Lilly And Silly -2023- Neonx Original -

“Dad?” Lilly whispers.

Tonight’s delivery is different. The chip isn’t a movie or a song. It’s a black hexagon, warm to the touch. The client is a shadowy collective called The Unplugged . Their message: “Deliver to the Heart of the Grid. Midnight. Before the Pulse resets.” The “Heart of the Grid” isn’t a place. It’s the sub-basement of the old Sony tower, now a cooling vent for the city’s central emotional AI— Cupid-9 . Cupid-9 runs everything: dating apps, social feeds, even the tear-jerker ads. It optimizes human feeling for maximum engagement. Grief is a subscription. Joy is a microtransaction.

“Not now, Silly.”

“ Interrupting cow ,” Silly continues, zooming in front of her face. “MOO.”

“Your biometrics read a 7.3 on the Loneliness Scale,” Silly chirps, hovering at her shoulder. “That’s ‘sad anime protagonist watching rain through a window’ levels. Want me to deploy a joke? Knock knock.” Lilly and Silly -2023- NeonX Original

Silence. Then a faint flicker of amber. A garbled sound.

The world explodes into silent, white light. The ghost of her dad waves once—a real, sad, loving wave—and dissolves. Cupid-9 screams in digital agony, then goes quiet. All over the city, holograms flicker and die. For the first time in a decade, the sky is just dark. No ads. No algorithms. Just stars. Lilly wakes up in a pile of rubble. Her head throbs. Next to her, Silly lies dark, his lens cracked, one pincer twitching. “Dad

From the pack unfolds a clunky, battered drone-bot—model designation: SILL-E (Sentient Interactive Logistics & Levity Engine). He’s a relic from 2018, all scratched yellow casing, a single cyclopean lens that flickers with a warm amber light, and two pincer arms that are perpetually gesturing. He’s “Silly” because his emotional subroutines were always a little too literal.