I'm just so bored and i want to do something(plz don't take a 3 option i dont want to do this 😭)

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For now, I'll be posting recently written chapters here because i just want it.

I think you'll like the chapter.(Those who enjoy hurt/comfort will probably appreciate it.)

Just enjoy

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Alan sat at the old computer, peering into the murky screen. His fingers moved across the keyboard — not quickly, but carefully, as if he were typing code by touch in complete darkness. The chip's system responded with a delay, as if reluctantly admitting a stranger.

Kevin stood nearby, leaning his shoulder against the wall. The burning in his head had returned — not as sharp as last time, but muffled, as if the signal were pushing through a thick layer of cotton. He had already learned to distinguish the shades of pain: this one wasn't attacking, just background noise, like the hum of a distant generator.

"How's it going?" Plaf asked, staying close to the entrance. His white tail tapped nervously against the concrete.

"The beacon's still alive," Alan replied without looking away from the screen. "It's embedded too deep, at the core level of the system. I can't fully remove or disable it with this hardware. But I can bring the transmitter power down to minimum. The walls of this warehouse — thick concrete. If we go down to the basement, the signal practically won't leak outside."

"Practically?" Kevin echoed.

"Within a couple of meters around you — yes, there'll be interference. But outside the building, they won't be able to pinpoint us anymore. It's not a shutdown, it's... shielding. A local jammer."

"Better than an open broadcast," Plaf summarized.

Alan entered the final command. Kevin felt the burning flare for a second — and then recede, leaving behind a cold emptiness. In the console before his inner vision, the line updated:

[BEACON_V3: ONLINE]

[SIGNAL: MINIMAL — LOCAL SHIELDING ACTIVE]

"Done," Alan exhaled, leaning back in the chair. "As long as we're inside, they can't see us. But the moment we step into open space — the signal will restore itself."

"So we stay here," Kevin said. "At least until dark."

Plaf was already heading toward the far corner of the warehouse, where a massive metal door with a slightly worn sign reading "Storage" loomed behind old shelving.

"There's something here," he tossed over his shoulder, tugging the handle. The lock, old and rusted, didn't give way immediately, but after a couple of yanks, the door screeched open.

Behind it was a small nook crammed with junk: broken chairs, empty canisters, a stack of dusty folders. But on one of the shelves, carefully covered with a piece of tarp, lay items clearly not of civilian origin.

Plaf pulled off the tarp and let out a low whistle.

"Army knife." He picked up the first object, ran a finger along the blade, grimaced. "Rusty, but still sharp. A second one just like it."

Kevin approached and took one of the knives. The metal was cold, the grip scratched, but the balance felt right. Not lab weaponry, not high-tech — just steel that wouldn't fail if it came to close combat.

"Body armor," Plaf continued, pulling out a dusty vest with stains of unknown origin. Light, second protection class. It wouldn't stop a rifle round, but against shrapnel or a baton strike — quite. "And..."

He faltered and carefully, with both paws, extracted a round, ribbed object from the depths of the shelf.

"A grenade..." he said, almost reverently. "Fragmentation. Old, but the pin is still in place."

"Put it down gently," Kevin said. "These things don't like to be rushed."

Plaf carefully lowered the grenade back onto the shelf and exchanged glances with Kevin.

"The vest — for Alan. He's the only one of us without fur and claws, and if it comes to a fight, he needs at least some protection. The knives — for us. The grenade..." Kevin paused. "The grenade I'll take. If the override does trigger and they actually take control of me, at least I'll have time to pull the pin before I hurt you."

"Don't talk like that," Plaf snapped.

"I'm not joking."

"That's exactly why. Don't."

Kevin didn't answer, but he took the grenade and secured it on his belt. The knife — behind grenade. Plaf followed his example, and carried the vest to Alan, who had finished with the computer and now sat with his eyes closed, exhausted no less than the others.

"Here," Plaf dropped the vest onto his lap. "Put it on. In case they do find us."

Alan nodded without unnecessary words and began fastening the vest's straps.

For several minutes, silence reigned. The exhaustion that adrenaline had been masking hit all three of them at once. Kevin felt his eyelids growing heavy, his thoughts tangling. But the moment he allowed himself to close his eyes, the console flickered.

Not a system message.

An alien command.

It didn't appear as text — but as a sensation. An order injected into his nervous system like venom. Instant, brooking no resistance. Kevin didn't so much read it as feel it with his entire body:

[EXECUTE: SECURE WEAPON AND ENGAGE HOSTILES]

His paw jerked toward the knife on its own.

Kevin froze mid-motion. The muscles in his arm bulged, his claws slid out from their pads by themselves. He saw his own paw gripping the hilt — and couldn't stop it. Not because he didn't want to. But because the command was stronger.

"Kevin?" Plaf's voice reached him from somewhere far away.

"No. No. I won't."

He clenched his teeth and pushed back against the alien command with his will, like bracing a shoulder against a slamming door. The console before his eyes flashed a faint but noticeable red:

[WARNING: MOTOR OVERRIDE IN PROGRESS]

[RESISTANCE DETECTED]

[STRESS LEVEL: RISING]

The alien pressure grew. The whisper in his head became a voice — unintelligible but insistent, repeating the same thing over and over, like a stuck record. Kevin felt his gaze shift on its own toward Plaf. Toward his friend's throat.

"No..." he exhaled through gritted teeth.

And threw the knife to the floor.

The blade clattered against the concrete. The grip of the alien will weakened — not gone, but retreating, like a wave breaking against the rocks. The console updated:

[OVERRIDE ATTEMPT: FAILED]

[SUBJECT RESISTANCE: SUCCESSFUL]

Kevin stood, breathing hard. The paw that had just been gripping the weapon trembled.

Plaf stared at him. In his blue eyes there was no fear — something else entirely... something resembling understanding.

"Again?" he asked quietly.

"Yes. An order. They wanted to make me grab the knife and..." Kevin broke off. "And attack you."

Alan, already wearing the vest, came closer.

"You resisted. And won."

"So far," Kevin grinned crookedly. "But they're getting more persistent. If the override truly kicks in, I might not have time to drop the weapon."

"Then we need to make sure it doesn't kick in," Plaf said. "Alan, you said the second module can be deactivated. What's needed for that?"

"Time," Alan replied. "And access to the chip. But there's no longer the equipment here that I had in the garage. We need to find another place. And for now..." he looked at Kevin, "for now you'll have to hold on."

"I'm holding on," Kevin said. "So far."

He picked the knife up from the floor, but this time tucked it into the sheath behind his boot — further away, so that if it came to it, he wouldn't be able to draw it instantly.

"Let's go to the basement," Plaf ordered. "The signal is weaker there, and anyway... there's less chance of us being spotted if someone decides to check the warehouse."

The descent into the basement turned out to be narrow and dark. Concrete steps led downward, straight into a damp coolness that smelled of mold and old iron. Alan went first, lighting the way with his phone screen. Plaf — after him. Kevin brought up the rear, glancing back at the closed door again and again.

The basement was small — four by four meters, bare walls, a few empty shelves, and an old mattress in the corner, dragged here by someone unknown and at some unknown time. But the main thing — there was a thick layer of concrete on all sides. The shielding worked perfectly: the console showed the beacon's signal had dropped to almost zero.

"We'll spend the night here," Plaf said, lowering himself onto the mattress. "In shifts. Who takes first watch?"

"Me," Kevin volunteered. "I won't sleep anyway after that."

Alan nodded, settled into the corner, using the folded vest as a pillow, and dropped off almost instantly. The sleepless night and the tension had taken their toll.

Plaf didn't lie down. He sat, leaning his back against the wall, and looked at Kevin.

"We never finished," he said quietly.

"I know," Kevin replied without turning around.

The silence stretched between them, but this time it wasn't hostile. Just two beings who had been carrying their own burdens for too long, finally deciding they could at least set them on the ground. Not throw them away — just give themselves a break.

"When I said you were a mistake..." Plaf began.

"You were right," Kevin interrupted. He turned and looked Plaf straight in the eye. "I was a mistake. A mistake of a system that tried to turn me into an obedient weapon. But a weapon can't choose. And I — I chose. Chose "not" to kill you in that corridor, even though I really wanted to. Chose not to activate self-destruction on the cliff. Chose to resist when they just tried to seize control. Maybe I am a mistake — but this mistake has learned to fight back."

Plaf listened without interrupting. His tail stilled, his white fur glowed faintly in the darkness.

"That's not what I meant," he said at last. "Back then, in the garage, I wasn't talking about the system. I was talking about you. About who you used to be. But since then... you've changed. Or maybe I just didn't see the real you behind what the lab showed."

"Maybe.."

"I want you to know," Plaf continued slowly, choosing his words, "I don't think you're a mistake. Not anymore. You're the only one who even tried to change anything. And I... I'm glad you're here."

Kevin didn't answer right away. He stared somewhere into the darkness beyond Plaf's shoulder, and in his orange eyes reflected the faint light of the indicator on the wall.

"I'm glad too," he said at last. "That you're alive. That you're here. Even if we still don't fully trust each other."

"Not fully." Plaf agreed. "But that's already something."

Silence again, but now there was something almost cozy in it. Kevin stretched out his legs and laid his tail across his knees. Somewhere deep in the chip, the override protocol continued to pulse — stilled, as if someone was watching him through it. The scientists wouldn't give up. So they would try again.

But right now, in this concrete basement, under layers of earth and silence, Kevin allowed himself, for a few hours, to simply be. Not an experiment. Not a prototype. And not a mistake.

Just... himself..

And that was enough...