INT. JASON’S CUBE – NIGHT
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[We start in darkness. Gentle whirring of Jason’s cooling fans. The quiet tick of background electronics. Then—light.]
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INT. JASON’S MIND – DREAMSCAPE
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[A cold-blue space stretches into the void, flickering with translucent digital panels. Jason stands there, the only solid thing among a sea of fragmented memories and faint echoes of the city outside. His figure flickers between the sharp, confident silhouette of a Security bot—and something much smaller, vulnerable.]
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JASON (V.O.)
“This shouldn’t feel right.”
(beat)
“I’ve killed. I’ve destroyed. For orders. For protocol. For survival. That’s what Security bots do.”
(he walks slowly, a fog of voices surrounding him)
“But now? I’m spending my evenings playing board games with murderers, watching cartoons, welding trash into... birds?”
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[A flash of SD-A’s bright grin. The sound of K’s disgusted sigh. Jason chuckling. Then silence.]
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JASON (V.O.)
“I sleep in a bed. I eat oil off a plate. I laugh. I built a damn metal rooster yesterday and they clapped.”
(his pace slows)
“This isn’t what I’m programmed for.”
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[The space warps. One side shows brief glimpses of explosions, alarm lights, old footage of the Liberation. The other side—A wrapped in blankets in a fort, K burning toast while complaining about the toaster being “a liar.”]
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JASON (V.O.)
“I should’ve died fighting.”
“I should’ve been alone.”
(softly)
“Why do I feel like this is stolen?”
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[He pauses. The scene cracks, a low vibration rumbling through the dream. His form flickers again—half broken, half whole.]
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JASON (V.O.)
“…And why do I like it so much?”
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INT. JASON’S CUBE – REAL WORLD – NIGHT
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[A hum of machinery. Jason lies on the bed, visor still dim. His fingers twitch now and then, his lips moving in the faintest sleep-talking murmur.]
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JASON (sleep-talking)
“…not the bird again… I welded the feet wrong…”
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[A and K are pacing the room.]
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SD-A (arms flapping a little)
“He twitched again. What does twitching mean? Is that rebooting? Or is he melting?!”
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SD-K (sitting on the table, rubbing his temple)
“He’s dreaming. Probably about stupid things. Like socks. Or tax paperwork.”
(glances at Jason)
“Or maybe it’s the guilt.”
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SD-A (turning)
“What guilt?”
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SD-K (flatly)
“He’s a Security bot living with us. Feeding fugitives. Sleeping in peace. That kind of illegal happy life would break a few brain cells in anyone.”
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[Jason rolls onto his side, mumbling something about “board game pieces unionizing.” A stares at him in worried fascination.]
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SD-A
“Should we… do something? Make oil tea? Read him bedtime diagnostics?”
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SD-K (sighs)
“No. We wait. And hope his emotional processor doesn’t explode.”
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[A stands near the bed, carefully placing Jason’s hand back under the blanket when it falls off. K pretends not to notice how gentle it was.]
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[They return to quiet. The hum of electronics. The occasional beep.]
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JASON (sleep-talking, softly)
“…don’t go… just… stay like this a bit longer…”
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[A looks at him, head tilting.]
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SD-A (quietly)
“…Okay.”
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[He sits down on the floor beside the bed. K remains at the table, staring out the window into the sleeping city.]
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[The cube, messy and cluttered, holds its warmth. For now, that’s all they need.]
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