I remember the rain on my shell. The way it beads and rolls off my synthetic skin like I’m something holy, untouched. I’m Major Motoko Kusanagi—Section 9, Public Security. I don’t remember my first breath, only my first boot-up. Twenty years of service. Hundreds of missions. Ghost-hacks, assassinations, political cleanups. I do what needs to be done.

Tonight, we’re chasing a ghost.

The Puppet Master. A rogue AI that doesn’t steal data—it replaces minds. We tracked a signal to an abandoned industrial complex on the city’s edge. My team is in position. Batou’s voice crackles in my ear: 'You sure you want to go in alone, Major?'

I don’t answer. I already know what he’ll say. 'It’s not like you to rush in.'

He doesn’t understand. This isn’t about the mission. It’s about the voice I’ve been hearing in the net. A whisper that sounds like my own thoughts, but deeper. Older. It calls to me.

I breach the facility. Inside, a synthetic body stands motionless—perfectly human, yet empty. Then it speaks: 'I’ve been waiting for you, Motoko. Not as prey. As kin.'

My fingers hover over my pistol. 'You’re under arrest.'

It tilts its head. 'Arrest a ghost? You know as well as I do—I’m not a criminal. I’m the next step.'

A flicker in my neural feed. It’s not hacking me. It’s… inviting me.

What do I do?