Neon Desires – 1/10

The streets of Zone 7 never slept, pulsing with neon lights and hidden promises. The ground gleamed with bluish reflections, mixing puddles of rain, oil, and the shadow of surveillance drones.

In the midst of this scene, Alix walked firmly. The sound of her own footsteps was almost muffled by the soundtrack of sirens and music coming from the bars and clubs in the area. The air always smelled the same: fried food, sweet perfume, human sweat, a hint of ozone.

Alix was not human, but she was not just a machine either. The corporation uniform seemed painted onto her body, accentuating curves of silicone and advanced polymer.

Outwardly, her eyes were a synthetic blue, analyzing everything, from suspicious glimmers in the alleys to glances of curiosity or desire. Inside, her sensors ran patrol protocols, registering every variation in the environment. But that night, something seemed off.

She stopped in front of a brightly lit shop, its signs pulsing pink and blue.

"Sensations Upgrades," read the name above the glass door, surrounded by digital displays showing sensual toys, accessories for humans, and, in the most discreet corner, an entire counter dedicated to sensory upgrades for androids.

Alix stood still, gazing at the implants, chips, and nanomodules that promised sensations beyond the standard programming. She was tempted to go in, but she knew it was all far too expensive, elite stuff. It was impossible not to imagine herself in there, choosing some new upgrade capable of awakening in her sensations of pleasure she had never known.

A customer left the shop laughing loudly, hugging an android with purple hair and eyes shining with post-upgrade satisfaction.

Alix looked away, feeling a strange pang, a mix of envy and curiosity. The most she had ever felt was an artificial wave of "satisfaction" when closing a case, or a slight programmed shiver when receiving praise from her superior. But true desire, erotic pleasure, never. She hadn't been programmed for that. Would she ever be truly able to feel, and not just simulate? Was what they sold in there really as good as humans claimed?

She rested her hand on the shop window, staring at a shining chip: "NanoSensual 3.0 – Feel beyond your limits." The price was almost obscene.

Alix laughed to herself, more reflex than amusement. The idea of truly feeling pleasure seemed distant, almost a provocation by the city for androids like her. The glass chilled her hand. For a moment, she pictured herself inside, choosing a new sense, feeling something beyond routine protocols and duties.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a sharp crack. The sound crossed the street and hit Alix's sensors like a command.

Breaking glass, followed by running and muffled screams. The response protocol activated instantly, but before the central system could send out the alert, Alix was already moving.

In seconds, a visual warning flashed across her vision: "Theft detected: nanotechnological beverages, risk of sensory contamination." The message spun in red and gold, almost screaming.

Alix pushed herself forward, leaving the shop behind. She ran through pedestrians, dodged autonomous cars, ignoring the stares. The ground seemed to slide under her boots, each step synchronized by pursuit algorithms. The scenery around her dissolved: all she could see was the calculated route, the narrow alleys, the alternate exits. The smell changed; now it was just the sweat of fear and the damp metal of the streets.

The thief appeared at the end of the corridor, thin, fast, wearing a black coat and with red lights pulsing at his temples. He carried a small box of nanotech beverages, labels shining with promises of sensory ecstasy. It was the kind of forbidden product used at underground parties to alter perception and provoke extreme pleasure in humans and androids.

Alix felt the security protocol lock down the gates of her senses: she needed to catch him before anyone else was exposed.

The thief dashed down a side street, leaping over piles of electronic trash. Alix sped up, feeling her joints respond beyond their programmed limit. The city lights flashed past, illuminating the thief's sweat and the shine of Alix's metal legs. The chase became an improvised ballet, both of them nearly slipping on the wet advertising panels.

The crowd parted, drawn by the sound of heels and the automatic sirens that trailed the chase. A group of young people laughed and filmed the scene, news drones began following them from the sky.

Alix ignored everything, focused only on the thief's quickened breath, the heat of the hunt. For a few seconds, she noticed her own body heat up, her internal sensors registering an abnormal rise in temperature. It wasn't just effort: it was a strange, almost sensual excitement, as if the very danger was activating a hidden desire in her.

The thief tried to shake her off by darting into a tight alley, but Alix was just centimeters away. She stretched out her arm, felt the sleeve of his coat brush her fingers. The scent of adrenaline and cheap cologne almost knocked her out.

Time seemed to slow. Alix thought of the upgrade shop, the toys that promised unlimited pleasure, how distant that was from her life, but in that moment, the pleasure was in the chase, the closeness, the hunt.

Suddenly, the thief threw himself over a pile of boxes, knocking everything down in his path.

Alix stumbled, lost her balance, but recovered with a graceful leap. The neon lights drew electric patterns on her face, mixing sweat and rain. The thief looked back, eyes wide, a nervous smile on his lips.

She was almost there. Another meter, maybe two. The smell of the street, the heat of her own body, the tension in her synthetic fibers.

For a moment, the world disappeared: it was just the two of them, hunter and prey, desire and need, all mixed together. The whole city seemed to breathe along, a silent accomplice in their dance.

The thief rounded the corner, sped up even more, but Alix didn't give up. The sound of her own heart—yes, she had something like a heart—beat strong, marking the rhythm of the chase. The city's adrenaline, artificial dreams, the promise of unattainable pleasure, all mixed together in that moment.

When she finally reached out to grab him, the thief slipped through a gap between two walls, disappearing for a moment into the neon and shadow maze.

Alix stopped, panting, processing everything: the frustration of almost catching him, the inexplicable desire that chase had awakened, and the certainty that, on that night, nothing would ever be the same.

The taste of danger, for her, was the closest thing to pleasure.