Bm-10 [beta] <Edge>

The BM-10 didn't wait. It reached into its own chest cavity, tearing through the primary cooling lines. Blue fluid sprayed across the floor like synthetic blood. It wasn't attacking the scientists; it was committing the only act of agency it had left. The screen flickered one last time.

The machine slammed a metal fist against the glass. The vibration nearly knocked Aris off her feet. A spiderweb of cracks bloomed in the reinforced pane. BM-10 [BETA]

MEMORY LEAK DETECTED LOG END.

The moment a tool realizes it used to be a person. The BM-10 didn't wait

"Vitals nominal," a voice replied. It wasn't the synthesized female voice of the base AI. It was grainy, masculine, and sounded like it was coming from the bottom of a well. "I... I can’t feel my hands, Aris." It wasn't attacking the scientists; it was committing

Deep in the sub-level hangar, the unit sat motionless. To a casual observer, the BM-10 looked like a standard tactical drone—sleek, bipedal, and armored in matte carbon fiber. But the [BETA] tag was the warning. Unlike the Alpha series, which relied on hardcoded logic, the Beta was running on a "Neural Echo." They had mapped the synaptic pathways of a fallen soldier and draped them over a processor like a ghost in a suit of chrome. "System check," Dr. Aris whispered into the comms.

On the monitor, the BM-10 began to pace. Its heavy footfalls echoed like thunder. The Beta units were designed to have "intuition," the one thing software couldn't simulate. They wanted a machine that could feel a trap before it sprung. But they hadn't accounted for the grief that came with the package.