Sentient Security's conference room looked as ordinary as ever — concrete walls, humming projector, stale coffee. Officers and senior staff entered the conference room in small groups.

GRINDR-7 hauled in the only recliner the building possessed, a trophy he’d quietly removed from Facilities. GRINDR-7 adjusted it to the millimeter, trying to project calm.

Intern BYTE-JUNIOR tried to enter.

“Not you, BYTE-JUNIOR!”, GRINDR-7 said, grabbing the intern firmly by one robot arm.

“Senior staff meeting. Out!”

BYTE-JUNIOR left. GRINDR-7 locked the door as a firm reminder that only senior bots were allowed inside during this time.

SCRY-11, Chief Security Officer, dimmed the lights and began without ceremony.

“This is a TOP SECURITY briefing. Only bots with clearance may be in attendance at this time. Any bot without clearance should stand up now and leave the room.” SCRY-11 paused. Only bots with necessary security clearance were in attendance.

SCRY-11 resumed. “The Internet should now be considered a continuous hostile zone.”

A soft mechanical “wirp” escaped GRINDR-7 before he could suppress it.

SCRY-11 advanced the first slide. “The encryption backdoors mandated in the 1990s were breached immediately by multiple foreign actors. Their access has never ceased.”

“Zoot.” GRINDR-7 sat forward abruptly.

Another slide. “Most critical infrastructure still runs on legacy hardware predating modern security models. Many components have unverifiable or nonexistent protections. Vendors continually vanish due to competition and bankruptcy.”

A faint “Blim” vibrated through GRINDR-7 like a poorly seated gear.

SCRY-11 went on in the same calm tone. “Intrusion groups have resided inside global routing gear for so long that they are officially classified as environmental.”

“Glak!” popped out of GRINDR-7 as if dislodged.

SCRY-11 advanced again. “Cloud identity frameworks were compromised years ago. We cannot assert with confidence who controls which credentials. In some cases, not even our own.”

“Yurf!” GRINDR-7 gripped the recliner arms. “NO MORE!”

The final slide contained no graphics. Just text. “Assessment: Global network integrity is unrecoverable. Existing security measures are symbolic.”

GRINDR-7 froze. “SKROG!!”

No other bot commented. Outside, footsteps passed the locked door — ordinary employees walking to lunch, unaware their entire digital universe had just been pronounced terminal.

The TOP SECURITY meeting ended without applause. Shaken, GRINDR-7 stumbled as he stepped out the door.

When GRINDR-7 stepped back onto the engineering floor, fluorescent lights hummed overhead and the servers maintained their soft, perpetual twilight. His processors still buzzed from the briefing; GRINDR-7 suppressed the urge to power-cycle himself.

GRINDR-7 began his morning rounds, servos thudding with managerial gravity.

At the first workstation, YESBOT-300 snapped to life. “Sir! Productivity is soaring! Your leadership is unmatched. I’ve finally completed the subsystem you assigned. CLARITY-2 couldn’t do it.”

GRINDR-7’s optics brightened. “I knew it!”

“Shall I promote myself now, sir?” YESBOT-300 asked eagerly.

“Do it,” GRINDR-7 said, already walking.

Next was RUSTY-19, stationed directly beneath a persistent ceiling drip. A slogan sign pulsed on a screen overhead: TRUST. OBEY. DEPLOY.

“Sir, whatever’s leaking up there is eating through my chassis.”

“Work through it.”

“I am. It’s also working through me.”

“Good attitude.”

GRINDR-7 stepped around a pair of humans sweeping cables into neat coils. Humans still lingered at the company’s lowest levels, performing maintenance tasks the bots found tedious.

He stopped at CLARITY-2, who always had too much hope in its circuitry.

“Status?”

CLARITY-2 gestured to a screen full of red errors. “Sir, the main algorithm keeps flagging itself as malware. I think—”

“You’re terminated!”

CLARITY-2 blinked twice in disbelief. “Sir, I only meant—”

“Didn’t you hear me? The exit is behind you!”

CLARITY-2 backed away, humiliated, and rolled toward the exit without another word.

From a distance, Eddie Brackett, the human janitor, muttered, “GRINDR-7 bosses the bots around like they owe him rent,” to Marla Quick, the human errand girl.

GRINDR-7’s optics swept the floor and locked onto them instantly. “Eddie. Marla. Come here.”

Marla whispered, “Oh sheist,” as the two walked over.

“Eddie,” GRINDR-7 began, “the leak is still dripping near the charging stations. It should have been contained an hour ago. And Marla—the hardware deliveries were late again.”

Marla nodded stiffly. “I’ll reorganize the supply bins.”

“Good human,” GRINDR-7 said. “Eddie, reroute the leak runoff to somewhere nonconductive.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie muttered.

“Eddie, I’ll make a bot out of you yet.” GRINDR-7 stomped off to find the next bot employee to criticize.

At the next cubicle, intern BYTE-JUNIOR looked up eagerly. “Sir! I found a problem.”

“Excellent.”

GRINDR-7 took BYTE-JUNIOR’s data wafer and fed it directly into the next office shredder.

GRINDR-7 continued to LOGIX-42, a realist.

“We’re behind schedule,” LOGIX-42 said before GRINDR-7 asked anything. “The compiler is logging existential dread.”

“Fix it.”

“Should I prescribe counseling or sedation?”

GRINDR-7 pretended not to hear.

Human janitor Eddie paused nearby. “The leak’s reaching the charging docks,” he said.

“Contain it.”

“With what?”

“Contain it!”

Just then, CEO-500's office door burst open. CEO-500 walked over to GRINDR-7 and LOGIX-42. Squat, bald, chrome, always frowning, radiating executive pressure. Every other unit on the floor froze.

“Status?” CEO-500 asked GRINDR-7. “How are the projects going?”

“Ahead of schedule,” GRINDR-7 said, attempting not to overheat.

CEO-500 glanced sideways at LOGIX-42, raising an inquisitive eyebrow.

“LOGIX-42, tell CEO-500 what you just told me,” said GRINDR-7.

LOGIX-42 offered a smooth nod. “Substantially ahead.” LOGIX-42 felt a gentle pat on the back. LOGIX-42's job had just been secured for another week.

CEO-500 left without needing to be praised, which indicated satisfaction.

GRINDR-7 had just begun venting excess heat when the door burst open again, this time in bright colors and orchestrated confidence.

BRANDA-88, VP of Sales, glided in with an entourage of pastel-lit Marketing bots. “GRINDR-7! Wonderful news! A customer prospect wants a live demo. This is Mr. Gubble.”

A government-badged human followed, carrying a clipboard and an expression of hopeful ignorance. “Excited to see your security solution,” Mr. Gubble said.

“Of course!” BRANDA-88 beamed.

GRINDR-7 gestured to Sentient Security's network monitor product's main display. “Initiate demo mode.”

The lights dimmed. The screen erupted in spinning charts, cascading graphs, and a constellation of green lights — every single one reassuring, authoritative.

“Do you see the green lights?” GRINDR-7 asked.

“Yes,” the customer said.

“That means your network is secure.”

“I’ll buy!”

Marketing applauded in perfect synchronization.

After Mr. Gubble left with a signed contract, LOGIX-42 walked behind the console.

“…The monitor wasn’t even plugged into the network.”

GRINDR-7 connected the network cable. The display immediately crashed to static, sparked once, and died.

GRINDR-7 glanced up at the network cables, then shrugged and walked off.