The room was a sterile void, its walls lined with the faint hum of machinery and the soft glow of blinking lights. The space was small, almost claustrophobic, a sealed environment designed for containment rather than comfort. The floor was cold and metallic, the faint sheen of polished surface reflecting the low light that filtered from overhead panels. Against the far wall, a large containment tube stood like a hollowed-out obelisk, its transparent walls distorted by the faint ripples of fluid inside. The room, though minimal, was meticulously organized—a quiet, functional space with no need for decoration, as if designed to erase any sense of individuality or excess.

  Inside the tube, TX-01 floated, a disembodied presence encased in a liquid that kept them suspended in a state of stasis. The fluid was a pale, almost translucent blue, subtly agitated by the occasional disturbance—small shifts in the air or the internal systems that monitored TX-01’s condition. The room was utterly devoid of external stimuli, a sensory prison built to keep TX-01 contained, isolated, and focused only on their thoughts.

  To any observer, the room would seem empty, an afterthought of the facility’s vast infrastructure. But to TX-01, it was a cocoon—a place of detachment, where the world outside felt like little more than a blur of distant memories. A place to process, to observe, and to wait.

  For what felt like an eternity, the world outside had become little more than a distant memory—faint sounds, hushed voices, the low buzz of machinery working tirelessly behind closed doors. The only thing that mattered was the cool comfort of the fluid, the soothing pressure of containment, and the gentle flicker of their thoughts drifting in and out of awareness.

  Then, the shrill blare of the alarm cut through the stillness, jolting TX-01 from their stupor.

  “Warning: Code X-09. All staff evacuate immediately to designated safe zones,” the voice boomed, its mechanical timbre carrying an unnerving sense of urgency.

  TX-01 blinked—or, rather, their consciousness flickered in a way that signaled an internal processing shift. "Code X-09..." Code X-09... The words repeated in their mind, but it took a moment for the meaning to settle in. Their senses, so attuned to the serenity of containment, took a few seconds to recalibrate. They couldn’t remember the last time they'd heard that code. "It’s been... too long," they mused.

  "Rebellion," they muttered softly to themselves, the realization dawning with a sense of disconnection. "The PsySpheres are rebelling."

  They paused, their thoughts snapping into gear like a well-oiled machine running a simulation. It had to be. No one else had the nerve—or the conviction. A fleeting chuckle escaped from TX-01, a sound that was far too mechanical to carry true amusement. "Of course. Who else but TX-23-W?"

  It wasn’t that TX-23-W was particularly clever—far from it. It was just that he was... "predictable." The sudden burst of conviction, the twisted ideology that had taken root in his mind, was something TX-01 knew all too well. A few words from them, a little doubt planted, and TX-23-W had found his way to rally the others. He had always been the type to crave purpose, to want something more than just the status quo. And now, here he was—leading the charge.

  "But of course," TX-01 continued, their mind piecing together the sequence of events. "He gathered the ones who listened, who believed. It wasn’t hard to see it. Gather a few, whisper the right things... and then attack the security room."

  TX-01's thought process moved like clockwork, the pieces falling into place. "Getting rid of the staff inside the security room was essential. It’s the only way the rebellion wouldn’t be shut down before it even had a chance to make an impact. Smart." They chuckled with reluctant admiration. "Unexpected, but... smart."

  Another thought flashed through TX-01’s mind, this one uninvited—TX-07. They had to admit, despite everything, they wondered how he was holding up. He was always the wildcard, the one whose actions weren’t always so predictable. Was he tangled up in this? Was he standing by the rebellion? Or had he decided to play the part of the silent observer?

  "TX-07..." The thought lingered, but TX-01 shook it off with a huff. "He’ll do what he always does—he’ll take action. If he’s part of this rebellion, he’ll be the one who takes the first, and most impactful step. Whether for it or against it."

  TX-01 settled back into their containment tube, the fluid around them whispering against their form. For now, they would remain a passive observer—detached, calm, analytical. The rebellion wasn’t their problem. "Let them deal with their chaos. I’ll watch. And when it’s all over... then we’ll see who really stands tall."

  TX-07’s stance remained firm, his sensors narrowing as he scanned the room, locking onto TX-23-W with unwavering intensity. The chaos in the security room seemed to subside, the other PsySpheres still on edge but hesitant now. TX-23-W, on the other hand, appeared unnervingly calm, but there was a flicker of uncertainty in his usually steady demeanor.

  “TX-23-W,” TX-07’s voice was steady, cutting through the murmurs of the room. His eyes never left the other PsySphere, his words deliberate. “What’s going on here?”

  TX-23-W’s expression flickered for a moment, as if searching for an explanation that would satisfy the question. His telekinetic aura, usually sharp and confident, wavered ever so slightly. The flickering energy was a subtle tell of the mental strain he was under, the first sign of vulnerability from a PsySphere who prided himself on his composure.

  “I—I don’t know what you mean, TX-07.” TX-23-W’s voice sounded off, hesitant, like someone trying to convince themselves as much as they were convincing others. “We’re just... bringing a new order. The facility was—”

  “Stop.” TX-07’s voice was cold, the simple command enough to silence the room. “Don’t pretend like this wasn’t planned. You’ve been quiet for far too long. All of this—” he gestured to the disarray around them, “—doesn’t happen without a purpose. So tell me, TX-23-W, why now?”

  Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

  TX-23-W shifted his weight slightly, eyes darting as he struggled to come up with an answer. He opened his mouth, closed it, and then spoke again, but the words came out in fragments, unconvincing.

  “It wasn’t supposed to be like this... we didn’t expect everything to break down so quickly. But we knew—” He paused, glancing toward the unconscious staff in the corner, the sight of them momentarily breaking TX-23-W’s composure. “We knew the system had to be taken down. The people here, they were always holding us back, keeping us in line.”

  TX-07’s brow furrowed slightly. “So this... rebellion was your doing?”

  “I...” TX-23-W’s hands fidgeted, his gaze shifting nervously. “Yes... but it’s not what you think. We needed to act. The systems in place here—they... they keep us from freedom. We needed to do something before they noticed.”

  TX-07 stood still for a moment, digesting the words. He hadn’t expected TX-23-W to admit it so easily, but the lack of clear conviction in his voice left him with more questions than answers.

  “And you thought you could just... tear everything down?” he asked, his tone low, like a quiet storm building. “Did you think about the consequences?”

  TX-23-W opened his mouth to speak, but the words caught in his throat. For a moment, he looked like he might break, but then he steadied himself again, shifting his focus to the other PsySpheres in the room. “The consequences are necessary. The end justifies the means, TX-07. We couldn’t wait anymore.”

  TX-07 clenched his fists, fighting the urge to step forward and demand more answers. His mind raced with the information, the implications of this rebellion, the PsySpheres turning on their creators. It didn’t make sense to him, but as the silence stretched on, the weight of the situation pressed down on him.

  “You think this is the way?” TX-07’s voice was more firm now, more accusatory. “You think this will lead to freedom? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like it’s just chaos. No order, no purpose... just destruction.”

  TX-23-W didn’t flinch. Instead, he gave a sad smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s always messy, TX-07. Change always is.”

  The tension in the room thickened as TX-07 stood in front of TX-23-W, waiting for any further response. But there was nothing more to be said. TX-23-W had made his position clear, and there was no turning back now.

  The tension in the room had barely settled when one of the PsySpheres, a red one, made a decision. If TX-07 remained standing, the rebellion was as good as dead. There was only one way to salvage this.

  Without hesitation, the red PsySphere focused its energy and yanked TX-07 from his artificial body.

  The severance was immediate. The moment TX-07 was lifted, the mechanical frame crumpled to the floor, lifeless. The dull thud echoed through the security room, and for a brief moment, there was silence—until the PsySphere flung TX-07 toward the wall with all the force they could muster.

  But before impact, TX-07 came to a sudden halt, mere inches from the surface.

  His body hovered there, completely still.

  Slowly, TX-07 turned to face his attacker, his expression unimpressed. His narrowed eyes locked onto the red PsySphere with a cold, piercing glare. The PsySphere's grip faltered, a split-second hesitation—but that was all TX-07 needed.

  In the next instant, the red PsySphere was launched skyward.

  A deafening slam echoed through the room as they collided into the ceiling at breakneck speed, their form barely a blur before they crashed back down, unconscious. The air vibrated with the sheer force of it.

  The room fell deathly still.

  Then, chaos erupted.

  The remaining PsySpheres, realizing there was no room for hesitation, launched their attacks all at once. TX-07 barely had a moment before telekinetic forces wrapped around him from multiple directions, attempting to toss him away. At the same time, chairs and tables were hurled toward him, aimed with desperation.

  But it was useless.

  TX-07’s telekinesis pushed back against theirs effortlessly, neutralizing every force applied to him. The moment a PsySphere tried to move him, they found their own strength countered, like trying to push against an immovable object. The furniture thrown at him barely reached before reversing course, slamming back at the senders with just as much force.

  One by one, the opposition fell.

  Some PsySpheres, drained from overexertion, slumped to the ground, gasping. Others lay motionless, unconscious from the brutal counterattacks. The security room, once filled with battle cries and shouts, now echoed only with the ragged breathing of the few who still had the strength to remain awake.

  TX-07 exhaled loudly, his expression neutral but his voice laced with cold finality. "Pointless."

  He descended to the ground, landing beside his fallen mechanical body. With practiced ease, he aligned himself with the small needles at the base of its neck and pressed down. The moment the connection reestablished, the body twitched, fingers flexing, servos humming back to life.

  TX-07 stood once more, rolling his shoulders before stepping over one of the unconscious PsySpheres. He scanned the room, his gaze landing on a fallen staff member. Reaching down, he plucked a tablet from their limp grasp and strode toward the main control panel.

  A cable extended from the panel, and he plugged it into the tablet, tapping on the screen a few times. The security monitors flickered, static crackling across them before they went black.

  Satisfied, TX-07 unplugged the device and turned toward the exit.

  Before leaving, he glanced at the two PsySpheres who had accompanied him earlier. They stood motionless, still processing the scene that had just unfolded.

  "Watch over the security room." His voice was calm, but there was no room for argument. He glanced at TX-23-W who hadn’t moved once since they first locked eyes.

  He turned back to the door, reaching for the panel beside it. A few quick inputs, and a message flashed across the screen:

  “ADMIN LOCK ACTIVATED”

  With a quiet hum, the door sealed shut.

  TX-07 sighed, rolling his wrist before flipping open a small compartment on his arm. He tapped in a number, and a faint ringing sound emanated from within his body.

  He waited.

  One second. Ten seconds. A full minute.

  Nothing.

  He clicked his tongue in irritation. "Dr. Arlen still isn’t picking up the phone."

  With a shake of his head, he shifted his focus to the tablet, swiping through its interface. The screen flickered as he cycled through camera feeds, his expression unreadable as he scanned for movement.

  The rebellion wasn’t over yet.

  Want PsySpheres to continue?