“It does not seem as if they have noticed us yet,” Gilbert keeps his voice hushed, and as low as it can possibly go. “My system is telling me that our chances of survival are much higher if we attempt our escape now, rather than by waiting for them to leave on their own. On our way to the exit, we also have the possibility to retrieve at least some of the parts needed to complete our investigation. Sir, what is your decision? Shall we proceed?”

My throat goes dry. I don’t want to say yes—I really don’t.

But I do.

Gilbert’s right. Staying here, in wait of being murdered by God only knows what, is a terrible plan. We need to get to that exit. Fast. And if he is truly sure that investigating this place could give us a lead to Fletcher’s location, and eventually, to the other victims that have disappeared over these past few years as well, it wouldn’t be right for me to run away. Not when this could fix every single case that’s gone unresolved so far. “Okay,” I mutter under my breath as I grab his hand and give it a squeeze. “Let’s go, asshole. But you better not get me killed. I still have people to help once we get out of this mess.”

For some reason, Gilbert squeezes back. “Worry not,” he whispers, once the shadow has left. “I have memorized the entire map of this place. We shall be out soon—you have my word.”

Soon… I frown. Somehow, I doubt that.

We advance towards the next corridor, and the first set of steps. I can’t help but feel someone’s gaze on my back even though there isn’t a noise to be heard in the darkness.

Judging from our current location—and what I saw in the lobby earlier on—the museum’s general design was likely pretty neat in its glory days, and resembled something out of an old science fiction movie. The walls remind me of the pictures mom used to collect, that mostly contained ancient rockets as their subject.

Aside from that though, the rest of our environment is absolutely dreadful. There are literally hundreds and hundreds of obsolete Android models that are arrayed across the entirety of this second floor. It starts with the first one that stemmed from the passion project of two teens who won an award for unknowingly creating mindless killing machines, and it ends at the latest prototype that was released right before humanity was divided into two separate classes—the fortunate, and the useless.

Gilbert follows close behind me, until he reaches my side. “Is everything all right, Sir?” he says. “Your heart-rate seems a tad troubled.”

“No kidding,” I shove my hands into my pockets. I take another step forward. “I’m stuck in a museum full of Androids with you, and you’re also an Android!” Yeah, that, plus my fear of storms and the dark mixed together, courtesy of my childhood trauma—but I’m not going to tell him that. He doesn’t need to know. “How the heck do you think anyone could stay calm in such a shitty situation, this is—”

A rat runs past my feet. I take a step back and yelp, as I stumble over an old rug. “What the fu—!”

My head hits something hard. Rigid. Worry clouds my mind. Because that something wasn’t there before. It’s moving, stepping toward me, while I slip and fall to the floor. It’s—