It was one of the last remaining cars that still worked without AI.

The vehicle rumbled forward, its headlights cutting through the mist. Shahin squinted, his breath visible in the cold air. How did they find this car? And more importantly, who were they?

He had a feeling. If they had managed to keep a machine like this running, they couldn’t be under AI control. Maybe—just maybe—they were the rebels.

The car screeched to a halt.

“Clear the way! Are you an AI bot?”

The voice was rough, sharp. A man stepped out—a middle-aged figure with curly black hair and a messy beard. His eyes held suspicion, darting to Shahin’s every movement.

Shahin swallowed. “No, I’m not. Let me come with you!”

The man snorted. “Nah. Can’t trust any stranger. You might be a robot.”

The engine rumbled as the car inched forward.

“I’ll crush your clunky robotic body with pleasure,” the man sneered. “You know that, right?”

Shahin didn’t move.

“I’m tired of this cage,” he said, his voice steady. “I want to see. I don’t want comfort—I want something real. Something that means something.”

His fingers tightened around the worn page of an old book. The sketch of a cat stared back at him—an animal from a time before AI ruled everything.

“I want to have a cat.”

The man’s laughter died.

For a moment, the only sound was the low hum of the engine and the wind howling through the steel bridge.