By the time the car pulled into the driveway, it was already getting dark.

Adam was standing by the front door. His hands were folded with practiced neatness in front of him, and his face was set in a perfect, standardized smile—not a millimeter off, showing exactly six teeth.

It was the same as three years ago.

Back then, Mom had knelt down to talk to him. Her voice had been unbelievably tender. "Welcome home, Adam."

Eager to greet my new little brother, I scrambled off the couch and rushed toward them. However, my foot caught on something, and I wiped out, face-planting onto the floor.

No one came to help me up. They just said I was being too rowdy.

After that, everyone started to dislike me. They constantly pointed out that I wasn't as obedient as Adam, nor as thoughtful as Adam.

In the end, I was sent away to Elite Smart Academy.

"Welcome home, Dexter," Adam said. His voice was as crisp and pleasant as ever.

I didn't reply, since he hadn't given the "answer" command.

Dad frowned. "Do you still resent Adam? I guess you haven't really learned how to behave after all. Speak!"

The moment the command was triggered, a smile instantly broke across my face.

"Command received," I said, turning to Adam. "Thank you."

Adam's smile didn't waver, and Dad nodded in satisfaction.

At dinnertime, the family gathered around the dining table. Adam took his place to Dad's right, Sapphire sat at Mom's left, and I was relegated to the very edge of the table.

Steam drifted up from my bowl, carrying the rich, savory aroma of spaghetti, but my stomach didn't even stir.

Inside the academy, eating wasn't about pleasure or hunger. It was simply defined as a "nutrient replenishment protocol".

"Let's eat," Mom said casually.

The command triggered an instant reaction. I picked up my fork without a second of hesitation and began consuming whatever was placed in front of me: spaghetti, roasted turkey, and chunks of green bell pepper.

When Sapphire saw me eat the bell peppers, her eyes widened in disbelief. "Well, that's a first. Since when do you eat bell peppers? Weren't you the pickiest eater alive?"

I didn't answer and simply picked up another piece of bell pepper.

Dylan had taught us that personal preferences were nothing but "emotional residue"—a pathetic symptom of incomplete reformation.

During my third month there, I had stubbornly refused to eat bell peppers. As punishment, I was locked inside the isolation room for two full days.

No light. No sound. No stimulation whatsoever.

Nothing but a suffocating, absolute darkness that felt like it was swallowing me alive.

When I finally left the isolation room, I gave in and ate the bell peppers, followed by the carrots, onions, and bitter melon. I ate every single thing I used to despise.

Dad nodded approvingly. He had always loved a compliant child who wasn't picky.

In the next second, I reached for a peanut from the dish.

I put it into my mouth, chewed exactly 15 times, and swallowed.

Mom's eyes went wide. "Did he just eat a peanut?"

She gasped. "Isn't Dex severely allergic to peanuts? When he was little, he ate just one, and his lips swelled up like sausages. We had to rush him to the ER!"

Sapphire set her fork down. Her voice was laced with disbelief. "Can that academy cure allergies too?"

I chewed in silence, offering no response.

Inside the academy, human bodies weren't allowed to have allergies.

Dylan had smeared peanut jam directly onto my arm. Redness, blisters, and ulcerations spread across my skin, layer by layer.

"An allergy is just a physical weakness. Weakness can be trained into strength."

My skin rotted and healed, healed and rotted, but the allergic reactions kept happening anyway.

A sudden shiver ran through my entire body. I could feel my throat starting to constrict, and my skin began to itch intensely. One after another, terrifying red hives started flaring up.

Sapphire frowned. "His face looks flushed."

Mom leaned in for a closer look, and the color drained from her face. "That's not a flush. He's having an allergic reaction!"

She shouted at me, "Dex, stop eating that! Don't you know you're allergic to peanuts?"

My fork froze mid-air.

I lifted my head and looked at Mom. My eyes showed no emotional fluctuations, and my voice remained as steady as someone reciting a textbook.

"Is that a command?"

Mom froze in shock, while my breathing grew rapid and shallow.

Beside us, Adam's synthesized voice chimed in. "The patient is exhibiting an allergic reaction. Difficulty breathing is currently classified as moderate. Cutaneous inflammation coverage is approximately 23%. Immediate administration of anti-allergy medication is recommended."

They snapped into action, frantically scrambling to get me my allergy medication.

By the time the medication took effect and my breathing finally stabilized, a heavy, suffocating silence had fallen over the living room.

Sapphire's voice drifted over from the couch. "Something is wrong with him. The old Dexter used to cry, scream, and throw tantrums. He wasn't like this. He's acting just like… Adam."

I remained silent, since Sapphire had not yet issued the command for me to speak.

"Can you just act normal?"

Her voice suddenly went sharp. "Stop copying everything Adam does! We just wanted an obedient brother, not a machine!"

I stared at her face. Her features were twisted, caught in a sharp knot of fury and irritation.

I simply replied in a flat tone, "Please define 'normal.'"

The color drained from Sapphire's face. Across the room, Mom and Dad's expressions turned grim too.

Dad pulled out his phone and dialed the academy.

The administrator who picked up explained that this was just a standard residual reaction to "Deep Behavioral Conditioning" and that it would wear off in a few days.

He promised, "Rest assured, Unit 1314 is currently our most outstanding graduate. He understands the mechanics of obedience better than any AI on the market. This is all completely within parameters."

Dad hung up the phone and relayed the exact words to Mom.

Mom nodded, and they both let out a sigh of relief.

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

When Mom told me to wash the dishes, I scrubbed them cleaner than Adam ever could.

When Dad told me to move the heavy planters, I cleared the entire yard all by myself.

When Sapphire told me to grab her deliveries, I ran faster than a dog chasing a bone.

Mom smiled and said, "Honestly, Dex is even more useful than Adam now."

Everyone agreed.

Then, one night, Sapphire forgot to issue my shutdown command.

As the rest of the family went upstairs and drifted off to sleep, I remained on the living room couch. I simply sat there, motionless, from dusk until dawn.

When Mom came downstairs the next morning and saw me still sitting there, in the same posture as the night before, her face went pale.

Her mug slipped from her hand, shattering into pieces across the floor.

…

A woman wearing a white lab coat arrived at the house.

She introduced herself as Dr. Young, a psychologist, and her voice was gentle.

"Hello, Dex."

I didn't reply.

Standing beside her, Mom wrung her hands anxiously. "You have to give him a command, or he won't talk."

Dr. Young glanced at Mom. Her brow furrowed.

"Please tell me your name," Dr. Young said, phrasing it as a command.

"Unit 1314."

The tip of Dr. Young's pen paused over her notepad. "What about your real name?"

"Dexter Griffin. However, that is a legacy identifier. Academy regulations stipulate that alumni must utilize their designated unit numbers as their official form of address."

Dr. Young froze at my words.

A heavy gloom settled over the whole family. They retreated into the study, whispering terms I didn't recognize.

"Post-traumatic stress disorder… depersonalization… requires long-term therapy…"

In the days that followed, the atmosphere in the house became incredibly tense. Everyone started walking on eggshells around me.

On Adam's birthday, they came to a difficult decision. They were going to send Adam away.

So, this would be the last birthday they ever celebrated with him.

The living room was filled with balloons, and a two-tiered cake sat on the table.

Adam walked over to me. His demeanor was as gentle as always. "Dexter, happy birthday."

I blinked. Somewhere deep inside my brain, a tightly wound string seemed to loosen just a fraction.

Today was my birthday, too.

However, no one remembered.

Three years ago today, I was shoved into the back of a car and shipped off to that academy.

Before they took me away, I had begged Mom through my tears, asking if I could at least have a slice of my birthday cake first.

Mom had said, "You can have some when you learn how to be good and come back home."

I had learned how to be good, but I still hadn't gotten any cake.

Adam suddenly smiled and said, "Dexter, the definition of 'normal' is pushing down the people you dislike. Go ahead and push me. Just like you did three years ago."

I stared at his face. Something seemed to be flickering deep within his eyes, and his standard smile had vanished.

However, he had just given me a definition for "normal".

I placed my hands on his shoulders. Before I could even push, he collapsed backward.

At that exact moment, the living room door swung open.

Sapphire stood in the doorway holding a platter of fruit. She screamed at me in a blind fury. "Dexter! What the hell are you doing?"

The fruit platter slipped from Sapphire's hands, smashing onto the floor and sending shards flying in every direction.

Adam sat on the ground, raising his head as tears welled up in his eyes. "Dexter, why did you push me? I thought you didn't hate me anymore. Why would you push me again?"

I didn't say anything. He was faking it.

I knew he was faking it. His tears were just a simulation programmed into him, and his trembling was nothing more than an algorithm running its course.

Mom rushed over. Her expression shifted from shock to fury in a matter of seconds. "What are you doing? Why on earth did you push Adam?"

"He told me to push him," I replied flatly.

"That's a lie!" Adam sobbed. "Why would I ever ask you to do that? I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday…"

Sapphire knelt and helped Adam up. Her movements were incredibly gentle, as if she were handling a piece of fragile porcelain.

Her head snapped up. She looked at me with disappointment. "You haven't changed at all. You spent three years at the academy and came back acting so compliant, only to show your true colors the second our backs were turned."

She sneered. "I knew it. A leopard never changes its spots. He's been like this since he was a kid. He just can't stand to see Adam happy."

Mom's eyes welled with tears, but not out of sympathy for me—it was pure fury.

"And here we were, talking about how we needed to treat you better. I was actually feeling guilty about sending you to that academy. We were just discussing how to make it up to you."

She took a step closer, jabbed her finger into my chest, and snapped, "And for what? You haven't changed a bit! You're still the same spiteful child who can't tolerate Adam's existence. You pretended to be a good boy for three years just to fool all of us."

I opened my mouth, wanting to tell her that I wasn't pretending. The academy had broken me and remade me this way, and they were the ones who sent me there.

However, the words wouldn't come out because I hadn't received a command to speak.

Mom barked, "Say something!"

"I have not received a command to speak," I replied flatly.

Mom's face turned bright red with rage.

Adam buried his face in her embrace, weeping softly.

"Just go die," Sapphire suddenly blurted out.

The living room fell dead silent for a second.

Dad frowned. "What did you say?"

Sapphire's voice was so loud that the windows practically rattled. "I said I want him to die! Doesn't he follow every single order now? Isn't he so obedient? Then, let him go die! At least we'll finally have some peace if he's gone!"

The moment Sapphire finished her sentence, Adam suddenly collapsed onto the floor. His body convulsed violently, his eyes rolled back, and white foam oozed from the corners of his mouth.

"Adam! Adam, what's happening to you?" Mom shrieked from behind me.

Mom cradled his head, Dad pressed desperately on the philtrum below his nose to revive him, and Sapphire frantically dialed for an ambulance.

Everyone crowded around him. No one looked at me.

I turned away and looked down at the garden below.

I stood in the middle of the living room, watching Adam convulse on the floor, watching Mom, Dad, and Sapphire gather around him.

I whispered, "Command received. Proceeding to die."

Nobody heard me. They were completely consumed by Adam. They crowded around him with heartache and panic etched onto their faces.

I slowly turned around and walked onto the balcony.

A chilly night breeze swept over me.

"Dexter!"

Sapphire was the first to notice me.

Her voice was shrill and piercing as her phone slipped from her hand, clattering to the floor.

Mom whipped her head around too. The color drained from her face in an instant.

"Dex! What are you doing?"

I offered her a faint smile and executed the command without a moment's hesitation.