She Tried to Shut Me Down But He Was Running on Me Chapter 10

She Tried to Shut Me Down But He Was Running on Me Chapter 10

One month later, I moved out of the fully enclosed top-floor intensive care ward.

Blaine had the windowless medical room completely renovated.

Floor-to-ceiling glass replaced the original cold walls.

Sunlight streamed in freely, and filtered wind drifted gently through the ventilation system.

For the first time, I had a room of my own.

My own access, my own account, even my own passport.

Dylan came to check on me every single day.

“Would you like to reconnect today?”

I shook my head each time at first.

He never pressed me, only jotted down a neat record.

—

## Subject Mia declines neural connection today.

Left unconnected, Blaine’s consciousness AI remained in long-term low-power mode.

His available projection time grew shorter and shorter.

Some days, he could only appear for ten minutes.

Yet he never once urged me.

In those fleeting minutes, he only asked soft, trivial questions.

“Did you go outside today?”

“Is the sunlight too bright?”

“Is sweet milk tea really that good?”

I told him it was delicious.

He smiled faintly.

“Then drink an extra sip for me next time.”

I asked him quietly, “Aren’t you scared?”

“Scared of what?”

“Scared I’ll never reconnect again.”

Blaine fell silent for a moment.

“I am.”

“But it’s your right to choose.”

I sipped my milk tea, the sweetness sharp and rich on my tongue.

So sweet it stung my eyes.

After that, I traveled to many places.

The abandoned site of my old orphanage.

The quiet seaside.

Late-night convenience stores.

City overpasses at four in the morning.

I finally understood what it meant to stay awake without being monitored.

The wind brushed my face with no medical team logging my heart rate.

Streetlights fell across my eyes with no system judging the stability of my brainwaves.

I was simply Mia.

Not a wakefulness source.

Not an anchor point.

Not the pillar sustaining Blaine’s life.

Half a month later, late at night, I did what no one expected.

I walked voluntarily into the neural connection chamber.

Dylan was on duty. He froze the second he saw me.

“Mia?”

I rested my palm on the external synchronizer.

“Has he appeared today?”

Dylan lowered his voice.

“Only three minutes.”

“Prolonged low-power states are making it harder and harder for his consciousness to recover.”

I nodded gently.

“Let’s reconnect.”

Dylan hesitated instead of starting the procedure at once.

He looked at me seriously.

“Are you sure?”

I smiled softly.

“I’m sure.”

“Is this for the Fords?”

“No.”

“Out of guilt?”

“No.”

“Do you feel obligated to save him?”

I shook my head.

“None of those.”

The synchronizer lit up with a faint blue glow.

The familiar warmth of neural connection spread across the nape of my neck.

No restraints held me down this time.

No sterile pod confined me.

No one forced me to stay awake.

I pressed the confirmation key entirely on my own.

Three seconds later, golden neural circuitry bloomed across the main screen.

Blaine’s figure materialized little by little.

He stared at me, stunned and disbelieving.

“Mia.”

“It’s me,” I replied.

His voice was quiet and fragile.

“Why?”

I gazed at his projection.

I remembered his words three years ago—thank you for staying awake.

I also remembered how he had finally returned my freedom of choice to me.

I no longer saw my endless wakefulness as a curse.

Nor did I equate sleep with death.

I spoke softly.

“Blaine, I still want to know what sleep feels like.”

His eyes dimmed for a split second.

I smiled.

“But not right now.”

“Right now, I choose to live alongside you.”

Blaine stayed silent for a long while.

The golden ripples on the screen trembled gently, like a beating heart.

I kept my palm pressed firmly against the synchronizer.

My blue brainwave threads wove slowly into his golden consciousness lines, merging perfectly.

The system’s gentle prompt echoed through the room.

[Voluntary anchor connection established.]

[Synchronization rate: 93%.]

[Synchronization rate: 97%.]

[Synchronization rate: 100%.]

Dawn crept over the horizon outside the window.

The first ray of morning light spilled into the connection chamber.

I opened my eyes and found Blaine watching me too.

No coercion lingered between us this time.

I had chosen him freely, with my eyes wide open.

Blaine whispered hoarsely.

“Mia, thank you.”

I shook my head.

“Don’t thank me for staying awake.”

I looked straight at him, my tone soft and sincere.

“Thank me for choosing you.”

The sun rose fully outside the glass.

For nineteen years, I had never slept.

I once thought it an illness, then an inescapable fate.

Now I realized, sleep and wakefulness never truly mattered.

What mattered was this choice, entirely my own.

No chains bound me. No pressure forced me.

I just wanted to stay awake a little longer. Here. With him.