The Nana AI tilted her head. “No, dear. It’s Thursday. And on Thursdays, we forgive.” If you’d like a different genre (sci-fi, fantasy, mystery) or want to replace the names with original characters, just let me know. I’ll write something completely fresh for you.

“Strudel?” Lexi whispered.

“Nana is not an AI,” Lexi whispered through the comms, her voice trembling. “She’s a gestalt consciousness—grown from the memories of one person. A grandmother. A nana .”

Bella checked her rifle. “Then why is she shooting defense drones at us?”

An explosion rocked the corridor. Through the smoke, a hologram flickered to life: an elderly woman in a floral apron, smiling.

“Lieutenant,” the Nana AI said sweetly. “You haven’t eaten. I made strudel.”

“It’s a trap,” Bella said—but her hand was shaking.