EXPIRATION DATE

You won't abandon me? - she asked.

I will never abandon you, - he replied. - I promise.

They reached the door leading to the Gray Zones. Elias opened it. Beyond was a tunnel. Dark, narrow, endless. It led to freedom.

Go, - he said, pointing at the tunnel. - Go. There you will be free.

Sophia looked at him. Tears in her eyes.

And you? - she asked. - Won't you come with me?

I can't, - he said. - I have work. I have a duty. But I will remember you. Always.

She took his hand and squeezed it.

You are human, - she said. - The most human person I have ever met.

She turned and stepped into the tunnel. Elias watched her go. Her small figure gradually dissolved into the darkness.

"I did it," he thought. "I saved her. I was human."

He stood and watched until she disappeared. Then he turned and walked back. To his work. To his death. To his fate.

Elias returned to his office. He was tired, broken, but inside him burned a spark - small, weak, but alive. He had saved Sophia. He had done it. He was human.

He sat at his desk and opened the terminal. The screen lit up, showing his work panel. Everything looked normal - reports, receipts, system notifications. But he knew the calm was an illusion. Knew the system saw everything. Knew his violation could not have gone unnoticed.

He opened the disposal report and began reviewing the records. Everything looked correct - names, dates, causes of death. Sophia was marked as "disposed." He checked again. Yes, everything looked right. He reread the entry: "Clone No. 13. Name: Sophia. Expiration date: expired. Reason for disposal: biological wear. Status: disposed." He breathed a sigh of relief. Everything was in order.

But in that moment, as he was about to close the file, the terminal made a sound - short, sharp, piercing. A red notification flashed on the screen: "ATTENTION! DISCREPANCY DETECTED IN REPORT. AUDIT INITIATED."

Elias froze. His heart skipped a beat. Vzh-vzh-vzh. The sound he hated. But now it sounded like a warning. Like a reminder that he was in danger.

"No," he thought. "No, no, no. Not now. Not now."

He stood and began pacing the office. He had to do something. Had to fix the error. Had to protect Sophia.

"What did I do wrong?" he thought. "I checked everything. I double-checked. Everything should have been correct. Why did the system notice?"

He sat back at the desk and opened the file. He began reviewing every entry, every word, every number. And then he saw it. A small detail he had missed. In Sophia's record, the disposal time was listed as 14:32. But the system log showed he was in another part of the building at 14:32. A discrepancy. Small, but enough for the system to notice.

"Damn," he thought. "Damn, damn, damn. How could I miss that?"

He knew this was the end. Knew the system would not forgive this mistake. Knew his PC would fall. Knew his heart could be shut off. But he did not regret it. He had saved Sophia. He had been human.

"I will pay for this," he thought. "I will pay for my mistake. But I don't regret it. I saved a child. I was human."

He closed the terminal and leaned back in his chair. He felt his body begin to tremble. Felt fear overtake him. But he did not give up. He had to fight. He had to find a way out.

"I won't give up," he thought. "I will fight. I will prove I am human."

He stood and walked toward the door. He had to find J.S. Had to explain. Had to defend himself. Had to protect Sophia.

"I will do it," he thought. "I will protect her. I will protect myself. I will be human."

Elias left his office and headed for the elevator. He had to find J.S. Had to explain the situation. Had to defend himself.

The elevator rose to the head of department's level. Elias stepped into the corridor and walked toward the glass door of the office. He knocked.

Enter, - came a voice from inside.

Elias opened the door and entered. J.S. sat behind his glass desk, looking at his terminal screen. His face was cold, indifferent. When he saw Elias, he looked up.

Hall, - he said. - I've been expecting you.

Sir, - Elias said, trying to keep his voice steady. - I want to explain. There was an error in the report. I'll fix it.

J.S. smirked. His smirk was cold, ruthless.

An error? - he repeated. - You call this an error? You changed a clone's record. You hid a disposal. You violated protocol. This is not an error, Hall. This is treason.

I'm not a traitor, - Elias said. - I just wanted to save her. She was a child. She didn't want to die.

You broke the rules, - J.S. said. - You know what that means. You know it could cost you your life.

I know, - Elias replied. - I'm ready to face the consequences. But I don't regret what I did.

J.S. looked at him for a long time, studying his face, his eyes, his voice. Then he slowly nodded.

You're stupid, Hall, - he said. - You've always been stupid. But I appreciate your honesty. That's rare in our world.

He picked up a tablet and looked at the screen.

You'll get a warning, - he said. - Your PC will drop by three percent. You'll be transferred to a lower level. But you'll keep your job. For now.

Elias looked at him. He could not believe his ears. He had expected to be fired. Expected his heart to be shut off. But he only received a warning.

Why? - he asked. - Why not punish me more severely?

J.S. smirked.

Because you're useful, Hall, - he said. - You do your job. You do it well. Despite your weakness, you are efficient. I don't want to lose an efficient employee.

He stood from the desk and walked to the window. The city stretched before him - gray, cold, lifeless.

But remember, Hall, - he said without turning. - If you break the rules again, I won't be so lenient. You will become consumable material. And your heart will be shut off. Understood?

Yes, sir, - Elias replied. - Understood.

Good, - J.S. said. - Now go. You're needed in sector D-7. Work awaits you.

Elias turned and left the office. He stood in the corridor, feeling his heart beat faster. He had received a warning. He had received a chance. He had to use it.

"I won't make this mistake again," he thought. "I'll be more careful. I'll protect her. I'll protect myself."

Elias returned to his office. He sat at his desk and opened the terminal. On the screen was a notification: "Your Purity Coefficient has been reduced by 3% due to protocol violation. Current PC: 62% (critical level: 65%). Recommended: immediately take measures to increase PC. Failure to follow recommendations within 48 hours will result in automatic reclassification to category 'Consumable Material.'"

Elias looked at these words and felt his heart clench. Sixty-two percent. Below critical level. He had become consumable material. He had become like those he killed.

"I did it," he thought. "I became consumable material. I became like them. Now they will come for me. Now they will kill me."

He closed the terminal and leaned back in his chair. He felt fear and despair overtake him. He did not know what to do. Did not know how to save himself. Did not know how to be human.

"I don't want to die," he thought. "I don't want to die in the disposer. I want to live. I want to be free."

But he knew it was impossible. Knew the system did not forgive violations. Knew his time was running out. But he did not give up. He had to fight. He had to find a way out.

"I won't give up," he thought. "I will fight. I will prove I am human."

He stood and walked to the window. The city stretched before him - gray, cold, lifeless. Corporate holograms shone on walls. Drones patrolled streets. Below, people hurried to work - assets like him. But he was no longer one of them. He was different. He was consumable material.

"I won't go back to them," he thought. "I can't. I must move forward. I must fight. I must be human."

He turned from the window and looked at the terminal. The notification about the PC reduction still showed. He knew this was only the beginning. Knew the system would not forgive his actions. But he was not afraid. He was ready.

"I accept this," he thought. "I accept the punishment. I accept my fate. I will fight. I will be human."

Elias sat in his office, staring at the wall. He felt fear overtake him. Fear of becoming consumable material. Fear of his heart being shut off. Fear of dying alone, like everyone else.

"I don't want to die," he thought. "I don't want to die in the disposer. I want to live. I want to be free. I want to be human."

He stood and began pacing the office. He had to do something. Had to find a way to raise his PC. Had to prove to the system he was useful. Had to survive.

"I can do it," he thought. "I can raise my PC. I can prove to the system I'm useful. I can survive."

He sat at his desk and opened the terminal. He began searching for ways to raise his PC. Read articles, instructions, recommendations. Learned what he needed to do - work more efficiently, avoid stress, be loyal to the corporation. But he knew it was impossible. He could not be loyal. Could not be efficient. He was human.

"I can't do it," he thought. "I can't be an asset. I can't kill people. I can't be part of this system."

He closed the terminal and leaned back in his chair. He felt despair overtake him. He did not know what to do. Did not know how to survive. Did not know how to be human.

"I will die," he thought. "I will die in the disposer. Like everyone else. I will die alone. And no one will remember me."

But deep down, he knew this was not true. He had saved Sophia. He had saved Ivan. He had saved many. They would remember him. They would live. And that was more important than his life.

"I don't regret it," he thought. "I saved them. I was human. That is all that matters."

Elias sat in his office, staring at the wall. He felt fear and despair leave him. He accepted his fate. Accepted he would die. Accepted he had become consumable material. But he did not regret it. He had made the right choice. He had been human.

"I will die," he thought. "But I will die knowing I made the right choice. I will die knowing I was human. That is all that matters."

He stood and walked to the window. The city stretched before him - gray, cold, lifeless. But he was no longer part of this city. He was free. He was human.

"I won't go back to them," he thought. "I can't. I must move forward. I must fight. I must be human."

He turned and looked at the terminal. The notification about the PC reduction still showed. But he was no longer afraid. He had accepted his fate. Accepted his death. He was ready.

"I will do it," he thought. "I will leave with honor. I will die human. And that will be my victory."

He left the office and headed for the elevator. He knew what he had to do. He had to find Sophia. Had to make sure she was safe. Had to protect her. He had to be human.

"I will do it," he thought. "I will protect her. I will protect myself. I will be human."

He entered the elevator and pressed the button for the lower level. The elevator began to descend. Elias stood motionless, looking at his reflection in the metal wall. He saw a human. Tired, frightened, but full of determination. A human who would not give up. A human who would fight. A human who was free.

"I will do it," he thought. "I will do it. I will be human."

The elevator stopped. Doors opened, and he stepped into the dark corridor. He walked toward where he had hidden Sophia. He had to find her. Had to make sure she was safe.

"I'm coming for you, Sophia," he thought. "I came back. I didn't abandon you."

He approached the trash container and opened the lid. Sophia was there. She sat huddled in a ball, looking at him with hope.

You came back, - she said.

I came back, - he replied. - I promised.

He helped her out. She was dirty, frightened, but alive.

We must go, - he said. - We must leave before they find us.

They walked along the corridor. Sophia held his hand. Her hand was cold but warm inside. He felt her trust, her hope.

You won't abandon me? - she asked.

I will never abandon you, - he replied. - I promise.

They reached the door leading to the Gray Zones. Elias opened it. Beyond was a tunnel. Dark, narrow, endless. It led to freedom.

Go, - he said, pointing at the tunnel. - Go. There you will be free.

Sophia looked at him. Tears in her eyes.

And you? - she asked. - Won't you come with me?

I can't, - he said. - I have work. I have a duty. But I will remember you. Always.

She took his hand and squeezed it.

You are human, - she said. - The most human person I have ever met.

She turned and stepped into the tunnel. Elias watched her go. Her small figure gradually dissolved into the darkness.

"I did it," he thought. "I saved her. I was human."

The workday ended. Elias left the corporate building and stopped on the street. New Tokyo-3 was sinking into artificial evening - holograms grew brighter, the sky darkened, though the sun had long been hidden by layers of synthesized smog. Drones continued to patrol the streets, their red lights flickering in the darkness like predators' eyes scanning for prey.

Elias stood motionless, staring at the gray walls of buildings, at endless rows of windows behind which lived assets like him. He felt his body ache after the long day. Muscles hurt, eyes burned, his heart continued its monotonous rhythm. Vzh-vzh-vzh. The sound he hated. But now it sounded like a reminder that he was still alive. That he could still feel. That he was still human.

"I don't want to go back to my capsule," he thought. "I don't want to lie in that white coffin and wait for morning. I want to be among people. I want to forget. I want to be normal."

He knew where to find oblivion. The bar for defectives. An underground place where people like him gathered - purgers, correctors, all those who did the system's dirty work. A place where you could drink synthesized alcohol, laugh at dark jokes, and forget for a while who you really were.

He turned and walked along the street. His steps were slow, heavy, but he walked. He knew the way. He had been there many times. The bar was in the basement of an old building, in a district the system barely controlled. Drones did not reach there. Cameras did not reach there. There you could be yourself.

He turned into a dark alley where there were no holograms, no advertising, only dirty walls and broken asphalt. The air here was different - not synthesized, but real, with the smell of dampness and dirt. He breathed this smell and smiled. It was the smell of freedom. The smell of life.

He reached an old metal door covered in layers of rust. There was no sign, no number on the door. Only a small peephole through which he was checked. He knocked three times - short, sharp, as taught. The peephole opened, and someone's eyes looked at him.

Password? - came a hoarse voice.

Expired expiration date, - Elias replied.

The peephole closed. The sound of locks being opened - heavy, metal, capable of holding anyone who tried to enter without invitation. The door opened, letting in warm light and the sounds of music.

Come in, - said the guard - a tall man with a mechanical arm and a scar on his face. - You're just in time. It'll be fun tonight.

Elias nodded and stepped inside.

The bar was in the basement of an old building. A large room with a low ceiling from which old pipes and wires protruded. The walls were shabby, with peeling paint that had once been white. In the corners hung dim lamps, providing enough light to see faces but not enough to see details.

Here it smelled of synthesized alcohol, sweat, and something else - the smell of freedom that could only be found in such places. Here gathered people like him - purgers, correctors, defectives, consumables who had not yet been written off. They sat at tables, drank, laughed, talked about work. About what they did. About how they hated their lives.

Elias walked to the bar - an old wooden counter someone had once made from planks. Behind the counter stood a woman with bright red hair and tattoos on her arms. She was one of the few who was not afraid of the system. She was free.

Hall, - she said, smiling. - You're late today. Work kept you?

Hey, Rita, - he replied, sitting on a tall stool. - As always. Twelve defects in sector D-7.

Twelve? - she repeated, raising an eyebrow. - That's a lot. Did you handle it?

Almost, - he said. - A few got away.

She poured him a glass of clear liquid. Synthesized whiskey. He took the glass and took a sip. The liquid burned his throat, but he felt no pain. He was used to it.

You look tired, - Rita said. - More than usual. What happened?

Elias took another sip. He did not know if he wanted to talk. But he knew Rita was the only one who could understand. She was like him. She was consumable material.

I saved a child, - he said quietly. - A girl. She was a clone. Her expiration date had passed. I hid her. I marked her as disposed.

Rita looked at him. Something like respect flickered in her eyes.

You took a risk, - she said. - You risked your life.

I know, - he replied. - But I couldn't kill her. She was a child. She wanted to live.

You are human, - she said. - One of the few who still are.

She poured him another glass. Elias took it and drank it in one gulp.

"I am human," he thought. "I am still human. That is all that matters."

He turned and looked at the room. People sat at tables, drank, laughed, talked. They were like him. They were defectives. They were consumable material. But they were free. At least here. At least for a moment.

Elias sat at the bar, sipping synthesized whiskey, listening to the conversations around him. Here, in the bar, people talked about what they never talked about at work. They joked about death, about the system, about their own lives. It was their way of coping. Their way of staying human.

At the next table sat three purgers - a man and two women. They laughed at something, and their laughter was loud, genuine, real.

And so, - the man said, waving his arms, - she looks at me and says: "Are you sure this is the right clone?" And I say: "Honey, if I knew which clone was right, I wouldn't be a purger. I'd be in the green zone."

The women laughed. One shook her head.

You're terrible, - she said. - You talk about death like it's a joke.

What else is there? - he replied, his smile turning bitter. - If I don't laugh, I'll cry. And you can't cry here. The system doesn't like tears.

Elias listened and felt his lips curl into a smile. Dark, tired, but genuine. They were right. If you don't laugh, there's only crying. And you can't cry here.

Did you hear the news? - said another man, approaching their table. - They say Genesis is launching a new batch of clones. Expiration date - ten years. Can you imagine? Ten years! We work eight, and they're already making them with ten-year terms.

So what? - asked one of the women. - They'll live longer than us?

They'll live longer than us, - the man replied. - We're old models. We're consumable material. They're the future.

Then let's drink to our past, - the woman said, raising her glass. - To us still being alive.

To us still being alive! - the others repeated.

Elias raised his glass and joined the toast. The liquid burned his throat, but he felt warmth spreading through his body. Warmth that reminded him he was alive. That he felt. That he was human.

"We will all die," he thought. "But while we're alive, we can laugh. We can drink. We can be human. That is all that matters."

Suddenly, conversations at the next table fell silent. Elias turned his head and saw a new man approaching the table. An old man with a gray beard and deep wrinkles on his face. His eyes were sharp, attentive, like a man who had seen much.

Did you hear the news? - he said, lowering his voice. - About Kane-39.

Everyone at the table fell silent. Elias felt his heart beat faster. Kane-39. The same name as in the news. The same number as on the capsule of the twelfth clone. He knew he had to listen. Knew it was important.

What about him? - asked one of the purgers.

He escaped, - the old man said. - He escaped with the boss's granddaughter. Iris Vos. They're together. They love each other.

A clone and a human? - the woman repeated. - That's impossible. That's a violation of the Purity Coefficient.

It's true, - the old man said. - I heard it from someone who works at Genesis. Kane-39 and Iris Vos kissed under the cameras. They disabled the system for five minutes. Five minutes, can you imagine? They risked everything for five minutes.

Why would they need that? - the man asked.

Because they love each other, - the old man replied. - Because they want to be together. Because they want to be free.

Elias listened and felt his heart beat faster. Vzh-vzh-vzh. The sound he hated. But now it sounded different. It sounded like a reminder that he felt. That he believed. That he hoped.

"Kane-39," he thought. "Iris Vos. They risked everything for love. They did what I cannot do. But I want to do it. I want to be free. I want to be human."

Who are they? - he asked, turning to the old man. - Tell me about them.

The old man looked at him. Something like understanding in his eyes.

They are hope, - he said. - They prove that even in this world you can love. That even in this world you can be human. They are proof that the system is not all-powerful.

Elias looked at him. He felt his heart fill with something warm. Hope.

"I will find them," he thought. "I will find Kane-39 and Iris Vos. I will help them. I will prove I am human."

Elias sat at the bar, staring at his empty glass. Conversations around him faded, music played softly. He felt the alcohol begin to work, making his thoughts clearer. He knew he had to make a decision. Had to decide who he was - asset or human.

"I can't go back to how it was," he thought. "I can't kill people again. I must fight. I must be human."

He raised his head and looked at Rita. She stood behind the counter, wiping glasses, but her eyes were on him.

You've decided something, - she said. - I can see it in your eyes.

Yes, - he replied. - I've decided. I won't kill anymore. I will fight. I will save. I will be human.

You know this could cost you your life? - she asked.

I know, - he replied. - But I'm ready. I'm ready to die, but I will die human.

She smiled. Her smile was warm, genuine.

You are a good person, Hall, - she said. - You're making the right choice.

He stood and placed a few credits on the counter.

I will find them, - he said. - I will find Kane-39 and Iris Vos. I will help them. This is my path.

He turned and walked toward the exit. His steps were confident, firm. He knew what he was doing. Knew it was right.

"I will do it," he thought. "I will find them. I will help them. I will prove I am human."

Elias left the bar and stopped on the dark street. The night air was cold, but he barely felt the cold. The alcohol warmed him from within, and thoughts of Kane-39 and Iris Vos ignited something warm in his chest. Hope. He stood motionless, looking at the gray sky, and replayed everything he had heard in the bar.

"Kane-39," he thought. "The perfect clone-soldier. The thirty-ninth attempt to create the perfect weapon. The previous thirty-eight died or were destroyed. He was supposed to be the perfect asset. Unquestioning. Emotionless. Efficient. But he escaped. He escaped with the boss's granddaughter. He fell in love. He broke all the rules."

Elias felt his heart beat faster. Vzh-vzh-vzh. The sound he hated. But now it sounded different. Like a drum roll heralding something important.

"He escaped," Elias continued thinking. "He risked everything for love. He did what I cannot do. He chose freedom. He chose life. He chose to be human, even if the system says he's just a weapon."

He walked along the street, not knowing where he was going. His legs carried him forward on their own, into the darkness of the night city. He looked at corporate holograms, at drones, at endless rows of windows behind which slept assets like him. But he was no longer one of them. He was different. He was a human who had decided to fight.