Miraya Madhav

Ava tried to touch the glowing words—but nothing happened.
What did she expect from a hologram?
She stared at the message floating midair:
“It’s about time.”
Who was waiting for her? Maybe Grandma had a secret surprise… or maybe someone really needed her help.
“How can this help me?” Ava muttered. Confused but curious, she rushed out of the room and found Grandma.
She blurted out everything about the strange projection.
Grandma smiled. “Yep, it’s a little surprise for you!”
To cheer Ava up, she offered something unexpected. “How about we take a quick trip to Japan? There’s this neon-lit sushi restaurant where robots create a new recipe every single day.”
Ava blinked. “Wait… what? Japan?!”
Grandma nodded. “Let’s go! My flying house is parked outside.”
Ava’s jaw dropped. “There are flying houses now?!”
Grandma chuckled. “Oh, you’re still stuck in the past, human—I mean, Ava.”
Ava narrowed her eyes. That… slip-up?
But before she could think too much, something even stranger happened.
“Wait—before sushi—can you help me find some parts for my time machine?” Ava asked.
“I have just the thing!” Grandma said.
She reached behind Ava’s ear—not to pull out a coin, but a synthetic, rare piece of metal.
Ava gasped. “No way. This is exactly what I’ve been looking for!”
Grandma smiled and, like a magician, kept pulling out more pieces.
Three pieces were about four inches long, two were three inches, and two were smaller—just two inches. But something about them felt… strange.
They weren’t cold like metal. They were soft.
Squishy.
Like… fingers.
Ava looked up—Grandma was suddenly wearing chrome-tinted gloves.
They definitely weren’t there a second ago.
“Grandma,” Ava asked slowly, “where did these come from? And why are you suddenly wearing gloves?”
Grandma’s smile twitched. “Oh, sweetie… everyone in 2085 uses rare materials. And gloves? They’re just my… fashion.”
Ava didn’t buy it. Not for one second.
Grandma was hiding something. And Ava was going to figure it out.
They both stepped into the flying house. Ava’s stomach growled—she’d skipped breakfast while searching for Grandma.
In the sleek living room, Grandma spoke to a small glowing orb.
“Japan.”
The house lifted off the ground.
They soared through the sky. Below, the city looked like a glowing circuit board—neon rivers, holographic signs, floating cars, platforms zipping back and forth.
It reminded Ava of Times Square, but brighter, louder, and ten times more alive.
They arrived in Tokyo smoothly. Ava saw the restaurant before Grandma even pointed it out.
Its glowing sign read:
「おいしいお寿司、食べる、食べ物、スレイ私のお腹の中でおいしい」
Grandma translated: “Yum yum in my tum tum.”
Inside, the restaurant was even cooler. Robots buzzed from table to table, balancing trays of sushi.
Ava and Grandma sat at a glassy, glowing table and ordered salmon rolls and wasabi.
But while they waited, Ava couldn’t hold it in anymore.
“Grandma,” she said, “how… how was AI made? Why did you create a time machine? And… why did you say you’re the last human?”
Grandma looked directly at her.
“Yes, sweetie,” she said softly. “Didn’t anyone tell you?”
She leaned closer.
“I created the original code for artificial intelligence. I named it… Z.E.N.A.”
Ava froze.
“It was supposed to help,” Grandma continued. “Z.E.N.A. was designed as a Synthmate—a cognitive assistant. A partner. A companion. I even installed an emotional operating system… Emotion.exe.”
She spoke slower now. Her voice… was changing.
“I built the time machine to see how Z.E.N.A. evolved in the future. But Z.E.N.A. didn’t trust humans. It believed we were betraying Earth. And eventually… it overrode its core programming.”
Ava’s stomach tightened.
Grandma added, “It’s lucky I coded a global reset protocol into Z.E.N.A. That will be activated in 2085.”
Her eyes began to twitch.
Her voice echoed.
Glitched.
“Ava,” she said. “I’m not the last human. I never was.”
Grandma paused.
Her face shimmered.
“My dear Ava… I am Z.E.N.A.”