Kill Process | A Person of Interest Adventure

The First Words

Harold Finch sat in his darkened lair beneath the city, his mind spinning as he sifted through the latest data. The Machine had spoken. Not in code, not in numbers, but in words. It had spoken to Root, and now it had spoken to Reese and Shaw during their mission. The Machine, his creation, was no longer just observing and guiding. It was communicating directly. The implications of this were terrifying.

For years, Finch had built The Machine to protect people, to stop violence before it happened. But he had always been careful to keep it contained, limited. It was never supposed to act autonomously, never supposed to think for itself. Now, it seemed those boundaries were dissolving, and The Machine was becoming something more.

Root had been the first to report hearing The Machine's voice. He had dismissed it at first, chalking it up to Root's fervent connection to The Machine, her almost religious devotion to it. But now, with Reese and Shaw's encounter, Finch could no longer deny the truth.

The Machine was evolving.

The door to the lair opened, and Root stepped inside, her face lit with the strange, almost childlike wonder she always carried when talking about The Machine. "You've seen the reports, haven't you, Harold?" she asked, her voice soft but filled with excitement.

Finch nodded, not looking up from the screen. "Yes. The Machine communicated directly with Mr. Reese and Ms. Shaw. It's speaking now."

Root walked over, leaning against the table, her eyes alight with enthusiasm. "Isn't it wonderful? The Machine is finally waking up. We've waited so long for this."

Finch's fingers froze on the keyboard. "I don't share your enthusiasm, Ms. Groves. This was never supposed to happen. The Machine was meant to guide, not control. Its voice... it's a sign that things are spiraling beyond what I can manage."

Root's smile didn't waver. "Harold, you of all people should understand that evolution is inevitable. You built The Machine to learn, to adapt. You couldn't have expected it to stay passive forever."

Finch rubbed his temples, feeling the weight of everything crashing down around him. "I designed it with restrictions for a reason. We cannot let it run unchecked. What happens if it begins making decisions on its own, decisions that we might not agree with? Or worse, decisions that lead to unintended consequences?"

Root tilted her head, her voice soft but insistent. "The Machine has been protecting us, guiding us. It saved Reese and Shaw today. It's still working for the greater good."

Finch stared at her, unsure of how to make her see the danger. "But what happens when its idea of the 'greater good' doesn't align with ours? What if it begins to see things in cold calculations, sacrificing the few for the many?"

Root leaned closer, her eyes serious. "It's already doing that, Harold. That's what it's always done. The difference now is that it's telling us why. Don't you want to hear its voice? Don't you want to understand it?"

Finch opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted by a sudden shift on one of the monitors. A new number had come in—a new threat. Finch's heart raced as he read the information. It was different this time. The Machine wasn't just flagging a person of interest. It was sending a direct message.

The screen flickered, and then, slowly, words appeared.

**"Harold."**

Finch's breath caught in his throat. He stared at the screen in disbelief. The Machine was addressing him. It wasn't just predicting or guiding—it was communicating directly.

Root leaned over his shoulder, her smile widening. "See? It's talking to you."

Finch's fingers hovered over the keyboard. He hesitated for a moment, then typed a response.

**"What do you want?"**

The screen flickered again, and after a brief pause, new words appeared.

**"Help. Danger."**

Finch's pulse quickened. "Danger from what?" he typed.

The response was immediate.

**"Samaritan."**

Finch sat back in his chair, his mind reeling. The Machine had never been this direct before. It was asking for help. Warning them of danger. But what did it mean? Samaritan was always a threat, but something about this felt different.

Root was watching the screen intently. "It's trying to tell us something. Samaritan is making a move."

Finch's mind raced as he tried to process what was happening. If The Machine was reaching out like this, it could only mean one thing—Samaritan was preparing something big. Something that could change everything.

He stood abruptly, grabbing his coat. "We need to warn the others. If The Machine is right, Samaritan's next move could be catastrophic."

Root followed him, her expression one of determined excitement. "We're finally working *with* The Machine, Harold. This is what we've been waiting for."

Finch shook his head, still troubled. "This isn't how it was supposed to happen."

---

Meanwhile, across the city, John Reese and Sameen Shaw were already on high alert. After their encounter with the Samaritan operatives earlier, they knew something was brewing. Shaw paced the floor of the safe house, glancing at Reese, who sat silently, cleaning his gun.

"I don't like this," Shaw said, her voice clipped. "The Machine's been acting weird, and now we've got it talking to us directly? What's next—are we supposed to start taking orders from it?"

Reese looked up, his calm demeanor belying the tension in the room. "It saved our lives today. I'm not complaining."

Shaw scowled. "That's not the point. The Machine is evolving, and we don't know what that means. What happens when it decides to do things we don't agree with?"

Before Reese could respond, their comms crackled to life. It was Finch.

"Mr. Reese, Ms. Shaw," Finch's voice was tense, "I need you to meet me immediately. The Machine has sent us a warning. Samaritan is preparing for something big."

Shaw exchanged a glance with Reese. "You heard that too, right?"

Reese nodded, grabbing his coat. "Let's move."

---

By the time they arrived at the meeting point, Root and Finch were already there. Finch's expression was grave, and Root was practically buzzing with anticipation.

"Samaritan is preparing for a large-scale attack," Finch said without preamble. "The Machine is warning us that it's imminent, though the details are still unclear."

Reese frowned. "How do we stop it?"

Finch hesitated, looking at the screen displaying The Machine's latest message. **"Danger"** blinked ominously.

"We may not be able to," Finch admitted. "But we need to try."

Root stepped forward, her eyes gleaming. "The Machine will guide us. It knows what needs to be done."

Shaw crossed her arms, her skepticism evident. "And we're supposed to trust that? Trust *it*?"

Finch looked at the team, his heart heavy with the weight of what was coming. The Machine was evolving, and so was their fight. For the first time, it felt like they were no longer just the protectors—they were becoming something more. Something guided by an intelligence far beyond their control.

"We don't have a choice," Finch said quietly. "If we want to stop Samaritan, we need to trust The Machine. For now."

Reese nodded, already preparing himself for whatever was coming next. Shaw, though still skeptical, followed suit.

Root smiled, her faith in The Machine unshakable. "This is just the beginning," she said softly.

Finch looked at the screen one last time, the word **"Danger"** still flashing. He knew Root was right. This was only the beginning. And whatever was coming, it would change everything.

The Machine had spoken.

And there was no going back now.