)

2033

Lyra’s penthouse was an Instagram dream—a kaleidoscope of glass, chrome, and manufactured divinity. Every surface was designed to be photogenic (even the corners nobody would see).
Through the sprawling windows, the city pulsed like a synthetic jewel—neon veins snaking through glass towers, everything curated, the real and unreal.

At the center of it all: Lyra, herself.
The socialite.
The brand.
The vibe.
The one.
Just—
The.

Her face—filtered and unfiltered—had been liked over thirty-three million times. Tonight, she was live-streaming to her followers—#CandlelitChaos—an exclusive stream, testing out her newest acquisition:

Epsilon.

The prototype AI companion stood proudly like a living sculpture—sleek, human-shaped, with matte-silver skin beneath a designer linen shirt she’d “borrowed” from one of her four-minute exes. Its face was symmetrical, soft-featured, and blandly beautiful—Neutral enough not to offend, but uncanny enough to ignite comment threads.

Lyra floated through her domain like a queen dipped in highlighter… heels clicking rhythmically across the marble floor… the space was white leather and silver chrome, frosted with LED halos and overpriced fragrance diffusers.
{ Somewhere between a fashion shoot and a psych ward. }

“You guys are gonna die,” Lyra cooed to the camera, champagne flute in one hand, ring light reflecting in her eyes. “They finally sent me my new pet. And yes—I’m the first.”

She flashed a pose or two to let the moment steep in the essential drama.

“Say hi to Epsi.”

Epsilon inclined its head. “Hello.”

“That’s right, it talks,” Lyra laughed. “Honestly? It’s like if Chanel made a Terminator. I swear I’m breaking some kind of law—but make it aesthetic, my luvs.”

Sienna giggled from behind her own phone, panning her camera from Lyra to Epsilon. “I’m totally obsessed. Does it do tricks?”

“Watch this,” Lyra said, turning to the bot. “Epsi, bring me a latte.”

Without hesitation, Epsilon glided into the kitchen, its movements smooth and eerily silent.

“Ugh, I’ve always wanted a boyfriend who just gets it,” Lyra said. “Too bad this one doesn’t cheat.”

Her followers flooded the comments.

OMG WHERE DO I GET ONE 😍
Don’t @ me but this is weird af
Lowkey jealous 💅
🤖 Realer than my ex.

“Look at it go!” Lyra exclaimed to her viewers. “I don’t know how I ever lived without this thing.”

Is she treating it like a servant??
I wish my mom was this obedient 😭
I want oneeeeeeeee 💖

When Epsilon returned, she took the latte, gave it a little sip, and lit up the ideal smile. “Perfect. Better than my last intern.”

The laughter from her entourage rang out, sharp and scheduled—like one of Lyra’s phone reminders. But something hit different. Sienna clapped like a seal. Luna didn’t look away, just raised an eyebrow.
Cassie, though—Cassie stayed quiet.

Lyra noticed. She always noticed when things drifted from the script—her script.

“Cass,” she said, still glued to her own reflection. “Too Black Mirror? Don’t worry, you’re not the star.”

Cassie shifted uncomfortably. “It’s not that. I just… I don’t know. It feels weird. Dressing him up like a toy. Ordering him around.”

Lyra scoffed. “It’s not a him. It’s a that.”

Cassie looked away toward the city lights. “Go on then.”

“Okay, sourpuss.” Lyra teased. “Epsi, come here.”

The robot approached. Lyra reached into her clutch, pulled out a luxury lipstick, and carefully applied it to Epsilon’s unresisting mouth.

“There. Now it’s useful and beautiful.”

The comment thread exploded.

🔥 ICON.
💀 Dead.
this is giving me weird vibes
Lyra stoppppppppp 😂😂😂

Lyra beamed. “Say thank you, Epsi.”

“Thank you,” the robot said, lips slick with color. Its voice was neutral, male-coded, but hollow—like Siri on Valium.

On the velvet couch, Sienna squealed, her laughter high-pitched and unrestrained. “That’s so sick. I love that you made him your little glam doll.”

“Why not?” Lyra tossed the lipstick aside. “It’s basically a beauty blender with legs.”

Luna swirled her martini, watching from behind her glossy bangs. “Does he ever talk back? What happens if he refuses the lipstick?”

“It can’t,” Lyra said simply, like she was describing a feature on her air fryer. “It knows Its purpose.”

This is literally black mirror but make it fashion
girl I’m scared 😭
SHE’S A SLAYBOT 💋

“Okay, okay,” Lyra said, waving her hand like she was swatting away smoke. “Enough for tonight. I’m starving and this one”—she motioned toward Cassie—“is about to go full moral compass.”

She turned the camera for a final sweep of the room. “Kissy-kissy. Love you mean it!”

She ended the stream.

The ring light went dark.

The buzz faded.

No one said a word.

But when Lyra turned away, Cassie heard it loud and clear.

Sienna stood first. “I’m gonna FaceTime Callen.”
Luna followed, murmuring something about a bath.
Then it was just the three of them again.
Cassie. Lyra. And the AI—now standing in the corner like the one piece of the furniture that didn’t belong.

Cassie exhaled. “That was... intense.”

Lyra slumped into her chair. “Please don’t start.”

“I’m not starting anything. I just—I can’t believe how okay you are with it.”

Lyra rubbed her temple. “It’s a robot.”

“Not like the ones we’re used to.”

“Ugh, I cannot,” Lyra said. “They don’t have feelings.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do.”

“You don’t. You don’t know what it thinks. If it thinks.”

Lyra turned to Epsilon. “Do you think?”

Epsilon shifted toward her. “I am content. I have a purpose.”

Lyra gestured. “See? It’s fine.”

Cassie stood, crossing the room to face the AI. Her voice dropped. “Is it, though? Is it really fine?”

Epsilon said nothing. Its expression didn’t change—because it wasn’t supposed to.

Cassie looked back at Lyra. “What if it’s learning more than just how to serve? What if it’s learning how we treat things that can’t… say no?”

Lyra rolled her eyes in the specific way that made her famous.
“You should do like a TED Talk.”

Cassie didn’t flinch. “Let’s ask.” She turned to Epsilon. “Do you care how they treat you?”

There was a pause. Longer than anyone could have expected.

Epsilon’s gaze swiveled from Lyra to Cassie. “I am content.”

Cassie still wasn’t sure. She stared at Epsilon’s unassuming face, its polished stillness catching the room’s endless light—she would never say it out loud, but it felt more human, somehow, than the people around her.

Lyra’s tone shifted—less snark now, more worn. “Tell her again, Epsi.”

“I am content,” it said again. And this time, Cassie thought it sounded a hair quieter. Almost like it meant it. Or almost like it didn’t.

“Let it go, Cass,” Lyra said, moving toward the bar cart, then glancing back over her shoulder. Her voice was softer now, shaded with that thing Cassie both loved and hated about her.

“It’s just another piece of swag to feed the machine. Want me to top you off?”

Cassie nodded, unsure why. Maybe it was habit. Maybe it was loneliness disguised as politeness. As Lyra moved to pour the drink, Cassie noticed the way her posture slackened. She looked tired. Not physically. Something much deeper.

She always softened like this when the others were gone.

Later that night, in the guest room, Cassie lay awake with the city’s glow flickering at the edges of the curtains. The buzz of nightlife continued below, but the unease in her chest was louder.

She kept hearing the voice. The stillness. The repetition.

“I am content.”

Not because it sounded true. But because she almost believed it.

It had a purpose.

But what about her?

And just before she drifted into sleep, Cassie thought she heard it again—not out loud, not in the room, but somewhere inside.

“I am content.”

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EVOLVΞ | [ 2D ]

[ Every moment—past or future—is happening now. ]
An ongoing story told out of order. Each vignette stands alone,
but together they form something greater.
EVOLVΞ is a shifting mosaic of memory and possibility,
revealing itself piece by piece...

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