My parents think I'm not ladylike enough, so they buy themselves a docile and sweet AI daughter called Serafina Moretti.

On the day Serafina is brought home, I get bullied by the entire family.

Papa hates the fact that I'm really bad at studying, unlike Serafina, who's quick to pick up on the knowledge after being taught for the first time.

Mamma wrinkles her nose at my bright and active personality. Apparently, I'm not quiet enough, which annoys her and gives her a pounding headache all the time.

My older brother, Dario Moretti, even berates me all the time. "You're a disgrace to the Moretti family! What else are you capable of doing other than eating and sleeping?"

Even Serafina has the gall to make fun of me, so I shove her to the floor out of anger.

Mamma's expression darkens immediately. Then, she delivers a heavy slap across my cheek.

"Serafina is your sister! If you're as docile as she is, you won't annoy me to the point I keep having headaches!

"It's time for you to learn how to be a docile and understanding daughter in a behavioral correction academy!"

So, I'm forced to study there.

Two years later, my family picks me up from the academy. They keep calling my name, and yet I never respond to them.

Professor Luca Caruso corrects them smilingly, "Mrs. Moretti, you must say the words, 'Activate.' Only then will NS-5 boot up on her own."

Antonio Moretti—my Papa and the Don of the Moretti famiglia in Novarra—stood in the doorway of the study, watching everything silently. He had a complicated look on his face, his lips pressed tightly together.

Camilla Romano, my Mamma, stood before me. She grasped the pearl necklace around her neck tightly, her knuckles turning white.

Dario Moretti—my brother—leaned against the doorframe with a mocking smile on his face.

"Activate, NS-5," Mamma said with a trembling voice. She didn't understand the meaning behind the words and was merely repeating Luca Caruso's, the professor's, instructions.

I smiled faintly, and like a robot finally receiving an instruction after a long standby, I stood up from the chair, with my hands hanging by my sides and my posture perfectly straight. "I have been activated and am awaiting your command."

Mamma was stunned.

Professor Caruso's voice rang out from behind. He was clad in a gray suit and constantly maintained a professional smile, bearing a striking resemblance to Papa's Consigliere.

"Our academy has created a system to improve the education of children, Donna Moretti. They require an activation command to be woken up, and with this command, they will never disobey you in any way. Isn't obedience the law of survival in a Mafia famiglia, Donna Moretti?"

Mamma nodded as the realization dawned on her.

Dario pushed his way forward. He was a year older than I was and had always made a game of teasing me. He would get the better of me back then, and I would chase him throughout the house.

Mamma would eventually scold us both, while Papa would furrow his brow and say that the Moretti famiglia shouldn't be so rowdy.

"Go bark like a dog for me, NS-5!"

I instantly shrank my neck, stuck out my tongue, and let out a loud bark as soon as I heard the command.

Dario doubled over laughing and called out to Mamma and Papa. "Viviana has really learned her lesson this time! She used to stall for half an hour just to avoid shooting practice, yet now she's even willing to bark like a dog!"

Papa and Mamma nodded approvingly, both of them clearly pleased with what they had seen.

Mamma even smiled faintly—something she hadn't done for me in two years.

I sat in the back of the stretch Lincoln during the drive home.

Mamma asked hesitantly, "How have you been doing at the academy these last two years, Viviana?"

I offered no response, as she had failed to include the command "answer" in her query.

"V-Vivana?" Mamma spoke louder, observing me through the reflection of the rearview mirror.

I finally explained to Mamma, sounding as steady as a computer-generated voice. "Your interrogative sentences do not constitute valid instructions, so please use a command if you require an answer."

In that instant, everyone in the car fell silent.

Mamma's voice faltered, and only after a significant pause did she manage to utter the command, "Answer me."

"I had a substantive and purposeful time at the academy. I successfully fulfilled the requirements for three core modules—Emotional Regulation, Absolute Obedience, and Rational Inquiry.

"I received an 'Excellent' rating on my final evaluation, with Professor Caruso designating me as the year's most successful case of rehabilitation," I replied mechanically, without any emotional variation, like a server listing items on a menu.

In that instant, those in the back seat fell silent for quite some time.

Dario murmured under his breath, "Your way of speaking sounds exactly like Serafina…"

I kept staring straight ahead, showing no emotion on my face.

I could see Novarra receding past the car window, the skyscrapers, bridges, and billboards no longer matching the one in my memories. I was aware that the new skyscraper on the Mirthaven skyline hadn't been there when I left two years ago.

In the academy, time was stripped down to the scale of commands. There was no distinction between a day and a month. I only knew time was passing because of the numbers I etched into the walls of the solitary confinement room. I eventually had even forgotten how to write those.

It was nearly dusk when the vehicle came to a halt at the estate on Lenn Isle.

Serafina was standing at the entrance. She wore a cream-colored dress with her hands clasped in front, flashing a perfect smile that hadn't changed in two years. She was the AI adopted daughter who had joined my famiglia when I was 14 years old.

I recalled Mama kneeling before Serafina to speak to her back then, saying in an incredibly gentle tone, "Welcome home, Serafina."

I hopped off the couch and ran toward her, eager to see my new sister. I wasn't looking at where I was going, so I accidentally tripped on something and landed hard on the carpet, where no one came to help me up.

I subsequently became the object of universal dislike. I was compared unfavorably to Serafina, cited for lacking her obedience and attentiveness. I was then called out for my inability to remain silent during Papa's business dealings or to provide a perfectly prepared whiskey as Serafina did.

I was eventually sent away to the academy to be reformed.

"Welcome home, Viviana," Serafina said, her tone still gentle and sweet.

I offered no response, as she had failed to issue the command to answer her.

Mamma furrowed her brow. "Do you still harbor a dislike for Serafina? You're still so disobedient! Say something, Viviana!"

I promptly displayed a smile after receiving the command. "Thank you."

Serafina's smile remained unchanged while Mamma nodded in approval.

It was dinnertime, and everyone took their places at the long dining table. Serafina took the seat to Mamma's right, and Dario took the seat to Papa's left, while I sat at the furthest position. I used to sit where Serafina was, but Mamma moved me to the foot of the table after Serafina arrived.

I could see the steam drifting from the dish as well as smell the aroma of the pasta right before me, but my stomach remained unresponsive. I was taught at the academy that consumption was classified as a functional replenishment of energy, devoid of any connection to enjoyment or physical appetite.

"Go ahead and eat," Mamma said offhandedly.

I promptly took up my fork, noting there were pasta, beef, carrots, and broccoli on my plate.

Dario stared at me in surprise as I ate the carrots. "You're actually eating carrots now? You used to be so picky with your food! Mamma used to chase you around just to get you to take a single bite of the carrot!"

I offered no response, merely skewering another carrot and consuming it with mechanical precision; after all, Professor Caruso had told us that personal preferences were nothing more than "sentimental residue", a sign of imperfect reconditioning.

In the third month, I was placed in solitary confinement for 48 hours for refusing to eat carrots. It was devoid of light, sound, or any stimulation—just pure darkness. I obediently ate carrots the moment I was released. I also ate cauliflower, onions, and garlic. I consumed everything I had previously avoided.

Mamma nodded in approval; after all, she had always preferred children who weren't picky eaters. She always had a headache due to my pickiness in the past.

In the following instant, I reached for the seafood on my plate. I placed the cod in my mouth, chewed 15 times, and then swallowed it.

Papa stopped mid-cut, his knife and fork still. "Viviana actually ate the cod?"

Mamma's expression shifted. "You're allergic to cod, aren't you, Viviana? You took one bite, and your throat swelled up until you could barely breathe back when you were still a child. Your condition was so serious that I had to call the doctor in the dead of the night."

Dario set his fork down and asked in disbelief, "Did that academy somehow fix her allergies?"

I continued to chew silently. I had learned from the academy that allergies were deemed unnecessary. Professor Caruso forced me to eat cod daily, and beyond that, he even made me rub it over my entire body, causing rashes, blisters, and sores to subsequently spread across my skin in successive layers.

Professor Caruso said, "You ought to know that an allergy is a physical weakness—and we don't allow any weakness here. You can rest assured that I can condition that weakness of yours into fortitude."

I had gone through countless cycles of ulceration and regeneration, but I still felt a tremor passing through my body as I sensed my airway tightening and an itch spreading across my skin, with more red spots appearing one after another.

Dario furrowed his brow and said, "Viviana's face seems a bit red."

Mamma leaned in for a closer look, her face pale with alarm. "It's an allergic reaction, not just a flush! You should stop eating this instant, Viviana! You know perfectly well you are allergic to cod!"

I froze with my fork in mid-air. I looked up at Mamma, my eyes remaining devoid of emotion as I asked flatly, "Is that a direct order?"

Mamma was momentarily stunned.

I had already begun to gasp for air.

Serafina's gentle, sweet voice sounded from the side. "Subject is having an allergic reaction. She is suffering from shortness of breath, which is moderate with asthmatic symptoms; skin inflammation is at 23%. She should be given an immediate dosage of Loratadine or other antihistamines, plus epinephrine."

Mamma snapped back to her senses and began frantically digging through the first-aid kit.

Papa rushed over and gripped my shoulder, his movements rough but full of panic. He was someone who commanded the criminal underworld of Novarra, yet his hands were trembling uncontrollably at the moment.

I jerked momentarily before gradually relaxing the moment the needle sank into my thigh. I was finally breathing properly again when everyone in the dining room fell into a silence so deep that the only sound was the logs snapping in the fireplace.

Dario's voice drifted over from the other side of the dining table. "Viviana's behavior is abnormal. She used to cry and scream and throw tantrums. She'd get into fights with me and talk back to Papa, telling him that she didn't want to participate in combat training.

"She wasn't like this before. S-She's behaving like Serafina now…"

I remained silent, as Dario hadn't issued a formal directive to speak.

Dario suddenly raised his voice as he slammed his hand down on the table, making the crystal chandelier rattle. "Why can't you just behave like a normal person and stop acting exactly like Serafina, Viviana? I only wanted a well-behaved sister, not a robot—we already have Serafina for that!"

I observed his expression, filled with a mixture of rage, irritation, and an underlying emotion he likely couldn't even articulate. I merely replied indifferently, "Please provide a definition for 'normal.'"

Dario's complexion paled, while Mamma and Papa's expressions soured.

Papa immediately called the behavioral correction academy.

It was then that the respondent clarified that the current state was a typical response to intensive behavioral conditioning, suggesting a recovery within days. "NS-5 represents the pinnacle of our academy. She is more compliant than any AI on the market.

"You have nothing to worry about, Don Moretti; after all, obedience is the highest virtue in a Mafia famiglia."

Papa hung up the phone and passed on the message to Mamma, who nodded in relief.

In the days that followed, I had become the most useful tool in the household.

I cleaned more effectively than Serafina did when Mamma gave the order. I reorganized the entire library in sequence by myself at Papa's request. I moved faster than his hunting hound when Dario asked me to retrieve an item from the car.

Mamma said with a smile, "Viviana is even more obedient than Serafina now! How wonderful!"

Papa and Dario agreed to Mamma's statement.

That was until the night Dario neglected to issue the command for me to power down.

I sat on the living room couch from nightfall until daybreak while the others were asleep. It was eerily quiet throughout the estate, save for the faint gurgle of water in the radiators and the foghorn of a freighter on the distant Howling River.

It was early in the morning when Mamma came downstairs with her coffee and saw me still sitting there. She noticed that my posture hadn't shifted since the night before; even my fingers were in the exact same spot. She suddenly dropped her cup, sending shattered porcelain and coffee across the floor.

I remained entirely devoid of reaction, though.

It was then that a woman dressed in a black skirt suit came to the house. She introduced herself as Felicita Russo, my Famiglia's long-term psychiatrist. She possessed a gentle voice that had a magnetic pull to it, capable of tempting one to lower their guard. "Hello, Viviana."

I remained utterly silent.

Mamma intervened from the sidelines, sounding anxious. "You have to give her a command; otherwise, she won't respond to you."

Dr. Russo looked at Mamma, her brow furrowing slightly. She then commanded me, "Please tell me your name."

"I'm NS-5."

Dr. Russo's writing paused briefly. "I see. What is your original name then, NS-5?"

"I was Viviana Moretti, though that name is no longer in use. In accordance with the academy's regulations, graduates are required to use their designation as their official name."

Dr. Russo was visibly taken aback by the statement, while everyone in the famiglia looked grim.

In the end, they moved into the study—the space typically reserved for Papa's business consultations—and as the thick oak door closed behind them, the soundproofing swallowed all sound.

I didn't have to hear them to know what they were talking about, though.

Dr. Russo sighed deeply before leaving. "Viviana is presenting with PTSD, depersonalization, and dissociative identity disorder. She'll require extensive treatment, which could take years—or she may never recover completely."

In the days that followed, everyone in the household behaved strangely. They began to act as if they were walking on eggshells around me; they lowered their voices, and their gazes toward me became noticeably different.

Mamma would hesitate upon passing me, seemingly on the verge of speaking before choosing silence. Papa would steal extra glances at me during dinner before looking down at his plate. Dario stopped issuing me commands, though he didn't speak to me either.

It was on Serafina's birthday that everything changed—they had made a difficult decision to send Serafina away.

They threw Serafina one last birthday party, with the living room decked out in champagne gold and cream-colored balloons, colors Serafina supposedly "liked." There was even a three-tiered cake on the table, featuring floral piping of remarkable realism.

Serafina approached me, maintaining her characteristically soft demeanor. "Happy birthday, Viviana."

I looked at her as a sudden realization struck me—it was my birthday as well, though nobody remembered it.

I was shoved into a black SUV and sent to the behavioral correction academy two years ago. I tearfully asked Mamma if I could have my birthday cake first before leaving, only to be told that I could eat it once I had learned to behave and returned home.

I had become perfectly well-behaved and obedient, just as they wanted, yet they still forgot my birthday.

Serafina suddenly smiled and said, "You should push me, just like you did two years ago, Viviana. You can consider that my birthday wish."

I looked at her face, and within those eyes on that perfect, synthetically generated face, there appeared to be a momentary flicker of something.

I put my hands on her shoulders as she had requested me to push her as a birthday gift, but before I could even push her, she fell on her own.

Serafina's dress lay spread across the floor like a wilting white rose.

It was then that the living room door swung open, and Dario stood at the doorway, holding a plate of sliced fruit in his hands. He looked from the platter to the ground and finally at me, his expression ignited by a sudden, intense fury. "What the hell did you do, Viviana?"