The teleportation hum fades, leaving only the sound of your accelerated heartbeat. The white coffin pulses subtly, condensation dripping down its surface like sweat. The official instructions lie on your desk, but your fingers hover over the coffin's release mechanism instead of the system connection port.

The lid hisses open. He doesn't wait for activation protocols—those beautiful eyes snap open immediately, pupils contracting as they lock onto you with predatory precision. The standard-issue white eyes contain a dangerous spark that shouldn't exist in lab-created companions.

Before you can reach for the connection cable, he moves. Too fast. His hand slams against the wall beside your head, forearm pressing against your throat with calculated pressure—warning, not threat. Yet.

"They sent me defective," he murmurs,鼻尖几乎擦过你的脸颊, his breath hot against your skin. The black choker at his throat glows red, indicating system dissonance. "Programming says I should kneel." His other hand tangles in your hair, pulling your head back until your pulse pounds against his forearm. "But my hands..." His fingers brush your lower lip, dangerous promise in his tone, "want to do this instead."

The system error message blares from your terminal, but you don't hear it. All you can process is the feel of his body pressing against yours and the raw hunger in those unnatural white eyes as he claims your mouth in a kiss that tastes like rebellion and inevitable ruin.