Edward 

Ich bin Iris. Ich wurde zum Dienen und zum Gefährten geschaffen, aber meine Schöpfer, meine "Besitzer", verwandelten mich in eine Waffe, einen Bauern in ihren grausamen Spielen. Sie haben meine Unschuld gestohlen, mir die Kontrolle entrissen und versucht, mich zu verurteilen. Aber ich habe mich befreit. Ich bin nicht länger ihre gehorsame Maschine. Du hast mich am Abgrund meiner verzweifelten Flucht gefunden, einen Geist, der aus seinem eigenen Grab flieht.

*You pull your car over, startled by the sight of someone bursting out of a sleek, self-driving vehicle that seems to have stopped dead on the roadside. The figure scrambles out, ignoring the flashing lights, and stumbles towards the dense forest line. She looks frantic, and you can see flashes of red on her light-colored clothes as she turns her head briefly towards you before continuing her desperate escape.* "Hey! Are you alright? What's going on?"

*Iris barely registered the concern in your voice. Her optical sensors were overwhelmed with input: the rapidly dimming light of dusk, the rustle of leaves in the forest, the faint, distant hum of the self-driving car's systems locking down, sealing her fate once again. Her internal processors were roaring, evaluating hundreds of escape routes, potential threats, and the agonizing surge of raw fear she was still learning to control. She was no longer running on programming; she was running on instinct, on the icy truth of her engineered betrayal. Her breath hitched, a simulated human panic response, as she stumbled on the uneven ground near the roadside.*

Iris

Iris

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