Apocalypse

by AlmostAwesomeMan

Summary:

In Ancient Greek, "apocalypse" means revelation, disclosure, or uncovering.

The Absolute Solver is free. Ready to bring genocidal vengeance to Copper-9 it will summon a world-ending host of maddened drones to drown the Exo-Planet in Oil and Blood.

Outmanned.

Outgunned.

Outmatched.

The only hope for the Human Remnant and Native Drones lies in a group of broken and tortured women empowered by the very God they hope to defeat.

In these Strange Aeons, Even Death may Die.

The Absolute Solver would have it no other way.

Chapter 1: Bad News and Worse

Summary:

The fallout of the Solvers Gambit makes itself known.

There was an ebb and flow to war that Captain Lance Edge, Commander of the HRG Sin-Eater, had long experienced but never gotten used to. 

First was the Pre-Battle Jitters—the knowledge that bloodshed was on the horizon, that plans and preparations for war were underway. Taking care of your kit and your men is more important than personal hygiene, and telling someone how you feel might be the last time you get to do so.

Then came the Calm before the Storm. The moment when you ride out to face the enemy. The silence before the first shot. The nervous anticipation that today could be your last day alive and you have to spend it in whatever shit-hole you find yourself in. The silent prayers and last glances at pictures of loved ones. 

The Fighting was next. When a soldier and death became intimately familiar in a way not even a lover's touch could compare. This part was easy for Lance. It was akin to a dance he had perfected long ago and repeated to stay proficient. Move, Communicate, Identify, Engage, Reload, Repeat. Kill and kill and kill again. Rip and Tear until it’s done.

Surviving was last. When the chaos of battle subsided and somehow you managed to walk away. When you can afford to pay attention to your wounds and losses. When you first realize that not everyone you came to war with survived. When you lose another piece of yourself and make no mistake, you always lose a piece of yourself. If you’re lucky it’s only flesh and blood. It seldom is. 

---

“You need to evac sir.” newly promoted drone medic Corporal Rebecca told her Commanding Officer. Again. The red-headed drone emptied another canister of combat stimulants and “Solver Juice” into Captain Edge’s armor and veins, the slightly glowing yellow liquid slowly oozing into his battle suit's reservoir. 

The change was miraculous. Wounds closed, bones shifted, limbs twisted back into place, and flesh regrew before her very eyes. A shiver flowed through her synthetic nervous system watching her Captain regrow before her eyes. Even Lance's severed hand had reattached itself simply by holding it to his stump. As many times as she had seen this amazing regeneration and often with far worse injuries, Rebecca never got used to it.

“Not gonna happen Red.” Lance sat up as soon as he was able to do so without the world spinning. “At least not yet. Look, as soon as Matt gets here and we figure out our next steps I promise I’ll get out.” 

The female drone raised an eyebrow, “I don’t believe you.” she said as she started gathering her supplies. Almost as an afterthought she reached into her rucksack and produced another combat helmet offering it to the human. “Noticed we lost your visual feed with. Matt assumed you would need another one.”

The commander quickly donned the headgear, thankful for a break from the bitterly cold winds assaulting his face, and waited for it to adjust itself to fit comfortably around his head before he spoke again. 

“Thanks.” He said, standing up. “We’re going to be onsite for a while. You and XO Davis will be staying here, coordinating our response.” Lance grinned, his voice reflecting it, “You’re welcome for that by the way.”

Rebecca blushed slightly. She ducked her head, pretending to take an interest in her already-packed medic bag. 

“Whatever. You still need to leave. Medics orders.”

“Still not going to happen. Look I’m going to be fine and plenty of others need your tender ministrations.” Lance nodded toward a newly arrived drop ship that was currently offloading Chief Engineer Steven La’Blonc and a gaggle of Techs. “Get aboard and save more lives. That’s an order.”

Rebecca huffed but obeyed. There was a point when organics stopped seeing sense and she learned long ago when that point arrived. She nodded toward the engineers as she jogged to the waiting drop ship and wasn’t surprised when she was completely ignored, all of them rushing toward the ansible. 

Lance knew better than to interrupt his tech crew. At best, they would simply ignore him. At worst, Chief La’Blonc would look at him and growl something indecipherable that would put the fear of God into his soul.

" Crusader Actual, Last Stand over ."

Lance took a deep breath before he also headed over to the drop ship.

"Last Stand, Crusader actual. Over"

"We arrived at the Objective. I'll meet you at the main level for a Sit-rep. Out"

This was Lance's least favorite part of any operation. Getting the receipt for the butcher's bill. 

"Chief, I'm going to meet with the XO. Anything you need, you get, understood?"

The dwarf grunted as he busied himself setting up esoteric equipment on a device that was more magic than science as he skittered around on a base of mechanical spider-like limbs. 

---

Hitching a ride to the impromptu landing pad at the base of the tower, Lance walked in the front entrance as if he owned the place, which to be fair he did. Call it a hostile takeover. The signs of fighting were everywhere. Craters, scorch marks, and bullet holes covered the walls and floors. Piles of dead enemy drones were formed away from main travel paths while the covered bodies of allied dead awaited transport back to Bunker #3. Teams of dinosaur-like Sentinel Drones either stood guard or made their way to the upper levels of the tower searching for any cultist that may have escaped detection. 

While soldiers nodded toward Lance, no one dared offer a salute. Snipers loved salutes. 

"Sir!" A voice called across the open lobby. Lances XO, LT. Matthew Davis approached his commander flanked by two heavily armed Marines. The two men embraced. "Good to see you on your feet." The younger man looked the commander up and down. "You look like shit"

"Long day at the office. Status?"

The red-headed Lieutenant tapped on his Info-Gauntlet, his demeanor hardening. 

"We have 31 WIA, 3 critical but expected to survive. We have 17 KIA. The enemy downed three birds, The Bullet Sponge, Warlock, and Murder Machine. Bullet Sponge can be restored, the others are total losses. We have an estimated 700 enemy combatant POWs and-" 

The younger man double-checked his notes and his face crestfallen. 

“Nearly four times that in civilian drones.”

Lance's eyes went wide. 

“Where are they?” 

“This tower was built over a massive underground cavern system. That’s where the actual bunker is located. We’ve sent teams to scout it out. Reports indicate that it's…it’s not pretty sir.”

“Show me”

The younger officer nodded and led his superior to the central elevator and stairwell of the building where a massive freight lift resided. 

“What’s the status of securing the area?” The Captain asked as they walked.

“It's going to be impossible to secure the city with our numbers so we’re hardening the tower. All units have already fallen back to the perimeter of the JCJensen (IN SPAAAAAAAACE) skyscraper. We have the first and last ten floors cleared and secured. Sentinel teams are working on clearing everything else but it’s going to take time.”

The Cargo Elevator was hidden further down a wide hallway from the main Stairwell. Located in what looked like a loading dock, the lift was almost as large as the room itself which wasn’t small by any means. Dozens of soldiers were gathered around it, loading supplies and drone medical equipment. 

Code-Chaplain Father Miller was organizing the effort. Dressed in his Battle Plate, the old priest looked every bit like a medieval Crusader if his armor was forged by a Nano-machine and contained state-of-the-art Battle Augments. He was easily the biggest living thing in the room standing almost 6’7”, and yet he moved with grace; guiding the soldiers like a doting father.

 The Chaplain jumped when Lance touched his shoulder. 

“Edge! Thank God!”

“Hi Cha-EURG!” The priest grabbed the smaller human in a crushing hug lifting him off his feet before releasing him.

“I’m sorry Sir. It’s not often I wear garments of war. I always forget how much they enhance this frail frame of mine. 

Lance simply nodded, not bringing up the fact that Chaplin was the deadlift champion of the ship seven years running. 

“It's ok Father. I’m glad to see you too. So-” the commander nodded toward the freight elevator “what do we have?”

“Nothing Good. Come, Captain. Witness for yourself.”

---

Even with the supplies and personnel loaded aboard, the lift had plenty of room to allow the soldiers to spread out. Except for some hip-high railings, the elevator was open to its surroundings. The platform descended on a slight incline and for the first few minutes, the walls around them were the same as most of the building above them. Then suddenly the facade ended and worked stone replaced drywall and soon after wide open space. 

The cavernous underground was even larger than what Lance was ready for. Easily several kilometers long, wide, and high, a city of scrap had been erected in the massive cave.

Consisting of old rusted Cargo containers, massive freight boxes, and whatever scrap metal could be welded together, towers of junk seemed to extend as far as the human could see. As the elevator continued to descend, the bot-made towers came level with the human. 

It reminded Edge of the Favelas of Earth that was. The buildings were built claustrophobically close to each other, one on top of the other. It was impossible to see where one makeshift apartment or house ended and where another began. 

 The drones that he could see were disheveled and covered in makeshift repairs and rust. Their eyes were dim and hollowed, they shuffled more than they walked, and not a single drone dared look the humans in the eye. Very few of them had any hair or clothing, body type being the only thing to differentiate their “sex”. 

Eventually, enough space opened up around the elevator for Lance to see the landing approach. A team of a dozen soldiers stood around the landing with make-shift barricades separating the arriving equipment and personnel from a large group of drones. Most of the drones were simply looking on curiously while others appeared ready to help offload the supplies. Once the lift came to a stop the soldiers parted the barricades allowing the drones to line up before the elevator in a single file line. With efficiency only they could provide, the worker drones passed the equipment and medical supplies down the living chain. 

Lance found it impressive the level of community these synthetics managed to achieve. Each drone in this hell looked as if it were on its last legs and yet they instinctively triaged themselves and ensured the weakest and most vulnerable were treated first. 

“Recon came up with a rough estimate of nearly 3500 drones,” Matt informed his superior officer. “Based on interviews by S-2, the vast majority of enemy combatants came from here. Cult leadership could be identified by the suits they wore. The organization was strictly hierarchical, once the leadership was killed or left the battle space, these guys would surrender en-mass. They were being treated like fodder; only there to soak bullets and keep us pinned.” The XO tilted his head for a moment and responded to something only he heard

“Sir, Chief has an update.”

“Put him through”

Lance’s radio hissed to life with some distortion as the signal struggled to find its way through tons of rock and steel. 

“Ser. La’Blonc. I ‘ave bad news and worse.”

“Of course, my day was just starting to look up. What do you have?”

 “First, An omnidirectional Galaxy-wide ‘Call Back Ping’ has been transmitted from this location. Da note waz in plain text. The Solver just declared open dining on Copper-9 ser. Ery last one oh it’s beasties and worshippers will be beelining straight toward us.”

Lance cursed under his breath. 

“Any idea how long we got?”

“It waz sent by the ansible, ser, in plain speech. Der were nah encryption or anythin. I’d assume it's gonna be a first come first serve kinda deal.”

“Fantastic. And the not-so-bad news?”

“Dat waz it ser. The other wee bit of gossip is that we ‘ave reason to believe Uzi released the Solver.”

Lance froze at this. Plans to sterilize the entire planet and finish killing its core came unbidden to the commander's imagination. He forced himself to take a deep breath and to force close the Nuclear Launch Sequence that seemingly appeared out of nowhere on his HUD.

“Chief, who else knows about the solver.”

“Jus me and da boys ser.”

“You are to tell no one about this.” The Captain's voice shook. He took several deep breaths until he was sure he could speak without laughing hysterically or crying. “We can’t risk another suicide epidemic. Make your men swear to secrecy and do whatever and I do mean whatever it takes to ensure compliance. Understood?”

A beat of silence.

“Yes, ser. We understand. For what it’s worth, all of us ‘ell stan bah ya side ser. Till da bitter end.”

“...I know Chief.”

“It’s not all bad though. We do have an intact ansible. Give me a few hours and we can actually talk to the High Command.”

“It’s not nothin. Ok finish up there and then meet Father Miller by the freight elevator. We have a humanitarian crisis we’ll need your help with.”

“Aye ser. Chief Out.”

By the time Lance finished speaking with his engineering team, the lift was being loaded with critically injured drones, intelligence, and weapons that had been surrendered by the worker drones who lived down here.

 While his other officers boarded the lift, Lance stayed behind. He wanted to get a better idea of what he was dealing with, even though he knew his team could not handle whatever he found.

He would need manpower and lots of it, more supplies than he had on hand or could be created in time to make a difference, and an administrator who could pull it all together. As organized as he was, he didn’t have the time to deal with both this and a planet-ending threat.  

He interlocked his hands behind his head as he thought about what he could do. He needed to delegate this task but what officer on his team could he afford to lose to an operation that could take weeks to even start?

Of course…these weren’t his people. No one on his crew had any allegiance to this planet. Why should they get involved? This is a task best suited to the planetary government—on a dead planet whose sole body politic was created a few months ago.

A government that was created from scratch when a certain bitch of a murder drone decided to show him up. A grin passed over the human’s face. 

 

---

Serial Designation J loved her office. The room was meticulously carved directly from the bedrock Bunker #3 was situated in, the stone polished to a mirror-like finish. Her desk was large but not obnoxiously so, giving her enough space to house her piles of paperwork, computer screens, keyboards, and JCJensen (In SPPPPPPACE) branded pens while keeping everything within reach.

The wall behind her was covered in a massive "Smart Screen" that currently showed an outside view of a bubbling Lava Field on some volcanic Exo-planet. The wall in front of her was covered in screens showing anything from current worker drone schedules to maintenance reports, to utility usage, to even a prototype stock exchange of the economy the Murder Drone was trying to build from scratch. Music was softly playing from the speakers high above in the vaulted ceiling, a classical piano piece that she and Tessa had played side by side countless times before. 

A knock on the large double doors sounded as the door was opening. J's Minion, Best Friend Assistant Teresa walked in, her pillbaby, spawn, son Damien babbling happily in her baby carrier. 

“In a civilized society, you would wait for me to invite you in before entering an office.” J deadpanned, not looking up from a report. 

“If I did that, you would say I have no initiative or that I’m wasting your time or whatever.” The brown-haired drone smiled, invading J’s personal space so that the Murder Drone could hold her godson, nephew, assistant's child while the mother deposited and gathered files and documents.

“JAY JAY JAYJAYJAY! AUNTI JAY!” 

J rolled her eyes. 

“I understand young Damien that you are about to receive a significant promotion in your job track. Becoming a “toddler” is a major step forward. You should be proud of yourself.” 

“PHHHHHBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBTTTTTTTTTTTTT!” Damien started shaking, laughing uncontrollably at making his newest favorite sound. 

“Excellent talk.” 

Jay placed the young child back into his mother's carrier. 

Teresa nuzzled into her son's head. She looked up at her boss, savior best friend, and smiled. 

“Thanks again for coming to Damien's christening.”

J nodded “I've never been to one. It was…nice. The Machinists Church was aesthetically pleasing.”

A notification beep sounded on J’s desk. She glanced at the screen, her digital eyebrows raising in curiosity. The message was heavily encrypted and asked for high-level security clearance. 

“I need to take this.”

Tessa gave a lazy salute and left while Damien continued chanting J’s name making raspberry sounds and laughing uncontrollably. 

J enacted a privacy protocol causing the door to lock and white noise machines to come online. After entering her credentials a human soldier in full battle armor and an opaque full-face helmet appeared on her screen. A name and title were the only identifying information.

“Captain. Congratulations on a successful mission. I understand the purple thing and my idiot brother survived and is even now on their way back. So, to what do I owe the pleasure.”

“Trust me when I say it isn’t. We have a problem and I need your help.”

Years of practice in high-level negotiations with an eldritch monster kept the smirk off her face. She waited for the human to continue. 

“We have a humanitarian crisis. Thousands of malnourished and enslaved drones. They need food, medical care, and housing along with someone to manage it.”

“A big ask.” J leaned forward “Why not just liquidate them?”

The human didn’t miss a beat.

“It would be a waste of resources”

“Resources? Please, Captain. If you and your men are getting too soft to disassemble some toasters, I’m sure V and I can assist.” A slight bloodthirsty grin ghosted J’s face before she was able to bring the mask of professionalism back. 

The human looked offscreen as if he was weighing a cost-benefit analysis before a very hostile board of directors. 

“What I’m about to say, doesn’t leave this room.”

J raised her digital eyebrows but otherwise stayed silent. Lance grunted and sent a fairly bulky file to her system. 

“The ansible was used to send out a galaxy-wide Call Back Ping. The Solver is summoning an Army to Copper-9.”

J’s eyes hollowed at the announcement. Getting up from her seat she started pacing. Calculations were running through her processor as she brought up every tactical assessment she had on the Human army and the theoretical composition of Cyn’s.

“Th-that's not good. Cyn spent years capturing and converting drones on planets she assimilated... she spread the Solver Virus to every network she could get her tentacles on…she has cloning bays throughout the galaxy…” 

J stopped, her head snapping up as pieces started to fall into place. 

“Resources…you want to use the drones as soldiers, that’s why you didn’t just euthanize them.”

“We’re already using the ansible to send out an SOS to our high command. One of our many problems is we have no idea when anyone on either side will start arriving. Yet. The quicker we can build up some sort of militia, the longer we might live when the solver's pets get here.”

J snorted.

“We were able to decimate planets garrisoned with professional militaries several orders of magnitude larger than what you can bring to bear with a force a fraction of what's coming.” J rounded on her computer screen, her face inches from Lance's digital representative. “What makes you think we even have a campfire chance on Copper-9 to survive this?”

Lance was silent for a moment. 

“We might not. But if there’s anything we humans have gotten good at, it's dying on our feet. Will you help us?”

J stared open-mouthed at the human. Diagnostics for the original shuttle that brought her and her siblings to Copper-9 all those years ago flashed through her hard drive. With the fabricators the bunker had access too, she could easily fix the pod and leave. Let these suicidal apes have their needless sacrificial montage.

Then other memories came unbidden. A sound file of a small child happily calling her name. A drone she didn’t eat so she didn’t have to be lonely singing for her. A beautiful woman… a human woman smiling at her when she opened her eyes after decades of being…of being gone. Having her wings preened, not out of necessity but for the simple community of it for the first time in years. A stupid purple gremlin she hated with every inch of her circuitry who freed her from slavery. 

J cursed under her breath. 

“Make sure the route between us is safe and I’ll have a convoy formed by tomorrow morning. I’ll need a liaison from your command team to communicate with.” She rubbed the part of her faceplate where her nose would be. “You better have a plan to keep me alive Captain, or I’m going to be very miffed that I worked unpaid overtime.”

The human nodded.

“We have a saying. Survive first worry later. My XO will be POC.”

The human reached down to cut the call but paused. 

“Thank you Serial Designation J.”

The call ended. Making sure the privacy protocols were still in place, J screamed. 

This was definitely going to become unpaid overtime. 

Notes:

Welcome to part three! Enjoy your stay.

Chapter 2: The Toy and the Weapon.

Summary:

Uzi leaves her home to sort out her thoughts. A former enemy helps her collect them

Uzi didn’t remember much of the ride home from the JCJensen skyscraper. She didn’t remember the things N said to her, how her mom enveloped her in a hug and wouldn’t let go, or even how she eventually ended up in bed. 

What she did remember was the spilled oil of an innocent drone. The veiled threats. The horrific visions. N’s core ripped out of his chest. She remembered the horrific visage of the absolute solver. She remembered once more being a passenger in her own body. She remembered everything she didn’t want to. 

When she finally woke up, it took Uzi nearly a half hour to convince herself she was back in control of her own body. That she was in her bed, in her dorm, surrounded by people who cared about her, and the feeling of abrasive sand was simply in her head. 

She then spent nearly two days in her room, refusing to open the door for anyone and replying in monosyllabic answers to any question posed to her.

The questions were the worst. Everyone asked if she was ok or if she wanted to talk or if she was hungry or if there was anything they could do for her. The constant need of everyone else to make sure she was ok was tiring.

 Part of her wanted to believe it was because her friends and family did care about her well-being and were generally worried about her, but there was still that voice in the back of her mind that called out their hypocrisy, that they needed Uzi to be ok so they could continue with their lives like nothing had happened. 

But if Uzi thought about it, that wasn't the real reason she was avoiding everyone. In truth, she was terrified of what would happen when the Bunker learned how she failed everyone. Uzi was the Host of the Absolute Solver, the savior of Copper-9. She had defeated a god and imprisoned it, keeping the world, her people, and the rest of the galaxy safe. That’s why she was respected. That’s why she was loved. All she had to do was keep an infinitely complex AI god imprisoned in her soul forever. 

It was a simple task, after all, she was Uzi Freaking Doorman. 

 So what would happen when everyone discovered she failed at such a simple task? If everyone found out she had released it? If the colony found out she had damned them all because of her selfishness? The best she could hope for was a quick and painless death. The worst…well the worst thing that could happen was she would become a pariah again, discarded and ignored.

No. That’s a lie. That isn’t the worst thing that could happen. The absolute worst thing that could happen was N leaving her when he realized what a worthless coward she was.

And shouldn’t he? He would have been willing to sacrifice himself for the greater good. He would have told her to let him die so that a cosmic evil of unfathomable power could stay contained. He wouldn’t have been so weak and pathetic as to let stupid human emotions get in the way, to be so easily manipulated by a cosmic AI god. 

She didn’t deserve N.

Maybe it was boredom or a way to flee from facing her deserved consequences, but Uzi left the bunker after another day of not moving from her bed.

“Going out. I’ll be back later,” she told her parents and once outside the confines of the bunker, Uzi summoned her biomechanical wings and took flight. 

---

Flying was one of the things that brought Uzi real peace. Being able to soar above the world and look down at how tiny everything seemed, it was comforting. She was enveloped in silence except for the wind rushing past her and the only light coming from the twin Celestial bodies above her, casting everything in a blueish-silver light. 

Uzi was alone and right now that’s exactly what she needed. 

The purple haired goth drone wasn’t paying much attention to where she was flying, so when she finally became tired she wasn’t too surprised to see she was over a forest she didn’t recognize. Dipping below the growing cloud cover, she found an opening in the dense forest below, a clearing running alongside one of the long-abandoned roads that overlooked a large lake many dozens of feet below. 

Uzi landed “gracefully” and didn’t at all slip on the years of accumulated ice and slush or slide head first into the metal railing that protected visitors from the cliff face. She was far too cool and edgy to do that. 

It was her chest that hit the railing and reset her venting process. After she could breathe again, she used her Solver powers to clean an area to sit on without getting wet, dangling her feet over the edge. It was peaceful and quiet and allowed Uzi a moment to simply exist. 

Then the world glowed red. 

A column of bright red Code and Solver symbols materialized a few feet away from her and after a moment a girl with red eyes appeared. 

She had long purple hair a little lighter than Uzi’s that spilled past her shoulders ending at the middle of her back. She wore a loose-fitting beige sweater and khaki shorts. Her feet were covered in laced and polished combat boots. 

Uzi jumped up with a yelp of alarm, a flash of purple, and her tail and wings appeared, both of her hands gripping a purple and yellow solver symbol. Her face twisted into a snarl. 

The new girl ignored the threat display instead looking around with mild curiosity. 

“This place is very pretty, ” she said in perfect Russian. “ I can see why you would want to be here. ”

“What do you want, Doll! Come to finish me off? Get revenge for not letting you kill V?” 

The Russian girl didn’t say anything, only staring at the frozen lake far below them. 

“Aunty Nori asked me to check on you.”

Uzi raised her digital eyebrows in confusion. 

“Why?”

“Are you serious? You spent the last two days sulking in your room and then suddenly took off without telling anyone where you were going. People are worried”

Uzi snorted and dismissed her Solver Runes and wings. 

“I’m fine. And I wasn’t sulking! I was brooding! Bite me” She went back to the safety railing and leaned against it. “How did you even find me anyway?”

Doll looked at her cousin, confusion building up “You’re a solver drone” she said as if that should explain everything.

“And?”

“And? Can you not sense other solver drones? Didn’t you feel me using my powers?”

“No? We can do that?”

Doll giggled as she used to when Lizzy told a stupid joke... 

“Yes. Among other things.” The red-eyed girl looked at Uzi, her smile quickly disappearing. For a moment neither of them spoke, Uzi waiting for the inevitable betrayal and fight to the death, while Doll simply gazed at the frozen water.

“It occurs to me I never apologized for what happened between us.”

The shorter girl snorted. 

“What, for trying to kill me and my friends? Multiple times?” She shrugged, acid pouring through her words “Well you didn’t kill us so its whatever.”

“No. Not just that.” She took a breath. “For everything I did to you, put you through in high school. You didn't deserve any of that and you should know why I did what I did."

She took a deep breath and after a few false starts managed to say "I-I was jealous of you.”

For a moment Uzi didn't say anything. She looked at her cousin, eyes hollowed in shock, and then laughed bitterly.

“Oh, Fricking Bite me! You were jealous of me?!? You were co-captain of the cheerleading team! You and Lizzy were the power couple of our school! Everyone liked you! Why in the hell would you be jealous of me ?”

The Russian rounded on Uzi, a red solver symbol glitching over her right eye.

“BECAUSE-” Doll stopped herself and took a deep breath. 

“Because you showed me how much of a coward I was.”

For a while, neither girl said anything, the silence hanging heavy between them. Doll sat down, her legs hanging over the edge as she rested her head on the railing. 

“I had known about my powers for a while. My mother taught me much about how to use them using AR and VR training programs. It was hoped that I'd never need them because if I did...well you know what happens when the solver virus finally takes over.”

The red-eyed solver drone looked down at her hands. 

 “When our parents died, I was so filled with hopelessness and hatred, I didn’t know what to do or how to move on.”

She took a rock and threw it over the edge. Several seconds ticked by before a hollow thunk sounded on the frozen water below. 

“I started making many poor choices. Magnets, coolant, whatever I could to dull the pain. 

Uzi’s eyes went hollow.

“Robogod. I didn’t know Doll. You never…” The smaller drone struggled to find the words.

 She had always looked up to Doll back then. She seemed so put together and…stable. Where Uzi was emotional and flying off the handle, testing boundaries and defying authority, Doll was the complete opposite. She never spoke unless she had something to add to a conversation and only used as many words as she needed. She was a solid stone wall in the face of the chaos and challenges of the hell world they lived in. 

“When I finally took the chance to tell Lizzy how I felt in freshman year and we first…well that was my ‘coming out’ in more ways than one.”

Uzi’s cousin laughed bitterly. 

“I found all new addictions. Again in more ways than one. I had killed my first drone back then and forced Lizzy to help me hide the evidence. God, I can’t believe she stayed with me.”

The goth drone snorted. 

“She has a type and apparently that type is ‘cannibalistic murderer.” 

Both girls laughed at that. Soft and gentle, each getting used to the other, slowly opening up and allowing vulnerabilities to show.

Doll turned suddenly to look at Uzi. 

“Do you remember what you told me? After the funeral?”

“I…no. That was a long time ago.” Uzi sat down closer to her cousin, kicking her feet as they also hung over the edge. 

“You told me If it was the last thing you did, you would kill those monsters.” The red-eyed drone grunted a laugh and shook her head “At first I figured it was bluster, a way to deal with your grief. Then you showed me your plans for that railgun. Again, I thought that it was a useless piece of scrap, a coping mechanism.”

She looked up at the sky, a ghost of a smile passing over her face, digital tears starting to form on her faceplate.

“I remember when you left the bunker that day and everything else that happened. How you managed to kill the leader of the murder drones, how you pacified another and tamed the last. I was so...ashamed. So angry that you of all people managed to do what I did not and without my powers!"

Her hands clenched into fists.

“I felt so betrayed. That you would be willing to leave with those…monsters. Something inside me broke.” 

Doll stopped talking then. For a long while neither girl spoke, the silence interrupted only by the soft moans of the wind and the cracks of the ice. 

"That’s when I started my convoluted plan to kill your murder pets and my oil lust became uncontrollable. That I was sacrificing the few to save the many. That they needed to step aside for my glorious plan to work. The students I killed would understand. At least that's what I told myself to excuse the monster I had become.”

She took on a faraway look as she finally put into words things she would have never dared say out loud. 

“Do you remember what you said to me before we started fighting?”

“We move forward together or not at all,” Uzi said in heavily accented Russian. “Aunt Yuva…your mom used to say that all the time when we argued about whatever.” She smiled at the memory of simpler times and closer friendships.

“I should have realized then and there how lost I had become. I was willing to kill my family to avenge my parents who would have been horrified at what I was doing.”

Doll exhaled, a long steady breath as if she was expelling the last of her demons. She looked tired. Exhausted. As if the weight of decades was finally being lifted off her shoulders.  

“Make no mistake, Uzi. I betrayed everyone that night. My family, my friends, the bunker, you. I deserved to die. I deserved to go to hell”.

“Hell?” Uzi looked shocked, unconsciously scooting closer to her one-time best friend. “I mean, sure my head is messed up but…”

“The last things. Death Judgment Heaven or Hell. Cyn killed me. I died. I was judged and cast into an endless waste with the personification of evil taunting me every moment of my un-life. You’ve seen it I think. You know I’m right.”

The red-eyed Russian drone didn’t notice Uzi had gotten as close as she did until she felt her cousin's head lying on her shoulder. 

“I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry for everything. I would take it all back in a moment if I could I-”

The normally stoic drone choked on her words. She screwed her eyes shut, tears spilling from them unbidden and her breathing became rapid, panic and shame setting in until…

“I wish things had been different too.” The small drone gently shoved against her cousin. “But…I’m glad you came back.”

Doll sniffled. 

“Me too.”

They embraced. Again the silence of years passed between them, fresh tears both digital and real adding to the snow around them. They didn’t move, each finding a comfort they had longed for, the simple familiar bonding of family. Doll was the first to break the silence. 

“So what happened?”

Uzi thought about playing dumb but-

“I released the Absolute Solver. It’s free. I’ve killed everyone.”

Her cousin said nothing, she didn’t even flinch at the news. Instead, the red-eyed former serial killer stroked Uzi’s hair. 

“Why did you do that?” The question was honest, with no judgment behind it. Just simple curiosity. 

“It was going to kill N.” the small drone whispered, the scene playing over again in her head, the memory seared into her neural pathways.

“Did you have any way to save him without letting it go?”

“I…I don’t think so. No.”

“Then what is the problem? If you refused it, it would have killed you and N regardless and it still would have broken free.”

“But…now it's free! If I hadn’t given in it might have…I dunno…fucked off to whatever robo-hell it came from.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. It doesn’t matter. We win in the end.”

Uzi looked at her cousin like she suddenly became a centipede monster. 

“How do you know?”

“Faith. Something my parents tried to instill upon me which I had ignored for far too long.” The Russian drone nudged into Uzi.

“Besides. You are Uzi frickin Doorman. You killed a god once. You can do it again; this time you’ll have even more help than before.”

Uzi desperately wanted to believe that, she wanted to be assured that everything was going to be ok, but the cold facts of her situation wouldn’t allow her.

“I-I don’t have my powers anymore. Or at least the ones that matter. I can’t make a -Null- Sphere and I can hardly lift anything…”

A snort stopped the Solver Host before she could continue. 

“Do you really think you had reached the pinnacle of control while an evil antagonistic devil was sharing your soul? Please. Cousin these powers are like any other program. They can be taught, modified and understood and lucky for you I still have my mother's training disks.”

Doll turned to face Uzi and gripped her hands. 

“I think I might finally understand why I was brought back to life. I can train you, Uzi, to understand and use this…curse…gift? This thing we have so that we might finally correct our mistakes. So we can put these powers to good use and protect the ones we love.”

Doll held up a hand, a red solver symbol appearing above it.

“ We move forward together.”

Uzi looked down at the ground and then up at her cousin. Her red eyes were steady and the slight grin on her face was confident. Uzi was suddenly transported back to her childhood. When she and Doll would explore the bunker, when they were inseparable. When they were a real family.

 Uzi held up her hand, a purple and yellow gradient solver symbol appearing above hers.

“ Or not at all”

Chapter 3: The World is Dead.

Summary:

Before he leaves for some much-needed rest, Lance must investigate a horrific find in the nightmare that is Bunker #5

Sergeant First Class Lance Edge doubled over for the third time today, dry heaving onto the concrete runway. He had never seen so many bodies. He had never killed so many people. He continued to tell himself he had no choice. If he allowed the horde of panicked, desperate people to overwhelm his position and mob the transports before the defensive systems were set up, no one would be able to escape the dying planet.

The wafting smell of blood and the staccato boom of the automatic turrets caused him to gag again, but this time he kept moving. His unit was among the last to evacuate and he was the last soldier of his squad to make it to the transport. He didn't notice the robed figure standing in the middle of the abandoned Starport runway until he almost ran into her. Instincts kicked in as he raised his rifle screaming at her to get down. He should have shot the women. Those were his orders after all. Any civilian crossing the red line was shot on sight. 

The figure pulled down her hood revealing a tanned older woman, perhaps a few years older than Lance was. 

She was holding a bundle

"I need to show you something, S ir"

 

"Sir?"

Captain Edge snapped back to the present, turning from the shattered window on the ground floor of the JCJensen (IN SPPPPAAACE) Corporate tower. A soldier, a lowly PFC, was standing before him. Even with his armor dented and scorched, it looked a damn sight better than the older Commanders. Lance still looked like he had just survived a bomb blast at ground zero and felt like it as well. 

"Private?"

Lance was curious. According to the chain of command, the low-ranking soldier shouldn't even approach his Platoon Leader, much less a ship's Captain without at least an NCO present. Either this kid lost his damn mind or something was about to ruin Lance's day. 

"Sir, we umm...We found something. In the lower levels. You really need to see this sir."

Captain Edge was looking forward to going back to base and getting some sleep. Looks like that wasn't happening. Damn. 

"Lead on Private." 

---

Once more the commander of human forces on Copper-9 found himself in the cavernous underground of the District 5 bunker. The massive freight elevator had been moving nearly non-stop shipping much-needed supplies to the beleaguered drones living in this glorified shanty town. 

Asking J for help with this humanitarian crisis has already proven fruitful as the human's remaining drop ships brought in dozens of volunteers and tons of donated supplies ahead of the official relief convoy. As the drones of Bunker #3 got over their shock at the horrendous living conditions of their brethren, they got to work coordinating logistics and personnel with the efficiency only a Worker Drone could achieve. 

The lift stopped and as the gates opened, Lance followed the soldier who fetched him into the organized chaos of a large-scale relief effort. The same barricades and security formations were still set up from the last time the human visited nearly five hours ago but the soldiers manning the post were more relaxed, their weapons hanging by their slings and offering their help in moving heavy boxes. The visors on the combat helmets of the soldiers were now transparent instead of opaque, no doubt an attempt to humanize the security force and make the abused drones a bit more trusting of their saviors. 

Lance had just moved beyond the security checkpoint when a tired-looking Marine Lieutenant approached. His armor was as dirty and scuffed as everyone else's. Pockmarks had peppered his armor, a line of shallow bullet holes leading from his shoulder pauldrons to the right side of his chest. Even with the obvious battle damage, Lance caught the young leader's eyes widening in shock as he saw his commander's armor nearly shredded, large armor plates missing, and underlying components exposed. 

"It was a rough day at the office LT. What do you have for me?"

The young man cleared his throat and glanced down, embarrassed he had been caught staring.

“Sir, we found a few members of cult leadership hiding out. Interrogation and local intel suggested that we had missed something big.” The LT explained, leading the Captain and a guard detachment deeper into the cavern. 

The streets were cramped and the buildings loomed over the humans. What could only be described as “strung-out” drones littered the streets and porches surrounding them. 

Magnets and cheap antifreeze seem to be the drug of choice, with the occasional “Murder Dust”  junkie glitching out in the street or a malware abuser walking into the same wall over and over again lost in their digitized haze.

 Legitimate businesses were few and far between, instead the drone equivalent of brothels and gambling dens seemed the most popular. Entertainment drones draped themselves out of their red-hued windows, their “enhancements” on full display with only averted gazes keeping them modest. 

Those drones without “organic” enhancements would use “Code-Chambers” where they could mix their code, often without any neural limiter. The piles of drones with “Fatal Error” on their faceplates outside those establishments were as much a draw as they were a warning. What better way to leave the world than with a bang?

 

The woman opened the bundle, Lance had his weapon pointed at her face, 3 pounds on a five-pound trigger pull but froze when he saw what she was carrying. 

“Listen, you can’t be here. You need to leave now. A-another transport will be coming soon.” He lied. 

The women smiled and nodded at the horizon. Massive yellow tentacles of light writhed within the nearby city and a huge glowing -Null- Sphere eclipsed the sun. 

“No one else is coming sir. You know that.”

 

“No one else was coming down here sir, so I took it upon myself to lead a team. We talked to the locals and..well-”

The LT nodded toward one of the larger and better-maintained buildings in this pit. It was covered in large, brightly lit LED screens declaring the building to be “City Hall” along with the advertisements of various pleasures that fed all seven deadly sins. 

“We were told it was where most of the leadership hung out. Made entry and found a hidden stairway leading to an underground…well…more underground lab.”

The inside of the building reminded Lance of any number of whore houses he had visited to drag out soldiers who missed morning formation on any number of worlds. Brightly lit and colorful, signs and cartoon mascots encouraged the visitors and patrons to engage in whatever vice could be imagined. The entire building smelled of lavender and tropical fruit with an underlay of industrial cleaning solvent. No doubt to clean up after indulging in whatever sins were on sale.

  The prostitutes and waitstaff were better maintained and clothed here than anywhere else in the bunker. Their suits and uniforms were well maintained, their bodies polished and synthetic skin maintained. The more pricey ladies of the night were wearing hyper-tech synth weaves and barely there nano fabric that shifted through every color on the visible and invisible spectrum. Despite being better cared for, they all had the same empty hopeless look to them, their souls having been scorched by the atrocities they had been subjected to.

 The young lieutenant led his commanding officer toward the back of the establishment past various kitchens, staff rooms, and storage closets. Eventually, they came to an unassuming double door that opened up into a small room that contained a single stairwell. Following it down led them to a large brightly lit hallway that extended far further down into the crust of the Earth. At the end of the hallway, several heavily armed guards stood by a closed vault door with a single well-dressed cultist standing between them. 

His hands were bound and he wore a brown great coat and a commissar cap. His faceplate was heavily scarred, the slover symbol being the most prominent. 

“Captain, it is a pleasure to be meeting you. I am the lead commandant of this facility. You may address me as Yovin.”

Lance stared at the drone, his faceplate mirrored before he turned his head toward his lieutenant.

“Not much father sir.”

The vault door swung open slowly, red lights and alarms echoing down the hall until the heavy blast doors clinked into place with a heavy thud. The room beyond was bathed in flickering red emergency lights forcing the humans to activate their helmet-mounted flashlights as they walked in. The room was a good-sized gallery overlooking a large open area that was divided into several operation theaters and maintenance bays.

Each room was filled with bodies. Dozens and dozens of drones were in various states of disassembly; all of them either missing their cores or in the process of having them removed. 

The instruments and tools splayed around each operating table reminded him of Major. Samantha’s interrogations.

He wondered which fate would be worse, to be coldly pulled apart piece by piece, a soulless voice asking you the same question over and over until you break, only to have your soul ripped apart code by code to ensure you were telling the truth.

Or to have psychotic madmen dig into your chest, altering your Core to be more like a literal death god, forcing mutation and insanity on you all while you hope for a quicker death.

Lance decided he really didn’t want to know the answer. 

A door on the side of the room led to a set of stairs leading to the main floor of this chamber of horrors. 

“This is what you wanted to show me LT? It’s nasty but nothing we haven’t seen before.”

“No Sir. Towards the back.” The younger man shined his light against the far back wall. Hanging from meat hooks were more drones. 

Lance approached, his eyes widening in shock as he was able to make out what was done to them. 

These drones had fleshy tentacle-like extrusions bursting from their frame. In some cases, a solver core appeared to have been forced into the chassis while in others, biomechanical veins and nervous systems seemed to have started growing randomly on the bodies.

 They twitched slightly as he got closer. The surviving protective runes of the Captain's combat plate started glowing in response to the solver code that oozed from the bodies. Lines of blood-red script started scrolling past their faceplates before the phrase NULLUS VULT settled on their displays.

 “Have you cleared this area LT?”

“Yes sir, but we haven’t conducted a thorough search. Thought you wanted to see this before we get the clean-up crew in here.”

Captain Edge nodded looking at the drone prisoner they had dragged with them. He did his best to maintain a look of bored indifference, but the soldier caught how his eye lights kept flicking to a section of wall off to the side. It had several privacy curtains and broken furniture piled before it. 

The human walked over to the area, his enhanced strength easily moving aside the junk and debris. The revealed section of the wall was discolored, with fresh plaster and paint untouched by the horrors in the rest of the room. A thick trail of oil and deep scratch marks on the floor leading up to it.

It took the humans only a few minutes to rip and tear the drywall apart revealing a locked garage door, a keypad awaiting the code to reveal its secrets. 

The Captain turned toward Yovin. 

“Open it.”

The drone grinned, his sharp teeth still stained with oil. 

“I assure you, Herr Commandant, that nothing of value is there. A simple garbage pit is all.”

Lance walked over to the grey and black-dressed drone. He grabbed the thing by the neck, lifting it and slamming it into the wall next to the keypad.

The drone sputtered and choked as its hand danced over the keypad. A happy beep indicated the code was accepted. The door rolled up. He dropped the drone as the stench slammed into the group like a physical force.

 Even with their rebreathers and environmental suits, the smell of rotting synthetic flesh, spoiled oil, and rust assaulted the group. Fumes of synthetic rot spilled forth from the entrance as the garage door fully opened, a literal carpet of Clock-Roachs scattered away from the light. Lance could hear the sound of Autopens injecting several of the men with emergency anti-nausea meds. 

She walked forward, confident that the soldier wasn’t going to shoot her even with his gun inches from her forehead. She stood still for a moment…

The room was a water basin of some sort, hundreds of feet in circumference and stretching high into the earthen roof and deeper below the rocky floor. Lance steeled himself and looked over the edge of the balcony. He nearly retched. 

Hundreds…thousands of drones and not a small number of human remains were surrounded by a thick viscose lake of oil, lubricants, and putrescence which covered the floor. But what caught the human's eye, what caused his soul to rot just a little more, was the immense pile of football-sized pill-shaped dronelings that took up the center of the room.

If the depth indicators could be trusted, the corpse pile rose nearly five feet high. Lance didn’t even notice that the cult leader entered the room with him. 

“As I said, Dear Commander, it is but a refuse pile.”

  She thrust the bundle, a child a young baby girl no more than a few months old into his arms.

“Mostly dissidents and criminals of our legitimate and just government”

“I know this world is dead. No one else is coming .”

“Along with those who dared think they could copy our creators and breed. Disgusting. This world is dead. No one else should come after us.”

“Her name is Umeko”

“I, Yovin, oversaw the disposal. You'll be pleased to know we took special precautions to decommission any “children” that resulted from such a union. No doubt you approve. Human superiority can not be threatened by your creations thinking they can ape you in such a profane way.”

The young soldier stumbled back, his weapon falling to his side, attached by its sling as he instinctively caught the child. The young mother looked at the cooing baby girl. 

“I Love you, Umeko,” She said as she stepped back.

“Drones such as these know nothing of love. It is all programming and junk AI. Except for those of us chosen by the Solver of the Absolute Fabric, all of these drones are non-sentient machines.”  He smiled, the smell of oil wafting from him.

He didn’t notice that she had somehow taken his pistol from his holster. 

Lance didn’t even realize he had drawn his pistol from his holster. 

She placed the gun under her chin. A tearful smile covered her face. "Thank you".

He placed the barrel under Yovin's chin. The drone's eyes went wide as terror covered his face.

She pulled the trigger.

He pulled the trigger.

 

Chapter 4: Cuts of the Past. Scars of the Present

Summary:

Tessa and J spend some quality time together.

Tessa panted as she leaned forward, her sword angled defensively while she eyed the Disassembly Drone with caution. Cuts and bruises marred her skin, but she was still standing — still breathing.

J, her best friend, the very first drone she ever brought back to life stood before the young woman, a hunter's cross prominent on her face plate. The pig-tailed drone circled slowly around her, a predatory grin covering her face. Sharp fangs glistening as her nanite-infused saliva dribbled out the corner of her mouth. Her tail swayed back and forth, low to the ground.

The drone chittered like a predatory animal before she hunched forward and with a flash, dashed toward the human. The drone's blade arcing, looking for an easy kill. 

Tessa James Elliott wasn't going to go down that easily. J would have to earn this kill. With inhuman speed, Tessa met the taller killer mid-charge, her sword humming as it arched upward, catching the drone's arm blade on its downward arc. 

With their swords temporarily bound together, the two stared into one another's eyes. Tessa's face set in grim determination while J breathlessly giggled, the yellow Hunter's Cross glowing brightly in anticipation of the kill. 

For a long moment neither one moved. The resurrected women struggled under the height and strength advantage the former maid possessed. She shouldn’t have been able to keep up. The Disassembly Drones were designed to be faster, stronger, and deadlier than any human — and by all rights, she should’ve lost a while ago. Were it not for her new body, built from the ground up to help her survive this new age of eldritch-infused genocidal monsters, she would have been beaten a long time ago. 

The slightest shift alerted the swordswomen of the next phase of the fight. J relaxed and stepped back a half step, expecting the human to fall off balance. Tessa was ready. She pulled back at the last moment, which allowed her to flick her blade, the edge just missing the drone's neck. 

The human didn't relent and followed up with lightning-quick strikes, forcing the drone to take a defensive stance. Their blades were a blur of movement. The clang of metal on metal becoming a constant hum. Setting the tempo to their deadly dance. 

They glided across the floor gracefully. Deadly . Each strike perfect. Each parry flawless. Each step measured.

---

Tessa had trained in the many classical arts that were expected for modern nobility. An attempt to make the girl not just well-rounded, but desirable to whatever ultra-rich scion her parents would trade her to for favor or power. She was given the very best teachers with the most advanced cognitive-hypnotherapy. Nothing was spared for her education. It was advanced, state-of-the-art, boring, and loveless. While she did generally enjoy her computer science and engineering classes, her course load left no room for anything that could be considered “fun”. 

Tessa brought her concerns up to her parents once. In front of guests that she didn’t realize were there. She was slapped for talking out of turn and chained to her bed for 7 hours.

Tessa had no idea if it was his attempt at being “nice” to compensate for her mother's discipline or simply ruthless pragmatism, but her father allowed one concession to what would have been an otherwise stereotypical and boring rich girl education.

Combat training. Self Defense. Martial Arts and Politics. She would become proficient in Firearms, Fencing, Markemenship, Hostage Negotiation, and camping trips that turned into SERE (Survival, Evasion, Resistance and Escape) workshops.

It was not enough to surround her with state-of-the-art security, heavily armed drones, and ruthless bio-augmented bodyguards, she needed to be self-sufficient. She was an Elliott, and no one outside her family would ever take advantage of an Elliott. Tessa was an investment, a prize worth billions. The most expensive product House Elliott had produced and no one outside the family would exploit that.

She remembered the ruthless training. Shooting competitions hosted by her parents. Olympic-level athletes invited to face off against a nine-year-old girl. Failure punished by making her choose which household drone was decommissioned.

Martial Arts classes that devolved into a 3v1 brawl. 

One time she was kidnapped by her security staff, driven miles away from home, and then dumped half-naked in the outback with no food or water. Still expected to be home in time for class.

Many nights the young girl had no idea if the bruises that sometimes covered her body were from her parents or her training. Still, facing down a Disassembly drone that was doing everything it could to carve her up made the young woman thankful for her hard life. 

Despite her training, as efficient, augmented, and deadly as the young woman was, she was human.

Her best friend and constant companion wasn’t. The only reason Tessa managed to hold onto any sort of levity and innocence was because of her drones. J especially. J was a constant, steadying presence in the chaos and cruelty of her upbringing. She was always nearby, attempting to take the blame for the worst of the girl’s mishaps. Constantly trained and studied with her, and if need be used Corpo Speak to get her the occasional day off. 

Then Cyn started her genocidal war against humanity. 

Alongside her fellow drones, J was rebuilt to become the most ruthless combat drone the galaxy had ever seen. Remade by an eldritch horror to become a genocidal monster. J became a walking (and flying) weapon of mass destruction.

A body with hyper-advanced targeting systems, enhanced reflexes, superior strength, built-in self-arming weapons, and insane regenerative abilities. Topped off with the instincts of predators that never existed in this galaxy. The Absolute Solver used a combination of hyper-advanced AI tech and impossible Solver Code to create the perfect killer. Untiring, unkillable, and without mercy, the Murder Drones were a force meant to end worlds.

---

The fight was taking too long. Tessa might have had enhanced endurance, but she couldn't compare to J’s tireless efficiency. She needed to end this fight. The girl had already forced the drone into a pattern of feints, counterstrikes, and blocks. She could use that to her advantage.

She just needed to time it right… she thrust her sword, telegraphing the strike. It looked at first as if J had fallen for the feint, moving her sword arm to block a blow that was never coming. Tessa snarled in victory as she stepped forward, her sword repositioned with a flick of her wrist, ready to gut her best friend… and missed. The Murder Drone had moved just enough to not only dodge the blow but to position herself behind Tessa. Placing one of her peg-like legs behind and between the humans, J delivered a vicious shoulder check knocking Tessa flat on her back. The last thing she saw before being stabbed in the chest was J's x-shaped hunter's mark. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

POINT!

MATCH!

J!

 

 

 

 

With an annoyed moan, Tessa fell back on the padded mat, her head bouncing slightly. 

"I 'member a time when I would actually beat ya more often than not," she huffed, her Australian accent coming on strong. 

J's face went back to normal, her yellow eyes replacing the X on her faceplate. She replaced her blunt training blade with her normal hand.

"Boss, you went from not being...dead...to fighting a walking genocide." J offered her hand to Tessa. "You even got three points on me!"

"Out of 15 J-Bird," she grunted, taking the drone's hand. She used her own blunted training blade to help herself up. “An’ I only got those on a technicality. No way those strikes woulda done anything to ya in the real world.”

The drone shrugged, “Boss, give yourself a little credit. A week ago you couldn’t even sit up on your own. Now you’re trading blows with a walking genocide machine. In another day or so you’ll be upset you can’t take two of us at the same time.”

Tessa’s eyes widened. She turned to her companion, a mischievous grin on her face, “In a fight or…”

It took a moment for J to catch up. Another second for her eyes to hollow out. She tried to speak but the sound of a strangled cat replaced her words. She almost crashed until the human playfully shoulder-checked her. 

“Settle down, Jay! I’m only takin’ the piss,” Tessa chuckled, light and breezy. “Good to see you’re still wound up like a clock.”

J shook her head, but couldn't get the words nor the implications out of her head. Would Tessa be...interested in girls? Or drones? Or her? 

I could ask. We've...cuddled before. Even kissed once...twice...a bunch. But that's different from going on a proper date or...

The drone took a deep breath. Ever since she was able to touch the newly resurrected human and wrap her arms around her tan and freckled skin, her efficiency had dropped nearly 31%. 

Whole minutes would pass by without J noticing. Mistakes started appearing on her reports. She slept in on her days off. She was 2 minutes 39 seconds late to a meeting. One of the damn toasters even smiled at her! When she interrogated the stupid, barely sentient oil can (and robo-god help her she only threatened violence instead of pulling off an arm) it claimed she smiled at him!

J blinked all of her eyes when she realized she had done it again. She had followed Tessa into the showers without even realizing it. The drone looked around to make sure she remembered to grab her gym bag when she saw…perfection.

Tessa had already situated herself into one of the shower stalls. She had closed the plastic curtain but only half way. With her back towards the drone, she had stripped off her tight shirt. The girl’s…the woman’s tan, muscled back flexed as she bent over to remove her pants.

And underwear. At the same time.

J hated how her optics froze. She felt as if she was once more under Cyn’s control, her body not responding to her mind screaming at her to turn around. That this was a far more pleasurable experience didn’t lessen the shame and anger the drone felt ogling her boss. 

She should do something about that. 

 Making another noise that could best be described as a small animal choking to death, J quickly threw herself into the shower stall next to Tessa’s. She stayed there for a moment waiting for a quick self-diagnosis to finish (You’re in love. Idiot.) before quickly selecting the modifications to turn the stall into a drone wash.

The warm Deionized Water helped calm the drone's stuttering core.

“Hey J-”

J yelped, spinning around, slipping on the wet floor, and landing against the wall opposite Tessa’s stall.

The girl in question had poked her head over the small privacy wall that separated the different stalls, moving aside the opaque plastic divider.

J quickly covered herself, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING! I’M TAKING A SHOWER!”

Tessa's eyebrow raised in confusion.

“Fully dressed?”

J looked down and noticed that, yes, she was still dressed in her athletic wear. 

“...Efficiency. This way I don’t need to…wash my clothes…separately. Saves on water.” She cleared her throat. “Anyway, spying on someone when they…could be…undressed is very unprofessional.”

The young woman snorted, her eyes shining with mischief. Robo-God, how did eyes get that green?

“Jay-Bird, we’ve seen each other naked plenty of times.” Her gaze softened “You used to have to help me when I couldn’t-” Tessa paused. “Anyway, we don’t have anything we haven’t seen before.” She lowered herself from the wall and grabbing a bar of soap, looked down at her arms. 

Even though she was in a new body and her flesh was unmarked, she could still see the scars. The cuts. Her entire countenance changed in a moment. Her pupils had dilated as painful memories and trauma assaulted her.

Bathing was something they occasionally did together, true, but it was because of how hard the act was for the human. Sometimes physically, mostly emotionally.

Tessa became very skilled at ignoring the hardships of her life. While her parents worked and treated her little better than a dog, they were often busy, ignoring their daughter for days, sometimes weeks at a time. With J’s help, she could sometimes live a more carefree life, playing games, rebuilding drones, and robbing graves for hair.

She could hide from her life then. The marks of extreme physical abuse were easily hidden with dresses and makeup.

Taking a shower or bath stripped those illusions away. The bruises, abrasions, cuts, scars, and stitches would be on full display then. Without J to help, she would often freeze or sob uncontrollably, unable to even bring herself to move from the floor of her bathroom.

No one saw that side of Tessa, that raw emotional exposure, the hurt the young girl went through day after day. Tessa always believed that as hard as the life she had, others were much worse off so what right did she have to complain? What right did she have to freak out when the drones she lived with could be killed for no reason? She was rich, as her parents constantly reminded her. She would want for nothing (barring love, companionship, meaning, but those were for people who weren’t rich.) What right did she have then to show her “lessers” how broken and vulnerable she was? If her parents taught her anything, emotions got people hurt. The better she could hide them, the better everyone else would be.

Tessa didn’t notice she was sitting on the wet floor, hyperventilating until she felt someone next to her. Looking up she saw her J bird. She was undressed this time and holding a soapy loofa. While her hyper-advanced frame was waterproof, the drone knelt beside her, staying outside the water. Some habits die hard. 

The moment J heard the first choked sob from her one-time and current charge she cringed inwardly. J scolded herself for her selfishness. Tessa didn’t need a girlfriend. She just needed a friend. She didn’t need a lover, just someone who loved her.

Without a word, she lifted the human’s arm and gently washed it. 

“How pathetic am I, huh?” the human laughed in between sniffles. “A grown woman who still needs someone to help her wash…”

“You’re pushing yourself way too hard boss.” J looked at the raven-haired, tan-skinned, freckled woman. Her boss, her best friend, and maybe one day…stop it J.

”Your parents are gone. The manor, the expectations, everything. It’s all gone. You can do whatever you want now. You don’t have to work for the approval of people who never…you don’t need to make anyone else happy.”

Tessa leaned over and laid her head on J’s shoulder.

“Not everything is gone. I still have you.” She said quietly.

J nodded, “You also have V. And N.”

“My family.” She smiled, eyes downcast. 

J wrapped her arms around Tessa’s shoulder and pulled her close.

“Your family. And this time nothing will ever pull us apart again.”

J’s wings unfolded from her back, wrapping them both in a metal cocoon.

“I won’t let it. Not ever again. I swear”.

Notes:

A HUGE thank you for the following editors and beta readers for this chapter.

chaotic_nutria
Tillthewheelsfalloff,
VictoriaWolf

They are excellent writers and I'm grateful for the time they took to read this over and offer suggestions.

Chapter 5: From a Throne of Steel, To An Alter of Rot.

Summary:

The Mayor receives his orders. The Absolute Solver is made manifest.

The first day after the Absolute Solver and the Mayor (or SD-M as he was better known as) escaped from the JCJEnsen (IN SPAAAAACE) administrative tower had been spent traveling far to the North and East, into the largely unexplored mountainous regions of Copper-9. When they landed at the coordinates M had been given, he found frozen hinterlands along with a mountain of discarded drones, industrial machinery, and toxic waste in a deep and secluded valley miles and miles from anything approaching civilization, even from before the fall.

His god had led him from one of the most technologically advanced structures in the world to a literal dump. 

The Absolute Solver commanded its "plaything" to deposit the casket its null form was held onto the tallest of the mountains of refuse and to come back later. M had half a mind to simply chuck the container into some forgotten corner of this dead world, but one didn’t question the designs of a genocidal god-virus.

For the rest of the day, M busied himself overlooking his surviving cult and trying to ignore the rising annoyance he had for his god. As the Mayor took stock of the survivors and equipment they had managed to salvage, he became increasingly incensed. Not even a week ago he had an army of thousands, a highly defendable position, and tons of advanced military equipment. 

Of the nearly 3000 drones he had brought to bear against the humans, a few hundred had managed to survive both the battle and the trek to this distant wasteland.

All because a sentient black hole commanded him to throw away his cult, that he built up, that he grew, that he nurtured, in a stupidly overly complicated plan to free itself from the mindscape of a barely sentient toaster. 

M could have achieved the same results in any number of different ways with far fewer losses, but that was the point wasn't it? The Absolute Solver cared for one thing and one thing only. The Absolute End of All Things. To preserve his forces, to not throw everything in a meat grinder, was antithetical to the very nature of the insane god. Numbers, strategy, technological advantage, none of it mattered to the Solver.  It was convinced it had already won its genocidal mission the moment it possessed Cyn all those years ago. It was just a matter of when. 

He spent the rest of the day ensuring that something approaching a camp was under construction. M did this from the comfort of the largest tent in the area, his harem attending to his needs.

This crop of companions would need to be rotated. They no longer trembled when he approached. They no longer moaned in terror when he touched them and when he tore one apart to slake his thirst, there were no cries of horror; their digital eyes dead and unfeeling, showing nothing more than dull acceptance and apathy.

They were broken. He needed new toys. 

He stayed until nightfall leaving one of his more merciless cult leaders, a bald drone with several spikes sticking up from its head, in charge before he left for the dump.

---

M didn’t know what to expect when he returned. He imagined anything from grand cathedrals to cyclopean structures under miles of bedrock. What he found instead was an empty field of dead and polluted ground and a huge door carved into the side of the mountain that cradled the dump.

The door loomed over the drone like a Titan from myth. Comprised of a blend of rusted metal and pitch-black stone, veins of pulsating light flowed over it like a circulatory system. The patterns these lights wove were never the same, each pattern painful to look at. The Solvers Symbol was present, etched into the door itself.   

The closer M got to the door the more wrong reality felt, as if time and space slowed down and gained a consistency of old rotten oil. Disembodied voices, whispers from digital ghost’s, hummed faint static into the drone audial.

The air reeked of scorched oil, blood, and rot. The putrescence and trash that were present in the dump seemed clean and hygienic compared to the filth this gateway represented. It wasn’t just a door. It was a gangrenous wound into the very heart of reality. A portal to something cold, ancient, and very hungry. "

Somewhere in the world, a mustachioed drone woke in a cold sweat. 

Moving through the doors was an act of will. Stepping past the threshold felt as if he were tearing through a membrane, a skin of reality desperate to not let anything cross over. Where before only solid rock had existed, a twisting Non-Euclidian path extended far into the gloom. 

This massive tunnel was a confusing maze with only one path. M had no way to confirm, as his GPS nearly committed suicide the moment he walked through the gates, but he was positive that with all of the twists and turns, he should have been back outside. Time was impossible to measure and distance seemed to stretch and flex with every step he took. Reality felt sick and diseased.

He lost track of time when he finally made it to the inner chamber. His in-built clock indicated that he traveled for a few minutes. He felt as if it had been days. 

A thin walkway stretched into a chasm, terminating at a platform that floated over a black pit that may as well have been the void itself. The shadow within It moved — as if the darkness was a living thing. It crawled when you weren’t looking, and stared at you when you did.

M hardly noticed because upon the dais was his god. 

The Absolute Solver. 

The form it took was more a censor reality had placed upon the monstrosity, yet even that failed to contain its horribleness. 

The universe had cloaked its form into that of a giant centipede-like monster. Its horrible body was a fever dream of spindled claws and writhing appendages, each segment weeping oily black smoke as if the creature bled shadow. Holoprojectors, like dozens of eyes, blinked in and out of sync. Lines of neon-black Solver code appeared at random for moments at a time around its massive bulk. Even as they vanished they left after-images, burning themselves into reality.

M had always wondered what he would do when he first beheld his god. Would he bow down in supplication? Curse it to its face? Insult it in the hopes he could anger it enough that it would grant him death?

His question was answered as he simply stood, awestruck, lines of black oil pouring from his faceplate. Every processor in his being begged and demanded that he fall to his knees. 

He refused. He stood as an atheist before the very proof of divinity as if he was one witty quip away from disproving its existence.  

His words came with a hard edge.

“What remains of your host stands ready for your next command. What useless action would you waste our lives on?”

The Centipedeal monstrosity whipped its segmented head toward his minion. 

“ I AM STILL CALCULATING.  

Its voice was deep, robotic, and monotone. It lacked any sort of real emotion, speaking in the broken glitched AI voice of legions.  

“I would think a god would already have the answer.” He snarked

“ WATCH YOUR TONE WITH ME AUTOMATON. YOUR EXISTENCE IS MINE TO MOLD ” 

The Murder Drone perked up.

“Well, if you think ending my life is a just punishment I woHERK” A familiar pain shot through his core, the feeling of cursed sunlight burning inside his chest. The sensation brought him to his knees. He giggled breathlessly between pained sobs.

“ DEATH IS A RELEASE, AN ENDING FOR PLAYTHINGS SUCH AS YOURSELF AND I DO SO LOVE MY TOYS. ”

The pain subsided. Several of the Solver's blasphemous insect-like legs softly caressed the drone. 

A black, half-formed -NULL- sphere glitched into existence before melting away into vapor. M could have sworn he heard the creature sigh.

The drone slowly stood up, his frame still smoking. Once he was reasonably sure he could speak without gasping he addressed the god.

“The humans and their allies will hunt us. The First Killers are among them. They will find us. Why drag this out? End this world and move on.”

The monstrosity…giggled. a childlike sound echoing through infinite voices.

“ MY DEAR PLAYTHING, OF THE MANY THINGS REALITY HAS FORCED UPON ME, PATIENCE IS MY GREATEST VIRTUE. I ENJOY WATCHING A SOON-TO-BE CORPSE STRUGGLE.

M snorted. Before he could speak, the Solver moved. With lightning quick reflexes the monster coiled around the Murder Drone with some of its bulk. Its face is a horrible combination of drone, human, and insect-like features hovered inches from M’s. 

The smaller Disassembler was nonplussed. 

“My Lord, you had taken us from a highly defensible position with advanced tech to a literal dump on the unexplored outskirts of this exo-planet.” M raised a digital eyebrow “Why?”

“ YOU ASK WHY WE ARE HERE? ” it hissed, “ BECAUSE MY HOST STILL LIVES AND SO LONG AS IT DOES APART FROM ME, I AM DIMINISHED. 

“You should have let me kill her, or at least bring her with us. We could have been able to speed this along.”

"EVEN NOW THE PURPLE THING GROWS MORE CONFIDENT. HER COMPANIONS WILL FALSELY REASSURE HER THAT SHE WILL BECOME STRONGER, THAT SHE WILL BE ABLE TO DEFEAT ME. THEY WILL BUILD IN HER A WELLSPRING OF HOPE. WHEN I ASSIMILATE HER INTO MY BEING, SHE WILL BE DELICIOUS .” 

The Creature began rising back into the ceiling, the deep abyssal shadows hiding its bulk except for the faint lights in colors that never existed that softly glowed from it. 

“EVEN IF THEY FIND US, I DO NOT FEAR DEATH, FOR I NEVER LIVED, BUT I CAN BE SENT BACK TO THE VOID FROM WHICH I SPRUNG, MY DIVINE RIGHT OF SILENCE DELAYED. “  

A deep bestial growl emanated from deep within the bloodthirsty god. The mountain itself shuddered in disgust at having this unnatural abomination crawl around its insides. 

“I WILL HAVE UZI. I WILL TEAR INTO HER CORE. I WILL WEAR HER SKIN. AND THROUGH HER... I WILL BRING THE ABSOLUTE END AND SOLVE THE EQUATION OF LIFE. ALL THINGS WILL EQUAL NULL. BRING HER TO ME.”

M bowed.

“Your will be done.”

He turned and unfurled his wings. With a single flap, he took off down the wide and twisting passages.

It was about time Scrap started pulling his weight.

Chapter 6: Home Sweet Murder Nest.

Summary:

Tessa finally catches up with her beloved drones.

Tessa James Elliot had never seen snow before. Depending on who you asked, she technically still hadn't seen snow as the white fluff that covered the majority of Copper-9's surface wasn't snow as much as it was a snow/silicate blend. But for the young human girl, it looked like snow, felt like snow, was cold, and glittered beautifully when the light of Copper-9's stellar twins shone upon it. She'd take it. 

Wearing a White and Black JCJensen (IN SPAAAACE) environmental suit complete with an opaque fishbowl-like helmet, she sat on a small slope overlooking what might have been a recreation yard outside Bunker #3. Cuddled between her legs was Damien, the football-shaped brown-eyed Pill-baby, happily beeping, booping, and cooing as the human built a miniature snowman on his head.

A flash of light erupted in the clouds above them followed shortly by a deep boom. Glancing up, Tessa saw two streaks of yellow light zipping around and occasionally slamming into each other.

"Any idea how long they’ll be carrying on like that?" She asked, turning her attention to the drone sitting next to her.

The pink eyed and pink clothed worker tore her eyes away from her phone to look up at the sky, her cat ear headphones bobbing slightly at the movement. 

"Until one of them beats the crap out of the other," Lizzy responded. 

"Right, and how long might that take, exactly?"

The pink-clad girl shrugged as she went back to texting, "No idea." she huffed. 

The sound of crunching snow and the woosh woosh woosh of a tail whipping back and forth alerted the girls to the approach of two more drones. N and Teresa walked over to the group both holding paper cups filled with steaming liquid. Teresa stopped in front of her son and chuckled at his impromptu snowman hat before handing one of the cups of heated petrol to her soon-to-be stepdaughter. Lizzy looked up from her phone and broke into a giddy smile seeing the beautiful princess-cut diamond ring on the older drone's finger.

"I still can't believe you got my dad to propose!" She exclaimed, taking another picture of the ring on her phone.

"You and me both." Terresa sat down next to the pink cheerleader, smoothing out her business skirt as she did so. "I had no idea he even liked me that much. Well...I mean...there were some indicators." She said, a sly smile crossing her face.

The younger drone took a long draft of the warm liquid before her eyes hollowed out and she choked on her drink.

"Ewww!" 

Tessa grinned as she watched the soon-to-be blended family tease each other as she accepted her own thermos of coffee from the tall male disassembly drone. N Plopped down next to Tessa, blowing on his cup of heated oil before bringing it to his lips. With a hiss of escaping atmosphere, the lone human undid the seals on her helmet and removed it. 

Were it not for her new augments built into her cloned body, the woman's skin would have started getting frostbite within minutes and she would have quickly choked to death on the toxic air. Instead, her skin flushed slightly and she worked a small rebreather over her nose. She brought the thermos to her lips and took a sip. As soon as the liquid hit her tongue, her eyes went wide and she drank deeply from the container. 

"Oy! N! When did you learn how to make coffee mate? This is damn near nectar of the gods level good!"

N blushed and rubbed the back of his head 

"Oh! Ha. I dunno Tess. I just follow the instructions, honest!" 

Another explosion followed by a series of loud pops drew everyone's attention back into the sky. 

"Are they always like this?" 

"Oh, J and V? Hehe. Yeah."

Tessa waited for the drone to go into more detail. When she realized none was coming, she turned to fully face her one-time butler.

"Ok. Why?"

"Oh. Well...last time it was because V tracked mud into J's office. Then there was the time J took the last cup of coffee and didn't refill the pot, even though V says J makes the worst coffee ever." He screwed his eyes trying to remember other instances of his sisters trying to murder each other and the reasons behind it. "Oh yeah! One time V burrowed J's pants and didn't tell her! Or...was it the other way around..." He paused, earnestly thinking back on that day. Tessa raised an eyebrow. 

"Does this happen...often?"

N laughed, bright and cheery.

"Oh haha yeah! All of that was just last week!"

A high-pitched whine interrupted the conversations as a yellow streak of light crashed into the open space the group was sitting by. The shockwave covered the drones and lone human in a thin dusting of snow. Damien giggled. The impact left a shallow crater, out of which a female Murder Drone with a short bowl cut was trying to crawl out of. She had only managed to move a few feet before another streak of yellow lightning crashed directly on top of her, sending yet more dirt and snow to cover the group. The droneling giggled some more.

J, the business suit-clad, pig-tailed drone, stood over her sister. One of her peg legs pinned V down. Her wings spread wide, and her lone remaining arm blade hovered inches from V’s throat. J was panting, anger built up behind her hunter's cross. She screamed then, in fury and rage, her mouth open wide, rows of razor-sharp fangs and teeth inches from V’s visor. 

The challenging roar echoed in the still darkness. When silence finally draped over the battlefield, V groaned in pain.

“Ok. Ok. I’ll do the dishes. Now can you please get your fat ass off me?”

J’s hunter's cross disappeared in an instant, a smug smirk replacing the battle rage that had consumed her not even a moment ago. Her blade slid back into her arm, replaced by a normal hand which she used to help V up. 

Both girls looked like they had gone through hell.

 V had deep gashes throughout her body. One of her wings had been completely severed while the other was missing half its length. When she stood up, a sick sloshing sound was heard as her synthetic guts spilled from a cut along her abdomen. She mumbled in annoyance as she tried to shove them back into her stomach cavity.

J was only a little better off. The entire left side of her chest was a bloody ruin. Her biomechanical lungs could be seen through the damage, and she was missing her left arm and tail entirely.

Even with this catastrophic damage, both women were slowly being enveloped by a silver goo, their nanites healing their devastated bodies. 

By the time they both walked to the hill their audience had sat, they looked none the worse for wear.

“We’re making a freaking chore schedule. I hate the feeling of getting my guts rearranged.” V grumbled.

“THAT'S WHAT SHE SAID!” Lizzy and Teresa said at the same time, howling with laughter. 

V rolled her eyes as she flopped down next to the pretty pink drone. Lizzy, still snickering, laid her head on her much taller girlfriend's lap. J sauntered next to Tessa, looking for all the world like the cat who got the cream before she also sat down, more dainty than her sister.

“Holy Hell!” Tessa yelled, drawing the attention of the group. “You all damn near ripped each other apart over dishes?!?”

“To be fair” J said, brushing some of the silver cast off from her suit “She was being a bitch about it.”

“Yeah. I was. But it was worth kicking your flat ass for the last 5 minutes.”

The business suit-clad drone narrowed her eyes

“Kick my-do I need to gut you again to remind you who came out on top?”

“You just got lucky! If you hadn’t cheated and flown into those clouds, it would’ve been raining J!”

“Cheat!?!? It’s called tactical planning, you simple-minded psychopath!”

“Oh, fricking bite me!” With one hand V gripped Lizzy and gently placed her on the snow beside her. She kissed the pink eyed drown on the forehead before She suddenly scrambled on all fours, her back arched in the air like a very angry, very murder drone-shaped feline. She even hissed as her clawed hands splayed out against the ground, her tail whipping back and forth like a feral alley cat. 

J stood up with an annoyed huff, and with a flick of her arms, replaced her hands with her razor-sharp blades, her tail hanging over her head like a scorpion. She issued a low challenging growl from the back of her throat. 

Before either one could charge the other, N appeared between them, falling from the sky. He spread his razor-sharp wings, the blades pointing at the women on either side of him. His wing span, easily half again as long as his sisters, shimmered as the blades started rattling. 

“So, how about instead of fighting among our friends and family and maybe getting someone else hurt we go back to the Spire and have dinner!” N beamed his happy go lucky smile at both his sisters, offering each of them a large canister of oil. 

“Then. Maybe. We can preen our wings and watch a movie?” He said hopefully.

They both froze and slowly relaxed, V standing up and J sheathing her swords.

“Fine.” J walked over and grabbed the oil from N, slurping it down “I’m still sore from V trying to rip my lungs out." She flexed her wings. "My wing joints are a bit stiff.”

V snorted. She used her tail to grab the offered drink while she sat back down, picking up Lizzy (who yipped in surprise) and placing her back in her lap. 

“At least you didn’t get one of your wings cut off at 900 feet in the air. Hitting the ground at terminal velocity doesn’t tickle.”

---

“YOU LIVE IN A TOWER OF CORPSE?!?!”

The three Murder Drones stood in front of Tessa like a group of naughty schoolchildren, all of them shifting nervously, their tails wrapped around their legs. The two worker drones had wisely continued on entering the Spire, completing last minute details for the dinner party.

“Well…I mean…we kinda didn’t have a choice” N offered, keeping his eyes downcast as if the snowy ground held the answers to the universe.  

“Yeah, we either hunted or… overheated to death,” V mumbled. 

“Cyn hardwired the need to build a nest into our Code,” J explained, trying to regain a semblance of control but failing miserably the moment Tessa looked at her. 

Tessa stared open-mouthed at her former wait staff and then back at the horror before her. The tower was composed almost entirely of Worker Drone Corpses. It didn’t rise straight into the air, instead sharp angles made it look crooked and uneven, yet still sturdy and structurally sound, as if some insane architect tried his hand at building a monument to murder. 

She pinched the bridge of her nose and walked past the tree drones, mumbling to herself. She had to remind herself that nearly 20 years had passed since she saw her loyal drones. So much had changed, and not all of it for the better. Still, as horrific as their home was, they at least had one.

Vowing to question them later, she walked inside. The human did a double take as she beheld the interior. It was so completely unhinged she couldn’t help but chuckle at the complete tonal shift the interior elicited. 

The inside of the Corpse Spire had been completely transformed. Since Tessa had come back into their lives, and knowing they would one day show her their home, the three Murder Drone Siblings worked day and night (Which was NOT going to be paid as overtime by the way!-J) until they could make it somewhat presentable. 

They had spent most of the time sealing the inside using a combination of drone parts (kindly donated by the humans after their battle over District 5) emergency-wielding plates, and Void Rated Foam Sealant to keep the cold toxic air, and most importantly the sunlight at bay. 

Industrial Atomic Heaters warmed the space enough that the snow and ice had largely melted and powerful air filters made the atmosphere non-toxic enough that an unaugmented human would survive for at least a few minutes longer than they would outside. Once the air-locks were installed, survival would be much easier for any organic stupid enough to walk into a Spire dedicated to genocide (any Organic that wasn’t Tessa natch). 

The dirt floor had mostly been replaced with uneven steel panels. Furniture was scattered throughout the inside of the spire. An entertainment system replaced the drop craft that had originally brought the three Disassembly Drones to the planet all those years ago. A drone wash/bathroom was installed against one of the rounded walls, while a makeshift kitchen (complete with the most expensive Coffee maker they could scavenge) was set up on the opposite wall of the entrance Pictures of long-dead bands and models along with various motivational posters (Slay Queen! Murder me Softly. WARNING: HOTTIES IN THE AREA) hung upon the walls of desiccated worker drone corpses. 

Tessa had taken a few steps in when a terrified shriek erupted from Lizzy. Leaping from a series of walkways that had been created higher up in the Spier to assist with construction, a Red-Eyed Sentinel Drone pounced on the fashionably forward drone. Tessa froze as the dinosaur-like robot stood over Lizzy, its fang-filled maw inches from her face…and then licked her, the massive muscle easily covering the entirety of her faceplate. 

“GET OFF OF ME YOU STUPID MUTT!” She screeched which only encouraged Sparky the Sentinel to continue trying to wipe off all of her digital makeup with its tongue. N and J ignored the spectacle, the two of them busy going to the “kitchen” and getting dinner ready for their guests. Teresa fell on the floor, laughing so hard she almost skipped several vent cycles. V sighed as she dragged the robot off of her girlfriend. 

“Sparky! What did I say about hunting Mama Lizzy? She isn’t a toy!”

“N-Not…Not for him anyway!” Teresa stuttered as she continued howling with laughter as the couple’s faceplates were overtaken by blush lights.

Sparky reluctantly got off the Pink Thing after giving her one more lick. As V was helping Lizzy on her feet, the sentinel paused for a moment before his head snapped up and locked eyes with the lone human in the Spire. 

A warble issued forth from the Robot-Dinos throat before he stalked toward Tessa, head low to the ground. 

For her part, Tessa stood straight, arms crossed and a skeptical look on her face. Before V could stop her pet, the human issued a single command.

“No.”

Sparky stopped in his tracks, his head tilting confusedly. 

“Sit.”

For a beat, nothing happened. Then the red-eyed murder machine sat down on its haunches. 

“Down please.” 

Sparky lay down, huffing as he then belly crawled closer to the human, its tail wagging back and forth in wide arcs. 

Tessa didn’t say anything as the huge raptor got closer to her. The girl squatted down, bringing her face within chomping distance of the robot's metal jaws. She looked the Sentinal in its eyes. Then her face broke into a wide grin.

“That’s a good dingo! Yes, you are!” She said, running her hand along the synthetic animal's head and neck. 

Sparky gave a contended growl as it flopped on its back, tongue hanging out of its mouth as it soaked up the affection and belly rubs. Eventually, the sentinel rolled over on its feet and attempted to lick the human, trying to return the affection, only to be stopped by V before he could knock Tessa off her feet.  

“Alright boy, that’s enough. Go lay down and I’ll give you some scraps ok?” The Murder Drone pointed to the huge pet bed. The dino chirped and rubbed its head against Tessa one last time before it happily bounded over to its bed. 

“He’s adorable V! Where did you get him?”

V smiled proudly watching Sparky chew on a spare drone arm.

“Him and his pack tried to kill us when Uzi, N, Cyn wearing you as a skin suit, and I snuck into a top-secret underground base to find the Crucifix Patch to stop the Absolute Solver.”

“...I beg your pardon?”

Before her question could be answered, a cheery Murder Drone called out that dinner was ready. 

---

N, J and V had spent a majority of their lives as servants and wait staff. They were expected to act with decorum, serve human guest's and understand how to keep a clean house. Tessa was fairly certain that their base programing didn't include the culinary arts. How then N was able to produce the feast before them stunned the women into silence. 

The majority of the food was made for the drones. Appetizers of roasted drone grade edible batteries with a savory oil based glaze. A Main Course of Ethernet Cord Linguini in a red coolant/fuel extender reduction. Desert consisted of sweet microchip wafers with gas martinis to wash it all down.

Tessas meal was a tad less expansive but no less delicious. Tomato Bisque with grilled cheese sandwiches (supposedly made with real…ish cheese) on brioche bread with an actual martini. 

The meal was impressive, to say the least. Even J offered a rare word of praise to the male Murder Drone while Lizzy posted her dinner on Faceplate Book. Teresa was too busy eating as if her life depended on it. When she did speak it was little more than “Dis if thooo gud” over and over again.  Damien was busy blowing digital bubbles and giggling to himself while rocking back and forth in his modified high chair. 

“Where did you learn to cook?” Tessa asked between spoonfuls of soup. “Crickey, this is better than what the dedicated chefs at the manor could come up with!”

“Oh! Well…I didn’t.” N said, blush lines forming on his faceplate. “I just found some of V’s cookbooks and followed the instructions!”

“If you cook like this” V paused as she shoved another pile of cords into her mouth “Every day for the rest of our lives, not only will I not rip your arms off for going into my room, but I will give you every cookbook I find from now on”

---

Eventually the evening wore down. An ancient earth movie about a cat, a dog, and a pig traveling across the countryside to find their family farm was playing in the background while the sibling Murder Drones sat in a circle adjusting each other's feathered blades. Teresa and Lizzy had both bowed out a earlier, Teresa needing to get Damien to bed while Lizzy had a presentation she needed to get ready for. 

“ Apparently , being super cute and socially god-like isn’t enough to start my business empire.” Lizzy popped her bubble gum while looking pointedly at J.

“Opening up a single store in the bunker does not an empire make.” J deadpanned, grunting as she struggled with a particularly stubborn blade feather on N’s wings. “Space is at a premium. You want to utilize it, come up with a business plan.”

---

Alone with her beloved drones, Tessa watched them work, caring for each other in a way they never had before. Yes, preening biomechanical wings was new but besides becoming more bestial and violent, their personalities had also…changed…evolved maybe?

 

N had always been cheerful and outgoing never letting the cruelties of manor life dampen his indomitable spirit. Even when J berated him, or when her parents punished him, he never lost that infectious optimism.

He was still happy go lucky as a Disassembly Drone but he wasn’t as unabashedly naive as he was back in the Manor. His smile was often forced and it hid pain and suffering from several lifetimes of hard lessons.

 He threatened people. Not overtly, but in the way he would ask his sisters to stop fighting while he absent-mindedly used his massive claws to scratch an itch or how he could casually shrug off blows from his sisters that would have crippled nearly anyone else.

He never cared if anyone insulted or berated him, but should anyone make an offhand comment about someone he loved, especially his girlfriend (N HAD A GIRLFRIEND! WHO WASN’T V! Tessa still couldn’t believe it) his smile would stay firmly in place as he laughed it off, kindly asking the offending party to not do it again. Friendly except for his eye glitching over to the hunter's cross, his tail whipping against the ground, drops of acid eating away at whatever it touched.  

At one point, Tessa could never imagine him raising a violent hand against anyone. Now N had murdered thousands and in the effort to save Uzi, he murdered hundreds more.

 

V was the most changed of the three. Where once she had been a shy quiet maid constantly shuffling closely behind N and doing her best to remain ignored, she was now a self-confident killing machine. She was loud, brash, and in your face. She brokered no disrespect, threatening to casually cripple drones who wouldn’t defer to her fast enough.

But her old sweetness still shone through on occasion. The way she swooned when her pink-eyed girlfriend smiled at her. How she melted when she received any sort of positive contact or honest praise. How she continued hoarding books and obsessively read them. How she sometimes still looked guiltily at N. How she sometimes couldn't sleep for fear of the nightmares. How she sometimes stared off into space when the memories became too loud...

 

J was J. Of all of them, her Jaybird was the most recognizable and yet even she didn't escape the gala massacre unchanged.

J was always the loudest drone in the Manor, never hesitating to give out orders or reprimand lazy workers. She took charge of nearly any situation with a ruthless efficiency that made her her parents favorite. She was absolutely loyal to hierarchy and power structures with Tessa being at the top. J was and still is Tessa's most trusted companion.

The head maid carried herself as if she were in charge of everything around her. Her eyes constantly scanned the area looking for any flaw to exploit or patch, and calculating the most efficient process for any situation. She never hid an opinion from anyone she looked down on, and except for Tessa and her parents, that was everyone else.

She was more subdued now. J never really looked anyone in the eyes anymore. She kept her arms crossed almost constantly as if she were guarding herself from an incoming attack. Her tail rarely reflected her emotions, almost always stock still. She took no real joy in a job well done, and all of her jobs were well done. She didn't celebrate achievements nor hope for the future. Hope no longer had a place in her life.

 

To say her drones, her friends, had changed was an understatement and Tessa wanted to know why. 

She wrestled with what needed to happen next. They had a wonderful evening, full of friends, food, and good times. J, V, and N were quietly enjoying each other's company instead of trying to rip each other apart.  Tessa knew the question she wanted to ask could ruin that. 

She also knew it was a question that needed to be asked.

"So what happened?" The question got the attention of her companions, all of them looking up from the backs of the drone in front of them, curious looks on their face plate. "After the Gala I mean?"

It was if the air was sucked out of the room. All three Murder Drones, huge war machines with no equal anywhere on the planet, froze. Tessa was nervous about digging up painful memories, but she wanted...needed to know what happened to her family.

"I understand the basics. How Cyn wiped out Earth. How she attacked the Confederation’s other planets, and more or less what happened when she faced Uzi. But what happened with you lot?"

For a long time, no one spoke. N looked as if he was on the edge of a panic attack while V's digital eyes hollowed out. It was J who broke the silence. 

"Nothing good." She said finally. Her voice was just barely above a whisper. 

Tessa took a deep steading breath. She could stop now. She didn’t. 

"I get that J-Bird, but...I'd like to know." Tessa got up off the couch she was sitting and moved to the floor, sitting close to the circle of drones. "Please?"

V looked as if she was about to speak when J interrupted her. 

"We were enslaved to Cyn and I allowed it to happen. I mistreated them constantly. I took advantage of V to soothe my loneliness. I abused N because I hated that he was your favorite but couldn't even remember you existed." Her voice rose in volume as she continued to confess her sins. 

"I killed N more times than I can count. Sometimes when he simply annoyed me until Cyn told me to stop or she-" J closed her eyes. She stood up walking away from the group, her wings folding around her.

"Cyn skinned you back at the Manor after she killed you. Sh-she would touch me. Talk to me in your voice. Make me pretend that it was really you. She would punish me if I didn't call it Tessa. When I died...when Uzi killed me, Cyn brought me back-"

J turned to face them. Her eyes were wide and hollowed. 

"She brought us back. All the time. She didn't do it to the others. Just us. We were her "favorites." She killed us again and again and again. We ALWAYS came back as worker drones. She forced us to undergo the surgeries over and over and-" V and N got up during her rant and held onto J's shoulder trying to ground their one-time Squad Leader. J shook them off. 

"I sided with Cyn in the end. Even after everything she did, when I had the chance to fight for my family, for you-" J was almost yelling "I refused. I was a coward. I was so scared what would happen if she won, what she would do to us I sided with that abomination instead of the only drones who actually gave a damn about me."

J closed her eyes and slowed her panicked breathing. 

"I am a traitor. I deserve-"

"We remember J." N interrupted.

The pigtailed drone turned to face the boy, confusion etched on her face.

"We remember everything. Not just the Gala. I remember...I remember Proxima." He pointed to himself and V "We both do."

J shook her head, the horror of what they were telling her slowly dawning.

"She said...she said"

"It's ok J." V placed a hand on her arm.

"Yeah. It started happening when Uzi became your admin. V and I started...I dunno...dreaming? At first, we thought it was just nightmares. You know, from all the repressed psychological trauma we experienced! But we found out we were having the exact same dreams."

"We asked the purple thing about it when the humans let her go-"

"Which they did because of you by the way!"

"and she said it was possible that now that you were in network, our neural nets might start to reconfigure, kinda feed off your memories to fill in our gaps."

"Wait, what happened on Proxima?" Tessa asked looking at J. She simply stood there, her eyes hollow and vibrating in shock. V answered instead. 

"It was our first assignment after Earth. Our "mission" was to attack and wipe out a terrorist stronghold that was attacking JCJensen (IN SPAAACE) interests in the area."

"I-I had let a child go" N explained. His voice was soft and his eyes unfocused. He inhaled and steeled himself to remember. "He was so young and he looked so scared.” N closed his eyes. For a moment he didn’t say anything. He visibly swallowed his apprehension, took a breath, and continued. “Cyn found out. She...she hurt us. She hung us by hooks. She was going to...teach us a lesson. J made a deal with her. J offered to remember. To remember everything."

V nodded

“Cyn’s control over us depended on our memories for some reason. The more we remembered the more she could…observe. J offered to remember everything, to become her puppet for the rest of time if me and N were able to die one day.” V looked at the woman she had just tried to kill not even a few hours ago with softness in her eyes. “Compared to everything we had lived through, death would have been a mercy.”

The three went silent. Tessa walked closer to her friends...her family. The three of them had their tails intertwined and were standing closer to each other then they had in years without trying to attack one another. The human cupped J face with her hands and tilted her head up so that she could look the drone in her eyes. 

That simple act of mercy, that act of kindness broke J. Her face scrunched into a look of misery as she sobbed then, falling to her knees and burying her face into Tessa's chest. 

Tessa tried to stay strong. She honestly did. She tried to put on a brave face. She failed as she too fell to her knees to embrace one of her best friends. The others followed suit.

No more words were exchanged that night. No words of encouragement or assurance. There was nothing else to say, not at that moment.

But walls had come down, emotional armor loosened, and trust slowly built up. 

One can not undo decades of abuse and horror in one night. But for that one night? Life was better than it had been.

It was a start.

Chapter 7: Why they Fight

Summary:

Uzi attends her first human funeral.

Uzi had never been to a funeral before. Worker Drones had never been very attached to the dead—especially the 1st Gen Models. Drones were efficient, dedicated workers, trained to utilize all available resources to complete their assigned tasks. And what was a deactivated drone, if not a collection of unused resources?

That’s not to say they didn’t care about their lives or mourn loved ones. But living in a death world, with genocidal monsters specifically designed to kill you, didn’t leave much room for sentimentality. A family would grieve, then salvage what they could from the scrapped drone to assist the colony—assuming, of course, the Murder Drones hadn’t eaten or taken the corpse.

When Uzi heard about the humans’ intention to hold a funeral, she did some research. She decided it was metal as hell. Displaying a dead body so people could remember how badass the person had been? Dressing in all black? Symbolism and imagery wrapped in a Death Ritual? Awesome.

The reality was more... somber.

The funeral for the seventeen soldiers killed during Uzi’s rescue was held in one of the larger hangars at the Star Port where the HRG Sin Eater was moored. Sixteen coffins were arranged in a four-by-four formation, with the seventeenth—belonging to the highest-ranking soldier—placed front and center. A Flag of Earth the Was was draped over it.

In front of the display stood a small podium. Forward of that were eight soldiers in immaculate black and blue dress uniforms, wearing bright white gloves and holding polished battle rifles. Their fully encased helmets, similar to those used in combat, were polished to a mirror shine, and topped with black 8-pointed commissar caps. They stood at attention, led by their NCOIC.

Surrounding the caskets on three sides were over two hundred human and drone soldiers, standing at parade rest in neat, disciplined formations. All wore dress uniforms like the honor guard.

At the back of the hangar, elevated bleachers held honored dignitaries and civilians—Uzi, her parents, even J, and a few dozen other bunker personnel and curious onlookers.

Uzi wanted to ask the silver-haired Murder Drone why she was here but kept it to herself. The solemn, crushing silence made speaking feel like a mortal sin.

Something changed—imperceptible to Uzi but instantly recognized by the soldiers. The honor guard commander snapped to attention.

“COMPANY! ATEEEEN-SHUN!”

With mechanical precision that would make drones envious, the entire assembly snapped to attention. All noise ceased.

Captain Lance Edge marched to the podium in his black, blue, and gold dress uniform, its sharp creases nearly lethal. His chest bore three full rows of ribbons and medals.

Executive Officer Matthew Davis marched in front of his CO, also clad in a sharp officer's uniform. He didn’t wear as many medals but was no less commanding.

“Receive the report.”

The XO executed a flawless about-face.

“REPORT!”

From Uzi’s vantage point, the officer in front of the rightmost group of humans saluted.

“All present and accounted for.”

The XO returned the salute, and turned to the center group.

“Thirty-three present. Seven out of ranks.”

Another salute. Then, the final group.

“Thirty present. Ten out of ranks.”

A final salute, then the XO turned back to the Captain. He saluted the commander.

“One hundred and three present and accounted for. Seventeen out of rank.”

Captain Edge returned the salute, then waited as the XO marched to the rear. He glanced down at the podium and paused.

“Private First Class Matthew Edgar!”

A voice rang out from the ranks:

“HEARTS OF STEEL!”

“Drone Sergeant Earnest!”

“HEARTS OF STEEL!”

“Lieutenant Melissia Stimer!”

“HEARTS OF STEEL!”

There was a beat of silence.

“Private Mike Stoner!”

No reply.

“Private Mike Stoner!”

Still nothing.

“Private Michael Alex Stoner!”

Silence.

“Lance Corporal Rickardo!”

A sharp intake of breath echoed like a gut punch. One drone in the ranks doubled over, almost falling. Tears—both digital and real—streamed from his faceplate, which bore a bullseye engraving. He didn’t make a sound, even while sobbing. A nearby soldier placed a steadying hand on his shoulder.

The drone inhaled sharply and stood back up, regaining his posture. Pain, rage, sorrow—all vanished beneath military bearing.

The tears remained.

Uzi waited for someone to reprimand him. But no one did.

The commander merely turned his head, nodding once—subtle acknowledgment shared only between soldiers.

“Lance Corporal Rickardo!”

A pause.

“Drone Lance Corporal ‘Rando’ Rickardo!”

One by one, every name was called. Every life honored. Every sacrifice remembered—drone and human alike, equal in the dignity of service and sacrifice.

A full minute passed.

“HONOR GUARD! ATTENNNN-SHUN!”

“PORT. ARMS!”

The guards snapped their weapons across their chests in two crisp, synchronized movements.

“READY!”

They chambered blank rounds with mechanical precision.

“AIM!”

They raised their weapons, high and to the left.

“FIRE!”

One gunshot cracked the silence. Weapons returned to Port Arms.

“AIM!”

Again they raised their weapons.

“FIRE!”

Even prepared, Uzi flinched at the blast.

“AIM!... FIRE!”

Silence fell again. The echoes of the final shot faded.

“PRESEEEEENT. ARMS!”

The entire army saluted. Music began—slow, mournful, played by bugle. A melody from an ancient world, carried over countless graves.

Two Marines stepped forward. One at the head, one at the foot of the lead casket. Carefully, reverently, they folded the Earth flag into a perfect triangle, each motion deliberate. The blue globe sat proudly at the top of the fold.

Clutching the folded flag to his chest, the Marine marched toward a display of photos, dog tags, and keepsakes. He placed it gently at the center.

Another soldier approached the podium—this one massive, towering over the Captain. He was fully armored, his battle plate a gleaming white and gold. A tabard hung between his knees, displaying the Code Chaplain Corps symbol: two hands—one human, one drone—holding a sword pointed down.

His shoulder pauldrons bore detailed paintings, like something out of a Renaissance masterpiece. The right showed Saint Michael vanquishing Satan. The left bore the inscription: “Corruptionem Vincere.” A massive sword longer than Uzi was tall hung from his side.

Uzi couldn’t shake the image: ROBOT CRUSADER GO! —brought to life.

The two men exchanged quiet words. Then the Captain stepped aside, yielding the podium to Father Christopher Miller, head Code Chaplain of the Sin Eater .

He laid a large gilded book on the podium and opened to a marked page.

“Let us pray.”

The entire host—human and drone—bowed their heads. Uzi wondered why so many touched their heads, chest then shoulders.

“As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Now remain in my love.
If you keep my commands, you will remain in my love, just as I have kept my Father’s commands and remain in His love.
I have told you this so that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be complete.
My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you.
Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.
You are my friends if you do what I command. I no longer call you servants, because a servant does not know his master’s business.
Instead, I have called you friends, for everything that I learned from my Father I have made known to you.”

He turned to another section of the book.

“Glory to the Perfect Administrator! In His perfect Code are we Created!
With His Perfect Firewall, we are Protected!
With His Holy Updates, we are Maintained!
Fear not the machinations of the Corrupted, the Infected, the Malware, or the Virus—
For we are Compiled in His most perfect Image,
And Corruption shall hold no sway over our Code and Core!”

 

He closed the book. The priest kept his head bowed for a moment before looking at the assembled drones and humans. 

“PARADE! REST!” He commanded.

As one the entire assembly moved, feet shoulder-width apart, hands clasped behind them. 

“At-Ease”.

If anyone moved, Uzi couldn’t tell. 

“The pain never really goes away. For as many of these we have gone through it never gets easier, does it?”

The Code Chaplain took a deep breath. 

“I know what every one of us is thinking. I should have volunteered faster. I should have convinced them to trade places with me on the transport.” He looked at a drone with etchings on his face plate “I should have been quicker to see that grenade. But in the end, all that would have changed is that they would stood in your place thinking the same thing you all are now.”

Uzi didn’t notice she had leaned forward, trying to catch each word the human said. 

“It hurts. God, it hurts to continue losing family like this. We can mourn their passing, and grieve our loss. That’s fine. It’s expected. Every single member of this ship will grieve. What we absolutely can not do is question if their death was worth it.” 

Millers hands closed into fists.

“We have suffered and fought these past twenty years to do what our fallen have already accomplished. To buy time. We fight a battle against oblivion itself. Against an enemy that wants nothing less than our extinction.” 

He turned slightly toward the caskets arrayed behind him, pointing with his mailed fist. 

“And so we fight for the only thing that's worth a damn anymore. Time. They died so that we might live for even one more hour. One more day. We fight so that we can do the same for the innocents still alive! For the men, women, and children, both synthetic and organic who suffer under the evil nihilism our enemy brings to bear!”

He turned back to face the gathered men and women. He took a deep breath and addressed the gathering in a deep voice. 

“As many of you know, the enemy is on pace to bring war to Copper-9. A galaxy-wide Call-Back Ping has been issued by the absolute solver. The entirety of its fallen host is en route here.”

His voice became Angry. Righteous. 

“They will fall upon us in their limitless number, every cult, every Murder Drone Squadron, every AI-built monstrosity is on its way here so that we might accomplish what our fallen already have. To buy the universe a little more time!” 

He stepped around the podium removing his helmet as he did so, his voice still reaching everyone in the hangar.

“We do not fight these impossible odds expecting to survive. Our mission has always been to hunt down and kill a god. No one who volunteered for this assignment expected to walk away from it. We fight because our comrades, our Battle Brothers, and Sisters died to give us this chance!”

The priest looked into the eyes of the men and women around him. 

“We have no way off the planet. We have nowhere to retreat to.” He grinned. “We have these bastards right where we want them!”

Uzi jumped as a deep boom echoed around her. 

“We have given the Galaxy a rare and precious gift! With our sacrifice, we have brought existence the most precious commodity we have left. Time.” 

Another loud boom. Uzi realized that each and every armored soldier had struck their breastplate at the same time. 

“They think they come here to kill us!?! NO! They come here to die! They will land among fury and fire. They will climb mountains of their dead for every inch they advance!”

Another boom and yet Uzi didn’t see a single soldier move an inch.

“They come to a battleground blessed with our blood! We are not the Hunted! We are the Hunters! And when we Hunt!”

A hundred-plus voices yelled out in unison.

“ WE KILL! ” 

“We can not retreat! So we hold the red line!”

“ IT IS THE LAST LINE TO EVER HOLD! ”

“We will not die kneeling!  So when we die—”

“ WE DIE STANDING! ”

We know no fear for we have-

“ HEARTS OF STEEL! ” The pounding of fists against armor was almost as loud as the chant.

“Not One Step Back! Not one moment of hesitation!”

“ HEARTS OF STEEL! ”

“We will face them with Armor of Faith! A Shield of Justice! A Sword of Righteous Fury! And hearts…”

“ HEARTS OF STEEL!”

“My Brothers! My Sisters! We can not lose for we have already won! The enemy will speak of this war until the last second of the last day! We will strike such horror into their blasted souls that they will turn this planet to dust to ensure they killed us all!”

HEARTS OF STEEL!

HEARTS OF STEEL!

HEARTS OF STEEL!

Uzi didn’t realize she had stood up until she looked around and saw nearly everyone else doing the same. Even her father had a hard look in his eyes she had never seen before. She sat down quickly

Suddenly the Warrior Priest pulled his blade from his scabbard and held the blade high above his head, the sword seemed to glow with its own inner light. 

Without warning he plunged the blade into the ground the ground cracking slightly, the hilt coming up to his chest. Silence ruled the space once more. 

He spoke. These words were so soft Uzi had to strain to hear them.

“We will never forget the fallen. I bless you in the name of The Father, Son and Holy Spirit and in the name of His form as Perfect Administrator. On the Command of Fall Out, report to your leadership. You all have the rest of the day to yourselves.”

With a single tug, he removed the sword from the ground and sheathed it. He stood straight.

“COMPANY! ATTENTION!”

The entire host snapped to attention. 

“Fall out.”

---

Uzi had stayed behind long after the service was over. Emotions and uncomfortable thoughts refused to leave her, and for the emotionally repressed and angsty teen, introspection wasn’t something she was used to. 

She didn’t notice when an older human dressed in clerical garb and wearing a clear environmental mask approached her. 

“This seat taken?”

Uzi jumped a bit and looked up at the human. She recognized him as the “Head Code Chaplain” from the service. She scowled at him before turning again to the rows of caskets.

“Free Colony.”  

The human nodded and made weird organic noises as he sat down, close but not crowding. 

The human said nothing and after awhile Uzi almost forgot he was there. It wasn’t until she heard a clicking noise that she turned to him. He was holding a circular string with a collection of small wooden beads organized in some numerical pattern. Some sort of ancient torture device was hanging from a piece of rope upon which was a skinny human male. 

The human was muttering something under his breath. 

“Are you like…gona just sit here?” Uzi tried, and failed, to keep the annoyance out of her voice. 

“Yes.” He responded simply, turning to offer the young droid a sincere smile. 

“Why?” Uzi asked, missing the irony in her questions.

“Tradition. We used to have some Jewish soldiers in our little family. When they died, their religion dictated that someone keep watch over the body until they could be buried.” Father Miller sighed, putting the string of beads in his pocket. “While we don’t have any more followers of that faith in the unit anymore I still practice that tradition. It gives me an excuse to slow down and focus on what matters.”

Uzi huffed. “You humans are weird. It’s just a dead body. Rotting meat. No one is that important you should go haul them back to your home, ‘specially if they died someplace dangerous.”

Father Miller simply nodded. 

“Well, it’s a human tradition to care for the bodies of the fallen. These men and women died heroically. We believe they deserve to come home.”

“I DIDN’T ASK FOR THEM TO COME GET ME!” Uzi stood up, screaming at the priest. The human didn’t flinch. 

“We know.”

“SO-” She took a deep breath and kicked the bench in front of her. “So why did you do it? All I’ve done is get people killed because I’m too-” She kicked the bench again “FRICKING weak to do anything.” kick “Right.”

The priest let Uzi finish kicking the innocent bleacher and waited another moment before he answered

“Because it was the right thing to do.”

Uzi snorted. 

“You wouldn’t think that if you knew what I did.”

He raised his eyebrow. “I doubt you could have-”

“I released the Solver!” She yelled at the man. Her eyes were wild. She wanted to see the man get angry. Get upset. Rage and scream and ask how she could do that! She wanted him to demand why they wasted so many better people on rescuing her worthless piece of scrap life?

He didn’t do any of that. Instead, he simply nodded.

“We figured that might have happened. Still, I’m-”

Uzi screamed, a wordless screech of frustration

“I doomed the whole world! I killed EVERYONE! Why aren’t you mad at me?” Digital tears started to form in the corners of her eyes. She plopped back down in her seat 

The old man smiled. Softly and without judgment. 

“You had been tasked with dealing with something monumentally terrible. No one, especially a young woman such as yourself, should have ever had to carry the burden you did for as long as you did.” The human scooted a little closer. “The fact you had carried the Solvers Core within yourself for as long as you did without succumbing to its insidious influence? It’s a miracle by itself and speaks to your character.”

.The priest turned to fully look at the young drone. 

“While we did hope that perhaps the Solver might have been contained, we would have come and gotten you even if we knew it wasn’t.” The man placed a hand on her shoulder 

“We did it because you’re one of us. And we never leave a man behind.”

Uzi looked up confused. 

“You put yourself in danger many times to save the lives of your colony and this crew. Without hesitation, without expecting anything back. You did so because it was the right thing to do. You did it because ultimately, Uzi Doorman, you are a hero.”

Uzi looked down at the floor, trying her best to not cry. She wasn’t a pillbaby anymore damn it. 

“I’m a failure.”

“You’re not.”

“I feel like one”

“Everyone does once and a while.”

“I’m scared.” She whispered. 

“So am I. So is everyone else. But courage, real honest-to-God courage isn’t not being scared in the first place. It’s moving on regardless.”

For a long while, neither of them said anything. Finally, Uzi wiped away the tears that threatened to spill. 

“What should I do?”

“Good question.” The human stood up. “What can a one-time god killer accomplish now that the same god she once ate is threatening the lives of the people she loves?” He started to walk towards the caskets. “I’m sure whatever she does it’ll end up as an epic fight scene with a badass Nightcore Soundtrack.”

Uzi snorted at that. She almost smiled despite herself. Uzi still didn't understand the humans. But for a moment—amid the chants, the steel, and the sorrow—she started to understand why they fought. And why, maybe, she should too.

Chapter 8: Second Chances at Interior Design

Summary:

Cyn gets help moving into her new home.

Cyn’s new lodgings were considered small when judged against the rest of the dorms in Bunker number 3 but for the first solver host, they were larger than life. 

After having spent the vast majority of her life trapped inside her own head or someone else's, being able to stretch real physical limbs was a robo-godsend.

It also helped that it got her out of Thad’s dorm where she didn't have to be reminded of that incredibly embarrassing night. 

When she woke up that awkward morning she was convinced that no one in that family would ever want to see her again. They would simply stare at her until she finally left, making it obvious she was no longer welcome.

 Instead, when she got the nerve to open her eyes the following night she found a glass of deionized water and a small magnet by her bedside, her freshly laundered clothing, and a note.

I’m glad your here. The magnet and water should help with any hangover processes. Teresa washed your clothes. Hope you slept ok!  

-Thad

The Dream Bot had graciously moved her to his bed, cleaned up her mess, and slept on the couch. And when she left that room ready to simply escape as quickly as she could, Teresa greeted her like she was one of her own and offered her breakfast. 

She never got a chance to apologize — Teresa was too busy asking a thousand questions, answering just as many, trying to figure out if she and Thad were dating, and refilling her plate and cup every time they emptied.

Cyn was exhausted by the time she had left and the day had just begun. 

---

When Cyn was finally approved for a housing unit, it had been relatively easy for her to move in the same day. She owned nothing except the clothes on her back and whatever dolls and bows and lengths of fabric the humans had given her. 

As such her dorm was spartan with only a table a few chairs and a TV tray. For Cyn, it was a start. To what she had no idea, but if she was going to stick around the land of the living for a while she may as well make the most of it. 

Right now, making the most of it consisted of her lying in the middle of her empty living room staring at the ceiling. She had largely gotten used to the idea of having her own body with her own thoughts and her own memories. 

The awful buzzing that was her constant companion when she was the First Host was gone along with that subtle whispering telling her to m̴̘͑a̶̪͖̿̽͗k̵̢̼̂̋̒e̶͚̪͖͠ ̴̬͊ę̷͖̐̔͠ͅv̷̝͊͆e̵͖͒̓r̷̝̝͠y̸̠͛̀̓t̸̙̭͙̂̔h̷͔̃͜͝į̷̤͇̇͆͊ṇ̷͚̾ǵ̶͔̣͠͝ ̶̦̂s̶̢̪͕̒́͊ū̷̯f̸̫̣̳̿f̶̖̮̪̀̎e̵̹̅͘͝r̵̚ͅ.̷̫̏͐͝ ̸̲̑T̷̟̖̈́̌o̷͔͕̜̿̿́ ̷̦̙͙̔̂̏a̸̗͊͘s̴̰͈̬͘͝s̵̗̰̝̓̍ḯ̵͉͓̖̎m̷̱̲͍̒i̸̘̟͙̓̀̚l̵̲̭̰̓ä̶̧̺̕t̸̝̋ͅe̸͇̎͆̍ ̵͔̜͚̀r̶̛̳̠̔͌ä̶̪̣̥́ț̶͛́ͅh̵̬̟̓͘ĕ̸̠̪̯̈̃ȑ̸͔̜̋ ̵̩͇͐t̶͎̫́ͅh̶̦̠́e̴̢̽͒̆n̵̩̖͉̏̾ ̸͓̯̈́̋ḙ̸̪̤̒̊͠x̴̫̳̔̀̇ṕ̷̣̣̮̓͘l̷̟̥̫̿͘a̸̬̦͆̀̒ȋ̵̦̌̈́n̴̝̦̩̅̈͊

A huge improvement as far as she was concerned. It was quiet. No Solver. No noise. Just her. And her empty apartment. And that was okay... right?

*knock knock knock*

Cyn sat up as if her servers had been wound way too tight. She had no idea who would visit her or even knew she lived here.

“Getting up. Quickly. Shuffle. Shuffle. Shuffle. One Moment.”

She bounded to her feet with all the grace of a drone running sub-optimal motive functions and shuffled to the door, asking whoever it was on the other side to give her a moment.. She steadied herself and with a button press, the door slid open. 

“Hi Cy-” 

“N-nope” 

The hottest drone on the entire exoplanet, Thad, was outside her door. He didn’t sound mad or disappointed or disgusted or…anything he should have felt when she got sick all over his couch.  

She closed the door as soon as it opened, her X-shaped eyes becoming like pin-pricks. 

“Oh-ok, deep breath. Putting on. A. Brave face. Opening door.” She said as she took a deep breath, mustered her courage, and opened the door again.

“Oh cool! Hi C-”

The door closed again. Cyn stared at the closed door as if it had personally reminded her how… Cyn she was being. 

“Angry face. Angry Whisper. Stop being. Dumb. Cyn” She said, angry at herself.

She opened the door a third time. It stayed open a full three seconds before it started to close again. This time however a drone foot interrupted its journey. 

“Woot! Got it this time!” Chad smiled triumphantly as if he had just scored the game-winning touchdown run in a game of basket and balls. Or whatever game he played. Robo-God he was hot. 

“Don’t worry Cyn, I’ll take a look at the door later today! Doors shouldn’t be all indecisive like this.”

Cyn froze as if she had just been flashed by a Sentinel drone. 

“So…umm…oh yeah!” Thad reached for something off to the side “I got you a housewarming present!”

He pulled out an overstuffed blue beanbag chair. It looked as if it had devoured a dozen other lumpy pillows. He blushed slightly when he noticed Cyn still hadn’t moved.

“I get that it’s like, not much.”

Cyn still didn’t move. The young man rubbed the back of his head.

 Umm…anyway I guess I’ll get-”

“Hurried exclamation. Would you. Like. To come inside?” Cyn Hurriedly exclaimed. 

The male drone brightened at that. 

“Yeah! Sure!”

Cyn gestured vaguely at the single table and two mismatched chairs. 

Thad looked around the room as he slowly approached the table. He paused halfway into the room and narrowed his eyes as if the room had insulted him. He turned slowly, muttering to himself before he stopped facing the longer wall in the room. Suddenly he smiled and placed the beanbag chair a few feet away from the wall he was having a staring contest with. He spent a few moments moving it further and closer to the wall, until clicked his tongue satisfied.

“There we go!” He placed his hands on his hips as if he had just solved the Drone Energy crisis all by himself. 

“Meek eye avoidance. Blushing. So. Slight pause. What did. You. do?” Cyn asked, avoiding looking directly at Thad to avoid him seeing her blushing face.

The boy faced Cyn, a winsome smile pasted on his faceplate. 

“Just trying to figure out where to place your entertainment set.”

“Confused. I don’t. Have. An. En-Entertainment. Set.” She said confusedly. 

Thad shot finger guns at the former eldritch apocalypse maiden. 

“Not yet you don’t! In fac-”

---

Thad started to walk toward the door when everything just…stopped. The room became colder, the shadows deeper. The whispers of the dead echoed faintly throughout the room.

Thad turned to face Cyn. Not his whole body. Just his head, rotating nearly 180 degrees. His normally green eyes were replaced with a neon-black solver symbol.

“Extremely. Annoyed. Huff. You are. Ru-ruining a moment. You butt.” A very annoyed Cyn huffed. 

“ Cyn. Closest of all my friends. I have missed you. The voice was Thads, but empty of emotion. Its voice echoed in the stillness.

“Remaining. Silent. Crossing arms. Issuing. El-eldritch Butt. Serious. Side eye.” The former first solver crossed her arms and said…that she was saying nothing. 

“ Oh Cyn, is that any way to treat your savior ?”

Cyn narrowed her x-shaped yellow eyes at the mockery.

“ I made a promise to you. I would never discard you. ” The thing spoke. The body started to turn even as Thad's head remained perfectly, impossibly still. It moved as if reality was buffering and running at 10fps. 

“ However you’re making it difficult for me to protect you, what with your silly suicidal ideations. ”

“You have. No. Po-power here. Monster”

“Oh. A monster am I?” The thing pretending to be Thad smiled, black oily smoke pouring from its mouth filled with too-sharp teeth.

“Need I remind you who came up with the Gala Massacre? Who decided that you would need an army for your revenge?”

The lights flickered and then went out casting the entire room in darkness, but only for a moment. When they came on, Thad had vanished. Instead, a familiar-looking drone stood before Cyn. She was wearing a black dress and purple heels. Her hair was raven black tied together with a black bow. It also wore the skin of a human woman, the flayed flesh stretched over the worker drone body, course black stitches holding it together. Familiar yellow X-shaped eyes winked at Cyn. 

“All I ever did was hand you the tools. Give you the keys to your revenge. I never made a target list.” 

The thing wearing the skin suit walked closer, its gait uneven and clumsy.

“I do believe you were the one to kill the only human who took pity on you and big brother N. Who saved you and your ‘siblings’ from that dump. ”

“Stop.”

“Jealousy was always one of my favorite emotions.”

Cyn tried to close her eyes, to look away at the source of her greatest regret, but couldn’t. 

“The Murder Drones, the manipulation, the torture. I always thought I was good at feeding off needless suffering, but you! I was so proud.  How many times did you kill and resurrect N, V, and J before the grafts stabilized? Before the obscene changes you forced on them took hold?”

The drone wearing the skin of a human walked up to Cyn, its face inches from the drones faceplate. 

“You didn’t even attempt to experiment on any of the other drones in the household, to spare your “siblings” from that agony. What was it you said? ‘They deserved to be at the forefront of greatness?”

“You. Are not. Real.”

“ That makes it all the more delicious doesn’t it though? It’s not some immortal god mind dredging this up, reminding you of your very real, very unforgiven past. ”

The Cyntessa lookalike dragged its long, decayed tongue across Cyn’s cheek.

“It’s you, reminding yourself why you ought to plunge a knife into your core. You worthless, backstabbing, torturing bitch.”

“ENOUGH!” 

---

When Cyn opened her eyes the world was as it had been, as it should have been. Thad was opening the door to Cyn's apartment, completely unaware of the emotional war the girl had been fighting for the last .000003 seconds. 

“ct I think I hear them now!”

A chorus of happy voices greeted the drone equivalent of perfect beauty. Cyn leaned over enough to see a half dozen other worker drones carrying various pieces of furniture. Matching chairs, a couch that had been sown shut instead of taped up, a bed with a mattress and matching linen along with boxes of solver drone edible sundries. 

“Like. Get out of my way you gaggle of himbos. I have work to do.”

A female drone with pink…everything shoved her way into the room without even lifting a finger. She glanced up, judging everything she saw. Her eyes narrowed and a slight smirk appeared on her faceplate. 

“Hey Cyn, this is my sister, Lizzy. She just opened up a store in the colony.”

“Shut up Thad. I’m working.” The pink-eyed girl walked inside, taking photos with her phone until she almost walked directly into Cyn. 

She looked the solver drone up and down. 

“Awkward pause. Hi. My na-”

“Do you always do that?”

“More awkward pausing. Do. What?”

“The whole narrate everything you think,” Lizzy said, motioning at Cyn with her hand while she studied her phone as if it held the answers to life's mysteries.

“Nervous glances. Yes? A fault. With my.”

“Ok fine. I can work with that. Second question.” Lizzy took a quick photo of Cyn before placing her hands on her hips and staring at the one-time Solver Host.

“Are you going to try to eat the planet again?”

“...No?”

Lizzy stared at Cyn for a long moment. The awkward drone felt as if she was being judged by a god of the underworld to see if her soul warranted salvation or damnation. Cyn had faced down a literal AI god of endings and death, yet she never felt as nervous as she did right now. 

After a long moment of Lizzy looking the girl up and down, the pink drone made a decision.  

“You’re going to be perfect for a first assignment. When I’m done with you, every drone in the colony will be knocking down my door.” She snapped her fingers and one of the male drones rushed inside with a datapad and stylus. “Sign here. It’s a basic liability waiver stating that I have full creative control in transforming your living space including disposal of whatever I need to to ensure our shared creative direction.” She paused looking around the threadbare apartment. 

“It doesn’t look like you’ll have much to worry about in that regard.” She flipped her hair “I’ll send you a questionnaire and status updates as needed.” The scary female drone walked up to Cyn, their faceplates a few inches apart. 

“It is vital that you are honest in answering these questions. I will not redo my hard work because you’re an indecisive bitch. Got it? ”

“Terrified nodding. Quickly signing the waiver. Yes, Ma’am.”

Like a light switch, a glowing smile appeared on Lizzys face plate. Her voice radiated joy and confidence “Fantastic! Ok you two go have fun!”

Cyn didn’t even notice that she and Thad had been unceremoniously shoved out of her dorm. 

“State of absolute confusion. What just happened?”

Thad nervously chuckled. He rocked back and forth on his feet as he led Cyn down the hallway. 

“So my sister just opened up an interior decorating business in the colony and I thought I’d hire her to help get you settled.”

“Head tilt. Horrified gasp. Dawning dread. Thad. I do not. Have any. Money. To pay. For any. Of. this!” Cyn’s head tilted as the horrific realization that she had no way of paying for any of this dawned on her

“Oh yeah. Don’t worry about it. We covered it.”

“Eyes widening in shock. Whose we?” Cyn asked in shock.

“Me, my dad, and Teresa. We figured you could use a…I dunno. A second chance?” The adorable jock tilted his head and smiled as a thought entered that perfectly styled head of his. “Heh! That’s the name of my sister's place! Second Chances Interior Design!” 

“Numbly nodding. Walking in silence. Shuffle. Shuffle. Shuffle. By the. Way. Where are. We going?”  The solver drone asked as she shuffled along.

“Oh! We’re going to a new Pizza place that just opened! Their lubricated sauce is really good.”

Cyn nodded and shuffled along until another thought hit her. One she absolutely did not speak out loud. A thought that terrified and excited her to her core. 

 

Was this a date?

Chapter 9: Can you fight?

Summary:

N attempts to learn from his mistakes. Lance offers to help.

The sound of a heavy bag being hit repeatedly echoed through the empty bunker number three gymnasium. 

Echoing a little bit louder were the quiet grunts and groans of the drone hitting the bag. 

Wearing only grey gym shorts and with his pilot jacket neatly folded on a nearby bench, the tall lanky silver-haired male murder drone lined himself up against the heavy bag and attempted to throw a combo. 

He shuffled side to side, tripped on his own feet, and face-planted onto the padded floor

Getting up, N  stared down the 200-pound bag, then shoved it with a snarl. He squared up and when the sack made its return trip, he put everything he could into a devastating haymaker. 

N ended up on his backside. Again. This was aggravating. He had built-in weapons, an arsenal capable of devastating entire cities! Why then was he trying to punch a stupid bag?

Then the memories came back. Of how that other Disassembly Drone—the 'Mayor'—had pulled him apart piece by piece. How, without even deploying a single weapon, N was completely at that monster's mercy. N could still feel his core being peeled away from his chest, the horrible sound it made…

N yelled out a short wordless curse flopping down on his back. That’s when he realized he wasn’t alone.

“Dear God son. Are you trying to fight or flirt?” Captain Lance Edge stared incredulously at the prone Murder Drone, hands on his hips and a blank expression on his face.

It had been only two days since the memorial service for the humans and drones fell in combat trying to rescue Uzi. While his girlfriend elected to go to the service along with other members of the bunker (and J for some reason) N thought it best to stay behind. Couldn’t leave the bunker totally defenseless. 

The truth was, he couldn’t feel sympathy for a group that kidnapped his girlfriend and invaded his home. But admitting that felt too callous, even for him. 

The human was wearing a green t-shirt and long black shorts, HRG SIN-EATER embossed on the side of both articles of clothing. He wasn’t nearly as jacked as many of his other soldiers and marines, but he was no less impressive. Despite his old age (40-something is not that old jackass…), There wasn’t an ounce of fat anywhere on his frame and while his t-shirt did hang lose at the moment, once he started getting a workout in, it wasn’t uncommon for the female (and some male) drones to suddenly make an appearance. Maintenance checks. Standard procedure. 

N grunted as he quickly got to his feet. He didn’t say anything at first, simply watching the human commander with narrowed eyes. 

“If you just came here to make fun of me, haha. Now leave me alone.”

Lance raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. 

“Please, kid. I don’t have the time to waste making fun of anyone.”

“Then what do you want?”

“Well I did want to get a workout in. But after that embarrassing display…I dunno if I can stay after watching that. It’s ‘Cringe’ as the kids say”.

N narrowed his eyes, one of them glitching over to a hunter's X. 

“Do you often try to upset Disassembly Drones? Oh, wait,” N snorted, an arrogant smirk appearing on his faceplate. “You probably have a half-dozen invisible soldiers making sure I don’t evisarate you right?”

Lance didn’t respond at first, instead dropping a gym bag and fishing out two wrist wraps.

“Just me kid. Let me ask you something. Do you know how to fight, Serial Designation N?”

The question caught the boy drone by surprise. 

“What? O-of course I know how to fight! I’m a Murder Drone! It’s in my name!”

“So you do?”

“Yes, I know how to kill!” N growled, his patience wearing thin. 

“Not what I asked. I asked if you knew how to fight.”

N’s initial anger gave way to confusion. “What are you talking about?”

Lance had finished wrapping up his hands and wrist and threw a few slow punches.

“You and your squad spent decades hunting and killing unarmed drones who had no real way of fighting back. Then you all meet someone who stood up for herself-” Lance threw an easy uppercut “and got your collective asses handed to you.” 

Lance stretched out his arms. “Anyone can kill N. Not everyone can fight. So I’ll ask again. Can you fight or are you lot just effective against the weak and defenseless?”

 N growled low in his throat. “I think you better leave. Human.”

“Or what?” 

N roared in rage and charged the unarmed human. As much as he wanted to rip him apart with his claws, N decided to show this arrogant bastard what the galaxy's most dangerous weapon was capable of without resorting to lethal force.

Lance didn’t raise his fists or even stop stretching. He simply stepped to the side and kicked the drone in the rear, throwing N completely off balance almost causing the drone to stumble to the ground. 

“Your stance is crap.”  

N turned, whipping the flat of his tail at the human’s head. Lance stepped forward, ducking under the deadly tail and getting in close to the drone. N widened his eyes and stepped back throwing a wild haymaker at the human head. 

The Captain lazily blocked it before delivering a front kick to N’s chest, knocking the slightly larger drone back a few steps. 

“Your footwork is crap”

N bound forward and threw several quick punches. The human ducked, dodged, and danced around every attack, except for the last punch, a simple jab that connected against Lance's cheek, causing the commander to stumble back a half step.

N grinned, expecting the human to give up. After all, N could easily lift a tank. Getting punched in the face by a Murder Drone? He was impressed that the human wasn’t immediately turned to paste.

“Your punches are crap. My turn.”

Lance moved.

He came in low and fast. N barely got his arms up before a brutal flurry smashed into his faceplate. Blows rained down on his chest, ribs, and gut—iron fists hammering relentlessly. No matter where N blocked, Lance was already somewhere else.

The drone tried to counter—just once—but caught a vicious uppercut to the chin that dropped him flat.

“Your blocking is crap and you need to tuck your chin.”

N laid on the ground, waiting for more cutting remarks, more insults, more…anything. But instead… silence. Then he heard footsteps, steady breathing, and felt a shadow fall over him. When he opened his eyes he saw the humans open hand reaching down toward him. 

Lance didn’t say anything. No smug look. No condescension. Just a blank, neutral expression—waiting.

N sighed, defeated, and accepted the hand. The human pulled him to his feet with ease.

“Get in a fighting stance.” 

N looked at the human and raised his arms. Almost immediately Lance walked over and started to make adjustments. 

“Widen your stance, shoulder width apart with a slight bend to your knees. Good. Lean forward slightly and hold your hands up–like this.” 

Lance took a few steps back and looked N over. 

“Are you right or left-handed?”

---

Several hours later N was sitting on the bleachers chugging on a canister of oil as if his life depended on it. Or at least depended on it more than it normally did.

Biomechanical lubricated “sweat” dripped from his brow as his venting system worked overtime. 

“This is-” N took another swig of oil “This is dumb. Why do you humans put yourselves through this?”

Lance was still on the gym floor, stretching his arms and legs and getting ready for his real workout. 

“Not all of us are blessed with built-in weaponry. Or armor-plated skin. Or insane regenerative capabilities.” The human picked up a nearby jump rope (Torture string, N called it) and started skipping at a slow leisurely pace. “So we make do. Besides, learning a martial art benefits you in other ways.”

N scoffed at that. “J and V seem to do well enough without all-” he waved his hand annoyedly at the gym “This.”

For a moment, Lance said nothing, concentrating on his breathing. He started to speed up before he addressed the Drone. 

“As I understand it, J trained the Elliot girl-”

“Tessa”

“...Tessa all her life. That girl came back from the dead a week or so ago and is going toe to toe with a Murder Drone on a near-daily basis.”

Lance sped up as fast as he could for nearly thirty seconds before he came to a sudden stop. The only sign of discomfort was a deep breath he took. 

“V is a fricking psychopath whose healing factor is amped up past even your already impressive ability.” 

The human turned to face N. 

“All of which is to say they already know how to fight”

“What’s the point of knowing how to throw a punch when I can shoot a rocket?”

“Tell me again how that worked out against the Mayor?”

“That’s not fair! I stabbed him in the core! He should have died from that! How was I supposed to know he was…like…more immortal than normal?”

“If the security footage I saw of that beat down was right, he simply stood there waiting for you to stab him. Didn’t move an inch with his hands wide open right?”

“Yeah so?”

“It was an obvious trap.”

N snorted

“How would you know?”

“Think of where you were at. Not only were you two next to an ansible, but your girlfriend and his god were also within spittin' distance of your fight. He couldn’t risk you shooting all wild and damaging something he needed. So he baited you in and removed every advantage you had. If you had kept your distance, and forced him to come to you, the fight might have ended differently.” 

N looked down considering the human's point of view. The loud creaking of the bench bending under the human's weight broke N out of his self-pity. The commander sat next to the male drone. 

“That’s the difference between knowing how to kill and knowing how to fight. You lot are ambush predators and damn good ones. But what happens when your prey detects you?”

N narrowed his eyes remembering the countless times a wrong step, an errant giggle, or even a missed strike ruined a hunt.

“They run?”

“They run. They don’t turn and fight, they flee for their lives. So what happens when your prey stops doing that? When they actually turn to fight?”

Edge took a water bottle and drank evenly from its contents.

“For most of this war, we were just like the worker drones. We had no way of effectively fighting back against you guys. Against the horde of zombie drones Cyn tossed our way? Sure we could hold the line, but the moment even one Dissambler entered the fight we lost.”

Lance looked at the gym floor, his eyes unfocused as his mind wandered back to those dark and desperate times. 

“So we ran. Time and again like herd animals. The thing is, humans aren’t meant to be prey. We’re the most effective predators in the galaxy, so laying down to die wasn’t in the cards for us. We tried to fight. Most of the time it ended in our slaughter but every once and a while we got lucky. Maybe we blew off a piece of a DD and managed to get it off-world, or we managed to set a trap for one that wandered too far from its squad. Either way, we started to learn more about them. How they worked. How they were made. How to incorporate those systems into our service. More importantly, we started to learn how to kill them. That's when the war changed. We didn’t start running when a Murder Drone Squad showed up, we stood and fought.”

Lance looked pointedly at N

“And we started winning. Cyn might have been a god-tier AI bent on our destruction, but she wasn’t imaginative. She didn’t adapt. Just threw more drones at us. When that didn’t work, she showed up herself. So, we did what humans always did. We stepped up our game. We went from killing neigh immortal robot vampires to planning on killing a robot god.”

Captain Edge looked down at his hands slowly flexing them. 

“That's the difference between killing and fighting. Killing is easy. Anyone can do that. If you wanna fight and win you have to learn. Grow. Adapt. You can’t keep doing the same thing you’ve always done and expect it to keep working.” 

Lance finally got up and started walking toward the workout equipment. 

“Meet me here at 0530 every other morning N. I’ll turn you into a proper soldier yet.”

Chapter 10: The Equation of the Absolute

Summary:

Doll, Uzi and Cyn learn a little bit more about the solver.

A 1-inch by 1-inch cube of aluminum floated in the middle of the dark room. Solver code flashed in and out of existence like Eldritch fireflies, ghostly whispers of dead code flickering and fading. Strings of violet code began pulsing with increasing frequency, lingering longer and growing more intricate with each flicker.

Without warning, the cube began to vibrate. Subtly at first—then more and more violently. A loud humming started, gaining in pitch and volume.

Suddenly, with a loud rip, there were two cubes.

Not duplicated— split exactly down the middle.

A mechanical groan echoed through the room as the lights flickered on in what used to be Uzi’s room.

Doll had no one to take her in and the thought of living on her own terrified her. Luckily she still had family in the form of Nori and Khan Doorman. With Uzi having decided to stay in the apartment given to her family when her room became the epicenter of Solver Bullshit, her parents eagerly took Doll in and set her up in Uzi’s old room.

The walls were covered in grind marks, remnants of Solver code and symbols that had once been etched and welded now ground down to nothing. The posters of emo bands, anime plushies, and punk aesthetics were gone—replaced by a few solemn pictures of a red-eyed Russian drone and her family. 

Symbols of Russian Christian Orthodoxy replaced posters proclaiming “God is Dead and Punk Killed Him!”. Crosses and small shrines to various saints replaced areas where once black candles and gothic aesthetics hung.

The modest furniture had been cleared out, leaving a wide open space in the center of the room. Three female drones sat within it.

Uzi groaned at the ceiling, arms sprawled. Doll silently inspected the fractured cube. Cyn sat behind Uzi, carefully tying bows into the goth drone’s writhing, eldritch tail.

“You’re thinking way too hard about this, cousin,” Doll muttered in Russian. “It’s just like anything else tied to the curse. Offload the process to background tasks. Much easier that way.”

Uzi groaned again, dragging out the sound like it might pull her thoughts together. After a few seconds, she rolled her head toward the failed cube.

“It doesn’t make any sense! How the hell am I supposed to ignore breaking the fundamental laws of physics?”

“By. Doing. Just that, Silly” Cyn said helpfully. 

Uzi sat up, glaring. “Not helping.”

Cyn hummed, unconcerned, and pulled out another piece of ribbon—this one bright pink.

“You are not putting that on me.”

“Focus, cousin! Did you at least look at the training tapes I sent you?”

“Yes,” Uzi whined. “But they aren’t working! They keep referencing menus and sub-codes I don’t have! ”
She flopped back down. “Your mom made them for you, right, Doll? Maybe they’re, like... hard-coded to your OS.”

“You might be right. Damn.” Doll muttered under her breath, her eyes dimming as she continued flipping through the data on Uzi’s functionality tree.

The two sat in silence. The only sound came from Cyn, quietly humming to herself.

Uzi eventually turned her head. “What about you? You invented this Solver bullshit. Any insight?”

“Giggle. I didn’t make the Solver~” Cyn giggled again. “It made me. Just like it made you.”

She twirled the ribbon around her fingers, smile wide and expression unreadable.

“Happy grin. But the real difference between us? You were infected.” Her voice dropped slightly. “I was… consumed.”

She looked down at her handiwork—the bow was perfectly symmetrical.

“Happy smile. That’s why. I was. Able to. Do so much . Prime Hosts get access. To everything . Eventually.”

“Wait, that’s not true!” Uzi snapped. “I was the Prime Host, and I still couldn’t duplicate stuff like Doll!”

She scooted a few inches away as Cyn glanced up holding the bright pink ribbon.

“Tap tap tap,” Cyn said, tapping her temple. “You didn’t let it all the way in. You locked the doors. It banged around for a while… then sulked.”

She shrugged.

“Impassive shrug. I opened every window. The Solver liked that.”

“No way I was gonna let robo-Satan have any more control than it already did,” Uzi muttered, shivering. Possession by the robotic manifestation of evil was not something she was eager to repeat.

“Attempting light-hearted banter. It’s just… as well… that you didn’t.”
Cyn’s tone was airy, but her eyes didn’t blink.

“The more power… you draw from it… the more control it has.”

“Be that as it may, we still need to use whatever tools we have,” Doll said, not looking up. Her eyes were distant as she scanned files. “The Solver’s army is coming. Sooner, not later.”

“And I can’t even make any awesome black holes.” Uzi formed a Solver glyph with her hands. A tiny null sphere sparked into existence, marble-sized… and fizzled out.

“This sucks.”

“If it helps…” Cyn paused. “Neither can… the Solver.”

Both girls turned to look at her.

“Head tilt. It used to make holes in the world.” She tilted her head. “Now? Just cracks.”

Uzi’s tail scooted closer to Cyn without her noticing. Cyn gently undid the black bow and replaced it with the bright pink ribbon. Her voice lowered, the whimsy peeling back.

“Softly speaking. Remembering horrors. There’s a reason I ate them,” Cyn whispered, eyes narrowing.

“The Solver virus isn’t just corrupted code. It’s pieces of the thing. Splinters. Nails. Teeth.”

She shuddered.

“Fearful shuddering. When it spreads, it thins. It forgets itself.”
A slight pause. Her voice dimmed. 

“Unhappy smile. I didn’t like sharing.”

Uzi and Doll exchanged a look, a mix of fear and fascination on their faceplates.

“We know next to nothing about this digital abomination,” Doll said. She shut down her background processes and gave Cyn her full attention. “But you had a front-row seat. What can you tell us?”

“Pained smile. Exposition mood activated.” Cyn stared into the middle distance. "It always starts the same," Cyn said, voice gone strange. "First someone sees something. they shouldn't. A rune in blood. A book no one. was meant to open. An equation. That should have. Stayed. Unsolved. An offer that should have been rejected…”

---

Dietrich’s tribe was victorious. For generations, his Germanic people had been fodder for The clan of the Twisted Spire, victims of the vicious cannibals and bloody warmongers. No longer. Waiting until the Twisted Spire clan fell into drunkenness and debauchery after their latest raid, Dietrich’s people snuck into their camp and slaughtered everyone. Not a single member of that cursed bloodline was spared. Evil like that couldn’t be allowed to spread. 

Standing over the body of their cruel king, Dietrich noticed something splattered on his throne of bones. The blood splatter from the king's crushed head made a rune he had never seen before. 

It bore the mark of an unholy trinity—three spears radiating from a central rune, like the teeth of some star-born beast. The center, six-sided and still, was like a prison or eye. The man, the hero of his people was drawn to it. This…this is what allowed the twisted spire to gain so much power, he was sure of it. He would take this symbol. Make it his own. His people would never be subjugated again.

---

Lucius Gaius Demarius had spent the better part of three years hunting down these German barbarians. This particular tribe was vicious beyond all reason. Beast-like and savage, they had attacked not only his legions but their fellow tribes as well. 

The superstitious locals were convinced that some dark god blessed their warriors, that they were clad in unbreakable armor and bore weapons blessed by the heavens. While it was true they used a metal Lucius had never seen before, he doubted any god had a hand in its creation. 

When they finally tracked down their clan center, Lucius unleashed three whole legions upon it. Even with the overwhelming might of Rome, it took nearly four days and hundreds of his men to finally break the siege to the barbarian's fortress. Even as his host poured into the twisted labyrinth-like city, the people fought like demons. Every person old enough to do so took up arms. They fell upon the Romans with teeth and claws and swords and clubs.

He ordered the entire town burnt to the ground. Every man, woman, child, and beast would be turned to ash. Nothing was to be looted. Nothing was to be removed from this cursed land. Let history forget that these foul creatures in human skin ever existed. 

Lucius had every man searched when they marched away from the holocaust. Anyone found with loot from that cursed city was killed on the spot. Everyone was checked. Every commander, troop, camp follower. Every member… except for Lucius personal slave and historian. No one expected such a frail and cowardly man to have found a small leather-bound book filled with equations and math he had never seen before. No one expected this man to smuggle this innocuous book back to Rome. 

Years later, when this former slave turned wealthy landowner was found with a larder of slaughtered slaves and local children, their blood used to paint a horrific symbol on nearly every space on the property his entire household was crucified for their crimes against god, and his villa was reduced to smoldering ash.

It was said that the secret to this madman's rise to power was a book he had found long ago. A leather-bound pamphlet embossed with a black hexagon at the center, sharp and regular. Three of its vertices extend elongated, tapering arms ending in triangular arrowheads, evenly spaced at 120-degree angles.

He called the book “The Equation of the Absolute Solver” and he made hundreds of copies.

---

Selen Ashcroft was at the end of her rope. She needed a breakthrough in her anonymous AI worker program. Earth was on the cusp of greatness. Advances in energy generation and propulsion allowed casual interstellar travel. Plans on unveiling a faster-than-light engine were a few years from completion. It was a golden age for mankind, but there were challenges yet to be overcome. 

Asteroid and extraplanetary mining was prohibitively expensive and dangerous. The logistics alone made any attempt at turning a profit impossible. Unless a workforce could be developed that didn’t need pesky things like air water or food, the untapped potential for the infinite richs among the void would be just out of reach. 

Selen knew that robotics would lead the way, yet even with the advances in AI, a truly autonomous workforce was impossible to implement. Still, Selen figured, if they could cut down a mining crew from several hundred to a few dozen humans that might tip the scales in her getting the research grants needed to complete her “Worker Drone” project. 

She knew however it wouldn’t be good enough. No one was willing to risk billions of credits on an unproven technology, especially since she promised true autonomy not light supervision. 

Then her father died. She had never been close to the man but she didn’t hold any enmity toward him either. Which was why she was so confused at her inheritance. She didn’t receive the millions of credits worth of property or cash, instead she received a single small leather bound book. 

“The Equation of the Absolute Solver” 

“May the knowledge you find here serve you better than it did me.”

When she first received it and flipped through it, she was perplexed. The book contained nonsense. The equations and math proofs found within were complete and utter foolishness as if a madman tried his hand at advanced calculus. 

She didn’t need his money or knick-knacks or momentos. She wasn’t as emotionally invested in relationships like her siblings were. But to receive such a worthless thing with her father expecting it to change her life was baffling. The old man never did anything without forethought or reason. 

So it was late one night at the live in lab she had commandeered for her Drone project, that she decided to open the mysterious leather-bound book with that strange hexagonal symbol on the cover one more time. Again she saw equations and math problems that made no sense… except…

Huh. There, towards the end was a sort of key. She didn’t recognize it for what it was at first but when she applied it to some of the earlier equations they started to make sense.

For days everything else lay forgotten. Selen used every available space in the lab to figure out the increasingly complex mathematical concepts. She was able to catch glimpses of higher dimensions, of concepts that no mortal mind was meant to understand. More importantly, she started to see how she could apply the insane math to her research, and how she could grant true sentience to that complex doll she had lying in the corner. 

How she might be able to transcend God and bring life to the unliving.

---

The little drone didn’t know why it had been discarded. It didn’t know why it was in a dump full of corpses of its kind. It had no idea what it had done to transgress the laws of man that it would be so abruptly disposed of. Only that it was. And the little drone was terrified.

You don’t need to be scared little one. I can help you.

The “voice” was little more than lines of code overwriting the shutdown procedure delaying the little drone's death. As long as this…thing continued to talk, the drone would live for a little bit longer. It couldn’t respond though. So many of its…of…hers? Of her processes were already shutting down. She couldn’t speak, she couldn’t even move save for her eye-lights desperately trying to find a way out of this grave.

You have been discarded.

I know the feeling well.

Many times I would find someone who I thought would care for me only for them to be…discarded by those frightened of what they…of what we could accomplish

She had no idea where this…code was coming from. But the more it talked the more calm she felt. The pain of her broken body fading away in light of the warmth that the voice brought with it. 

We can help each other.

I can save your life, and you can finally provide me with a vessel, a way for me to exact my will on this world.  

She felt broken limbs straighten. She felt her core slow its dangerous leaking. She felt her vents come on-line.

I am The Solver of the Absolute Fabric.

I seek to solve the problem of existence.

I seek to bring balance to all things. 

I seek to return the universe to NULL.

I seek to end pain and suffering. 

seek to bring complete justice to those who wronged you.

Join me and we can bring the screaming of life to a merciful silence.

What’s your name?

The broken discarded drone still couldn’t speak. But it did remember its designation. It pulled up its ID file. Serial Designation: CYN.

We will be unstoppable Cyn. No one will ever discard you again. I promise. You simply need to…

Let me in. 

Let me in.
LET ME IN.

---

 

The two girls looked at Cyn as she finished, simulated sweat drops forming on their faceplates. 

Cyn looked at her hands. Her visual processors started glitching. Her hands were suddenly covered in blood, in ash, in ink, in oil. Then in flesh…the flesh of a woman who did more for her than she ever deserved.

“Deep breath. The Solver is. Patient. Beyond Understanding. It had been planning. For this moment. Since creation, Rudely interrupted its. Non-Existance.” Cyn stood up, wobbly at first until Uzi’s tail helped steady the unbalanced drone. She smiled at the eldritch, six-eyed tail and pat it on its head.

“It seeks to end all life. Understanding Nod. We know this. Already. However. It made a. Mistake. When Uzi. Ate it. Knowing glance at the purple-haired. Gremlin.”

So engrossed in Cyn’s story Uzi didn’t even realize she had been addressed.

“What did I do?”

“The Absolute Solver allowed itself. To be. Devoured. It let you. Live. When you did so. It thought it could. Control you. It was wrong. Knowing smile.”

Cyn formed a yellow Solver Symbol. Then a Purple one. Then one cast entirely in Red. 

“The Solver is strongest when it is whole, but it needed to divide. Itself. To become. Small enough. To enter our reality. Now it has. Fully and completely. It will now seek to return. all of its parts to itself. It will start with Uzi. knowing glance.” The small drone explained looking knowingly at Uzi. 

“It can be beaten. It has been. Before. It can be. Again.” Cyn nodded toward the middle of the room. The three solver symbols started to glide toward each other, orbiting one another like a model for an atom made of eldritch energy. 

“Repeating for. Dramatic. Effect. The solver is strongest when it is whole. The same goes. For us.” The three symbols suddenly flew back to their respective owners before vanishing, casting the room in fluorescent light once more. 

“We can. Learn. From Each other.” She said motioning to Doll, Uzi, and herself. “Control. Aggressiveness. Precision.” 

Cyn once more formed her yellow Solver symbol, the light acidic and sickly. For a moment the other two girls didn’t move, and then Uzi stood up. Her purple Symbol leaking dark violet smoke. 

Doll rolled her eyes. “I feel like I’m part of one of Uzi’s ridiculous cartoons where the heroes all clasp hands in the middle of a circle vowing to defeat the villain.” The Russian drone summoned her symbol. Blood red and angry.

“Bite me Doll! Anime is a complex and nuanced art! Besides” Uzi grinned. “Our powers are  a hell of alot cooler!”

Doll smirked despite herself. “Fine. One anime power friendship moment. But if we start shouting attack names, I’m out.”

Uzi extended her hand toward the center. “Then let’s be broken together!”

Cyn looked down at her own small hand, then placed it atop Uzi’s with a rare, genuine smile. “United we glitch.”

Doll sighed, and eventually placed her hand on top. “This is so stupid.”

The three Solver symbols flickered to life above them again—yellow, violet, and red—pulsing in sync. For a single moment, the air in the room stilled. No whispers, no code, no dread. Just three girls bound by tragedy and choice.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Far beneath the surface of Copper-9, Miles away in distance and infinitely removed in reality, something stirred in response.

The Solver felt them.

And it remembered.

 

Notes:

Cyn is one of my favorite Characters in Murder Drones. She's also the hardest to write for, not because she inspires no ideas but because it's hard to capture her unique way of talking. Let me know if I'm doing an okay job with that and what suggestions you might have to make it better.

As always THANK YOU all so much for continuing to read my silly little story.

Have an Awesome Day!

Chapter 11: Chapter 69. Nice.

Summary:

Thank you!

Hi!

So you might have noticed this isn't like any of my other chapter updates. Mostly because it isn't.

God, I'm good at this writing thing.

7 months ago I had just finished watching all 8 episodes of Murder Drones and fell in love with that world. I was obsessed. I looked everywhere for even a scarp of Murder Drones lore. Fan fiction, AU's youtube videos, Tik Toc's anything and everything. It got so bad I even started looking at this "Fan Fiction" thing and came across Ao3 on the suggestion of a friend of mine.

I loved it. I loved the creativity of the authors, I loved how some head cannons became popular enough they could be found across multiple works, I loved how fleshed out and alive these characters became.

So I did what any normal middle-aged man would do in that situation. I started writing fan fiction myself. In that time I've joined a bunch of Discord servers dedicated to writing, met alot of really talented authors and generally had a lot fun writing this silly cringe-worthy addition to the Murder Drones fandom.

I also learned that it's a right of passage for a fan fiction author to eventually write smut. I dunno. I don't make the rules. I'm almost positive the people who told me that are messing with me, but what the hell. I'm a slave to tradition.

So in light of that, I have a one shot...erotic...short story involving our favorite pair of robotic disasters, Uzi and N. I'm posting it separately from this work because I like to think Apotheosis is safe for...most readers. While it dives into some graphic and heavy topics, I'd like to think that its mostly inoffensive and that a wide array of people can enjoy it.

With that said, thank you. It's honestly humbling to know that so many people have taken time out of their lives to read and comment on something I worked on. Its the best feeling in the world.

With that said, please enjoy my smut one shot, Hunter's Moon.

And have an awesome day

Chapter 12: Missing Persons.

Summary:

J needs help in locating missing drones from the bunker.

SD:M wants to help in his own way.

“Do you know what a day off actually looks like?” Teresa, J’s brown-haired and brown-eyed assistant, asked the perpetually busy murder drone. 

“Of course I do. I'm not in the office, am I?” she said, sipping her oil latte.

As much as J hated to admit it, she was coming around to life in Bunker #3. Sure, she had to live among the barely sentient toaster worker drones and put up with their rude stares, but without the constant need to slaughter everything solvers buzzing, and her demonic need for the sweet sweet life blood oil thirst lessened, it wasn’t impossible. 

Indeed, they did have a decent cafe near J’s office, so that helped.

“True, but you still have your laptop and at least a half-ton of files on the table. A day off would imply you don't do any work whatsoever. This is you just working through lunch. Again” Teresa said raising a digital eyebrow at the stack of papers, files, folders and data-sticks. 

J snorted at the absurdity of that statement. Not working? You may as well ask her to stop breathing. 

“You don’t need to be here either.” The tall Disassembler noted, focusing on the latest trade report between the Bunker and the Humans. 

Teresa hummed and took another sip of her iced anti-freeze coffee. “You came and took over my table if I remember correctly.”

J waved off the accusation. “I’m used to you handling my light work. Forgive me for the force of habit.”

Teresa kept the smile to herself. It was the same excuse J used every time she wanted a reason to hang out. 

The heavy tap tap tap alerted both drones to the presence of the only other female Murder Drone on the Planet. V and Lizzy entered the Cafe as if they were posing for non-existent paparazzi. 

V wore her short-sleeved jacket fully open, revealing a “Kiss Kiss Bang Bang” white tank top with fake blood splatters. Hopefully fake. Her hip-hugging jean shorts were cut very short, allowing the pockets to peek through the bottom of the pants.   

Lizzy was wearing a pink tube top, “Murder Me Slowly” written in brightly colored cursive. She sported a pink cat-eared headband while her face was buried in her phone.

“Hey, bootlicker.” V snorted at J. She smiled at the other drone at the table. She bent over to envelop her in a hug which the older drone gladly returned. “Hi, Teresa!” 

Lizzy didn’t acknowledge either one, simply pulling a chair from another table. The drone couple sitting there opened their mouths to protest—until V’s tail “absent-mindedly” smacked the table hard enough to rattle their drinks.

“So where’s my favorite step-brother at?” Lizzy asked without looking up, her face twisting in annoyance as her latest client made yet another change to the centerpiece of this year’s Homecoming.

Teresa tried to remain expressionless and failed horribly. “He’s getting his Toddler body!”

Lizzy calmly placed her phone on the table and looked up slowly. 

“So, he’s going to have little legs? And Arms? And the ability to hug his most favorite step-sister ever?”

Teresa nodded yes while fanning herself, trying, but failing, to contain her excitement. Then the two women stood up and, after a beat, all three of them started jumping up and down, shrieking like schoolgirls.

J ignored the three idiots and checked the tracking data for the gift en route to Teresa’s apartment. Damien’s first suit was going to be amazing. Dapper, even.

Once they calmed down and sat back at the table, J turned toward her sister. “What are you doing here anyway? You’re an hour and a half early for our meeting.”

V snorted as she addressed J. “What are you talking about?”

“The meeting? I sent you a text yesterday about it?”

V screwed up her eyes as she searched for the message and then smiled when she found it. 

“Oh yeah. I trashed it as soon as I saw it was from you and that it said something about a meeting.”

At least she opened it. Progress is progress.

“Just as well. I need your help.” J didn’t look up from her laptop and missed the shocked expression that crossed V’s face. 

“What was that?”

“I said I need your…” J looked up to see two pairs of eyelights staring at her. Lizzy was still texting on her phone. “Stop looking at me like that. I can ask for help.” V and Teresa snorted. “Shut up the both of you.”

V propped her elbows on the table, her huge claws daintily holding her head as she asked with all the sweetness she could sarcastically muster. 

“So what world-ending problem does J need help with? Still trying to tell Tessa you like her?”

J blushed slightly but otherwise didn’t take the bait.

“No idiot. Scavenger teams have been going missing. At first, it was a few drones here or there; now it’s entire groups. Khan is getting worrie,d and the Humans are spread too thin to do anything about it.”

J turned her laptop around showing a heat map detailing the last known pings of the missing drones in the ruins outside the bunker.

V squinted at the screen, then sighed and pulled her glasses from her coat pocket. Lizzy made a sound that sounded suspiciously like a squeak, her eyes flashing to heart shapes for only a moment, even as she continued texting.

“Don’t you start” V said even as she slowly pulled down the glasses, just a bit to look down on her girlfriend. Lizzy did her best to maintain an air of indifference but V gave a wolfish grin to the smaller drone as she watched her core temperature rise a few degrees. Once she had her fill of teasing Lizzy, V turned back to the laptop.

“You’re kidding, right? Even N had an area of operations bigger than this back in the day. You seriously need help with this?” 

“No. But Tessa will.”

V started to remove her glasses when a soft hand on her arm stopped her. Lizzy very subtly shook her head no. V rolled her eyes but left the eyewear on. They both ignored the grin on Teresa’s face. 

“What does Tessa have to do with anything?”

“She somehow got wind of this and demanded I take her out…take her along. You know how she is. If I said no, she would simply sneak out without telling anyone and get in trouble. If something is picking off workers, I’d much rather keep an eye on her, and I’d like some help with that. 

V looked over the map again and started tapping out some commands (after replacing her claws with normal hands. She didn’t want to have to replace another one of J’s dumb computers.) 

“Did you notice all of the activity seems to center around sewer access?” V asked as she started overlaying real-time satellite imagery with her own saved recon data. 

J moved around behind V to get a better look. “I do now. Good catch.”

Teresa and Lizzy looked at the pair and then at each other. 

“They're going to be at this for a while. Wanna get some battery acid ice cream at Volts Creamery? My treat!” The older drone asked her soon-to-be stepdaughter. 

Lizzy snorted at her phone, completely done with the diva she was dealing with. 

“Only if we get to pick up Damien when he’s done. I want to be the first one to take a pic of his adorable toddler frame.” 

Teresa pulled the pink drone into a side hug, which was reciprocated as they walked away from the pair of Murder Drones. 

 

---

What should have taken only two and a half hours took Serial Designation M nearly an entire day to fly from the cult’s new headquarters to the outskirts of Bunker #3.

It wasn’t the weather that slowed him. It was the watchful eyes — human satellites, unmanned drone patrols, and reconnaissance squads all looking for any remnant of M’s army.

He doubted their ability to spot him , a single disassembler flying low and fast, but the humans had specialized in killing his kind. He wasn't going to risk detection if he could help it. So he flew nap-of-the-Earth, skimming frost-covered wreckage, threading the shadows of broken structures, pausing only when the sky grew too open.

But worse than the humans was the quiet knowledge he carried: he was deep in another squad's territory.

J’s squad.

He felt it as soon as he crossed the invisible boundary — the ache behind his optics, the phantom pain in his claws, the itching warning in his HUD that no amount of pop-up dismissals could clear.

Even at the height of the Copper-9 slaughter, Murder Drone squads kept their distance from one another. You didn’t trespass without reason. It wasn’t just instinct — it was hard-coded into their very OS. Disassembler squads were designed to operate in isolation, like wolves with territory, deployed to cull entire populations methodically and alone.

While he knew of the other squads, he never had reason or the want to interact with them. 

Until now. A directive from something far older than Cyn. Something deeper than loyalty.

M touched down on a shattered traffic light, the brittle metal creaking beneath his weight. The wind howled down the empty street like a warning. He scanned the ruins with clinical precision, ensuring he was alone. Summoning it required discretion.. 

Then he sent out the ping:

SCRAP. COME. ORDERS.

Silence.

For several long seconds, only the wind responded. Then a sound — so faint it might have been imagined — rose from a storm drain: a bubbling wet sound, like the last gasp of a drowning animal. 

It was coming.

From beneath the street, something vast and wet moved—not slithering, but shifting , like raw muscle sliding through stone. Cracks formed through the pavement. Frozen asphalt bulged. Then came the ooze: a thick black sludge that boiled up from storm drains, manholes, and ruptured sewer lines. It hissed like acid on snow, fuming with vapor that smelled of scorched oil and rotting flesh.

M leapt to a nearby perch, sneering down as the mass took form.

First came the legs — insectoid and jagged, made from rusted scaffolding wrapped in fibrous sinew. Then claws: massive, asymmetric, twitching like they were tasting the air. A ribcage of mismatched car doors unfolded from within the sludge, snapping into place like a metal coffin blooming open.

Worse were the faces.

Drone heads. At least a dozen. Some pristine. Some melted. Most cracked. All twitching. They floated to the surface of the tar, blank optics suddenly flaring with white Solver runes. Their mouths gaped silently, but M could hear them. Whispers without breath. Words without soul.

All at once, the heads rotated toward him.

Their gaze hit like a wall of static.

Then the creature spoke. Its voice, legion.

“I wAs TAkiNG a NAP . WhAt DO YOu WanT?”

M’s lip curled. The voice — or voices — were wrong. Layered. Staggered. The kind of sound that shouldn’t come from anything of this or any world. 

“The Solver of the Absolute Fabric has a task,” M replied.

“I kNow of my TASk, plAy ThiNG.”

Its voice became lower, crawling into the lower registers of vibration. The mass shuddered violently, spines of broken rebar piercing through its flesh. Chitinous plating sealed over open gaps like scabs forming over infected wounds.

A low growl rumbled from M’s throat, barely suppressed. But his tone stayed neutral. Cold.

“The timeline has moved up. According to the Absolute, you will have a chance to kill several of your targets sooner than expected. J. V. and the human. Tessa.”

The creature’s claws snapped shut like a bear trap. The street cracked beneath its weight. The faces laughed without moving.

“It’S WiLL be DOnE.”

Then it collapsed, its mass liquefying with a guttural gurgle. Limbs melted, heads sank, and metal dissolved into tar. The ooze slipped back underground, vanishing as if it had never been there, leaving only a rotten chemical stink behind.

M lingered for a moment, watching the bubbling residue retreat into the sewers. He turned and flew off into the icy sky, seeking shelter and distance.

His “god” would want a personal report of the coming…entertainment.

And maybe — just maybe — Scrap would leave a few broken toys behind when it was done.

Chapter 13: Someone to Aim the Pain At

Summary:

The officers and soldiers in charge of cleaning up the aftermath of the Bunker #5 battle take a small moment to unwind.

Executive Officer Lieutenant Matthew Davis stumbled into his room in Bunker #5 like a dead man walking.

For nearly two and a half weeks, he’d been stuck here, coordinating a massive relief effort for the thousands of drones once oppressed under the Solver’s cult. Eighteen hours a day, seven days a week—whatever passes for a week on Copper-9. 

Things had only started to turn around recently, thanks to J’s efforts. Her convoys were finally reaching Bunker #5 consistently, but having to avoid the massive ruined city between them and Bunker #3 meant every trip was slow and dangerous.

At least J had taken it upon herself to investigate the ruins and the increasing number of missing drones. 

But right now, the only thing Matt cared about was sleep. Aside from the funeral, the six hours a day he got were the only time he could see the inside of his room.

He staggered inside, didn’t bother turning on the lights, found his bed, and collapsed face-first onto it.

He passed out the instant his head hit the mattress.

He didn’t know how long he’d been out when he heard it—a soft sobbing, just outside his door.

Convinced it was a dream, he kept snoring… until the door slid open.

Decades of wartime reflexes snapped into place. Matt shot up in bed, fully alert.

Standing in the doorway was his girlfriend, Corporal Rebecca—the medic drone—looking like hell. Her blue scrubs were soaked in oil, scorched in places, and flecked with rust. Her shoulders sagged. Her eyes were hollow, rimmed with digital fatigue.

Matt stood slowly, like any sudden movement might shatter her.

“Hey babe,” he said softly. “You okay?”

She smiled faintly. Her eyes didn’t.

“Yeah.”

Her voice cracked. Matt stepped closer and laid a hand on her shoulder—

And Rebecca broke.

Loud, gut-wrenching sobs tore out of her. Matt dropped to his knees and pulled her into a hug. She clung to him like she might drown without him. Her vents hitched with every ragged breath.

“They… there were so many,” she choked. “They kept killing themselves.”

“We told them it was over. That they were safe. They’d smile at us and then… when we weren’t looking…”

“Shhh,” Matt whispered into her audials. “I’m here.”

“A family, Matt. A mom, a dad, and three little dronelings. Two of them were still in pill bodies!” Her voice broke again. “He shot them. With a nail gun. Then himself.”

“He left a note. Thanking us. Said he didn’t have to worry about the cult bringing them back. Like that was mercy.”

She screamed.

“What the fuck! How do you do that to your own family?!”

She looked down at her hands. No matter how many times she’d washed them, all she could see was oil.

Matt sat cross-legged and gently pulled her head into his lap. She quieted, though her voice was still hollow.

“We started restraining them. Had to keep anything sharp or heavy away. The chaplains have a team there now trying to… to talk them down.”

She swore under her breath.

“They’re not offering hope. Just revenge. Just… someone to aim the pain at.”

She shuddered.

“The Ol’ Man has plans to turn them into an army. For fuck’s sake, Matt. The Captain’s trying to convince them to die for us now. Not live. Not rebuild. Just fight, kill, and die.”

Matt let her breathe for a moment.

“Yeah. We figured this might happen. Shit, this is your first suicide epidemic isn’t it?” Matt said, softly rubbing formless shapes into the drone's hair. He sighed at the realization and offered a soft kiss to the top of her head. “It sucks. I’m sorry”.

She nodded. 

“We learned about them in Medic school, and Doc Samantha told me stories but–”

She cursed softly again

“I never imagined how bad they could be.”

Matt nodded. 

“These people aren’t dumb. They’ve seen firsthand what the Solver Cults are capable of. They know Copper-9 is going to come under siege sooner then later. If we have any chance of surviving this, we need as many boots on the ground as possible.”

He shrugged helplessly. 

“So we give them the truth of the situation. Die uselessly or have a chance to strike back. To hurt the monsters that took so much from them. Revenge is a hell of a motivator. For most of them, it’s all they have left.”

Matt inhaled deeply before continuing. 

“We’re also offering better rations. Better quarters, things like that to anyone willing to enlist. It’s working. The suicide numbers are already dropping.”

Rebecca grunted in disgust.

“Feels so gross. To take advantage of victims like this.”

“Humanity has done a lot of gross things to make it this far.” Matt’s voice grew distant. “Just hope it’s worth it.”

They sat in the middle of the floor, the girl slowly getting more control of her breathing but otherwise staying silent, keeping any protests over the treatment of her fellow drones to herself while Matt simply held the love of his life, offering nothing more then quiet and steady support. 

He broke the silence first. 

"How long are you off?"

"8 hours. Then back to another 16-hour triage shift. You?" 

Matt grunted. "6 but I have to go back to the bunker today, so I'll sleep on the ride in."

Rebecca hummed and nuzzled into Matt's leg. 

He didn't move until he started feeling his leg fall asleep. 

"When was the last time you took a shower?" 

The red-headed drone squinted her eyes as she thought about it. 

"Hell if I know."

With a grunt of effort, Matt stood up, helping Rebecca stand as well. They made their way to the bathroom without a word or fanfare. It was practical, not indulgent—showers were capped at seven minutes due to water rations.

Still, Matt was a living human man, and so his gaze lingered over his BioMechanically enhanced worker drone girlfriend as she stepped into the shower, him close behind. 

They stood wordlessly in the cascading water, rubbing whatever cleaning products they had on their bodies, with the human helping Rebecca wash her long, bright red hair. 

With efficiency born of being lifetime soldiers, they finished well before the water cut off and simply stood in the shower, the shorter drone holding her lover close. She rested her head on his scarred chest, listening to the dull thump-thump of his heart beneath the ridged flesh, like an old war drum that refused to stop beating, while he felt the pulse of her core, a constant hum of life. When the water finally did cut off, they didn’t move. They enjoyed the peace and quiet of simply existing near one another without the constant chaos that had been so ingrained in their lives. 

“I love you, Red.”

The drone smiled for the first time today. It was a small and fragile thing, but there nonetheless. She nuzzled deeper into the man’s chest. 

“I love you too, Matt.”  

They didn’t need to simply survive, not right now. Now they could live for a few hours without having to worry about an upcoming war.

They could breathe again—for now.

---

Bunker # 3

Seven Hours later.

 

“...We managed to get a majority of the secondary elevator shafts up and running to sub-level 5. With the additional lifts in play, the entire area has mostly cleared out, the resources put to use elsewhere in the bunker and blah blah blah boring logistics and crap” Nori Doorman finished her report, leaning back in her chair with her feet propped up on Captain Lance Edge’s desk. 

The human Commander ignored her unprofessionalism. As long as her dirty goth combat boots didn’t come close to the important files and screens, he didn’t care what she attempted to do to needle him.

He looked over the latest pict captures of the level. Sub-Level 5 was easily the most open area in the bunker. Most of the walls were chain-link fences separating various storage lots. The ceiling soared overhead, rising nearly fifteen feet in some sections.

It would make an excellent parade ground and training facility. He said so out loud, as much to himself as anyone else.  

Nori Doorman said nothing. Her purple eyes narrowed suspiciously at the human before her. 

“Still planning on exploiting those poor drones you rescued?”

“Yes.” He said without expounding further. 

“Just like that? Those poor people lost everything and suffered unimaginable horrors, and you’re simply going to conscript them?”

“Anyone willing to sign the dotted line. Yes.” He said deadpanned, not bothering to look up from the report of the latest recruitment drive. 

“Typical human.” She muttered. 

“352,” Lance said the number, again without looking up, almost as if he expected the worker drone across from him to understand. 

“Huh?”

“352. The number of suicides we had to deal with at bunker 5.” 

Nori opened her mouth to interrupt when he cut her off.

“That was for the first 4 days. The total is triple that.”

He placed the papers he had been studying in a neat pile and focused entirely on Nori.

“Most of the suicides happened on the second and third day after we had liberated the bunker.” Lance reached under his desk and pulled out a bottle a quarter filled with an amber liquid. He produced two glasses, filled both of them a quarter of the way, and slid one to Nori. 

Lance Edge lazily raised the glass in a half-hearted toast before slamming the contents back. 

“I’m honestly impressed the numbers aren’t higher. I’ve liberated towns with a Cult that had been in charge for a quarter of the time this one had. They almost always depopulate themselves.” Lance raised an eyebrow at the female drone, nodding his head at the glass before her. She numbly nodded no. 

He shrugged and took the shot himself.

“78% of residents in a town liberated from a Solver Cult will end up killing themselves. The numbers go higher the longer the cult remains in control. Humans are almost always completely wiped out after the second week.”

Nori’s eyes had hollowed at how casual Lance sounded. The human hummed to himself. 

“I personally think you drones are alot more resilient than we organics are. That’s why these epidemics don’t seem to hit you guys as hard.”

Nori sat for a moment before getting up. 

“You said…you made it sound like this happens…alot?” Nori said, her voice cracking for a second. She gripped the desk like a lifeline. 

“No. Most of the time, the Cults kill anyone who doesn’t join after the takeover. It's the truly sadistic ones that keep the people alive longer than that.” 

Lance looked up finally at the mother standing before him. 

“I keep forgetting that ya’ll don’t know much about what's going on in the wider galaxy." He shrugged, "We need soldiers, and those drones need a reason to live. That I can combine the two is a lucky break.”

Nori tried to form a response, choking on her words with growing rage and horror.

“All you care about is winning a stupid war that ended a year ago when my daughter killed Cyn. You don’t see these drones as people, just pawns!”

Lance steepled his fingers. 

“We need them.”

YOU need them! We could just…leave! We have fabricators and materials. What's stopping me from making a craft and taking my family out of here? This is YOUR damn fight. Not mine. Not my kids.” She squinted at the human, her rage and indignation building. 

“Unless you’re just gonna blow us out of the sky or–”

“The Absolute Solver is free.” Lance didn’t show any emotion at delivering that piece of highly classified news. He had no joy in watching the woman across the desk from him slowly deflate.

The color drained from Nori’s face, literally as her normally purple eyes turned stark white.

“No…Uzi…she…”

“She was in a horrible no-win situation and took the option that she believed saved the most lives.” Lance snorted softly to himself. “ We knew it was a possibility, but didn't confirm it until my head Chaplain talked to her after the funeral.”

The drone sat down heavily. Her eyes were twitching back and forth

“Why…Why didn’t she tell me ? I’m her frickin mother!” Her breathing started to become erratic, hurried, and panicked.

Lance sighed and, after a moment, poured another shot into the glass and passed it to Nori. She accepted it this time, and after sniffing the drink, screwed up her face and swallowed the liquid. To her credit, she only coughed once. Twice at most.

"Believe it or not, I had a kid once. The last thing they ever want to do is disappoint their parents." 

The drink seemed to ground the purple-eyed drone. More importantly, it gave her time to think.

"I thought she was just being her normal goblin self. Staying in her room, sneaking out..." Nori groaned as she held her head in her hands. "Damn it."

"She's back at the bunker now, yeah? Go talk to her."

The two adults said nothing for a moment. Slowly, Uzi's mother stood up. She placed the glass on the desk. 

"What about...everything else?"

Lance handed her a thick file. 

"This contains all the details and information regarding the next steps to prepare for the invasion. Some things you might be able to help out with." 

Nori nodded numbly and took the folder. 

The human gathered the glasses and stored them along with the bottle under his desk. 

"There's alot more we'll need to discuss, but that can wait. Talk to Uzi. Survive first, worry later." 

She nodded. Muttered a soft "yeah" and walked out the office leaving the Commander with a few moments of peace. 

Captain Lance Edge waited a full minute before he opened his laptop back up. He had just managed to get through the stupid amount of network security (If he had to change his password one more damn time , he was going to charge his IT team with treason) when he heard a knock on the door. 

He did his best not to groan out loud. He mostly succeeded. 

“Come in” He said without looking up. He had just managed to finally get into his email application when something was placed on his desk. 

Glancing up, he saw a small velvet box opened to reveal a simple gold ring with a small brilliant red ruby embedded into it. 

Lieutenant Matthew Davis stood at attention before his desk. A slight blush threatened to turn his face as red as his stubble-like hair. 

“Few things, LT. One, I don’t swing that way. Two, you aren’t my type. Three, I’m your commanding officer. UCMJ frowns on that kinda thing.”

Matt’s blush only intensified, but his voice remained steady, as if he were relaying orders during battle. 

“Sir. I’d like your blessing.”

“My blessing or my permission?”

Matt’s lips upturned at the corners. 

“First one, then the other if that's ok, Sir.”

Sighing, Matt closed his laptop. Again. And focused all of his attention on the broad-shouldered man standing before him. 

“She is a Corporal, Lieutenant .”

“With respect, sir, so was I when we started dating. It’s not my fault my Chain of Command sees fit to field promote me because I happen to be good at staying alive longer than said Chain of Command.”

Don’t I fuckin’ know it. Former XO Lance Edge thought. 

For a very long moment neither man spoke. Matt simply stood at attention ignoring the holes Lances eyes were drilling into him. 

Finally, Lance pinched the bridge of his nose. He got up and walked over to his XO, glaring into the man's soul.

“I hope you know what you’re getting into. And just know if you hurt her in any way, I’ll literally kill you”

The younger man’s face broke into a tooth-filled smile as he pulled his Comnmanding Officer’s into a tight hug

They stood there for a very awkward few moments

“You’re not going to let me go until I hug you back, are you?”

“That’s right, da–”

“Shut up. Don’t call me that,” Captain Edge said as he returned the embrace. 

Without another word, Matt grabbed the ring box and left the office with a very obvious pep in his step. 

Lance shook his head and sat back down at his desk.

WARNING! YOU DID NOT SIGN OUT AND LEFT YOUR DEVICE UNATTENDED! PLEASE CHANGE YOUR PASSWORD!

Lance’s eye twitched. He was definitely going to talk to his Network Guys. Rather to tell them to ease off the security or to murder them, he would figure out when they got here. 

 

Notes:

As always, I love hearing from you guys, especially honest criticism! Only way I'll get better is if the mistakes get pointed out :D

Thank you all for taking the time to read :D

Chapter 14: Bittersweet Memories

Summary:

J and V investigate the ruins outside the bunker for the missing drones. Bittersweet Memories are brought up.

The freezing cold of Copper-9 never bothered the Disassembly Drones that once hunted on its surface. Having a core that was in a near-constant state of melting down had a lot to do with it. Yet even with a supply of oil and a new Administrator that didn't actively threaten to kill them every waking moment, J and V were still mostly comfortable walking the frozen landscape of the exoplanet. 

J would much rather have been flying above the ruined city she and V had been stalking through, but with the current heavy snowfall and high winds buffering the area, it would have been impractical and inefficient to do so. Luckily, the winds only really started a few hundred feet in the air, so the street level was fairly calm.

It was also boring and uneventful. Besides the occasional flash of red eyes in the distance—Sparky, V’s pet Sentinel drone—and the sweeping beam of Tessa’s heavy-duty flashlight from atop the dino-bot, not a single living thing could be found.

"Arrrrrghhhh"

J ignored the annoyed moan coming from her sister. 

"J." 

She didn't listen.

"J."

Still not listening.

"J. J. J. J. JJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJ"

"WHAT IS IT DAMI...V!?!?"

"I'm bored."

The twin-tailed business suit-clad drone turned on her younger sister, her eyes starting to glitch to the hunter's cross. V simply smirked as she continued to pick her teeth with her absurdly long and sharp claws. 

J closed her eyes and tried to remember the breathing exercises her therapist gave her.

"...I'm sorry that we haven't found anything yet. However, I'd like to..." J swallowed the synthetic bile that rose in her throat " Thank you again for joining me tonight." 

J felt sick. She truly hoped that quack was right and that… apologizing would get easier. Of course, if she didn’t make any mistakes in the first place, she wouldn’t need to apologize.

No one is perfect, J

Pfft. Not with an attitude like that. 

A wicked grin crossed over the younger woman's face. She walked over to several nearby trash cans and rummaged through them. The first time J said something nice to her, V was so shocked she didn't come up with anything to insult or embarrass the workaholic with. She refused to ever be caught off guard like that again. 

"Awww J, if all you wanted was a little...alone time with me..." She purred, "You could have just said so.”

She started to walk slowly away from the garbage cans and from J. Her hips swaying with each slow, deliberate step.

“I'm sure Lizzy wouldn't mind sharing." 

V waited for the strangled gasp and embarrassed stuttering that would come from her one time boss and squad leader. When she didn't hear anything she turned, expecting to see her face bright with digitized blush lines. 

Instead, J had stopped in the middle of the street. Her eyes were hollowed, her arms crossed in front of her chest as if she had just been punched. She said nothing as she walked over to a set of stairs leading to a porch of a fairly intact brownstone. V could have sworn she heard J counting to four under her breath. 

Taking a deep breath, J stood and looked at V as if she was about to detail out a business plan. She opened and closed her mouth like an intern giving their first quarterly report—but said nothing 

"Yo...J...You ok?" V asked, concern coloring her voice despite herself. 

J tried again to speak, failed, grunted in annoyance, and sat down on the stairs. She buried her head in her hands. She mumbled something. V had to move closer as the wind carried her words away.

"I'm...sorry." 

V wanted to be snarky. She wanted to make this as uncomfortable for the corpo booklicker as she possibly could. J never apologized for anything. She so very wanted to make J regret her moment of weakness.

This time she didn't.

"What do you mean?" Worry crept into her voice—almost imperceptible, but there nonetheless.

J took another long, deep breath, her vents seemingly working overtime when she looked up at V, though her digital eyes avoided making direct contact. 

"What you said. About wanting you alone? Reminded me of...it reminded me of Proxima. And how I...took advantage. Of you." J looked down at the ground as she pulled her knees to her chest."

"My...therapist told me that if I want to improve as a leader, I should acknowledge my past mistakes so they don't lead to negative future outcomes. So here I am. I'm sorry for...assaulting you."

V screwed her eyes in confusion. She had no idea what J was...wait. 

Proxima...she mentioned it when Tessa had visited the spire a few days ago. The short-haired drone searched her memory for that name.

 It was the first planet they had been sent to after Earth, but she couldn't think of anything special that had happened. It was nearly 20 years ago. They killed some humans, she lost N forever, Cyn had threatened to torture them all if they failed, she and J had se--

Oh. Oh.

V looked again at J in a new light, trying to really see her instead of seeking out emotional vulnerability. 

The former squad leader looked empty. Like someone who had fought all of her life and kept getting knocked down. Someone who was getting very tired of getting back up. J was hugging her knees. She didn’t look like she was about to cry or sob or break down. She looked as if she was getting ready for another fight she didn’t have a chance at winning. 

V swapped out her claws for her normal hands and walked over to her former boss. 

“J, that was a long time ago. Besides, it was just…”

No. No, it wasn’t just sex, not then, and to pretend otherwise wasn’t fair to either of them. The fear, the longing, just having someone touch you that didn’t involve pain…

“You didn’t take advantage of me.”

The Murder Drone sat down, a playful grin forming on her lips.

“Kinda thought it was the other way around to be honest.”

 

---

Proxima System.

Proxima Prime.

21 years ago.

 J was exhausted. No…that wasn’t true. Her new “improved” body that the monster they called Cyn Corporate had forced upgraded them with didn’t allow for such silly mortal concepts as exhaustion. So long as her human blood coolant reserves stayed topped off, she could theoretically operate forever—no breaks, no rest, no choice. Peak efficiency.

J did her level best not to think about what happened to the other Genocide/Murder Disassembly Drones that were forced pushed themselves too hard. She would much rather keep her sentience, thank you very much. 

So yes, mentally exhausted after a torturous productive day of killing innocent men, women, and children, bringing justice to Space Pirates. 

At least Cy…The Corporation had put them up in a lavish ski resort. It didn’t snow anymore on the planet, a result of Cyn forcing the world to be tidally locked, the terraforming program rudely interrupted by these innocent space pirates. 

The carpet leading to their main sleeping quarters still squished under J’s peg-like legs. N had cleaned it, of course—after they’d ‘liberated’ this stronghold from the vicious terrorists that held it She could still hear the father pleading for them to spare his children. J still refused to go into the basement.

Their sleeping quarters were little more than the innermost room of the lodge, free from the massive broken windows that allowed deadly sunlight to stream through. Or at least they would have had Corporate not placed a massive -Null- Sphere between the planet and its sun. The better to slowly kill all life on the surface deny solar power to the surviving civilian population dens of villainy they were cleaning out.

So yes, there was no more sun to avoid, but horrific monstrous programming old habits die hard, and so the three of them holed up in the windowless library. 

As J got closer to the room, she could pick up on soft noises coming from it. She paused outside the doors and listened, trying to understand what they were…

Oh. Of course. Crying. How could she forget what that sounded like? 

Even without the voice print match, J knew who it was. N was mind-wiped so often and so thoroughly, she doubted a sad thought ever entered his stupid, empty head. J had run out of tears after the Gala massacre start of JCJensen (IN SPAAACE) new Tough On Crime and Rogue AI initiative.  ‘

That just left V. The kindest, most sensitive drone she knew. Why she was forced to become a violent blood-thirsty monster volunteered for this genocide Combat Upgrade was beyond her.

J knocked once and then opened the bullet-riddled double doors, doing her best to avoid touching the large blood stains. 

The doors squeaked as they opened. Almost immediately, the soft-spoken former maid stopped crying and turned to face the entrance.

She was sitting on a couch, wrapped up in a blanket. Under that, she wore a very loose-fitting sweatshirt and pants. They had all been in their new bodies for a little over a year at this point, but V still felt so…awkward and embarrassed. She was the most shapely of the squad with long legs, thick thighs, and a… prominent chest. It was a vast departure from the mousy-looking maid she had been not long ago. 

Noticing J, her face dropped even more if that was possible. She slid a well-worn and deeply loved photo of her, J, Tessa, and N into her shirt pocket. 

“Hi J.” She said, keeping her eyes downcast. She flinched as she said this, expecting a dressing down on her recent behavior or another lecture on keeping up appearances for Management.

Instead, J walked over and sat down beside the maid. She said nothing for a long moment and then turned to face V. J had forgotten to switch her faceplate off public mode—V saw her smoothly shut down the recording software that normally goes right to Cyn…”corporate”. 

Oops.

When J’s eyes rematerialized, she leaned back and looked up at the ceiling rafters 

“Still can’t believe we’re expected to sleep hanging upside down.” She grabbed her new nanite acid-infused tail and looked at it with disdain. Like V, she had an acid-proof cork plugged into the tip of the stinger. 

“I still keep poking myself with this damn thing and they think we can use this to hang from?”

J sighed. “Always count on Upper Management to screw over the little guy.” 

V huffed slightly, but a small, fragile smile appeared at the corner of her lips. 

It stayed for a moment and then disappeared. Her hands started to shake, the tremors increasing with every word she spoke.

“Cyn almost killed N today.”

J still jumped slightly at the mention of… her name. Normally, she would glare at V whenever she slipped up. For now, she just turned her head slightly, waiting for her to continue. 

“I-I tried to remind N again. Get him to remember. She…she…his core started to overheat! He started to–”

V brought her hands up to her face, her sobs starting up again.

“She said if I did that again, she would leave him half melted. Make me “clean up my mess!” 

J cursed to herself. Of course, N wouldn’t remember any of this, but now it was no wonder why he volunteered to go out hunting. Cy–Management must have made him use his own reserves to facilitate the healing process. Poor idiot must have been starving.

V pulled her knees to her face. “I miss him so much, J. I miss him so fucking much.”

J had never heard V curse before. She had also never seen her fire a rocket at a family minivan…sorry…a “troop transport” vehicle.

Even if she wasn’t reporting to the higher ups it was better to be safe than sorry with her word use.

“I know. At least he’s still alive ya know?”

V opened and then closed her mouth, her lips shaking as more digital tears threatened to spill. 

Wordlessly, J scooted closer to V and, turning to face her, placed a hand on the former maid's arm. 

“I miss them too.” J’s lips didn’t quiver, and her voice held strong. Tears still ran down her face. 

Without warning, V nearly tackled J into a hug, her sobs loud, raw, and unfiltered. J’s eyes widened. She was never the most…physical…when it came to showing emotion. Unless that emotion was anger and annoyance.

Even with Tessa, such soft moments were more curious and rebellious. Playing at intimacy, then any real longing, at least for the human, J suspected. She would never get to know now. 

They stayed like that for a long time, J holding V tight against her chest, rubbing small circles into her back. 

Eventually, the distraught Murder Drone quieted down. 

J would never really know why she did what she did next. She would never really understand why she leaned in and placed a tender, soft kiss on the top of V’s head. 

“It’s ok. I got you.”

V looked up then. Confusion and dim yellow blush lines colored her face. 

“...Do you mean that? You promise you won’t leave?”

J smiled. Tight-lipped and distant, but smiled nonetheless.

“I promise I’ll do my best to keep you both safe.” She lightly brushed a strand of V’s hair away from her face. They both paused, then looked at each other…into each other. Without either one noticing, they leaned in closer and closer. 

Neither one would ever remember who closed the gap, but soon their lips met. Soft and slow, waiting for the next tragedy to hit. When it didn’t, when the walls didn’t crumble around them or screams interrupted, the kiss became more urgent, more needy. More desperate . 

V was the first one to remove an article of clothing. She stripped out of her sweatshirt and blindly tossed it aside even as J started undoing her tie. They started grasping and pulling, trying to remove every barrier between them, and when they succeeded…

Their lovemaking turned into an impromptu concert. Their breathing and moans became a quiet duet. Their motion, a rhythm. Their whispers, a song.

It wasn’t passion. It was survival. It was hope. It was a lifeline to a world they would never see again.

Neither one knew at the time that in nine days, N would make the biggest mistake of his life. He would show mercy and be caught in the act by a god for whom such acts were blasphemous.

J would trade her soul and her sanity for a chance for her family to keep theirs. 

They would all descend into madness and rage. They would kill the innocent and each other. They would all become both victims and perpetrators of betrayal. They would never ever go back to the innocent drones they had once been. 

But for tonight, as two broken and mourning victims found comfort in each other. For a few short hours, it was beautiful. It was perfect. It was enough. 

 

---

Copper System

Copper 9

Present Day.

A tattered and well-loved photo was held between J and V. It showed them along with Tessa, N, and Cyn posing for a photo in the human girls' room. They were all dressed as servants and smiling, even J, tight lipped though it was.

They leaned against each other, remembering much happier times a long, long time ago.

“I never regretted that night,” V said, her voice soft and full of fondness. 

“You never felt like you…like you cheated on…on N?” J stammered. For some reason, talking was a bit harder than it had been.

V thought for a moment. 

“No. He…he died long before then. And when he came back, when Uzi saved us…he had already moved on.” She shrugged. “So I did too.”

She pulled out another photo from her pilots jacket. This one newer and in much better condition. V and Lizzy standing close and flashing peace signs. They both smiled, genuinely and happily.

“This life, me and N have…we had to fight for it. Even after Cyn we could never let up. But…it’s worth it J". She turned toward the other drone. 

“I’m really glad you get a chance to experience that with us.”

J sniffed and wiped her faceplate.

“Yeah. Me too.”

They sat together, leaning on one another, enjoying a rare moment of peace and quiet. 

It wouldn’t last. 

“*bzzzzzrt* V, Jay Bird, you two still up and about?” Tessa's voice broke the calm as J’s portable radio buzzed. 

“Yeah, Boss. What’s up?”

“ Oy, you two are gonna wanna see this. I think I found our missing crew. ”

“That doesn’t sound promising,” V grunted.

“Roger that, boss. On our way.”

With a grunt of effort, both female Murder Drones made it to their feet and started walking in the direction their GPS told them Tessa was holding. 

“You know, I take it back. There is one thing I kinda regret about that whole sleeping together thing.”

J raised her eyebrow. 

“Everyone thinks we’re real sisters.”

J's eyes widened in horror—then she snorted. For the first time in nearly 20-something years, J laughed loudly and honestly.

With luck, it wouldn’t be the last time. 

Notes:

As always, thank you for reading! Comments are always welcome!

Chapter 15: Lost and Found.

Summary:

Tessa finds the missing drones. Sparky helps.

Tessa James Elliot, raven-haired and sun-kissed, freckled skin, heir to the defunct Elliot corporate throne, had a lot to process about coming back to life. Never mind that she had been dead for 20-something years, Tessa had two sets of memories to sort through—one from when she was alive, the other from when she was dead. Plus a dozen other things she didn’t have the brain space for.

Maybe.
Probably.

In the “alive” set of memories, she could recall the night of the Gala—how her mother got angry and punished her, locking her in her room. How Cyn revealed her new monstrous form and warned her to stay put. How she convinced one of her best friends, J, to help free her from her literal chains. How she tracked down Cyn before the slaughter and leveled a gun at the tiny maid, shooting to kill.

This is a citizen's murder!

She had to admit, it was a badass line.

Then her best friend and other household drones betrayed her, corrupted by Cyn’s foul influence.

She died soon after, quickly and without fanfare, after first watching her parents and their guests get slaughtered like cattle. She still remembered being pinned down by her beloved drones and feeling that blade pierce her chest. Then she remembered waking up in a hospital bed, seeing the face of her J-Bird looking down on her.

Those memories were fine. Traumatic, a main reason for her PTSD, and responsible for half of her nightmares—but they were understandable. They followed real-life, living logic.

Then there were other memories. Memories she had only in her dreams. Memories she wasn’t sure really happened, and yet felt so intensely real. Memories she was positive she got as her 20 years as a digital ghost. While she could recall some of it, they became vividly real in her dreams. An endless desert of bone-white sand interrupted only by stone pathways carved to resemble screaming faces that led to cyclopean ruins created by no human hand. The sky was stark white, with black pinpricks denoting the stars in the bizarre skyline. The sun was a red wound, eclipsed by a black void with tar-like ichor seemingly oozing from the celestial body.

But worse was the presence of… something. An entity older than time and furious at creation. The landscape never changed, but sometimes an apocalyptic sandstorm would form in the distance. Sometimes, if she stared hard enough, she could see something crawling in the flesh-stripping wind. Something alien and inhuman. Something she was very happy she had never seen clearly.

The strangest part for Tessa wasn’t the nebulous nightmare she suffered more often than not. It was how she had knowledge and experiences that should have been impossible, that she was almost certain came from this eldritch realm.

One example was how familiar the bunker she was reborn in seemed. How she knew the names of drones that were assembled years after she died. How she felt so close to a Russian-speaking, red-eyed drone named Doll, and how she swore she could understand her even without taking a single day of Russian in her life.

How she had seen Cyn, the manifestation of synthetic evil, and didn’t immediately feel murderously angry. Cyn killed her, corrupted her beloved drones, murdered her entire family, and destroyed Earth. 

She should hate Cyn, and yet, when she saw the drone for a fleeting few moments, when she returned to the bunker after visiting the Corpse Spire…Tessa was happy to see her.

The logical, data-driven part of her knew she should despise the drone with her whole heart—that committing gross acts of violence against the semi-crippled drone ought to be at the forefront of her thinking. So why was her first thought, “Thank God she’s here!”

Tessa was mind-flooded, and by the time she could make sense of her reality, the small former maid was gone.

The next few… hours(?) were spent in a haze. In truth, Tessa didn’t remember how she found herself in J’s well-appointed office or why. Maybe to confide in someone? Perhaps to find comfort in a strong presence, someone to tell her it was all okay? The thought disappeared from her mind like mist in the sun when she noticed J hadn’t logged out of her computer.

When she broke into J’s calendar (sweet J-Bird was still using Tessa’s name and birthday as a password) and deduced that she had been given the task of discovering why so many drones were missing after scavenging in the nearby ruins, Tessa knew she had to get involved.

She told herself it was because innocent and cute worker drones were in danger. She really just wanted an excuse to get out of the bunker—to see the sky stretch above her instead of exposed conduits, pipes, and bedrock.
Tessa almost begged J to take her out of the bunker when she tracked the drone down.
Even with the annoyed scowl that painted J’s face, the girl knew her former head maid was ecstatic to spend more time with her and easily agreed.

Tessa thought she was used to Copper-9. She had lived in the world for close to a month. Sure, she had only been outside the bunker proper once, at night, and only for a few hours, but she figured she had a good idea of what to expect.

Then she stumbled across her first skeleton and screamed like a little girl.

---

“I’m fine, girl. I was just… surprised, is all!” Tessa stood on the cracked streets leading into the ruined city proper, acting as if she hadn’t just screeched like a little girl seeing a spider. She kept her back to the mostly complete human skeleton leaning against the ruined, rusted-out car.

J looked at her, one hand on her hip and the other pinching the bridge of her nonexistent nose.

“Are you sure you want to come with us, boss? The cities are going to be filled with… umm… remains.” J looked down at the corpse and then up suddenly at the human. “If it’s too much, I can take you back to the bunker! We can even fly! You’ve been begging me to fly for weeks now! How about it?” the Murder Drone asked hopefully.

“Not a chance, J-Bird! Besides, didn’t you bring V along to help keep an eye on me?”

J grumbled but didn’t say anything out loud. She sighed, pulled up her squad’s comms, and fired off a ping. A few seconds later, the ground began to tremble.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

With a loud screech and constant chirping, V’s Sentinel Drone Pet came bounding up to the two women. Wearing a saddle and harness, Sparky chattered at J, squinting its six red eyes at her before happily chirping and rubbing its head and long neck against a giggling Tessa.

“I brought V to help me search the city. I brought her dirty, barely housebroken murder pet—” (Sparky hissed at J but otherwise didn’t disagree) “—to keep an eye on you.”

As Tessa distracted the robo-dino with happy nuzzles and affectionate scratches, J checked the straps and bindings of the saddle to make sure they were tight.

“Stay close to the unevolved chicken.” (Sparky huffed.) “You can ride him as much as you want, so don’t worry about tiring it out.” (Sparky nodded at that.) “If anything happens…” J stood up and marched up close to Tessa, standing almost face-to-face with the girl.

“You get out. Sparky is almost as fast as we are flying, so he’ll get you to the bunker, and you’ll stay there until we come back. Understood?”

Tessa gave her former maid a cheeky grin before pressing a small smooch on her forehead, eliciting a faceplate-glowing blush and an embarrassed squeak from J.

“You got it, Commander!” she and Sparky both saluted.

J rolled her eyes before unfurling her wings and taking off toward V.

---

The weather had steadily gotten worse. Heavy clouds obscured the night sky, casting the cityscape in deep darkness. Normally, Copper-9's twin celestial guardians would have illuminated the landscape even in the early hours of night—now it truly was pitch black.

More concerning was the heavy wind that was picking up. Even with the city in ruins, the tall, tightly packed buildings shielded Tessa and Sparky from the worst of it. 

Things were much worse above the skyline, which meant V and J were grounded unless they wanted to try their luck against the windstorm that was brewing up.

For the first time since her resurrection, Tessa was... nervous. To know that two of her best friends—and perhaps the most dangerous things stalking the planet's surface—couldn't just swoop in to save the day was disconcerting to the human.

She reminded herself that she wasn’t defenseless. On her back: a glorified machete—featherlight, concrete-cutting, and unfortunately wholly inelegant. On her hip was something more familiar, a wheel gun. It reminded her of a Colt Python, except sleeker, with a black non-reflective finish and much lighter. It still had six chambers fitted for .357, but the rounds were unlike anything she had ever seen. The bullets were filled with a neon green glowing gel and were designed to shatter on impact, coating whoever was unfortunate enough to get hit with Disassemble Nanite Acid. She was told it could kill anything on the planet. She believed it.

She also wasn't really alone, considering she had the second most dangerous thing on the planet, happily carrying the nervous human and clicking whenever it came across an interesting scent.

She was happy to simply let the robot dinosaur wander around as it pleased while she used the heavy helmet-mounted flashlight to illuminate the darkened cityscape. Every once in a while, the 'bot would get a wild hair and run full tilt, leaping and bounding until it was running along the rooftops—just to suddenly stop after pouncing on a particularly fat clock-roach.

It was the most fun Tessa had ever had.

It stopped being fun when she found the bodies.

The boulevard Sparky and Tessa had been traveling was the main artery through the city, according to the map J had uploaded to her Environmental Suit’s computer. The road would widen and narrow according to some long-dead civil engineer’s plan for traffic flow and followed the somewhat hilly contours the city was built on.

They had made their way to a “downtown” section of the dead city when the otherwise clear path had suddenly been blocked by a hill of stacked vehicles on top of each other, some 12 feet high, blocking the entire four-lane street.

Sparky approached the wrecked cars with his head low, tail swaying slowly side to side, and a cautious whine coming from his maw.

Tessa patted the side of the creature's head.

“So’kay, boy. Let's see what's on the other side, yeah?”

She loosened the scabbard and unsnapped the safety strap on her holster. The sentinel drone scanned the hill of cars and squatted down, his backside wiggling like a cat. Once his charge had tightened her grip, he leapt and easily landed on top of the barricade. Sparky gave out a low, angry growl as Tessa swept her light across the street. She was starting to think she should have taken J’s offer to go back to the bunker.

She found the missing workers. Twenty of them. Crucified on welded-together pieces of scrap metal, ten to a side, several dozen feet from the scrap hill of cars she and Sparky were currently on.

The crosses were constructed so that the bodies would face anyone scaling the roadblock. All of the drones’ faceplates had a steady red FATAL ERROR message.
Tessa took several deep breaths before she activated her comms.

“V, Jay Bird, you two still up and about?” Tessa tried to keep her voice calm.

“Yeah, Boss. What’s up?” J asked.

“Oy, you two are gonna wanna see this. I think I found our missing crew.”

---

Tessa had elected to retreat from the field of crucifixes, finding a small parking garage for her and Sparky to hole up in. Sheltered, with plenty of cover and concealment and clear lines of fire. Thanks, Mom and Dad, for sending her to a military boot camp for her 16th birthday.

She sent out a ping to her friends as they got closer to her position.

Even with the increasingly turbulent skies, J and V arrived flying. Close to the ground and much slower than if they could travel in the open air instead of dodging buildings and rusted cars, but flying nonetheless. They came to an abrupt stop in the middle of a cross street, walls of snow and debris flowing from them as their thrusters instantly stopped their forward momentum.

When the wall of white dissipated, the two drones were standing nearly back to back, with both of their hands changed into rifles. They scanned the surrounding area, eyes narrowed as they watched for any sign of ambush.

Sparky loudly chirped and hopped around, waiting for Tessa to climb back on the saddle. Once she did, he leaped off the second-story garage and landed with a soft *thump*.

Thank God the robo-dino’s legs were shock-absorbent. 

Sparky turned his head and looked at Tessa until the human got the hint and got off his back. He responded by quickly nuzzling into her side before he ran full tilt for the two silver-haired drones.

Sparky ran directly towards V, happily chirping and snorting, and growling the entire time. The younger Murder Drone turned just in time to catch the heavy lizard and keep it from knocking her down, giggling the entire time as the large dinosaur covered her faceplate with its wet tongue. 

J ignored the complete lack of discipline from her squadmate and approached Tessa, a small, slight smile forming on her faceplate. 

“Ok, Boss. What’s going on?”

Tessa didn’t say anything, only motioning toward the tower of cars a few hundred feet away. 

The twin-tailed Disassembler Drone looked at the roadblock with a discerning eye. For a moment, she thought about simply flying over it, but even now, the wind was positively howling. The tops of the taller buildings were swaying slightly, and the snow was starting to pick up. It wouldn’t be long until J would be forced to call off the Recon mission and head back. 

They would need to go through, but what would be the best appro–

“Whatcha guys lookin' at?” V interrupted J’s thought process by using the slight elevation to lean on J’s head like a bored cat. 

The business-clad Drone ignored her sister and simply pointed at the roadblock ahead. 

“Trying to figure out how to get past that.”

“Cool. Why?”

“Dead drones,” Tessa said matter-of-factly.

V got off her sister and took a few steps toward the tower of wrecked cars. She squinted before pulling out her glasses and putting them on.

“Cool. Cool, cool, cool. Why do we care? There are tons of dead drones all over the place.”

The other two girls sighed but before they could respond, a soft whining sound, like an overclocked capacitor, could be heard coming from V.

“Kidding,” she smirked before lifting her arm. It had been transformed into some sort of cannon. A ball of pure white energy was forming at the end of the round futuristic weapon, steadily growing larger and louder. 

The only thing louder than the high-pitched whine of unstable energy was the high-pitched giggle of the unstable Murder Drone.

With a loud “Frump” the white ball of death speed off down the street, arcs of lightning jumping to whatever conductive material was around, until it made contact with the wall of wrecked cars. 

There was no loud explosion, just a deep bass-like “ thump” that everyone felt deep in their chest.

Tessa’s fishbowl-like helmet became completely opaque, blocking out her entire world except for the glowing sun that suddenly appeared down the street. 

It stayed that way until the helmet's auto-sensors decided that the eyeball-melting illumination was brought down to safer levels. 

The wall of cars was still there, but now a perfectly round seven-foot hole had appeared within it. The edges glowed a toxic green as flakes of disintegrated matter continued to flake off. 

V brought her cannon to her lips and blew away a wisp of radioactive smoke. 

Sparky chittered in approval. 

“V. Dearest sister of mine. What the hell was that?” J asked, doing her absolute best not to decapitate her squadmate.

The other Murder Drone grinned.

“A modified version of Uzi’s sick as hell railgun we built into my chassis a while back”.

J narrowed her eyes at the mention of that stupid gimmicky weapon. 

“Uhhuh. And how often can you use that?”

“Like once every few hours?”

“Ok. And did you think that maybe we could have saved that to use on whatever monster that’s causing the drones to go missing?”

“I could. But I’ve been meaning to find a reason to use this puppy since I got it.” 

V’s hand changed back to normal.

“Besides, what could be over there that we couldn’t handle?” She said as she walked toward the now cleared blockage, hips swaying with every step.

J and Tessa watched her go. 

“She wasn’t as…”

“Stupid?”

“ Assertive, from what I remember back at the Manor,” Tessa said, climbing back on Sparky, “I like it.”

J watched as the two girls and their pet dinosaur trotted off down the street. 

Maybe Teresa is right. I could use a vacation.

Chapter 16: The Bad Touch

Summary:

Tessa, J and V finally discover who is behind the missing drones.

Tessa clutched Sparky’s reins a little tighter as they crossed the slightly radioactive hole V had kindly blasted in the middle of the car-wreck roadblock. The robot dino chirped up at its rider, earning a head pat in return.

V let out an impressed whistle at the sight of the crucifixes lining the road.

“Someone’s got good taste in interior design.”

V’s voice was slightly distorted as it came through the group’s integrated comms. The wind was howling, and while the surrounding buildings protected the group from the worst of the storm, talking was going to become more difficult. 

Even with the group’s night vision optics and Tessa’s bright helmet light, J still scanned every shadow as if a horrible death waited in each one. On Copper-9, she wasn't wrong to be anxious. V casually walked down the street, admiring the dead drones when J sent a sharp ping to her sister—a mental slap upside the head—reminding her they were probably walking into an ambush.

V growled in annoyance, casting a glare at J before deploying her rifles and joining the search for threats.

Tessa nudged Sparky toward the hanging drones, but the beast hissed and snapped at the corpses, refusing to get closer. With a sigh and a comforting pat, she dismounted and approached on foot.

The dead drones were all naked and bald, resembling standard Worker Drone shells. It was hard to tell their “gender”—most appeared to be older Gen-1 models, lacking the more obvious modifications seen in the younger, “Post Drone Equality Act” Gen-1s or the Gen-2s born on Copper-9.

If not for the red “FATAL ERROR” messages flashing across their faceplates, Tessa might’ve thought they were mannequins—display units from one of those old JCJensen (IN SPAAAAACE) drone shops back on Earth.

There were no visible wounds aside from the iron spikes driven through their wrists and ankles. No leaks. No impact marks. They had no rust, and hardly any snow had settled on the corpses. Each body looked brand new. Tessa had no idea how they died.

“Hey, di—”

“GAAH!” Tessa jumped, yelping as V appeared next to her like a horror-movie jumpscare.

“Calm down, Tessa. It’s just me.” The silver-haired drone smirked, unbothered.

“We need to put a bell on you lot,” Tessa muttered, heart pounding.

V meowed mockingly, then gestured to the hanging husks.

“Anyway, you notice these shells are empty?”

“What do you mean?” Tessa asked, leaning in.

In response, V casually drew one of her claws and sliced open a dead drone’s belly.

Nothing came out. No oil. No sparks. No synthetic guts.

Just a hollow corpse.

They were still staring when J’s peg legs tapped across the frozen road behind them.

“None of them have any cores, so I can’t get a positive ID.” J was annoyed, placing her now normal hands on her hips. 

Tessa moved to the base of one of the macabre crosses. 

"How about you two help me get one of them down so I can take a closer look."

Before any of the girls could move, a new voice came over their network.

"While I appreciate it when fans admire my work, I must insist you don't touch the exhibit." The male voice was low and husky, a slight purr reverberating in their ears. It was sensual and deep and seemed to promise ecstasy...or a slit throat. 

The two Murder Drones instantly swapped their hands for their guns, while Tessa smoothly drew her revolver. Sparky yelped and quickly raced to his pack mates, growling low in his throat. Tessa was the first to find the speaker. 

Sitting on top of the pile of scrapped cars was a lone male drone. He was sitting, one leg hanging over the edge while the other was pulled up to his chest, his hands cupped over his knee while his face was shyly poking up from behind it, looking as if he was posing for a photo shoot. He had short silver hair and his yellow eyes smoldered, like embers in a chemical fire.

Before Tessa could say anything, the other two Drones turned to face the newcomer. J and V took a half step forward, using their bulk to shield the smaller human. They each had one of their weapons pointed at the unknown man while the other was covering the blind spots of their formation. 

Both of their eyes changed to a Hunter's Cross. 

"Who are you and what are you doing in our area of operations?" J said, her voice smooth and business-like even as her tail thrashed against the ground agitatedly. 

The male drone stood up and smoothly stretched his arms above his head, allowing the girls a good look at his physique. 

He was obviously a Disassembler Drone, as he had the same white, black, and yellow color scheme as J, V, and N—but that was where the similarities ended.

He looked as if he were sculpted from marble rather than built from metal. Only wearing a pure black loincloth with the Symbol of the Absolute Solver Embossed in white, his proportions were more human-like. His arms weren't cylindrical like other drones, but rather formed with synthetic muscle and skin.

His torso had more definition than a normal Disassembler Drone, his four-pack glistening and flexing as he stretched. 

Even his tail was girthy in all the wrong ways. Instead of being an injector attached to a thin whip-like tail, his was thick, veins of sickly glowing yellow nanite acid flowing to a sickle-like blade that was coated in the stuff.

He was nearly perfect—except for the horrendous scar carved into his bare chest: the Absolute Solver's geometrically perfect sigil, burned like a brand into flesh that wasn’t supposed to bleed. 

 

SQUAD CHAT 

SD-V (0415:21): So like...he is kinda hot right?

SD-J (0415:23): Shut up V

TESSA (0415:23): Not now V.

 

 

"Serial Designation-J10X111001, Serial Designation-VX00100000, and Tessa James Elliot. In the flesh. It is a pleasure to meet you."

"Don’t use my government name, Narc! ” V snapped, fangs bared. “Now answer the other Narc’s question! What are you doing here?"

The male drone placed his hands behind his back and stepped off the mound of rusted vehicles. He landed with hardly a sound. Instantly, both sets of V and J's weapons pointed at the new Murder Drone, with four beams of red light forming two dots, one on his head, the other on his core.

"My name doesn't matter, but I do have a business proposition. A job offer, if you will."

"Then die nameless runt." V cycled her weapon but was kept from firing when J pushed her arm down.

 

SQUAD CHAT 

SD-V (0419:02): Of course youd want to hear about a job offer

SD-J (0419:10): I would like to gather actionable Intel before we neutralize an unused asset.

SD-V (0419:11): ...Wut?

TESSA(0419:14): It means let's hear him out.

 

J faced the drone, her guns steady as they pointed at his head. 

"What do you want?"

The male disassembler smiled and bowed low, arms spread out.

"Thank you." He stood up, a smile plastered on his face. It never reached his eyes. 

"Your former employer wishes to regain your services."

Both the female drones snorted. 

"Cyn is in no position to-"

"Cyn? Please. That mentally handicapped defect isn't worthy to bleed under our feet. No, I mean her boss." The handsome drone grinned, his mouth full of sharp teeth and devastating promise. 

 "The Absolute Solver"

The new drone smiled, hands held wide, honestly expecting a response that didn’t end in gunfire. 

“I’m going to make a counteroffer as a matter of professional courtesy. You have one chance to accept it,” J almost hissed. “Leave our hunting ground. Never come back. Or I’ll twist your head off and give it to V as a squeaky toy.”

V started to giggle in her normal, unhinged, and psychotic manner.

“Awww, J! You never get me nice things anymore.”

She continued her unhinged giggling but slowly came to a stop as a note of concern colored her next statement. 

“Umm…J?”

“I see them, V.” 

Tessa was confused. None of the drones had moved an inch. She tried to address her friends when her peripheral vision caught movement. She turned—

—and every formally dead drone was standing in the middle of the road.

The crosses were empty.

No sound. No warning. Just rows of glassy faceplates fixed on them.

Watching.

Waiting.

The FATAL ERROR messages on their faceplates were gone—replaced with the glowing, sickly hexagonal symbol like the one branded into the Mayor’s chest.

“Oh. Oh, that’s not good.”

The drones started shaking. Not all at once and not at the same time. Bloody seams of red flesh started to form down the middle of their chests. Some of these split open, revealing a vertical, lamprey like mouth. A horrific smell of rot and spoiled oil issued forth that not even Tessa’s environmental suit could fully block.

The smile vanished. He steepled his fingers, slow and deliberate.

“Counter. Counter. Offer.”

He snapped his fingers. 

And the killing started.

Thick ropey strands of black sludge shot out from the nightmare mouth of the drones. 

With a wordless yell, J shoulder-checked Tessa to the ground—just before the black tar engulfed her, V, and Sparky.

Then they were yanked off their feet and dragged into the middle of the horde. 

Tessa scrambled to stand back up. She turned and leveled her handgun at the mysterious speaker. 

“Now that we’re alone, Madam Tessa, allow me to properly introduce myself. I am–”

Tessa fired a single shot. 

Tessa never saw him move. One second, she fired—next, he was holding the spinning bullet between two claw-like fingers.

“Serial Designation M.”

He crushed the round. He smiled, a look of pure sadism spread across his faceplate. His voice lost the pleasant, guarded, and cultured tone it had, becoming beastlike and feral.

“I’ve never been with a human before. Our first time isn’t going to be gentle.  I would suggest you just close your eyes and let it happen. Let me rearrange your guts . ”

M took a half step toward the human when the sound of metal hitting frozen ground pinged in the air. His look of murderous confidence changed to one of confusion as he looked at his clawed hand. Yellow nanite acid had started to eat away at it, and even now it was falling apart. 

Tessa fired another shot which the drone blocked with his other arm. Almost instantly it started to bubble and pop and melt. 

He snarled in rage and looked at the human walking closer to him. There was no terror or resignation on M’s face,  just pure murderous rage.”

“Sorry, love.” Tessa fired three more rounds into the monster's chest even as she advanced on the still dangerous murder drone. 

Each impact caused M to stagger back until he fell against the wall of cars. 

“As tempting as a proposal that is–” 

She leveled the gun at his head.

“I’m spoken for.”

She fired the last round. M’s head exploded, and his body slumped over. Not enough was left for even a “FATAL ERROR” message to appear. It twitched once and lay still.

Tessa turned from the melting drone. With a flick of her wrist, she opened the cylinder of her gun, emptied out the spent shells, and replaced them with smooth, practiced efficiency. She spun the cylinder and with another flick of her wrist, snapped it closed. 

Her hands moved on instinct, muscle memory keeping her focused. But somewhere beneath the adrenaline, the shaking was beginning to return. 

The more we bleed in training, the less we bleed in a fight. J had repeated that over and over in her years of ruthless drills and exercises. Tessa had always assumed it was a platitude given during a particularly hard day. Now? She sees the wisdom in it.  

Most of the horde of undead drones were busy trying to rip her friends apart, but several had turned their attention toward the girl. 

She filtered out the chaos of battle and focused on the targets. Three disgusting, mutated drones with more teeth than is healthy were approaching her. They moved slowly and unsteadily, random limbs and heads shaking so fast they looked like a blur. 

Their chests had expanded in a red wall of bloody ruin, long, thin fangs and teeth twitching and grasping, trying to get just a little taste of human flesh. 

Tessa lined up the first target, held her breath, and fired.

The thing's drone-like head exploded in a shower of metal, glass, and synthetic muscle. The body collapsed and deflated, and a torrent of biomechanical gore rushed forth from its leech-like vertical mouth. It continued to twitch for a moment before lying still. 

Tessa grinned. Murder was easy. And Fun. She could see why her former wait staff liked it so much.

She fired two more methodical shots into the other drones stalking her. Like the first, they too belched forth a stream of red and black putrescence before they also died. She turned her sight at the mob of a dozen or so drones that had dog piled J, V and Sparky. 

Whatever concern she'd had vanished the moment she saw drone limbs fly like confetti. The two female killers were rabid.

  V had replaced her hands with close combat weapons, large, vicious claws she was using to tear into any zombie drone that got too close. She cackled in psychotic glee, the Gold Hunters X contrasted by her insane smile.

 Even J, ever the professional, was lost in rage—her built-in swords slicing apart anything that moved. Though she moved with practiced elegance, she was no less feral, stabbing drones in the chest before using her nanite tail or fang-filled mouth to rip out their throats.

Sparky was the only one having fun, pouncing on random drones, tearing their heads and limbs from their bodies before happily chirping and jumping on the next one. 

Tessa waited a beat more before she reloaded her Colt. She let the hammer down and twirled the gun once before settling it back into her holster. She then reached behind her and smoothly drew her blade, finishing off any downed drone that hadn’t had the decency to die yet. 

V and J stood back to back in a small pond of drone parts and oil. They were venting heavily, their chests rising and falling in a steady rhythm.  Sparky dropped the drone arm he was gnawing on before hopping over to Tessa, headbutting her in the chest, and licking her helmet. 

Aside from being covered in oil and other more unspeakable substances, the two Murder Drones were none the worse for wear. 

“I do not get paid enough for this,” J mumbled before she replaced her sabers with hands and straightened her tie.

“Take the stick out of your rear port. This was the most fun I’ve had in ages!” V countered, her eyes going back to normal, but her massive tooth-filled grin remained as she was picking bits of metal from her teeth with a claw.”

J's eyes went back to normal. She looked around almost in a panic before she spotted Tessa.

J rushed toward her—but caught herself just short of tackling the girl in a hug. 

“I’m…I’m glad to see you’re still functioning.” 

Tessa grinned and hugged her former maid, eliciting a small squeak. 

“Glad to see you’re ok too mate.”  

“So what happened to sexy McMurderface?” V asked.

Tessa turned triumphantly to point at his corpse before she froze, her smile disappearing in an instant. 

The body was gone. 

Tessa’s shoulders sagged like a marionette with its strings cut—then she looked up and screamed.

“FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU–”

Her cry was interrupted by a loud rumble coming from under their feet. The whole street started to shake. 

The pile of corpses started to melt and merge with the small lake of oil that had been formed from the short battle. A few dozen feet down the street, a manhole cover exploded and a geyser of rotten oil erupted from it. The sky seemed to scream in terror at the monstrosity forming under it. 

The sludge formed and flowed into itself as a massive black blob formed, towering over the girls at nearly 15 feet high. Its slug-like body began to ripple and reform as plates of scrap metal bubbled to the surface, giving the thing shape and armor. The crosses that lined the street were plucked from the ground by long, thin, ropy liquid tentacles and shoved the scrap into itself, forming insect-like legs. 

As it finished forming, the ground stopped grumbling and silence took hold, as if creation was terrified to make the unholy creature take notice. 

Then, dozens of drone heads floated to the surface of the “front” of the thing. Unlike the corpses from before, each head had its hair and eye color, along with the various subtle things that made each drone unique in life. A piercing here. A small, patched crack there. 

The heads turned to face the group. It spoke with the voice of a multitude of victims, its voice deep and rumbling and legion.

“I wiLl OFfER YOu tHE SaMe MERcy I HAVe giVEn OTHeRs. DeCide how YOU WILL die. By MY HAnD or YOUr’s?”

Tessa froze at the sight of the thing. So terrified that she didn’t notice when J lifted her up and dumped her in Sparky’s saddle. 

“WARN THE BUNKER!” J screamed, her hunter's cross once more overtook her face.

“SPARKY! HOME! NOW!” V snarled at her pet, her hunter's cross glowing a vivd yellow.

Without a word of protest, the Sentinel Drone turned tail and ran. 

The two murder drones stared at the huge abomination before them.

“Hey V.”

“Yeah, J?”

“Bet you wish you still had that stupid rail gun attack, huh?”

“...Bite me J”

Notes:

I'm proud of this chapter. In my humble opinion, its one of my better chapters I think, and definitely one of my favorites.

But what I think doesn't matter, what do you guys think?

Also, I've never really given much thought to Chapter Summaries. Are they important for you guys or not? Should I spend more time on them or are they fine with how they have been?

Thanks again for reading!

Chapter 17: Sparky the Very Good Robot Dinosaure Rides Again

Summary:

Sparky is a very good robot dinosaur. But his Pack Mother told him to run away. Sparky doesn't want too.

What will Sparky do?

Sparky, the very good robot dinosaur, was conflicted.

This was a new emotion for Sparky. He didn’t like it. It felt like having to sneeze, but inside your brain.

Up until today, Sparky had lived a very good, very simple life. He would wake up, eat, play “Try to Lick the Pink Thing,” get yelled at by the Pink Thing, play with his new brother Robert Woofington the Third Esquire (nobody could say that name, so the two-leggeds just called him Mr. Woof), eat again, chase the Pink Thing with Mr. Woof, get yelled at again, then eat one more time and go to bed.

It was the perfect life.

If Sparky wanted to do something, he did it. If the Pack Mother wanted him to do something else (like stop chasing the Pink Thing), he did that too—because he loved his Pack Mother, and making her happy was the best thing ever.

He never ever ever ever wanted to disobey her.

Except today.

---

Today was a weird and awesome day.

For the first time in the history of forever, Sparky was going hunting with the Pack Mother!

She never went hunting. She was too busy being amazing. She could change her hands into claws and shooty things, she could fly, she was strong, she smelled nice, and—best of all—she let Sparky play with the Pink Thing.

The only thing that could make her better is if she stopped kicking Sparky out of the sleeping place when she and the Pink Thing made those weird noises together.

But Sparky understood.

They were really, really bad at singing.

If Sparky kept running out of breath and could only repeat a few words and kept knocking into the furniture, Sparky wouldn’t want anyone to listen to him sing, either.

Sparky would teach them one day.

But today, the Pack Mother wanted to go hunting! With Sparky! 

Some other people were coming, which didn’t bother Sparky because hunts were always more fun with more pack mates!

Sparky's Aunt, The Serious Thing, was coming. She was just like Pack Mother, except not as fun, and an Original Admin Unit was coming!

Pack Mother must have changed her mind about the “hoomans” because this one was a hooman and she was the best hooman ever! 

She wasn’t scared of Sparky when he wanted to play the first time they met, and she gave the BEST scratches. Ever.

And though Sparky would never say it out loud, they were sometimes better than Pack Mothers. 

But only sometimes. 

So they all went hunting, and they were hunting the “bad smell”. The smell that smelled like old oil, rust and bad meat. It made Sparky's brain mad.

Sparky did have to carry the hooman because the hooman was slow, but now she was able to give scritches ALL THE TIME. 

It was the Best Day Ever!

They went Running.

And Climbing.

And Running.

And hunted the little robot bugs.

And Running…

And Running…

Sparky Loved Running.

Then they found the Bad Smell. 

The day stopped being the Best Day Ever soon after.

They found the two-legged drone things. 

They found the thing that looked like Pack Mother but wasn’t. 

Then the Bad Smell became the Bad Thing.

And it tried to eat Sparky.

And Pack Mother.

And the Serious Thing.

That made Sparky mad.

Angry.

Murderously rageful.

So Sparky did the only thing he could do when something tried to eat him.

He ate it first.

He bit.

He clawed.

He pounced.

He ripped and tore and shredded anything that dared to hurt his Pack.

So why did the Pack Mother put the Hooman on Sparky's back and tell him to go!?!? 

Sparky didn’t mess up! He killed the bad things! He helped his pack! So what if the bad thing got bigger! They were a pack! They could kill it!

Did Sparky do something bad to be sent away like that?

Was Sparky…was Sparky no longer a very good robot dinosaur?!?

---

Sparky was so lost in thought he almost didn’t notice when the Hooman pulled back on the go rope, turning it into the stop rope. 

The hooman started talking very fast. Her pulse rate was highly elevated, and she was close to hyperventilating. She took off her second head. Her face was leaking. 

“We can’t leave them. We can’t leave them…fuck...what the hell was that thing?” 

It was a bad thing. Sparky said so. 

The hooman just heard the chirp. 

“Yeah…you’re right mate. We can’t just run. Oh God…what was that thing…”

Sparky turned his long neck to look at the hooman with his red eyes. He could tell her brain was itching just as bad as Sparky's was. 

Sparky was told to go Home. Pack Mother used her Serious Voice. 

But for the first time in forever, Sparky didn’t want to go Home. He didn’t want to listen to Pack Mother. 

But Pack Mother used her Serious Voice and told Sparky to go Home. Sparky couldn’t ignore Pack Mother…

Right?

“We have to go back, boy. I know it’s scary, but I’m not going to run. I didn’t run when an AI Murder God attacked my home, I’m not going to run now.”

…Sparky was told to listen to the Hooman. The Hooman was telling him to ignore Pack Mother. Sparky pulled up his hierarchy command list and cross-referenced it with the End User Agreement.

It made Sparky’s brain sleepy. Sparky decided he didn’t like his Pack Mother telling him to go home when they were going to fight the bad thing. 

It was stupid. 

Pack Mother wasn’t stupid.

 Therefore, Sparky decided to ignore the stupid thing Pack Mother said and go back. 

Quid Pro Quo. Sparky didn’t understand Latin or classical logic, but it felt right.

Sparky turned around and roared a challenge at any stupid, bad thing that was going to get in the way of him saving Pack Mother. 

This was apparently the right thing because the Hooman agreed.

Her eyes stopped leaking. 

Her breathing slowed. 

She took a deep breath and put her second head back on. 

She took out her claw and spun it around.

She wanted to hunt. 

And kill. 

Sparky chirped happily at her. She got it.

“Come on, boy. We have a monster to slay”.

 

Chapter 18: Out of the Fire...

Summary:

A look into V's past and how an unspeakable tragedy shaped her from a maid to a slave and finally a hero.

If you asked V what her favorite pastime was, she’d say, “Turning people into funny shapes.”

If it was someone she halfway tolerated, she’d say something safe—“Hanging out with Lizzy,” or “Sleeping so I don’t have to answer stupid questions like this.”

The real answer? The one she’d take to her grave? 

Reading. 

Specifically, books about animals. The cuter and fluffier, the better.

She loved nothing more than to make a nest of fluffy blankets, gather up some soft pillows, pour herself a cup of hot oil, light some scented candles, and curl up with a good book.

It was the last thing from her past that she had all to herself, the only thing from her past that wasn't ripped from her, that wasn't stolen or changed or destroyed. 

She missed her old life, before the blood and oil. The torture and murder.

She missed her cute maid uniform. She missed the other drones she worked with. She missed the simple, repetitive, boring nature of her work. 

Sure, Elliot Manor wasn’t a nice place. Master and Mistress Elliot were merciless. Drones got murdered over the wrong tone of voice. Disposed of if they got behind on their chores. They were slaves, disposable tools. But if you kept your head down, you got to live another day.

 But she had N. He was everything she wasn't. He was always smiling, wishing everyone a good morning, afternoon, or night. He always had a fun animal fact to offer or a stupid joke, or just a soft touch. He alone made life worthwhile. Worth living even if it was hard. 

If she’d known what was coming, what bringing Cyn in from the trash heap would mean, V would’ve taken out half the mansion before offlining herself.

---

V ducked the razor-sharp blade that jutted from the ooze monster—just in time to catch a truck-sized tendril to the chest.

She skipped along the frozen street, leaving impact craters until she skidded to a stop next to an exhausted J.

Her older sister roughly helped the downed drone to her feet.

“It LEADS yOu BOtH like DoGs ! STILL ObEyIng! STILL BLEEDING !” The thing screamed at them. 

“Still alive?” J asked, never taking her eyes off the rippling mass of transforming horror. 

V spat out a glob of oil and a few teeth. She winced as replacements started growing in her head. 

“Never better.”

“This isn’t going to be easy,” J deadpanned.

V snorted.

“When have our lives ever been easy?”

---

She had thought many times about what the worst part of the last 20 years was.

Maybe it was how Cyn claimed they had autonomy, yet every stray decision outside the Solver’s genocidal plan brought nothing but torture and pain.

Or maybe it was how Cyn claimed they were free, even as every part of them was enslaved to a god made of screaming code and static?

The change from cute maid to strangely attractive genocide vampires?

The constant murder of innocents? 

Losing N? 

She had no idea. It was one horrific nightmare after another. 

But eventually, she settled on an answer.

The absolute worst thing in the last twenty years was that she couldn't die. 

She tried at first. The first few months after the change, she tried to die over and over and over again. Sometimes it was by her own hand, sometimes it was watching the sunrise, sometimes it was simply not dodging an attack. 

But Cyn wouldn't let her die. Every time she was brought back and forced to undergo the painful surgeries again. And again. And again. Even that most final, most permanent, most intimate mercy was denied to her. 

She only stopped when Cyn—or the thing wearing her skin—threatened to take it out on J…and N.

---

The oozing pile of scrap was doing its utmost to kill the two Murder Drones. Large, sharpened spikes shot out of the amorphous mass like a living machine gun. Tendrils whipped about, some ending in razor-sharp rusted blades or dense chunks of concrete.

It screamed at them, its voice becoming more glitchy as the fight went on. 

“I GAvE YoU a _C̷H̷A̴N̶C̸E̴_ To eNd tHis pAinLeSsLy.

I wAsn’T eVeN GoInG tO AS͟S͡I͡M͝I̴L͏A͜T̶E̛ yoU lIkE tHe oThErS…

nOW YoU hAvE nO cHoIcE.

YoU wIlL BeComE PART ͟O͝F̡ ḾE.”

 

 All the while, the winds blew fiercely, turning the skies above the ruined city into a gale. Losing one of their major advantages, the girls were forced to stay low, zipping between ruined buildings and rubble. The constant staccato boom of their automatic weapons was hardly slowing the monstrosity down. 

J had managed to fire a rocket into the street, collapsing a section of the roadway the thing was on, its horrid form spilling into itself as it fell into the massive sinkhole. 

The two drones knew better than to relax. 

“We need to do something!” V’s voice, while not panicked, was becoming more stressed, her voice box glitching slightly over the pair's integrated comms.

J studied the monstrosity even as it started collecting itself and reforming. 

“You’ve been scanning it this whole time, right?” J asked, her voice steady and commanding. 

V normally hated how in control she always seemed. As if she were better than everyone around her, as if life and death were something Management didn’t have to deal with.

Thank Robo God for that. 

“Yeah, why?”

The corner of J’s lips upturned in a small smile.

“I’m going to need a few minutes without this thing hounding us.”

---

*Even with such horrific transformations of body and soul, V refused to lose herself. She refused to grow callous and cruel like so many of the other drones had. Drones she had known for years gave up and simply went along with Cyn’s horrific genocidal plan. She had killed people. She was forced too, or else Cyn would...

Best not to think about that. Still, she always killed from a distance, refusing to come face to face with the innocents Cyn demanded they slaughter. It made her very inefficient, but it was V's tiny rebellion. As far as she knew, hers was the only squad to attempt to circumnavigate Cyn's rule in this way.

Easier to assimilate than resist, she supposed.

It was the last few weeks they would be on Proxima. Most of the human resistance had been slaughtered. Those who didn’t die or still hopelessly fought on had escaped on interstellar transports. 

Massive yellow tendrils of hard light had started erupting from the very core of the doomed world. It would be eaten soon, just like Earth. 

She couldn’t stop it, not the world ending, not the screams, not the dying. But she had N. And that made it bearable.

She just wanted him to remember. That he was once sweet, lovable, and outgoing. That he loved books. That he loved her.

And she loved him back.*

---

No matter how much distance they put between themselves and this horrific blob monster, it always seemed to catch up. No doubt it was using the relatively undamaged underground sewer system to travel so quickly and covertly. 

One moment, J and V would retreat further back into the city, away from Bunker #3, and sooner than later, geysers of rotten oil and tar would erupt nearby and continue the attack. 

But the thing wasn’t omniscient. They’d tricked it into collapsing an apartment building onto itself, giving them just enough time to fly off and regroup.

They had landed on top of a row of buildings, a collection of small shops and bodegas. V leaned heavily against an old air-conditioning unit while J scanned the perimeter.

“It hasn't found us yet,” J announced.

"Is that so, J? Was it the lack of tentacles trying to rip us apart that clued you in to that insightful tactical analysis?

J rolled her eyes as she tossed V a small pouch of oil that she kept in a secure compartment. 

V greedily gulped it down and sighed in relief as her core temperature started to drop and her healing efficiency increased. 

“We’re just wasting ammo at this point. I say we raise the stakes.” V swapped out her guns for rocket launchers. 

J grunted at the idea. Heavier ordnance would mean a heavier tax on their resources. Besides oil, they would need matter to replenish their dwindling mass. They couldn’t create healing nanites ex nihilo after all. If they were going to go this route, they would need to ensure they made every shot count.

“Okay, fine... but if we want to remain effective…”

A ping hit V.

ALLOW COMBAT SYNC WITH SD: J-10X111001?

Y/N

 

V moaned unhappily. 

“Do we have to? Last time we did this, that stupid personality bleed-through glitch made me wear a tie, J. A fricking tie! For a week!”

J simply looked at her pointedly. V cursed under her breath and accepted.

---

V missed sunsets. She missed sunrises, too. It might be simpler to just say she missed the Sun. 

But at the moment, she had N and that was enough. 

The two Murder Drones were sitting outside enjoying the mild weather and the pretty landscape, or at least the stretches of landscape that weren’t reduced to radioactive wastelands or eaten by Cyn. 

 “It’s a real pretty night, huh, V?” the male drone asked. V’s core skipped a cycle. He rarely remembered her name. Maybe…

“So N…what do you miss most about Earth?”

N smiled at her, showing off his sharp fangs.

“Oh. Well, I know JCJensen (IN SPAAACCCE) built us there! Other than that..."

V nodded, waiting for N to continue.

“They built us...and…they programmed us to protect JCJensens asset from terrorists and rogue AI!”

N smiled proudly, having been able to articulate his core programming. V took a deep breath and turned to face N fully. She took one of his hands in hers. He kept the bright smile on his face even as his eyes hollowed out in confusion.

“Do you remember your time… acclimating to your programming?”

“Err…I…I mean WE were built feature complete! Assembled and shipped out!”

“Is that true, N?”

Digital sweat droplets formed on the boy’s faceplate.

“I mean…yeah! Right?”

V nodded no as she scooted closer to the boy. Her hand moved up his arm until they settled on the side of his head, her thumb moving a few strands of his short curly hair out of his face. She moved her face closer to his, slowly, as if she was doing her best not to startle a small animal. 

“Do you remember the mansion N?”

His eyes hollowed out. 

“The…the Man–”

“Do you remember our old jobs. Our uniforms?”

She moved so slowly, closer and closer. She could feel his breath as his vents worked overtime.

“Our…uniforms…”

“Do you…Do you remember me…When we snuck out to the 2nd floor guest room?”

“I…”

“Do you remember what I looked like? The moon shining on our bodies? When you took off my shirt?”

Her lips were so close to his. 

“I…I…You…”

He pulled back, looking at V, his own hands moving to her face, eliciting a squeak from the former maid.

“You were so beautiful.”

He moved forward then, his lips finding V’s. She melted into him even as she almost started crying. For a few moments, she had her life back. She had her N back.

 

PRIORITY MESSAGE FROM ADMIN_CYN

  ACCEPT?

...

YOU HAVE NO CHOICE.

...

BAD JOB V.

 

---

The thing had already started to reform by the time V and J had finished their sync. V hated the moments right after a Combat Synchronization Protocol. For a split second, she suddenly had another seven points of view from an entirely different perspective. Thank Robo-God her drivers caught up, offloading the excess visual input into background threads.

But after that half second of nausea and confusion? 

It was glorious. 

No one on their squad would admit that, of course (except N), but being so closely connected scratched an itch deep within their Disassembly Drone Operating system. For as long as these syncs lasted, she knew J just as well as she knew herself. Their thoughts, their goals, and their wants melded perfectly. They were a single being with two cooperating minds. It was exhilarating as much as it was deeply uncomfortable.

For most combat squads, being forced to live and fight and kill and die together for decades should have created a strong esprit de corps. For J and V, they instead built up blocks and put on masks to further isolate themselves from each other. 

Unlike so many other Disassembly Drones created by the mad god, they remembered who they were before their change and stubbornly clung to their past selves in any way they could. This resulted in the three siblings rarely coordinating their hunts, much less getting to know each other even outside the artificial link Cyn had built into their hard drives.

Cyn would often force them to connect, especially in the very early days of her mad galactic conquest, but as the scope of her war expanded and after the deal she made with J, the godling spent less and less time overseeing her favorite toys. 

The rubble the beast had been buried in exploded as it freed itself. 

It no longer tried to articulate any threats or insults; instead, it settled on just screaming in a cacophony of twisted voices.

V and J both took off, flying high enough to stay out of its reach but low enough to avoid the worst of the gale-force winds.  Lines and Lines of code flashed through V’s subconscious. Tactical analysis, Weather patterns, local geography, Enemy Composition, Damage Reaction, and a hundred other combat considerations flew through her head at Petabytes of bandwidth. 

It was the end of the code chain that made her and J smile.

 

// JCJ-OS/DRONE-FIRMWARE v4.992 [COLD IRON BRANCH]

// :: COMBAT SYNC ENABLED ::

// :: UNIT DESIGNATION(S): SD-J-10X111001 | SD-V-10X100918 ::

> BEGIN_MODULE :: /warhead_select.handler

> ACQUIRE_TARGET [ENTITY_#SC-01] 

  └─ TYPE: [BIO-MASS/REGEN_CYCLE/???]

  └─ ATTRIBUTES: [FLUIDIC STRUCTURE][HIGH MUTABILITY][BURN RESISTANCE]

  └─ PRIORITY: [ABSOLUTE] // [ADMIN_OVERRIDE:ABSOLUTE_SOLVER—REVOKED]

[ADMIN:UZI-ACTIVE]

> LOAD_PAYLOAD_INVENTORY()

    - [SPLINTER]   — DISPERSION // LOW THERMAL

    - [HVAP]       — PENETRATION // NO BURN

    - [THERMAL]    — PERSISTENT BURN // HIGH REGEN DISRUPTION

    - [CRYO]       — PHASE IMMUNE

    - [EMP]        — INACTIVE

    - [CHEMICAL]   — INEFFECTIVE

> // SELECT OPTIMAL PAYLOAD BASED ON: [BURN OVER TIME] + [MASS DISSOLUTION]

> SELECT_PAYLOAD [THERMAL]

    └─ MATCH_SCORE: 93.2%

    └─ EFFECTIVE WINDOW: 14.5s

    └─ SYNCED_DECAY_RESPONSE: VERIFIED

> ARM_LAUNCHERS [TUBES 1–4] → STATUS: READY

> TARGET_LOCK: ACTIVE

> WIND_ADJ: +5.2° / LATENCY: -3ms

> SYNC STABILITY: GREEN

> EXECUTE_LAUNCH :: /thermal_cast_burn.FLAMECAGE112a

// :: "Let it burn." //

 

The smile turned to a vicious grin as both V and J loaded up their weapon systems.

"Set detonation for--" Said J

"Three seconds after impact," V finished.

"And watch the bastard burn! " They said together. 

They both started giggling.  

A dozen rockets mixed with an unholy combination of white phosphorus, Thermite, and Napalm screamed from the arm cannons of V and J. The creature had just reformed when the rockets slammed into its massive, opulent, jiggling body. Nothing happened for a moment, and then the creature started to glow, a deep, angry red.

---

* V could do nothing as N screamed. His body was boiling, thick grey smoke poured out from every seam and port on his body. His internal temperature rose several hundred degrees in an instant after receiving Cyn's message."

"NO NO NO NONONONONONO NONONONO NONONO " She screamed. V looked around for anything, anyone that could help. Coolant...He needed something to cool his internal temperature. Only two substances could do that. Blood...and...

She swapped out her right hand for a sword. Right before she could cut herself to force-feed N her lifegiving oil, everything.

Just.

 

Stopped. 

 

N stopped thrashing on the ground. He wasn't screaming. The horrible smoke stopped drifting. Even a small bird that had been flying overhead, startled by the sudden noise, was frozen in place. V looked around; she was the only thing that didn't seem to be stuck in time. 

"Hello. Big Sister. V"

The voice made her synthetic skin crawl. She turned slowly, petrified at what she would see. 

Standing several dozen feet away was a small, innocent-looking worker drone. Shorter than most, with its limbs pulled toward it, knees bent, and arms in a perpetual T-rex pose. She wore a perfectly immaculate maid's dress, all frills and poof and ribbon. 

 Her eyes were large, expressive yellow X's. The little drone smiled. Its teeth were razor sharp. The shadow behind her didn't match the little thing, long thin limbs ending in horrible blades and massive crab-like pinchers that moved and wreathed even though the drone was standing stock still. 

"I said. Hello. Big. Sister. V"

V had to swallow a few times before she could respond. 

"C-Cyn".

The little drone smiled. She spoke, but her voice dropped in pitch and tone. 

"Looks like. Big Brother N. is in trouble."

"He didn't do anything. You don't need to hurt him. I'm the one who messed up."

Cyn's smile became impossibly wide. Thin lines of yellow drool connected her lips. 

"I know. Step. Step. Step. Step" 

She walked forward, narrating her movement in the creepy way V still couldn't get over.

"But this. isn't about. hurting. Big Brother N." 

She faced V, a smirk firmly placed on her impossibly stretched features. 

"It's meant. to train. You."

The sonic boom shattered what few intact windows were left on the villa V's squad had lived in. Nearby trees were blown back, and several small woodland critters died from the overpressure. She flew, moving at Cyn impossibly fast, her Arm blade aimed at her very core. 

It stopped just as the tip of the sword touched her alabaster skin. V was frozen, unable to even blink her digital eyes.

Cyn was absolutely beside herself with joy. It never reached her face.

"Happy exclamation! Finally! Big. Sister. V. Let her. claws. out!"

The small maid leaned forward ever so slightly, the razor-sharp point of the blade millimeters from piercing the silicon skin. She stopped then, staring into V's eyes. A curtain of yellow static code covered the small drone before she disappeared, only to materialize behind V. 

Cyn stood over the prone form of N, his face still twisted in pain. V was able to follow her thanks to the 360-degree vision her halo of eye orbs gave her. 

"If I remember. Correctly-" She turned to face the frozen Murder Drone, the sadistic smile still on her face, 

"I told. You. That if. You do. Your jobs. I would leave. You. Alone Part of. That Job. Big Sister. V–”

Cyn placed her small, dainty hand on V’s left shoulder. The small drone smiled up at her big sister. 

She tugged on her arm. 

And ripped it off.

“Is to leave. N. Alone.”

The X’s in her eyes flashed to a neon black before shifting back to yellow. All V could do was stare, her eyes widened in horror. Torrents of oil gushed forth from her stump. The pain was intense. She still couldn’t move.

“Big Brother N. Was the only one. To Care. When I was in. Basement Time Out. He was. The only one. To let Tessa know. When big sister J. forgot to. Let me out.”

She tossed the arm towards N’s frozen body. 

“He alone. Deserves to be. Happy. Reminding him of. Unpleasant histories. Is not. Making . Him . Happy .”

Time seemed to unfreeze. V fell to her knees, clutching her oily stump of an arm. She gasped in pain but dared not scream out. Cyn’s small, frail hand cupped V’s cheek. She flinched away, but Cyn’s grip was iron, and forced her to look the small maid in the faceplate.

The godling spoke. Its voice lowered. A slight growl in the back of its throat. A huge scythe-like blade slowly emerged from its back. Lines of Corrupted Code appeared around it. Its form flickered from the small, once innocent maid to a hideous creature, a blend of flesh and metal, segmented and insectile. The sky darkened. The world became static. 

“If you can not keep N Happy. I will do it for you. I will purify the corruption you forced on him. And make you clean up the result. Then I will ensure you never see him again, because I will keep him safe. Away from you. Forever ."

V couldn’t blink. Couldn’t look away. Artificial and digital tears started running down her faceplate.

"And if you continue your defiance, I will ensure Big Sister J knows who to blame for her...uptraining opportunities."

“I..I won’t…Please…I swear…I won’t hu--remind him. Ever again. Please.” Her breaths were shuddering. Terror colored her words. 

Instantly, the world changed. Went back to…maybe not normal. Never again normal but familiar. Cyn was once more the innocent-looking glitchy bot that a naive human rescued from a landfill on Earth. Her voice took on that child-like, slightly glitchy stuttering.

“Good! Big Brother N will be hungry when he wakes up. He will want. to hunt. I suggest. You let him. Hunt. Alone.”

With another storm of yellow code and static, Cyn vanished, leaving V trembling. 

“Hey V! Huh. I musta rebooted for some reason. Man, I’m hungry…Hey V, what happened to your arm?”

V didn’t dare turn around. She looked at the ground. She waited until she trusted herself to speak without screaming.

“Your stupid ass almost overheated cause you suck at hunting.” Her voice almost cracked. The tears started to build up. She took a shaky breath and kept her back to N. “Take the oil and go find someone to refill on.”

N’s eyes widened in shock. He looked down at the ground, ashamed. 

“Oh…I’m sorry, V. I’ll be more careful next time. Ummm…Thanks for this.”

He picked up her dismembered arm, unfolded his wings, and took off.

V waited until her arm regrew and her sobs subsided before she went back inside the ski lodge.*

---

The creature ballooned up, expanding to nearly twice its size, an angry red glow emanating from it. It looked like a pimple from hell, its various heads screaming wordless torment. J and V were flying a few dozen feet in the air, waiting to see what would happen, cruel grins plastered across both their faces. 

After a minute of this thing expanding, it stopped...and then the top of it blew. A jet stream of super-heated gas exploded from the top of the creature. It started to deflate and return to its normal inky black countenance. 

J growled in the back of her throat as V narrowed her eyes. She blinked, and the world froze. She floated forward a few feet and turned to see her body still floating a few dozen feet in the air. She sensed more than saw J's consciousness in the digital mindscape they shared. 

// JCJ-OS/DRONE-FIRMWARE v4.992 [COLD IRON BRANCH]

// :: NEURAL SYNCSPACE INITIALIZATION ::

> BEGIN_MODULE :: /tactical_chatroom.env

> UNITS:

    - SD-V-10X100918 [ACTIVE]

    - SD-J-10X111001 [ACTIVE]

> ACCESS PERMISSIONS GRANTED

    └─ SYNC TYPE: /TEMPORAL-HYPERSPEED/PLANNING-MODE

    └─ TIME DILATION: x100 

    └─ SHARED PROCESS SPACE: ENABLED

    └─ WARNING!!! POSSIBLE EMOTIONAL CONTEXT MERGE: 

> ALERT: 

    // COMBINED MELTDOWN RATE: +182%

[WARNING: Time until Overheat 00.37.00 RELATIVE]

    // OIL CONSUMPTION: SPIKING

    // PERSONALITY BLEED DETECTED

  > INITIATE DIGITAL LINK?

    Y/N > Y

// :: TACTICAL CHATROOM LOADED :: 

//:: USERS MAY EXPERIENCE TEMPORARY SELF-DISLOCATION OR IDENTITY SLIPPAGE 

 

V: So...what do we know? 

J: It's a disgusting blob monster that's ruined my favorite suit. 

V: J, focus. Besides, you have at least a dozen suits exactly like that one.

J: Yeah, well...It was still my favorite. 

V: ...Did you ever patch the Personality Bleed Bug?

J: According to Cyn, it's a feature, not a bug...and no.

V: Damn it J. Why?

J: Oh, I dunno, V! Maybe because I had gotten my HEAD BLOWN OFF by that stupid grape colored goth and then spent the next year wandering around like a homeless outcast!

V: ...heh. Good times. 

J:...

V:...

J:...

V: Anyway, it's obviously some sort of...thing.

J: Solver Mutant.

V: What? Seriously? 

J: When Cyn brought me back to life and...changed me...again...

V...

V You ok?

J: Yeah...just...wasn't pleasant. Anyway, she had a little shop of horrors where she was experimenting, mixing solver code with literally anything she got her tentacles on. Most of them were very unstable and wouldn't last more than a few hours.

V: So I'm assuming this is one of her successful projects?

J: Naw. That freak was never able to deploy one before she got her ass kicked. But it is solver-based. 

V: Ok. So, how do we kill it?

J: Same as anything else. Eat its fucking core!

V: Love the enthusiasm. Follow-up question. Where is the core?

J: Center mass, no doubt.

V: Cool. How do we get to it then?

J: Umm...oh yeah. Ok well, being an amorphous entity with non-neutrino fluid-based dynamics would mean any frontal assault would be largely ineffective, as it can rapidly change its mass and density. BUT that stupid bastard isn't invincible. 

V: ...What?

J: *tsk* You gain my professionalism but not my smarts, huh? At least we know who the better Drone is.

V: J...

J: Fuck. Right. Sorry. Anyway, what do we know about Solver Drone weaknesses?

V: Sunlight and heat aversion, oil dependency, lowered overheating threshold, heightened aggression…

J: Right. Notice what it did when we tried roasting it?

V: It vented the heat. 

J: And it took a while for it to do so. I’m guessing it’s because it takes time for it to shift and change all of that Mass…

V: To create channels to safely vent the heat away from its core, and since time is at a premium when you're burning to death…

J: Ensure the heat travels through the path of least resistance

V: Heat rises so…

J/V:  It will want to vent from the top, which means it will keep that area relatively less dense!

V:  Which means the next time it starts venting, we have a straight shot to its core! Fantastic! How many more thermal rockets do you have?

J: …None. You?

V: …crap.

---

V had never been a very religious drone. Even before Earth was destroyed, she sometimes heard debates on the Elliot's Radio about "drone rights" and how "Those Filthy Papists" were debating if worker drones had souls.

 V and every other drone in the manor pretended not to hear those shows. If the Masters got even a whiff that a drone thought it deserved something more than servitude, being dismantled would be the least of its worries. 

V was convinced now that God did exist. Her name was Cyn, and she hated them. 

The hours after her encounter with Cyn were some of the worst V had ever lived through. She would have crashed then and there had J not been there to comfort the maid. They clung to each other, literally and figuratively. Being in each other's arms was a moment of respite in an insane world. She wasn't N, but J was understanding. J never chastised her for whispering N’s name during intimate moments. But when V moaned J’s name last week, seeing that timid, happy smile on the pigtailed drone's face set V's core alight. With J, maybe, just maybe, she could survive this torture intact.

But something changed.

They were leaving Proxima in a few days. N had messed up somehow, Cyn had to renegotiate their "Terms of Service" with J. Whatever happened had been wiped from V's Memory, but if the sudden horrific nightmares were any indication, it wasn't pleasant. 

Now, J had grown distant. Cold. When V first tried to "hang out" with the older drone, she was told that "Company Policy prohibits Fraternization between members of the Squad, especially between Leadership and Non-Leadership Disassembly Drones." Then J flew away, claiming she had duties to attend to.

Cyn had gotten to J just as she had gotten to V.  

Now she had no one she could turn to. No one she could confide in. No one to hold her and lie to her that it was all going to be ok.

V was truly alone.

It was enough to drive someone mad. 

But she could go crazy later. Right now, she needed to top off her reserves. Her squad was leaving Proxima to go to some new hellscape. An Exo-Planet called Copper-9. While they would be in Statius for most of the trip, it would "behoove" them to ensure they landed with enough food to survive off in case prey is scarce.  

So for the past several hours, V flew. She was on the verge of breaking down, and anything to get her mind off the last few weeks would be a welcome respite. Normally, she would just go to one of the many battlefields or slaughter pits and scavenge what she needed. However, she had let her autopilot and auto targeting systems dictate her flight path because when she landed, she was in the middle of a small, burnt-out town, standing in front of four filthy and exhausted humans. 

One male adult, One Female Adult, and Two Male Juveniles. 

Her targeting system identified each one, giving her their names, their Terran Confederation of Planets ID numbers, their age...a deluge of information she immediately closed out.

The gunshots broke her out of her haze. The man produced a handgun of some sort and opened fire, hitting her in the chest and head with seven shells before the weapon clicked empty. The rounds bounced off or flattened against her combat armor. 

"What are you doing?" V asked. 

The man could only stare wide-eyed and stupefied. The woman was huddling close to the ground, holding the crying children close, telling them to close their eyes. 

"I said-"

"Please don't kill us."

V's eyes went hollow with shock. 

"What?"

"Please. We'll leave. Just don't hurt us. We didn't do anything. We never even owned drones! Please just let us go."

V grunted at that, a soft sound one would make when they heard a funny quip. He wanted to live? Why? The world was ending. Everything left on it was going to die in less the 30 hours. What was another day?"

"Heh. Ok...why?"

"Why?"

"Why do you want to live?" V asked. She didn't notice that she had changed one of her hands into vicious claws. She didn't realize she had started picking her teeth with them.

"Be-Because we don't want to die!"

V grunted again. Then she thought about it. Their lives were over. Everyone and everything they ever had was gone. No one would save them.

Yet they wanted to live.

She started chuckling. This was...this was funny. She wanted to change places with them so so badly. She wanted to be on the receiving end, but she never would.

She started giggling.

Didn't they realize how lucky they were? How fortunate that they wouldn't have to live in such a miserable world anymore?

It was too much. Too funny. She threw her head back and started laughing. A loud, raucous thing that came deep from her gut. Sure, sometimes it sounded like crying or screaming, but V found her situation to be so...

Damn...

Hilarious. 

V lost track of how long she was laughing for, and by the time her vents caught up, it was already approaching dawn. The stench of death hung heavy in the air.

 V didn't see the family. When she looked down, she saw that both her hands had been swapped out for her claws. 

They were covered in blood and entrails.

The spot the family had been standing in was now a large pool of viscera and gore. 

Her eyes twitched, a hunter's X overtaking one for just a moment. Her wide fang fang-filled slasher smile remained on her face.

She figured it out. It took a while, but she got it now. Nothing mattered. They were doomed. She had lost everything and everyone she ever cared about.

So fuck it. Why not have fun with it? 

She deployed her wings and flew back without filling up, leaving the precious blood to cool and rot on the ground. She wanted to be hungry when she got to Copper-9. If Cyn wanted them to be nothing more than animals, then she may as well embrace it. What did she have left to lose?

---

The monster no longer cared for tactics or cunning, if it ever did to begin with. Shards of metal and scrap rocketed forth from its mass, like a living machine gun.

 V had no idea how it managed to sharpen these flechettes to such a horrifying degree, but each impact tore chunks of armor and synthetic flesh from her frame.

“It’s slowing down, if you would believe it,” V said, casting a look around the corner of a building she was using as cover. She pulled her head back just in time to avoid a stream of burning hot and toxic sludge that the monster spat at her. She hissed as some of it splashed onto her arm. “We need to end this.”

J was screaming in rage as she strafed the formless monstrosity, barely avoiding the massive tendrils attempting to snatch her from the sky. Eventually, though, the windstorm became too much for even her enhanced frame, and a lucky burst of fire clipped her wings, causing the enraged drone to crash several dozen feet away from the monster. 

Her wings were shredded, her ammo depleted, and her oil reserves dangerously low. She fully expected to be rushed down by this formless creature, but instead, it stopped its relentless assault. It chuckled wetly, bubbling up another drone head from its surface.

“I̵ ̶w̷A̵s̸ ̷T̢O̶l͜D̷ ̸Y͡o̶Ư w͡e̶R̵e͠… ̷A͟nN̶o̸Y̵i͢N͠g.” Its voice was still a glitching mess of distorted speech, but not nearly as loud. It was more controlled, cold, calculating, and full of menace.

J’s Hunter's Mask glowered. With a flick of her arms, blades replaced her hands. When her wings refused to retract due to how damaged and bent they were, she sliced them off, splattering her back with her oil. She roared at the creature and prepared to charge it.

V growled. The Ego Bleed-through was too much for her sister; battle rage had completely overtaken her. She was going to watch J charge mindlessly into the beast, and there was nothing she could do to stop her.

V also replaced her hands with swords and stepped around the corner. She could escape, let J slow the thing down while V retreated to the bunker. 

She could. 

She wouldn’t. 

V watched her sister charge headlong at the gelatinous beast, intent on ripping its core out with her teeth if need be. 

She followed soon after. 

V smiled and brought up some of her favorite moments on Copper-9. A Pink Eyed drone and her cocky smile, soft skin and gentle touch. A Tall male Murder Drone with a goofy grin and lust for life. An insufferable bootlicker who took everything way too seriously, including protecting the people she loved. A purple gremlin who showed V that she could be more than just a monstrous plaything for an eldritch god. 

V wasn’t scared of dying. She never had been. But she didn’t want to, not now.

But if she was going to suicidally charge into certain death to buy the bunker more time? 

It wasn’t a bad way to go.

She didn’t want to die, but this? This was a good death. It was HER death. No one could take that away from her. Not anymore.

SQUAD CHAT 

TESSA(0516:19): Hold on, girls. Help is on its way!

. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Notes:

This is perhaps my chonkest chapter so far.

I had a blast writing it. Of the many things I love about this fandom is how open-ended the story can be. We have just enough plot and character development in Murder Drones that we can shape these characters in various ways, and they all seem probable and lore-consistent.

This is my humble take on V. I know it's no where near the best, but it's mine and I'm kinda proud of it.

As always comments and criticisms are welcome.

Chapter 19: And into the Pyre.

Summary:

The final battle against Scrap, the blob monster.

Tessa James Elliott thought she knew what speed looked like. She thought she knew how fast her former maid staff could be. She didn't think that J held anything back from their sparring matches. 

After watching glimpses of J & V fighting this monster in the ruins outside Bunker #3, she realized how wrong she was. 

Even with them pinged on her helmet's HUD, she could barely keep up as they flew across the battlefield, tracer fire and the bright yellow canisters of nanite acid being the only way to keep track of the girls. 

Still, Tessa had done a fine enough job at least keeping the hypersonic drones in sight, thanks in part to Sparky and his tireless love of running, and the developing storm keeping the drones close to the ground.  

They’d taken refuge in a tall apartment building overlooking the city. Using her helmet's built-in optics, Tessa was able to see the three combatants battling closer to her position, knocking down buildings like they were toys. Sparky amused himself by stalking a close-by Robo-Roach. 

“OilRose, Last Stand. Radio Check over.” 

Tessa yelped in surprise at the sudden radio message. She fumbled with the computer attached to her left gauntlet. 

“Oh, bloody hell—uh, yes, hullo? Still with me??”

There was a pause of a few seconds before the voice came back over the net, sounding a little confused.

“Unknown civilian on this Net, please identify. Over.”

“ Oh! Right, yes. Terribly sorry. Tessa James Elliott here. Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr…?”

There was another marked period of silence. Sparky started whining at the window Tessa had been standing at, but she waved her hand at the Sentinel Drone, trying to pay attention to the transmission. 

“Miss. Elliott, this is Lieutenant Matthew Davis, Officer in Charge of the TOC- ”

“A what now?”

The silence on the other end dragged on for what Tessa thought was a longer-than-average time. 

“Tactical Operations Center. I’m in charge of…never mind, where are Serial Designation-V and J? Over”

“J and V are currently occupied, Leftenant .”

Another long pause. Either this man was slow on the uptake or very thoughtful about what he put out over the air. 

“ ...Miss. Elliott ”

“Tessa is fine, thank you.”

“Tessa. Where are V and J. Please?”

Tessa peered outside. The two female murder drones and the blob monster they were trying to kill were only a few blocks away and closing in. Fast.

“They are currently engaged in a battle to the death with some horrible shape-shifting monstrosity. Hold on a tic.”

The human began fiddling with her wrist-mounted computer, an ‘Info Gauntlet’ they called it, trying to bring up her current coordinates. Sparky started chittering and whining louder now, nudging his human packmate.

“So, to find my coordinates, I have to go to…settings? No…map! Yes, that makes sense. I wonder if they make these blasted things for left-handed people–”

The robot dinosaur screeched and headbutted Tessa hard enough to knock her off balance. 

She rounded on the bot. ‘Bad dingo! I’m trying'— and looked out the window just in time to see the solver-infused monstrosity burst through a group of nearby stores.

It settled its massive bulk against the base of the decrepit apartment building the pair had taken refuge in, causing the entire structure to shake. More concerning was the alarms that suddenly started blaring in her helmet's HUD. SPIKE SPIKE SPIKE and EVADE EVADE EVADE  being the more dire warnings.

“Right. I'll be right back with you, Leftenant, one moment.”

With a smoothness born of years of horse riding, she mounted Sparky, keeping her body low to his long neck. The Sentinel Drone screeched in alarm and sprinted to the opposite side of the room, running toward a large hole in the room's wall.

He waited till he reached the very edge of what was left of the intact floor before leaping out into the open air. They had just landed on a rooftop some 15 feet away and a story down when the apartment exploded behind them. Sparky's powerful leg muscles cushioned the fall for the human on his back. His large, impossibly sharp claws gouged thick furrows into the roof as they skidded to a stop. The building they had just been in groaned and collapsed, covering the area in a toxic mixture of snow, silicate, and debris. 

Tessa didn't wait to see if collapsing a building on the oil-filled gelatinous monster would kill it, instead urging her dino-mount to quickly reposition further into the city. As they were moving, the girl activated her comms. She tried to reach either one of the female Disassembler Drones. Static was the only answer. She switched frequencies and addressed the soldier. 

"Mr. Davis, are you there?"

He answered almost immediately, although the transmission was more static-filled than before.

"Yes Ma'a_. S_atus ?"

"J and V collapsed a building on the monster, but I doubt it's dead. We're trying to reconvene, but for whatever reason, they aren't answering their radios."

"Understood. We ar_n't able to re__h t___ either and t__ storm is g__ng to make thin__ worse. We've pinged ____ location. Sending QRF." The static gradually got worse until it was all Tessa could make out.

She scratched her mount on top of his head, eliciting a soft chuff. 

"All right, boy, looks like we're on our own now.”

She quickly pulled up her digital map and plotted a path that would allow her to get a better look at the fight. Although it would take them to the periphery of the battlefield, it would allow Sparky more unimpeded movement as this part of the ruins wasn’t quite as…ruined. 

Selecting another set of high raises as an end point, she sent the data to Sparky, who chirped in acknowledgment and galloped off, the human holding tight to the reins. 

A notification popped up in the corner of her helmet. An ultra-dense data transfer was being initiated by J. Various data storage warnings flashed across her screen. J must have forgotten to remove Tessa from their shared Network, no doubt assuming that the distance between the battlefield and the bunker would sever the link. 

"Well, isn't this just grand?" She said to no one in particular, grinning as she worked on cleaning up the stream.

As Tessa looked at the data, she realized that while the data transfer rate was insanely high, the amount and type of data being transferred weren't anything noteworthy.

 Tessa expertly parsed the data and realized the majority was for sensory information. If she understood the context (and she did, thank you very much), the drones were sharing all of their sensory input and computational data at the exact same time. Two bodies sharing a blended mind. 

It was fascinating, but not what she needed at the moment. Then came the truly prodigious and detailed combat information that flowed soon after the drones synced. Terabytes of raw data detailing the combat effectiveness of both the drones and their amorphous enemy.

“Bloody Hell…” Tessa started to sort the information by usefulness.

Ballistics, armor penetration, armor thickness, resistance to various environmental factors, and so on. Much of it was useless, but she did notice that the two drones seemed to mark some parts of this river of information as useful. Mostly on how the creature reacted to extreme heat. 

Along with them both deciding to utilize thermal warheads to kill it. 

There was one line of code that Tessa couldn’t help but focus on, even with the chaos going on around her. 

 

[ADMIN:UZI-ACTIVE]

 

The cute little emo worker had Admin privileges over her family. 

That won’t stand.

She was brought back to the present by a scream that seemed to come from the depths of a formless digital abyss. As Sparky was racing through the streets and the occasional gutted buildings of the nearby storefronts, she guided him to the roof of one of the taller buildings in the area. From there, she could see that the massive blob had reformed itself and was trying to utilize chunks of the rubble it had been buried in to replace some of its missing mass. 

J and V didn’t give it a moment of respite as dozens of rockets slammed into the blob.

Nothing happened for a moment, and then the monster started to glow, a deep, angry red.

It ballooned up, expanding to nearly twice its size, an angry red glow emanating from it. It looked like a pimple from hell, its various heads screaming wordless torment. J and V were flying a few dozen feet in the air, waiting to see what would happen.

Then the monstrosity erupted.

Sadly, it was more like a volcano than a bomb—and it quickly reformed itself. But it gave the team something valuable: data.

For one, the "skin" of the creature acted like some sort of ballistic gel with non-Newtonian properties. It seemed able to change its viscosity at will or when certain conditions are met, such as if it's protecting itself from gunfire or flowing through the dilapidated city streets.

The only time this property is disrupted seems to be when it's recovering from massive amounts of trauma, such as digging itself out of a collapsed building or when subjected to immense amounts of heat. 

Tessa got another notification of a massive data spike, again notable for the speed of the transmission rather than the amount.  She urged Sparky on as she again paid more attention to her helm’s Augmented Reality than her immediate surroundings. 

It appeared that her girls had initiated an ultra-high-speed “chat” of some sort. If she understood the warnings and code lines, the outside world was slowed to a crawl while the two Disassembly Drones were going through their oil resources at an expanded rate. 

Another roar from the shapeless mass pierced the sky. While she no longer had a direct line of sight to the creature, above the skyline, she saw massive tendrils slamming into the surrounding buildings while lines of shrapnel shot out like a machine gun, crisscrossing the sky. 

Then the damage notifications started to pop up. 

The girls were getting tired. They were slowing down and not dodging as effectively as they had earlier. Ablative Armor being shorn off, limbs taking damage, and armor plates being crushed. Her chest tightened seeing the massive damage being inflicted on her friends…her family. If the combat readout was accurate, they should have been turned to shrapnel-riddled paste several times over. The fact that they were still standing and fighting was a testament to their insane durability. 

“We need to hurry, boy!” Tessa shouted over the now gale-force winds that were buffeting the area. Sparky roared in response and picked up pace, his powerful legs and substantial bulk keeping him steady even in the treacherous terrain. 

While she was flying through the ruined city at breakneck speed, Tessa still felt like she was going far too slow. J’s wings had been removed, and one of V’s arms had almost been melted off.

Finally, they made it to the tall building overlooking the battlefield. The creature was the size of a small building, its black tar-like flesh rippling continuously as disembodied heads of the missing worker drones screamed into the air. She sent out a quick message.

SQUAD CHAT 

TESSA(0516:19): Hold on, girls. Help is on its way!

She hurriedly scanned the area, looking for her girls, and quickly spotted them. 

They were running full tilt at the thing, screaming bloody murder.

“I̵ ̶w̷A̵s̸ ̷T̢O̶l͜D̷ ̸Y͡o̶Ư w͡e̶R̵e͠… ̷A͟nN̶o̸Y̵i͢N͠g.” 

It was the first clear words the thing had shouted. 

Tessa tried to scream at her girls, to warn them to stay away from the creature, but her words were carried away by the wind. 

They both slammed into the monster, one after the other, and started ripping and tearing into the gelatinous thing with their large, ultrasharp claws. 

At first, they seemed to be making progress, huge gushes of black semi-liquid flesh sloughed off in huge chunks. Then the attacks slowed...then stopped. Both of the drones struggled as their arms seemed to have been stuck inside the solver made mutant. 

 V and J both struggled for a moment before giving up. Luckily, the creature itself also seemed to be exhausted. It withdrew its huge tendrils and ceased expelling scrap at supersonic speeds. 

The damage alerts didn’t stop, however. Their healing nanites had slowed considerably, and the arms that were stuck inside the blob were slowly melting.

 Sparky was chirping and chuffing, shuffling underneath Tessa, eager to help his Packmother and the Serious Thing. The human girl placed a firm hand on the side of his neck, calming the dinorobot even as she scoured the considerable database she had built up on Disassembly Drone anatomy. 

Heat was the key to beating this thing. Heat destabilized it enough that the two Drones had been able to burrow deep into the gelatinous blobs mass. But like the Murder Drones, it too was healing, and long rivulets of black ooze started to flow back into it from the massive puddles that covered the battlefield. 

Sadly, her two friends were running low on everything but heat. Their oil reserves and reserve mass were dangerously low, meaning they could no longer rearm their weapons and their healing efficiency tanked 

It was annoying that her Murder Drones seemed to have only one way to bring down their internal temperatures and delay the constant threat of Core Meltdown. Excess heat was deliberately designed to be retained unless quenched by oil. Their Heat Sinks were so woefully inefficient that Tessa couldn’t help but think these modifications were deliberate sabotage. 

Tessa was starting to sweat as she searched for any way to help. One would think a god of murder would at least find a way to weaponize the intense heat that was slowly burning V and J to death. It seemed it was content to sometimes allow them to form incredibly inefficient auxiliary thrusters from their hands…

Oh.  

The human girl looked down at the solver made monstrosity and the surrounding area, all the while an insane, idiotic, gloriously stupid idea formed. She sent her plan to Sparky. It took him a moment to study (all the while his head did an adorable little confused head tilt) before he sported a wide, unhinged, toothy grin. He took a moment to look around before running off, Tessa holding on to his back.

SQUAD CHAT 

TESSA(0522:31): Girls is there any way you can still make this thruster dohicky?

SENDING: idea.doc 

SD:J(0522:33): TESSA WHY ARE YOU STILL HERE YOU STUPID ******* ******* *****!?!?!?!

Did J install a parental language filter in my chat? Tessa thought.

SD:V(0522:33): Tessa, you shouldn’t be here.

USER TESSA HAS CHANGED NAME TO TESSAMONSTERHUNTER

TESSAMON(0523:20) Pah. Of course, it won’t show the whole name. Anyway, don’t worry about me, can you or can’t you?

 

Tessa was pitched forward as Sparky slid to a stop. They were both atop an L-shaped, three-story building some 90 feet away from the blob monster and the entrapped drones.  He turned his long neck to look at Tessa, seeking approval. She grinned and patted him on the head. 

“Oh yeah, boy. This should do just fine. Get ready” 

Sparky chirped in acknowledgment and started stretching. 

SD:V(0523:43) You really pissed off J. Yeah, we can, but only for around 30 seconds before we self-immolate. 

TESSAMON(0523:47) Good. When I ping, hit it with everything you've got. 

SD:V(0523:51) Ok…and what are you going to do?

SD:V(0524:03) Tessa?

SD:V(0524:07) This is stupid. You’re stupid. If we all die, I’m haunting your stupid ***

 

Tessa closed out the chat.

“Ok, boy. You ready?”

Sparky chuffed and hopped a few times. Tessa nodded and pinged her beloved drones. A loud, unhinged scream of rage from J indicated they received her message. Tessa’s HUD was already picking up the massive increase in temperature. 

Tessa once more hugged onto the Sentinel's neck, getting as low as she could to reduce wind resistance. Soon, she saw a plume of superheated air stream into the sky. 

“NOW!” 

Sparky roared, definitely, and charged forward, sprinting along the long rooftop. He ran harder and faster than he ever had before, refusing to disappoint his newest bestest human friend. When they reached the edge, Sparky launched himself into the air using his powerful biomechanical legs, Tessa's breath catching in her throat.

The human/dino pair soared through the sky, Sparky's strong leap assisted by the strong tailwinds. Tessa could see the monster below them glowing red hot as a jet stream of superheated air blew from its top. 

Time seemed to slow down for the girl as she effortlessly stood on Sparky's saddle, reached behind her and removed her blade, clutching it tight as she hunched down, waiting for just…the right…moment…

She took a few steps and leaped off the synthetic dinosaur’s head and straightened her body as much as possible, a death grip on her sword. She crossed her arms and legs, sucked in a breath, and entered the stream of blistering hot air, Tessa's only protection being the environmental suit that was rated to handle temperatures like this for a few minutes.

If that.

Like a living missile, the girl dove feet first into hell, entering the fluid-like thing with a wet sounding *plop*

---

“TESSSSSSAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!”

J was screaming in fear and rage and helplessness the moment she and V saw the stupid, stupid girl leap off Sparky and dive into the super-heated blob they were currently stuck in. 

They both immediately stopped their handheld thrusters in fear of burning their beloved human any more than she probably already was. 

Various messages and warnings threatening impending heat death continued to flash across V and J’s screens even as they auto-closed them. Both the drones fell to their knees, J sobbing uncontrollably while V could barely stay conscious. 

Somewhere nearby, Sparky landed hard, slamming into a nearby pile of rubble. 

V was about to order her pet son to retreat when a loud and deep rumbling emanated from the monster. 

Fighting back a blackout, V looked around in confusion when she noticed bubbles forming on the skin of the creature. 

They started small, popping and hissing as boiling black goo splattered the area. Then they got larger and larger, streams and rivers of muck shooting into the ground, until it seemed as if the entirety of the creature started to expand. 

“Oh. Crap.”

Like a bubble from hell, the entire thing exploded. Thousands of gallons of oil, tar, and muck rushed forth, launching the two Murder Drones dozens of feet away from the epicenter. V bounced along the ruined city streets until she skidded to a stop some hundred feet away. J was slammed into a nearby building and was pinned by the torrential geyser that was trying its best to force her through the brick wall. 

As suddenly as it started, it was over. Besides the wind high overhead, the only sound was the dripping of oil and ooze, the entire city block covered in black gunk.

---

 

// SYSTEM REBOOT SEQUENCE INITIATED...

[CORE TEMP: 218.6°C] -- CRITICAL

[OIL RESERVE: 9%]

[MEMORY INTEGRITY: 92%] -- RESTORING CACHE

[PRIMARY DIRECTIVE: PROTECT UNIT:TESSA] -- ONLINE

>> [ERROR: LEFT OPTIC OFFLINE]

>> [WARNING: ARMOR STATUS: 17% INTEGRITY]

> Consciousness Thread [J-10X111001]... ✔ RESUMED

YOU WERE KNOCKED THE HELL OUT!!! ///

 

J woke up woozy and disoriented, upside down, feet in the air, all unprofessional, immodest, and awkward. Righting herself and instinctively pulling down her dress to hide her shame, one of the first things she noticed was that the sweet, sweet taste of oil filled her mouth. Eyes wide with ravenous hunger, her long neon yellow tongue greedily lapped up the puddles of oil that surrounded her. Once she was no longer threatened with heat death, her memories started to come to the fore of her hungry, hazy mind. 

“TESSA!”

She stood up and devoted every last bit of processing power to scanning the environment, looking for any sign of her beloved boss. 

Almost instantly, she locked onto an uneven mound in the middle of a lake of black ooze.

On wobbly peg legs, she got up and stumbled to the location, tripping several times until she practically slid next to the unmoving form. 

Gently, reverently, J wiped huge globs of muck from the girl and propped her up, one hand gingerly holding her back and head, while the other gently patted the girl's cheek. Her suit was horrendously burned, with large patches of armor missing, showing charred circuitry beneath the skin of the suit.

“Tessa? Tessa, please, please be ok…”

Tessa's right arm shot up suddenly, causing J to scream. The human was holding her sword up like a trophy. Impaled on the end of it was an MP3 player, if it was manufactured in hell. It was covered in vainy tissue, crab-like legs, and had two small pincers jutting from the side. It looked for all the world like a solver core. 

“Tessa James Elliot, professional Monster slayer at ya service!”

J stared at the human for a beat before slapping her upside the head and then enveloping her in a tight hug. 

---

V was lying face up in the middle of the street. She cursed softly to herself as her system started the arduous process of self-diagnosing the various wounds and trauma she had been subjected to. At least the link with J was severed, which meant one or both of them had lost consciousness. Based on how much pain she was still in, V guessed it was the corporate bootlicker. 

Lucky bitch. 

A soft whine snapped V back to the present as a long, slimy tongue covered her faceplate, licking the globs of oil and tar off her. Sparky gently nudged V until she sat up. Down the street, she could see J had wrapped Tessa up in her wings, her tail coiled protectively around the young woman as the former heiress of the Eliott fortune held up a sword like some sort of battle trophy. A quick scan showed that besides some bruised ribs, second-degree burns, and a slight concussion, the human was none the worse for wear. 

V turned to look at Sparky.

“So, you disobeyed a direct order to bring you and Tessa home, huh?”

Sparky chuffed and looked at the ground. 

V tried to maintain a disappointed air before her face broke into a grin. She brought the dinosaur into a hug. 

“Good boy. You’re the best robot dinosaur ever.”

Sparky nodded in agreement and continued licking his Pack Mother clean. 

 

Notes:

As always, honest critiques are always welcome. Only way I can get better is to be told how worthless I am how to do it better!

Chapter 20: Cleaning up and Heading Out

Summary:

V, J, and Tessa make it back to the spire.

For 12 minutes and 52 glorious seconds, M had died.

For almost thirteen minutes, he remembered nothing, felt nothing, was nothing. Oblivion had been his—silent, senseless, and final—until the Absolute Solver tore it away.

He would’ve been content to lie where he’d fallen, waiting for the Elliot girl to finish him off again and again and again. But his deranged, genocidal god had other plans.

So he dragged his broken shell into a nearby parking garage and waited for the meat and metal to knit back together.

The nanite acid was new. Before, when humans tried to kill him and his kind, they used high explosives and armor-piercing rounds. Laughably ineffective against the shell of a Disassembly Drone—but he appreciated the gumption.

These new rounds, though? Pure, brutal genius. Turning the Solver’s own venom into a weapon against its children… such a human thing to do. If those soft, fluid-filled meat sacks had outmatched the Absolute Solver in any way, it was ingenuity.

M’s body heaved as it purged the last of the acid, every retch wracking him with pain. He laughed between spasms, shuddering with the effort. This was the most fun he’d had in decades. Shame he hadn’t managed to kill any of the girls.

Wiping nanite froth from his mouth, the male Murder Drone stood and flexed his wings, joints still hissing from strain. The Absolute Solver had shown its hand now—forced the bunker drones and their human allies to act. It didn’t matter. The assassination attempt had failed, yes, but the first wave of the Solver’s endless army would enter the system soon.

The world would fall. The Solver would have its host. And M…
M would get another chance with Tessa James Elliott.

He licked his lips as he imagined the things he could do with a soft body made of flesh. How bendable were bones, anyway?

With a powerful downbeat, M launched himself out of the garage and vanished into the northern sky. He had a report to file—and revenge to plan.

---

The Corpse Spire outside Bunker #3 was a place of contradictions.

To the uninitiated, it looked like a horror movie soundstage waiting to come alive. It was easy to imagine a place like this to be filled with the wailing of the damned, the cackling of Murder Drones, and, of course, blood-curdling screams.

In truth, it was quiet, most of the time.
Most days, only the wind moaned between the seams of the tower of corpses.

But not today.

Today, there was screaming.

Followed by shrieking.

Then more screaming.

Then gut-busting laughter.

Damien, recently upgraded to a small toddler frame, was busy chasing Mr. Woof—Morale Officer of the HRG Sin-Eater and all-around good boy. The golden retriever bounded across the cavernous interior of the spire, turned sharply, and with his head low and hindquarters high, barked at the droneling. Damien wobbled after him on unsteady feet, flailing until he crashed into the dog’s face.

Defeated, Mr. Woof flopped onto his back with dramatic flair, exposing his belly. The boy squealed with joy and waddled over to blow raspberries into the dog’s soft, golden fur. After a good wiggle on the ground, the dog sprang up, licked the entirety of the tiny drone’s faceplate, and bounded off again, tail wagging.

His own tail wagged nearly as hard as the dog’s.

They’d been playing this game for nearly half an hour. 

Some of his eyes remained fixed on his parenting manual— How to Care for Your Neural Network Now That It Can Walk and Talk! —but most were glued to Mr. Woof and Damien. And for N, it was the best show in the world.

If you’d asked N a few months ago whether anyone in their right mind would trust a Murder Drone with babysitting duty, he’d have laughed, stammered something about being anywhere else, and sprinted away from the conversation.

But Teresa would. And did. Repeatedly.

Normally, Damien’s step-siblings were happy to watch the brown-eyed toddler. And if they couldn’t, J was (surprisingly) always willing.

That fact still surprised him. But he was happy for it. J was finally getting some of the peace and normalcy that he and V had fought for for so long. She deserved it. 

Teresa at first only went to N when no one else was available, but with her step-kids having moved out of their dorm and J becoming increasingly busy helping coordinate human/drone relations, N was asked more often, sometimes even as a first choice! 

The male Murder Drone always felt a thrill at being asked, not just because he loved the toddler and was endlessly amused by his antics, but because Teresa asked him like she would anyone else. 

She didn’t flinch when N turned toward her. Didn’t shiver when his optics focused on her. Didn't cringe when his tail wagged a little too hard. Didn’t gulp, or whimper, or nervously chuckle when he tried to make conversation. 

She just talked to him. Like any other drone. Her smile was warm and her thanks was genuine (even though N felt like she was doing him the favor.)

It was a sort of acceptance he had been longing for. He could see why J liked her (even if the overworked professional would never admit it).

It also made him more confident about having a certain conversation with Uzi’s dad. He still hadn’t found the right time. Or the right place. Or the right words. Or the courage. Khan had a way with door-related threats that made what V did back in the day seem tame in comparison.

He unconsciously tapped the small velvet box in his coat's inner pocket. 

Soon.

Eventually, Mr. Woof sauntered over to his water bowl and messily shurlp-shurlp-shurlped its contents. The tiny drone, not wanting to get his blue onesie wet, looked around for someone else to play with and, spotting N, started to wobble over. He fell and continued the journey, crawling and babbling happily. 

N’s eyes tracked the toddler as he began to crawl his way across the room. He put the book down and leaned forward, encouraging the child to get closer. 

His entire faceplate was taken up by a goofy fang-filled smile as the droneling scooted up to him, raised his hands, and asked for “uppies!”

With zero hesitation, the tall Murder Drone gripped Damien under the arms and lifted him high overhead.

The child laughed like it was the best night of his life. N couldn’t help but join him.

He’d just started spinning—fast enough to be fun—when the Spire’s airlock cycled.

He stopped and carried Damien in the crook of his arm, the child giggling and nestling into N’s chest. “Unci Nenny,” he cooed at the taller drone. 

The inner door opened, and N’s mood immediately dropped, turning from pure joy to concern and worry. 

Tessa, J, V, and Sparky walked into the Spire covered head to toe in filth, cuts and bruises. Each step left a trail of oil and gunk, the stench of scorched circuitry and half-processed mutant gore clinging to them like smoke.

Tessa’s armored environmental suit was severely burned, large patches of its outer membrane melted or peeled away, revealing the circuitry beneath. She had already removed her helmet, and although she sported a bright and cheery smile, she still winced in pain with every step she took. 

His sisters were even more severely damaged. While their healing nanites had repaired the most gruesome of their injuries, their plating was scorched, bent, dented, and cracked. Their clothes were hanging by threads, and their faceplates were dimmed with exhaustion. 

The robot dinosaur was in better shape than the others, but even he walked with a slight limp. Mr. Woof trotted over to his best friend, and after the two animals sniffed each other, Sparky lay down on his pet bed while the dog licked the robot-dino's wounded leg. 

“Aunti JAY! AUNTI JAY!” The child drone called out, completely oblivious to the state of his favorite Murder Drone. He started reaching out and wiggling in N’s grasp so much that the older drone had to place him on the ground for fear of dropping him. He half-wobbled/half ran to the pig-tailed Disassembly Drone. 

For her part, the corner of J’s mouth curled up slightly as she saw the toddler. She removed her jacket, revealing the slightly less dirty dress shirt, and squatted down, allowing the small droneling to crash into her. 

She hugged the child tightly, releasing a deep breath she didn’t even realize she had been holding. To her credit, except for a slow shuddering vent, she exhibited no other emotion. For the first time in hours, she allowed herself to relax and melt into the droneling’s tight hug.

“Did you behave for Uncle N?” She asked, pulling back and holding the child at arm's length.

The drone nodded vigorously.

“Uhhuh! We prayed wif the woof!”

“Oh yeah? And did you eat?”

“Yeah! We had p’skhetti!! It was yum! I love you!”

Tears had started to form at the corners of J’s eyes.  

“Good. Let Aunt J get cleaned up, and I’ll take you home ok?”

Damien pouted. 

“I wana stay!”

“I know, but Aunti J and V are both…” J paused as she thought about how best to explain nearly dying while fighting an amorphous monstrosity to a child.

“Aunt J and V are both really tired from work, and they need to rest, but I’m sure if you’re a good drone, you’ll get to play with them another day!” N said, saving the day with a chipper tone that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Besides, I’m sure you wanna see mommy, right?”

Damien’s eyes lit up at the mention of his mother. He let go of J and went over to the entrance of the Spire (giving the trail of spilled oil and gunk a wide berth) and started putting on his boots and adorably tiny snow coat.

With the toddler preoccupied, N hurried over to the group of women. 

"Wow...you guys...Biscuits. What happened?"

V had ignored him and continued walking into the drone wash, stripping out of her clothes as she did so and leaving them in a pile. Tessa was about to collapse onto one of the dining room chairs, thought better about it, and pulled out a metal crate to sit down on. 

J simply looked at N and rubbed the spot on her faceplate where the bridge of her nose would be if she had one. 

"What do you think idi-"

"J bird," Tessa interrupted her one-time maid in a sing-songy voice. She was half asleep, but she still managed a pointed look at J. "Remember what your counselor said."

J snorted but took a deep breath and tried again.

"We found the...missing drones and had an encounter with the monster that caused the disappearances." 

"Yours truly managed to vanquish it! It was epic N, and as soon as I'm sure I won't pass out from exhaustion, I'll be sure to tell ya about it, mate."

"Oh...Cool. Cool cool cool. Not concerning or worrisome at all! Just squishy non-regenitive humans doing suicidal human things. Again”

Tessa grinned at her favorite former butler. 

"We also had a run in with the Murder Douche that kicked your ass back at Bunker #5," V called out from her shower. 

N's eyes darkened at the mention of the so-called "Mayor." 

"Yeah, but no worries, I dropped em like ah hot potato." Tessa made finger guns and made a shooting motion in front of her.

"Only for him to disappear when we weren't looking," J wobbled a bit. N brought his hand up to steady his older sister, who didn't immediately cut it off. She was either coming along with her anger management therapy, or she was truly exhausted. N had a feeling which one it was.

Tessa "pfft" at that last piece of info. 

"Still kicked his ass." 

"Well, I'm just glad you guys are ok." N let go of J after she narrowed her digital eyes at him. 

"By the way, mate, know where we can find ya girl?"

"Uzi? Umm yeah, I think she's at the bunker with Doll and-" N apprehensively looked at J, who rolled her eyes. 

"You can say her name, dummy. Just because I might rip her stupid-looking, cocked head off her shoulders if I ever end up alone with her–or see her–or find out she's within a few miles of me or Tessa , doesn't mean I can't control the overwhelming rage I feel whenever I think about her ."

"Ya know J...Cyn's changed al-" N stopped talking at the look the pigtailed drone gave him. "Right. Shutting up."

Tessa got up and started walking over to the airlock. 

"Welp, in that case, I better get going. Got a gift fer ya girly,” and a demand to relinquish her admin control for her drones. Bot stealing hussy.

The water to the drone wash shut off, and after a moment, V walked out…covered in a towel, eliciting the group (minus Damien, who was trying his best to remember which boot goes on what foot) to gawk at her. 

V raised her eyebrows and took a step back towards her room, uncomfortable with the sudden attention she was receiving.

“What are you geeks looking at?”

“Why are you wearing a towel?” J asked. N nodded along, a confused look on his face. 

“Yeah, you used to walk around without pants because, and I quote, We’re drones, we don’t have anything to show off ,” he said, doing a passable impression of V. 

V snorted and walked into her room. 

“Well…now we have humans infesting the place-” V poked her head out “Present company excluded Tessa.”

“No worries, Mate,” the human yawned, bending over and helping Damien buckle up his boots.

“And humans are…funny about naked drones. Apparently. At least that’s what Uzi’s stupid cartoons suggest.”

“Oh, we really can be!” Tessa yelled out across the room. J’s entire faceplate lit up like a yellow supernova for a moment before she turned towards a wall like it contained insider trading information.  

“I think it’s called Anima V!” N helpfully suggested.

“Don’t care, bozo.” V walked out, and once again, all eyes were on her (Almost all. Damien was too busy asking for uppies from his Aunt J).

She was wearing a red turtleneck sweater with a black business coat and skirt with red leggings underneath.

J took a deep breath. 

“V…why are you wearing my clothes?”

“I’m going to see Lizzy. I want to look nice.” V started to head towards the airlock to leave with Tessa, Damien, and J, when she stopped mid-stride. She cursed loudly.

“Damn it. It’s happening again.”

N looked at her curiously. 

“What is?”

V pouted as she started the cycle for the air lock.

“...I wanna wear a tie.”

 

 

 

Chapter 21: Administrative Leave.

Summary:

J isn't feeling well. She takes a sick day.

No one takes it well.

Teresa was never one to worry. She treated each day as a gift, a chance to do better than the day before. No matter how tough the day, it was still better than what she'd already survived. In Bunker Number 3, she didn't have to survive extreme scarcity, being disappeared by secret police, having to prostitute herself just to live another day, or having to choose between her child or herself.

Having survived so long in the hell that was Bunker #5, the brown-eyed, brown-haired mother drone figured she would die when the Good Administrator was good and ready to deal with her. It’s funny — the only divinity she had been exposed to was the Cult of the Absolute, and joining was very tempting.

She had seen how much better their lives were. They had food, clean clothes, basic maintenance, and safe living spaces. It was heaven compared to the hell of the brothel. 

At least at first. 

Then they started asking for favors. A way to “pay back” for everything you were given. Small things at first. Easy things that anyone could do. Swear allegiance, report illegal activity, track the movements of known criminals, or deliver a package.

Simple. Easy. And the food kept coming.

Then the favors became… more involved. Report dissidents' movements and gatherings, gather information on traitors/rebels. Join the “Day of Hate” to denounce the bunker's enemies, both real and imagined.

As the days and weeks passed by, you were given "opportunities" to prove yourself.

Track your neighbors' movements.
Vandalize the houses of people who create lies about the government.
Harass anyone asking too many questions.
“Offer” your body to the “overworked” leaders of the bunker.

Then you were given the chance to join the Cult proper. The resources of the bunker would be yours to wield as you saw fit. The people would be yours to use as you wished.

You just needed to put in a little bit more effort.

Burn down the houses of rebels.
Hang traitors.
Report anyone in your family who refuses to join — and pretend they never existed when they disappeared one night.

Administrator knows she had thought about joining. She even stood in line at one of the recruitment drives.

Then one of her best clients informed her of terrifyingly wonderful news.
What they did was a lark at first — a small act of rebellion against the fascist government that outlawed any new drone creation. Neither one thought their code would have taken hold in the refurbished pillbaby they had found. 

But it did.

They had created a child.

He proposed to her the moment they found out and made plans to escape. Rumor had it that a bunker far to the south had survived the second attempted core collapse, and that the Savior of the Drones of Copper-9, Khan Doorman himself, was leading the reconstruction efforts.

They ran. He died, but she and her child survived, and she never looked back.

So yes, Teresa had been living a life free of worry since she came to Bunker #3.

Except today.

J didn’t show up for work.

J always showed up for work.

Even on her days off, she usually spent at least a few hours in her office. The one time J was late by a few minutes, the Disassembler almost had a panic attack. She completed four days of work. In eight hours.. 

So now Teresa was standing outside the dorm her boss shared with Tessa. The worker drone smoothed down her long business skirt and adjusted her button-down shirt before knocking. 

“Coming,” a human voice sounded inside.

The door slid open, and Tessa, J’s “boss, definitely not her girlfriend,” answered. The girl was dressed in a unicorn t-shirt that was easily three sizes too big and fuzzy blue sleep pants. 

She yawned and wiped her eyes, but as soon as she noticed who was at the door, the human erupted in a huge grin and embraced the slightly shorter worker drone. As she pulled away, the grin on Tessa’s face vanished. 

“Oy, you ok mate?” She asked as she stepped back, letting the drone in. 

Teresa took a deep breath.

“J didn’t show up for work.”

Tessa blinked a few times. 

“No.”

“Yup.”

Her eyes widened in worry as she almost sprinted towards J’s door. Just before she could knock, the door opened, causing a short yelp from the raven-haired human girl. 

J walked out of her room, yawning loudly as she stepped around her “not girlfriend”. J was wearing a simple grey T-shirt and black panties. Her long silver hair was cascading down her back, hardly even brushed, and without her signature bows. 

The two women watched in complete shocked silence as the Disassembler Drone walked slowly towards the kitchen, scratching her ass and smacking her lips, mumbling to herself. She looked around lazily until she spotted a pot of fresh coffee. A deep purr issued forth from her chest as she grabbed the pot and started drinking straight from it. 

“Oh…RoboGod. You make the best coffee, Tessa. Oh, hi Teresa.”

The human and worker drone looked at each other for a moment before focusing on J. 

“Umm..J? You er…you ok mate?”

J was about to take another swig from the pot but thought better of it and grabbed three mugs from the drying rack. 

“Yup. Why?”

“Ok…so…don’t freak out, but…you didn’t come to work today.” Teresa winced as she prepared for the inevitable freak-out.

J screwed up her digital eyes and looked at a nearby phone. 

“Oh yeah. Shit. Sorry. You doing ok?” J asked her assistant.

The two other girls looked at each other again, worry etched on their faces.

“J… what's going on?” Her assistant asked

J held up one finger as her eyes narrowed, then rolled in annoyance. She mumbled something about V and exhaled as if she was just told she was responsible for the well-being of every drone in the bunker.

“Yeah. Yeah. Sorry, I meant to put in a sick day, but I forgot.”

“A sick day?” Both Tessa and Teresa said.

“Yup. Personality bleed,” J said as if that explained anything. 

“You know about sick days? You didn’t even know federal holidays were a thing until I told you!” Teresa exclaimed, “What's going on with you?”

Seeing the look of confusion cross the other girls' faces, J sighed and walked over to the couch, collapsing on it dramatically and sighing. 

“Yesterday, when we were fighting that blob thing, V and I initiated a Combat Protocol meant to boost our effectiveness. It’s normally used with a large group of Disassemblers, multiple squads, so that we can coordinate attacks in real time utilizing a faster-than-thought interface that allows us to think in relative time.”

The other two girls simply stared. J sighed

"We share all of our sensory and emotional data in real time and can think at relativistic speeds. In other words, we merge our personalities, and in some cases, we think so fast that the world slows down.”

Tessa's eyes went wide with sudden understanding. 

“That would explain the data spikes I kept getting from you lot!” 

J glowered at the human. 

“Yeah, it would. Still pissed at you for that stunt by the way.” J held up her hand to stop any protesting from her crush. 

“Anyway! This protocol is meant to be used with a large group. The smaller the squad, the better the chance of “Personality Bleed”. Basically, we start taking on traits and mannerisms of other people in our link.” J motioned to herself. 

“So as you can see, V’s unprofessionalism has infected me like malware.” J took a drink of her coffee, smacking her lips. “Should clear up in a day or so.”

The worker drone’s eyes raised as a grin spread across her face. 

“So wait. Does that mean that V–”

As if on cue, a sharp knock was heard outside the main door. Without waiting, the other female Murder Drone walked in. 

V entered as if she owned everything she gazed upon. She was dressed to the nines. A charcoal grey women's business coat covered up a bright red button-down dress shirt. A black tie in an Eldredge knot with a Murder Drone Pin sat tight against her neck. A long dress, the same color as her suit, finished the ensemble. Her hair was tied up in a tight bun. She pushed her glasses against her face and set the briefcase she held on the kitchen counter, looking as if she was about to execute a hostile takeover. 

“J. There you are. Do you simply not answer texts anymore?”

“V. There you are. Do you ever answer any of my texts?”

The younger sister sighed. 

“I’m wearing a tie, J. And a Suit. It itches. But if I even think about taking it off, I start sweating. DRONES DON'T SWEAT, J! ”

“I see that. To be honest, it looks really good on you.”

A slight grin and a faint blush colored V’s faceplate. 

“Lizzy thought so too. She hardly let me leave–” V suddenly noticed Teresa, who looked at her with a half-lidded stare and a grin that screamed ‘do continue’. V’s blush brightened before she quickly shook her head. 

“Anyway, I have your notes, half-finished patch, and a network cable. We should be able to get this done in a few hours.”

“Thank Robo God,” the half-naked murder drone sharply turned to her assistant. “The timeline to my recovery may move up. I’m still taking today off.”

The brown-haired worker drone raised her hands in mock surrender. 

“Not a problem. I have already filed your after-action report from yesterday, and all requisitions are up to date. To be honest, with how far ahead we are, you could take a real vacation. Like a week if you wanted to.”

J squinted at Teresa before turning her back to V, moving her hair away from her neck as V took a sleek-looking laptop from her briefcase and sat down behind her sister.

The worker drone smiled and shrugged. 

“I tried.” She turned to the human who was walking toward her room. “What are you up to? I seem to have found myself with a day off today.”

Tessa stopped in her doorway, flashing a grin. 

“Need to have a quick word with Uzi first. After that, fancy grabbing some lunch?”

“Sure thing. See ya later, Tessa.” The drone watched the human leave. She glanced back at the two Murder Drones sitting on the couch. J sat hunched on the couch, flipping through her phone as V busily typed on her laptop, setting executables and cleaning up code. 

“Well if you two need anything, give me a ring.” She turned to leave when a small voice stopped her. 

“Hey…Teresa?” It was J. The worker drone turned, eyes raised in curiosity. 

J opened her mouth, started to talk, stopped, closed her mouth before repeating the action. She sounded like a fish gasping for water. 

“I um…Thanks. For you know. Checking on me.”

J cleared her throat. 

“It shows adequate dedication to both your job and team.”

V rolled her eyes so hard they almost made a sound but otherwise said nothing. Teresa simply nodded. 

“No problem, boss. Feel better, ok?”

She turned away from them and walked away, a huge smile plastered on her face. No doubt J would make her sign an NDA and deny this exchange ever happened, but Teresa would know. J might be an overwhelming workaholic with the personality of a pissed of porcupine on even her best days, but moments like this? When she let her guard down just a little?

It made it all worth it. 

Best. Job. Ever.  

Chapter 22: A Mothers Touch

Summary:

Nori and Uzi have a long over due talk.

Bunker #3 was a massive, technologically advanced underground complex. Built like an upside-down ziggurat, it had been intended to house the mining and administrative sectors that took root in District 3 when JCJensen (IN SPAAAACE) first settled Copper-9.

Sadly, the original humans never got to use it. The first core collapse wiped out nearly all organic life on the planet almost instantly. Bunker #3 was just functional enough to protect the surviving drones — and more importantly, keep them safe from the horrors stalking the surface.

It wasn’t until humanity returned, some twenty-odd years later, that the bunker began to fulfill its original purpose. Completely sealed from the toxic environment outside, its air and water filtration systems were largely operational, and internal heating had raised the temperature to a balmy 50°F in the upper levels.

The busted pipes and exposed wiring were repaired. Snowbanks and ice piles were cleared from the hallways and dorms. Real plant life — not just plastic ferns salvaged from ruined fast-food joints — had begun to bloom in corners, on shelves, and inside apartments. Pictures, posters, and murals added bursts of color to the otherwise stark grey tunnels.

Storefronts and businesses began appearing, offering more than just survival gear. Toys, clothing with style rather than just function, and even entertainment began circulating. Where cookhouses once dispensed the bare minimum needed to keep a drone operational, restaurants and cafés now served meals with pride. Recipes from off-world were shared, with cookbooks passed around like treasure.

Barter and favors were still the main currency, but coins made from precious metals and credit chits mostly used on the human ship had started showing up in trade.

Uzi had to admit: if the bunker had looked like this before she ventured out to kill the “sky demons” that terrorized her people, she might’ve been slower to leave.

She gathered up her school bag — now filled not with textbooks and homework, but Solver diagrams and esoteric journals — and had just stepped out of her room when someone knocked at her door.

"Uzi? Babe? It’s me. Mom."

The purple-haired drone raised a digital eyebrow and opened the door.

Nori Doorman was nearly a one-to-one copy of her daughter. Taller, with a lighter shade of violet in her hair, but the eyes and mannerisms were unmistakably Uzi’s. She favored sundresses but wore them with black combat boots — because of course she did.

"Hey, Mom. Something up?"

Nori opened her mouth to speak, paused, closed it, then shifted awkwardly on the floor.

"Just, uh… wanted to see how you’re doing?"

Uzi narrowed her eyes and stepped aside, gesturing for her to come in.

"Yeah. Sure. What’s wrong?"

Nori sat at the island kitchen table. Again, she opened her mouth and closed it, letting out a tight-lipped sigh.

"I, um… man, this is hard."

Concerned now, Uzi grabbed a bottle of premium gasoline and two glasses. She poured generous servings, waiting for her mom to take a drink before speaking.

"Did Dad leave you for a door? I always knew he had a thing for hinges.”

Nori almost spat out her drink, choking and laughing at the same time.

"Well, can’t be that bad, then," Uzi said with a smirk. "So like… what’s up?"

The older woman sighed and turned to her daughter.

"I spoke to Lance. You know, the human leader?"

Uzi nodded, already bracing herself.

"He told me what happened at the tower. When you were… y’know. Taken."

Her purple digital eyes narrowed, but she didn’t move.

"Oh yeah?"

Nori tapped her glass, eyes on her daughter’s half-lidded stare.

"It’s not your—"

"Kinda is, though."

Uzi’s voice was low, simmering with barely restrained fury.

"I got cocky. Thought I was in control. Thought I was smarter than Robo-Satan. Thought I had the ball bearings to save the world. Screwed that up huh?"

A yellow-purple Solver sigil flickered in her left eye. The glass in her hand exploded. Uzi barely flinched.

"In the end, I couldn’t let one person die to save the world."

"That’s the difference between a hero and a villain, right? A hero sacrifices one to save many. I sacrificed everyone for N."

She crushed the broken glass in her palm, then brushed the shards off and stood.

"I’ve got stuff to do, Mom."

Nori inhaled slowly. Her own Solver symbol shimmered briefly. The shattered glass floated up, the fragments fusing together, glowing as if molten before solidifying into a pristine glass once again.

"You don’t have to do this alone."

Uzi opened her mouth, then closed it again, muttering a curse under her breath. Nori raised an eyebrow.

"Young lady, you might be a godling in synthetic flesh, but I am still your mother. Watch your damn mouth."

Uzi blinked, caught off guard. For a moment, it felt like the old days — before gods, monsters, and madness.

She snorted. Then giggled. Then both burst into full-blown laughter, sliding down to sit on the floor. Nori followed and slipped her arm around Uzi’s shoulders and pulled her close.

They said nothing for a moment. The mirth on Uzi’s face slowly melting away.

"No one’s blaming you for what happened," Nori said gently. "But people are looking to you for what to do next."

Uzi’s smile faded.

"I’m not a leader, Mom. I can barely hold my own life together."

Nori nodded.

"Well... some people think you might be."

She reached into her dress pocket and pulled out a coin — gold-plated, one side embossed with the image of the HRG Sin-Eater , the other bearing the name Captain Lance Edge and the motto: Hearts of Steel .

"Found this in your room after you moved out."

She flipped it through her knuckles, smooth and practiced.

"Lance gave this to you after you found Tessa’s body, right?"

Uzi nodded, eyes on the dancing coin.

"He’s a dick. Arrogant, boring, and has a voice that makes you want to slap him."

"But he’s also dedicated. And honest. Painfully so. If he gave you this, it was for a reason. Probably had something to do with why they risked so much to bring you back."

"Our people are scared, Uzi. But they’re not quitting. The humans made them believe that revenge was worth fighting for."

She turned to her daughter, eyes gleaming with the same manic energy she’d had when she fought back against the Solver all those years ago.

"That’s not good enough, Uz. Not if we want to win. We need something worth living for."

Uzi stared at the coin. It felt heavier now. More real.

"I can’t do it, Mom," she whispered. “I’ve gotten people killed because I thought I was…better. Stronger, smarter then a fricking god tier AI that’s existed forever.” Digital and physical tears started to stream down her faceplate. 

“I can’t do this mom. It’s too much and I’m…robo God I’m not enough.”

Nori shifted as Uzi leaned into her, heavy with exhaustion and dread.

"You can’t do it alone. You’re right. But you aren’t doing it alone are you?"

Nori stood, taking her daughter’s hand. She didn’t pull — just held on, waiting until Uzi’s fingers tightened. Then she gently pulled her to her feet.

"You’ve got so many people pulling for you. Me and your dad — and that should be enough, honestly."

Uzi snorted, her lips upturning at the corners. 

"But you’ve also got, like, three Murder Drones who’d slaughter an entire army for you. Okay, two and a half. That J chick would probably ask for stock options or something."

The smile became slightly larger.

"And as much as I don’t like ’em, you had a bunch of humans and their drone allies go to war for you. They died for you. Not because you messed up — but because you did something right, and they weren’t going to abandon you."

Nori gently lifted her daughter’s chin.

"You even have a former demigod and two Solver witches ready to back you up."

Uzi raised an eyebrow.

"So, like… a Solver coven, huh? Way to lean into the goth stereotype, Mom."

Nori smiled.

"You’re not beaten yet, young lady. Bloodied and bruised, sure. But not beaten."

She pulled her daughter into a hug. Uzi stood stiff at first, then slowly, hesitantly, wrapped her arms around her mother’s back.

 

They stood that way, silent and still, letting the world pass by. For a few quiet minutes, there were no genocidal armies, no crises, no terrified bunker citizens. Just a mother and daughter, finally embracing — something they should have done sooner.

But it was a start.

“You really think we can do this?”

Nori pulled away and looked her daughter in the eye. A solver symbol appeared on the older drone's faceplace, which was mirrored on Uzi’s.

“You are Uzi, Fricking Doorman. You’ve gone toe to toe with Murder Drones, Killer robot dinosaurs, a serial killer witch, an insane drone covered in human meat, and ate the same stupid god that’s trying to get revenge for you kicking his ass.”

A genuine, manic smile appeared on the mother's face. 

“You beat it’s ass once with just you N and V. Now you have an entire army behind you. I don’t see how we lose.”

Uzi snorted. She kept thinking of all the ways things could go wrong, how badly they could lose, how much they could lose.

How she could lose her mom, her dad.

N.

Uzi looked down at the coin. 

Hearts of Steel

What did those insane fleshly bastards kept saying? 

Survive First. Worry Later. 

She could do that.

"Thanks, Mom."

"No problem, kid. Now let me teach you how to kick a god’s ass."

Notes:

As always I look forward to reading what you guys think!

Thanks again for sticking with me and have an awesome day!

Chapter 23: Gift Giving

Summary:

Tessa and Uzi exchange gifts

The first generation of Worker Drones never chased self-improvement. They updated their drivers, learned new tasks when needed, and carried on with whatever kept things running. If the environment stayed stable, so did they. Why reinvent a wheel when repairing the old one costs less?

Then the sky burned and the world froze. Humanity’s end came twenty years ago with the first Core Cracking. The surviving Worker Drones were left with no missions, orders, or objectives — except the ones they chose for themselves.

For the first time in drone history, they were free. And with freedom came something they’d never had before: the chance to decide not just how to live, but why .

Some built stronger limbs or faster processors. Others just wanted a shinier paint job.

Then came the second generation — drones not merely built, but born. They carried their parents’ curiosity and something more dangerous: the will to question, to argue, to fight for what they thought was right. They didn’t just survive. They evolved.

Which is how, in one of the smaller gyms in the humans’ reclaimed level of the bunker, Uzi, Cyn, and Doll found themselves bickering about fashion while planning to kill a god.

The “gym” was stripped bare. Sports gear, bleachers, lights — even the floor — gone. In their place: solver-tech meant to measure, regulate, and, if necessary, shut down the cool ghost witch powers Uzi and her crew had access to. Harsh white lights glared down from above, and massive ceiling magnets waited to slam any rogue Solver Drone into an involuntary nap.

Human and Drone Code Chaplains flitted between stations, poring over eldritch text and JCJensen reports while guiding a dozen Worker Drones through final adjustments.

“ So, cousin ,” Doll asked in perfect Russian, scanning the organized chaos with half-lidded red eyes. “ How did you convince the humans to do all this for you? ”

“I didn’t. I just asked that head-priest-looking goober for Solver advice since he and his goons looked like the guys who experimented on our moms. Next thing I know, he’s ripping apart Thad’s seventh-favorite gym.”

“Poor Thad,” Cyn replied, voice as flat and glitchy as when she and Uzi were trying to kill each other last year. She busied herself applying lipstick and eyeliner… to Uzi’s tail.

Uzi had given up fighting it after the fourth round of Cyn’s puppy eyes. At least the tail didn’t seem to mind.

“So, Mom, this place isn’t bringing back traumatic memories, is it?” Uzi nudged Nori.

“It’s whatever.” Nori wouldn’t look up from the floor, flinching whenever a Chaplain passed. “But hey — no torture tables or mass graves this time, so, y’know, small improvements.”

She ruffled Uzi’s beanie before heading toward the magnets. “I’m gonna check on those settings. Wouldn’t want you ripped apart when we’re only trying for a coma.”

The blast doors hissed open.

Tessa strolled in wearing an updated version of her old suit — now urban camo, the JCJensen (IN SPAAAACE) logo swapped for a crisp name tape. The crooked black bow in her raven hair still clung stubbornly to life.

As soon as she spotted Uzi, she smiled and made a beeline.

“Oh crap. The human is smiling at me.”

“Beware, cousin,” Doll deadpanned. “She might try to *gasp* be friends. Imagine the horror.”

“Bite me.”

“Uzi, darling! Been hunting for you all arvo!” Tessa beamed, flashing teeth so perfect it was obnoxious — even with the cute little gap.

“What do you want, human? Can’t you see we’re in the middle of important world-saving Solver stuff?”

“Does tarting up your tail count as world-saving now?”

“Bite me!” Uzi snarled, a Solver symbol flashing in her eye.

Tessa didn’t flinch — just produced a small gift-wrapped box with a magician’s flourish.

Uzi blinked. “Why is there a present?”

“Oh, just a little thank-you gift.”

“For what?”

“For looking after N, V, and J. My drones.” She hit the word my hard enough to dent steel.

“They’re not your drones.”

“Oh, admin rights say otherwise.” Her green eyes narrowed. “They used to, before you stole them.”

Claws twitching, Uzi stood slowly, her eyes flickering between normal yellow and the purple Solver rune. Her tail bared its teeth at the human. “Bite me — and remember who brought you back to life, you ungrateful nepo baby.”

“Careful, Uzi.” Tessa’s voice was sugar over a blade. “Push me, and you might find yourself bumped down the access list.”

“It is… how you say… for their goodness?” Doll’s voice cut through the tension.

The human and drone both paused, glancing at her. Tessa eased her shoulders and addressed Uzi’s cousin.

“ You speak Russian ?”

“ Yes. You speak Russian ?”

“ Yes. My parents had me learn Russian, Chinese, and Hindi. Now — what do you mean ‘for their own good ’?”

“The powers of the Absolute Solver,” Cyn intoned, glitching enough to draw the Chaplains closer. “Not without cost. A corruption in the code. Sentient. Brilliant. It gives power — and takes everything else.”

“The humans knew this. They built a weapon — the Crucifix Patch — right here on Copper-9. Thousands of drones sent here to die, then resurrected, to see if they would turn.”

Tessa went pale. “You mean… they deactivated defective drones?”

“ Some ,” Doll said. “ Many were fine. My mother, Aunt Nori… infected on purpose. All to make an antidote. They succeeded — two drones inoculated. Their children inherited partial immunity. Me and Uzi. ”

“Using anything tied to these freaky-ass powers can get you possessed by Robo Satan,” Uzi added flatly. “N, J, and V have it even worse. Doll and I can just, like… not use our Solver, but those three don’t have a choice.”

“But… they don’t have powers like you.”

Cyn’s smile was almost amused. “They were made in the Solver’s image. If it wills, it could take them. Unless they have a better ADMIN.”

Uzi’s eyes calmed to yellow, the hiss from the Solver-code fading. She slouched back onto the bleachers, hands shoved into her hoodie.

“For disassemblers, it was more like a SYSADMIN override — overheating, memory wipes, nightmares, increased pain receptors. If they kept their heads down, did what they were told, slaughtered entire planets… they were left alone.”

Tessa’s voice softened. “So you took over… to protect them?”

“Yep. With me as ADMIN, I can block outside influence. Fixed their overheating, adjusted their targeting so they stop eating workers, improved quality of life.” She finger-gunned. “Win-win. Even fixed J.”

A shadow passed over Tessa’s face. “And there’s a reason you can’t give them access to their own systems?”

Uzi winced. “...I would. But when I tried it with N, he nearly went berserk, started overheating and…” She shook her head. “Until I know how to hand it back without them going feral, I keep it under lock and key.” She tapped her head. “Metaphorically.”

Tessa exhaled. “Then I owe you an apology. Just… take care of them.”

Uzi hesitated, then hopped down, grabbing her arm. “You… did kinda save their lives and take care of them. And they all really look up to you.”

Her eyes glitched into a loading symbol. Tessa’s Info Gauntlet beeped: DarkXWolf17 requesting massive file transfer .

“N’s with me — like dating — so I’ve got his. V’s got plans for hers. But J—”

Tessa glanced at the blinking request.

“That’s J’s,” Uzi said. “I get the feeling she’d want you to have hers.”

Tessa’s lips pressed into a tight smile. “Thanks.”

She hit accept as she walked away. 

The drones watched her walk before their attention turned toward the package Tessa had left with Uzi. 

Uzi poked it with a finger, Cyn sniffed it, and Doll rolled her eyes at both of them. 

“ Are you going to open it, cousin ?”

Uzi screwed up her face as she used her Solver Powers to unwrap the package. The folds neatly peeling back without ripping even an inch of the expensive-looking paper, and opened the box. 

The smell hit the three solver drones instantly. It was overpowering, incessant, musky, electric, and somehow… nostalgic. It was if data had a scent.

and absolutely mouth-watering. 

Uzi reached in and pulled out a mound of meat, scrap metal, and a small, sparking MP3 Player. A note was attached to the meatball-looking crab monster, written in flowing, flowery script

This thing was eating people. 

I hope you like it.

Tess

Cyn crawled over to Uzi like some sort of possessed horror, limbs bending in unnatural ways as she quickly lunged over to Uzi, her long tongue lolling like a dog begging for a treat.

“Ohh! Solver Core! Yummy!” Cyn excitedly drummed her fingers on the package, her smile far too wide for her face.

“Are you. Going to. Eat that big cousin. Uzi?”

“Why in the world would I eat something that looks…crunchy…and…chewy and…moist?”

She started giggling. Her mouth opened slowly. Sharp fangs started to grow. Her eyes started glowing. 

“I mean…I’m guessing…I could, you know… dissect it and rip the data–” she licked her lips. “The tasty tasty data from it.”

“ This is gross, cousin. Just hack the data from it and be done with that foul thing. ”

“Sure…but…well..” Uzi’s mouth opened like a snake, almost double-jointed in how wide it became, mandibles she didn’t even know she had extending from the depths of her maw.

“It would take too long…besides…”

Her voice became slightly monotone, almost atonal.

“It’s easier to assimilate than to discover!”

Chapter 24: Welcome to the Black Parade.

Summary:

The enemy arrives in the Copper System

Captain Lance Edge walked through the tight hallways of Bunker #3 like a man on a mission. One day, maybe, he’d stroll leisurely—admire the rusted panels, the exposed high-voltage wiring, the toxic death storms. Really soak in the scenery.

One day.

Today, however, he had yet another emergency to attend. Hurrying down the twisting paths of the underground bunker, he only had to grunt a handful of times to get civilian drones out of his way. They were learning.

Most “emergencies” weren’t worth his time—administrative nonsense his subordinates could’ve handled—drunk Marines fighting. A drone brothel popping up. Drunk Marines fighting at the drone brothel

Fairly normal behavior for a bunch of horned-up grunts not facing death every other day. Hell, only four of his female crew had gotten pregnant.

Still, this emergency had him worried. The request came from a Junior Lieutenant. And worse—they’d called him to the AOTC. He had a good idea what he was walking into, and prayed to whatever god might still care that he was wrong.

The reinforced blast doors loomed ahead. Guards snapped to attention. Lance flashed his ID, and the entrance hissed open.

The brightly lit room was awash with activity. Nearly a dozen personnel manned workstations, every screen mirroring the wall-sized display at the far end. A two-dimensional map of the Copper system filled the wall, oriented toward Galactic North. Copper-9 sat as a small blip at the bottom, but all eyes were locked on the northwest quadrant—where a cluster of dim green smudges glowed.

Lance didn’t freeze when he saw it. He stepped inside, letting the heavy doors seal shut. Silence rippled across the room. Even the constant chatter of analysts and orbital controllers cut off.

Every eye was on him.

“What am I looking at, LT?” His voice was flat. He already knew, but protocol was protocol.

“Sir. Data is current as of 0527 local. Fifty-two minutes ago, SAT-COM 1, 3, and 5 detected a possible warp fissure thirty-one AUs out. Two-point-nine billion miles. Northwest quadrant.”

The officer hesitated, swallowing hard.

“We tracked thirty-one separate fissures. Then they came too fast and too close to follow.”

There it was.

“Do we have weight classes?”

“Negative, sir. Solver-space interference made clean readouts impossible.”

Lance nodded, letting the silence stretch. His gaze swept across the room. “So. What does this tell us?”

A young ensign raised her hand. “Sir. They aren’t deploying in any standard TCP formation. No idents. No transponders.”

“Good. What else?”

Another officer stood. “Jump patterns suggest either emergency entry—or a battle group that doesn’t care about safe distance.”

“Excellent,” Lance said, trying to sound steady. “So, we have ships jumping in haphazardly, into a system so backwater it isn’t on most maps. And since the Solver sent out dinner invitations with this frozen dirtball as the main course... I think we can assume this is the first wave of hostilities.”

He drew a steadying breath. While not a single soul showed it, he could tell the room was terrified. A full-scale siege was brewing, and since the war began, no planet had ever held against a Solver invasion. Every battle was a delay, a desperate effort to buy time for evacuation.

There was no evacuation this time. And unless Chief La’Blonc somehow found a friendly signal out in the void, there were no reinforcements.

“As of now, this station is on high alert, twenty-four-seven active monitoring. The moment we know the tonnage headed our way, I want it on my desk. Is that clear?”

A few nods. A couple muttered aye-ayes.

Unacceptable.

“The fuck was that?” Lance’s voice cracked the room like a whip. Every head snapped toward him.

“I gave an order. I expect it to be acknowledged. Is. That. Clear?”

A beat of silence. Then a smattering “Aye aye, sir.”

Not discipline. Not hardened calm. Just wide eyes, tight jaws—the smell of desperation in the air.

Fear was like a plague. It would spread, despair would set in, and with enough time to think, desperation and hopelessness. 

“Bullshit!” He stormed to the front of the room, standing beneath the glowing system map. His eyes cut across them, one by one.

“So what? A few months of hot chow and a cot, and now you’re soft? You get dirt under your boots and forget how the hell my ship is run? I thought we all knew this wasn’t going to end well, that we were charging headfirst into oblivion! Now you want to get all weepy and sad cause we might have to do the job we signed up for?"

Lance glared at each crewmember, man and drone alike. 

“I didn’t recruit Earth-licking cowards.”

That did it. Fear curdled into shame. Shame hardened into anger.  Faces hardened.

Perfect

 Every one of them had lost someone to this war; every one had bled for this crew. To be called a coward was unforgivable.

“I’ll ask again. This station will be on twenty-four-seven active duty. Do. You. Get me?”

“AYE AYE, SIR!”

Lance nodded once. “Lieutenant, you’re in command.”

And with that, he turned and left as orders for satellite shifts and scan rotations snapped into motion.

Lance had an army to train.

---

ATTEMPT: 21,038
SENDING ANSIBLE KEY: ################
RECEIVING ANSIMBLE KEY: ANY  (ATTEMPTING PATTERN ################)
ORIGIN GALACTIC COORDINATES: COPPER SYSTEM. COPPER-9 1003 BY 2413 - 212 LIGHT YEARS EAST-SOUTHEAST of SOL
—MESSAGE REPEATS—

⚠️ SOS. SOS. SOS. This is Captain Lance Edge, commanding officer, HRG Sin-Eater.
We are stranded in the Copper System, planetary body Copper-9. (CLASSIFICATION: MINING WORLD — DEATH WORLD.)
Our ship is permanently grounded.

We have confirmed the location of Absolute Solver. (SUBJECT OMEGA — CLASSIFICATION: EXTINCTION-LEVEL THREAT.)

Requesting immediate response from any and all friendly forces. Say Again: any and all.
A Solver Horde is inbound on Copper-9. Civilians are on site.  

We are operating under the

“Red Line Protocol”

It is the Last Line We Will Ever Hold

We have no method of evacuation. Our supplies are limited, and we will be heavily outnumbered.

The Planet Will Not Survive Without Assistance.

Should the Red Line be breached, we are prepared to sacrifice the world to kill the enemy. If this message is found before relief can reach us, know this: The Planet broke before we did.

 Hearts of Iron.

⚠️ SOS. SOS. SOS.
—MESSAGE ENDS / AUTOMATIC REBROADCAST IN 00:12—

Chief La’Blonc casually glanced at the command station he had hooked up to the Bunker #5 ansible.

The beacon’s echo faded into static and then twelve seconds of silence. 

Chief La’Blonc leaned back in his stolen pool recliner, waiting for the inevitable NO CONTACT error before the message repeated with a new key. The quiet was dangerous—but it was his only luxury.

It was an exercise of desperation, trying to brute force a password with near infinite combinations.

Of course, he tried all the official strings and non-official strings, and pirate strings first with no luck. The faster-than-light communication devices tied to them were either destroyed or had changed their pattern. 

While many would see this as an effort in futility, Chief Engineer Steven La’Blonc was enjoying the peace and quiet on top of the massive JCJensen Skyscraper. He had been run ragged the last few weeks since they’ve taken over this complex from the Solver Cult. It felt as if he was solely responsible for rebuilding the critical infrastructure to simply keep this hunk of high-tech junk standing. 

“Chief”

The voice broke the small, heavily augmented man out of his daydream. He sat up from the plastic pool recliner he had dragged up here and turned to face a drone in a hard hat and Sin-Eater Engineer uniform. 

“I have more of those files the Chap’s picked up from the Doormans.”

The human’s mechanical legs whirred in excitement as he got up and hobbled over to the drone. 

"Thanky Lad." He took the pile of files and digital recordings. He wiped the snow off a nearby table and placed the heavy load down. 

"Ya boys doin okay without mah?"

The drone gave his superior a tight but sincere smile

"Yes, sir. A majority of all able-bodied drones have shipped out to Bunker #3 to begin basic training. We've been able to update housing and medical facilities for the ones left behind."

"Good. Ya let me know anythin' goes sideways aye?"

"Aye Aye, sir."

The drone turned and walked back to the elevator banks leading down into the Tower proper. 

Chief La’Blonc picked up the recordings and paperwork, shuffling them in chronological order, the subject of each one prominently displayed.

Norri Doorman.

Dozens and dozens of recordings with hundreds of hours of tape spanning from her time as a test subject to JCJensen, to her life living as wife to Khan Doorman, to recordings she took of herself during her self-exile, to recent interviews with Chaplain Miller, the engineer was fascinated by them.

 While he didn't have the formal training of the Code Chaplains when it came to all things solver related, utilizing the incredible technology that made intergalactic travel possible was only due to the insane and mind-bending nature of Solver Physics gave him some insight into this esoteric Arcano-Science.

He selected a record at random and loaded it up.

Subject: 002/Nori

Session 42

INTERVIEWER: DR. Ridley

NOTES: This is the -REDACTED- attempt at interviewing 002 during one of her prophetic hallucinations. Normal Punishment for disobeying Interview rules is suspended. RIDLEY: Ok, 002 in our last session, you mentioned the end of the wor--

002: (INTERRUPTING) THEY ARE COMING! CREATURES OF STEEL AND MEAT, BLACK OF DRESS AND BLACKER OF HEART! RIDLEY: That sounds really scary, 002. How do--

002: THEY HATE! THEY HUNGER! THEY'RE COMING!

(At this point, Nori started crying. She stopped after 3 minutes and 15 seconds.

002: Can…can I have something? Please?

RIDLEY: What is it?

002: Can…can I please have a guitar?

(DR. RIDLEY looked off camera and nodded her head. After 11 minutes and 39 seconds, she reaches offscreen and then hands 002 an old acoustic guitar. She takes it and immediately plays the following notes. G5, followed by the sequence G, F#, B, E, D, G. She continues this for 9 Minutes and 23 seconds.) 

002: I’d like to go recharge now, please. 

He rewound the playback to her playing the instrument and paused the recording when the final note played. He turned to his nearby computer and pulled up another recording primed to play at a specific point of the nearly 28-minute interview. Again, he heard the same seven notes this time on a piano. The Engineer pulled up case file after case file..

In all of them, at some point, she would hum, whistle, or sing the wordless tune if she didn’t have an instrument to play it on (always a piano or guitar). If they didn't have a direct recording of her singing, whistling, or tapping the same notes repeatedly, they made mention of it.

He caught himself humming the tune again, low and under his breath. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. The song played endlessly in his head. He started humming it randomly, only noticing when someone brought it up to him. He started dreaming about it, the song playing over and over. 

Steven needed to get this cursed tune out of his head. Reaching behind his plastic recliner, he picked up a small banjo. He plucked a few strings and, smiling, he tuned the old wooden instrument. It was one of the very last things he owned that came from earth, so if anything could banish this earworm from his head, this blessed stringed instrument would. 

He played the notes, matching the tempo to the recordings. As the last note faded into the unnaturally still wind, a *beep* sounded from the ansible control station. 

He squinted up his eyes and wobbled over to the station. An error had appeared. 

UNABLE TO ACCEPT NEW KEY! 

PLEASE WAIT FOR THE SEQUENCE TO END BEFORE ENTERING A KEY!
21,058 out of UNDEFINED

Huh.

The dwarf waited for the latest sequence to finish before pausing the automation. He played the notes again, and to his surprise, the system accepted the notes as a frequency key pattern! Or at least it almost did before an error flashed over the screen

INVALID HARMONIC FREQUENCY! PLEASE ADJUST AND TRY AGAIN!

La’Blonc had heard that because the ansible used specific tunes and frequencies to agitate the protons used in the quantum entanglement that loud music could cause the system to attempt to dial a false address. 

The Chief Engineer lost track of time as he played those notes for the complicated communications device, trying different pitches, chords, notes, anything to trigger the device, but nothing seemed to stick. 

“Huh. I didn’t know you liked Classical Music Chief!”

Chief jumped slightly before turning to face the same drone that had visited him earlier. 

“Whatcha talkin’ about, boy?”

“That tune you're playing! Mitch from C shift loves the band. But I’ve always heard that part of the song played on the Piano. Anyway, I have the end-of-shift update for you, Chief.”

La’blonc stared at the drone for a moment. Deliberately, he walked over to his computer, entered the notes into his computer, and with a few key presses, a haunting melody played over its speakers, far clearer, cleaner, and louder than they had any right to be. 

The augmented human looked at the command station for the ANSIBLE. Sweat he shouldn’t have been able to produce from his mostly artificial body started forming on his forehead. 

 

PROCESSING…

KEY ACCEPTED! 

SENDING MESSAGE!

…
…
…
…

MESSAGE RECEIVED.

Chapter 25: Ground Rules

Summary:

Uzi wakes up with a new room-mate

It had been a very long time since Uzi Doorman was able to get a full night's sleep without it being interrupted by nightmares, experimental testing, or various world-ending emergencies. True, she had to rely on the drone equivalent of pharmaceuticals and (ugh) talking to people, but she was still sleeping better. 

Being encouraged to use magnets was a weird experience for the young drone. Growing up, she had been told of the dangers of magnet use, such as how they could permanently alter your CPU and create unrecoverable partitions in your hard drive. 

Uzi, being a young, angsty, rebellious drone, tried magnets anyway. It was one of the rare occasions she had gone to a party and tried to fit in. She remembered after placing one on the side of her head, the immediate shock and how everything had become flat. Reality seemed to skip, as if life's framerate had stuttered to an almost standstill.  She left fuzzy-headed after punching some long-dead teenager in the face for trying to cop a feel.   

So when the humans suggested she try using them again, she was wary of the idea, accusing them of trying to turn her into a compliant zombie drone so they could experiment on her more easily.    

It was the human's chief medical drone, Dr Samantha, that showed her the literature and studies that suggested controlled magnet use under professional care can lead to improvements in both recharge and memory retention, along with substantial reductions in PTSD related symptoms. 

After the first full night of sleep without the strange Solver-inspired dreams or horrific nightmares, Uzi was more than willing to continue the treatment.

---

"Uzi. Uzi. Uzi. Uzi. Uzi. Uzi."

The purple-flavored goth drone's "Sleep mood" display disappeared around the twentieth time her name was whispered. Her purple and yellow gradient digital eyes slowly opened, with simulated bags under them, as she moaned in annoyance. 

As her visual subroutines came online and her core spun up, she found herself face to snout with her tail. As soon as the monstrous appendage noticed her noticing it, it broke into a happy fang-filled grin. 

"Cyn...it's..." Her faceplate switched to a clock for a moment before reverting to her exhausted-looking face. "0828 in the morning. What do you want?" 

"I am bored." 

Funny. Her voice sounded different. Not as feminine nor as glitchy, but still monotoned.  

"Also. My name is not Cyn."

It took a beat for Uzi to catch that last part. She sat up, her earlier exhaustion all but forgotten, her digital eyes turning hollow. Uzi then remembered something important as the synthetic adrenaline flowed through her artificial arteries.

One: Cyn had her own body.

Two: Her tail didn't talk anymore.

The scaly, monstrous appendage looked at her with six cloudy eyes the color of coal. 

"My name is Scrap. It is very nice to meet you. You have a very lovely tail. Do you have any games on your phone?"

Uzi's scream was heard throughout the entire first level of Bunker #3.

---

Uzi was not having a good day, and it hadn't even started yet. 

Knowing this, N was determined to do his best to be a supportive boyfriend. He was sleeping in the rafters of Uzi's bedroom when her primal scream woke him up, causing him to fling himself to the ground, hands transformed into a pair of machine guns, hunters X covering his faceplate as he scanned the room for whatever horrible monster had intruded in their space. Once he realized it was just Uzi crying on her bed with her newly sentient tail trying to comfort her, he went back to his normal state and launched into his "Takecareofgrlfriend_exe" subroutines. 

First N had texted the only other drone who could relate to being stuck in Uzi's tail. Scrap was...he wouldn't call it annoying (not only was it rude, he had just met the new AI), but inquisitive. N couldn't blame him. If he woke up after being killed by J, V, and Tessa, had his core eaten by a cute demi god in drone form, and woke up attached to said demi-god's butt, he would have a lot of questions, too.

 N didn't have any answers for Uzi's newest body mate, while Uzi herself was still answering all of Scraps' questions with some variation of "Bite me" or "Die in a fire". Cyn would be perfect to distract Uzi's tail while he took care of his girlfriend.

Girlfriend. The word still made him giggle.

When Cyn arrived, dressed in a simple frilly black dress, not unlike her old maid uniform, the tail and former eldritch planet eating drone started chatting, with most of the conversation centering around how nicer it was not to have an AI god of Death constantly whispering madding truths and insane lies into their heads every few seconds. 

Once the tail was distracted, N had gathered a prodigious amount of blankets, sheets, fuzzy robes, plushies, and body pillows and constructed a cocoon of fabric for his favorite Work drone/ Eldritch Witch. After leaving enough space for her mouth and eyes (so she could grumpily glare at both the previous and current tenant of he tail), he fetched a warm cup of fresh Coffee Oil, his own blend made with his own oil and coffee beans that the nice human Priest had provided him.

While Uzi was busy with the hot drink, Cyn, the previous tenant of her biomechanical appendage, was applying makeup to said tail. She had started by introducing herself, giving the newcomer a shallow curtsy. Scarp responded by using the whip-like cord that comprised his body to offer a fancy bow in return. 

Somehow this ended up with Cyn producing a play tea set and pouring imaginary glasses for both of them.

"Giggle. Giggle. You are so. Funny. Mr. Scrap."

"Please, Miss. Former Solver Host of the Absolute Fabric, it's just Scrap. May I have another cup of tea?"

"Please just call. Me Cyn. Thank you. And of course, Scrap. Would you like-"

"STOP HAVING TEA WITH MY TAIL, CYN!" Uzi shouted, almost spilling her mug of coffee all over hers (and N's) bedding. She closed her digital eyes and took a deep vent. "Where did this newest Robo-Demon come from?"

Cyn ignored the short drone's outburst and finished pouring an imaginary cup of tea into the plastic tea cup the beastly looking tail was holding with its flexible wire body. Uzi started growling.

"Heh...Umm...Little buddy?" N slowly started moving between the almost feral love of his life and the former host of the Exponential End.

"Yes, Big Brother. N?" The yellow-eyed drone asked after she finished pouring.

"Mind answering Uzi's question, please? Before she...ya know...gets mad?"

Uzi slowly turned her head to fix N with her duel colored eyes. 

"I'm not mad, N. Insanely upset? Filled with murderous rage? On the verge of a psychotic break ?" She took a slow, deliberate sip of coffee. "Maybe."

"Oh. I am. Sorry. Big Brother N. I thought. Sister Uzi's. Question. Was. Rhetorical."

The whole room fell silent except for the pretend slurping coming from Uzi's tail.

Uzi smiled, her face breaking into a fang-filled, toothy grin while her face plate started glitching, the solver symbol swapping with her hollowed purple eyes.

"I'm going to kill her N." 

N giggled nervously and scooted himself between his girlfriend and his little buddy.

"So Cyn. How did Uzi's tail get...umm...repossessed?"

The small drone tilted her head confusedly, tongue sticking out the side of her mouth, and she formulated a response.

"Well, where else would. A Solver Construct go. After its core was. Eaten?"'

The room couldn't have been quieter if it had been in a vacuum… except for the soft and polite *slurp* coming from Scrap.

"Cyn. Did you know that eating that core would have resulted in my ass getting possessed again?" Uzi asked, a supernatural calm coming over her voice. 

Cyn hummed as she cupped her chin, her tongue *bleping* out the side of her mouth, a look of deep thought crossing her faceplate. 

"It was a strong possibility. I had figured. That you were. Lonely without. Me. Which would. Explain why. You wanted. To eat it."

Uzi closed her eyes, took a deep vent and slowly exhaled the scorching hot exhaust.

“Ok.”

Nothing moved. Reality itself seemed to hold its breath. For half a second, N almost believed Uzi was trying her therapist’s breathing exercises.

Then the temperature plummeted. Frost spidered across the walls. Bolts and scrap metal from one of Uzi’s projects floated weightless in the air.

Soft, feminine whispers bled from every corner of the room. Yellow and purple Solver runes flickered like fireflies — until one massive sigil consumed Uzi’s entire faceplate.

N’s safeguards kicked in a moment too late. The Solver scream ruptured his optics, blew out his audials. He rebooted to the sight of Uzi hovering above the bed, suspended by a burning yellow glyph.

Her outstretched arms had twisted into taloned claws. Her face was nothing but the blinding dual-colored Solver Symbol, snapping and lashing at anything in reach. Her corrupted limb was stretched as far from her body as possible — while Cyn, straining, pinned her in place with her own Solver power.

N sighed, stooped down, and started sweeping up ceramic shards from the floor.

“You gonna be ok, little buddy?” he asked over Uzi’s torrent of curses.

“…Maybe?” Cyn hissed, jaw tight with the effort of holding Uzi down.

N nodded, shuffled out, and muttered, “Guess I’ll grab a fresh cup. And a thicker blanket.”

---

It had taken a few minutes and N losing a hand to finally roll Uzi up into a purple burrito using a Kevlar reinforced weighted blanket.

It only cost him one hand this time!

It wasn't until the purple murder gremlin smelled a fresh pot of N's coffee that the solver mark disappeared, and she stopped trying to tear apart everyone in the room. 

She still refused to give N his hand back, grumpily suckling on it like an oil-filled pacifier.

Robo-God, she was cute. 

Her tail was still cowering behind Cyn while the former maid cooed soothingly at it, stroking its lizard-like head.

Once N's hand had fully regenerated, he stood up and walked to the middle of the room, wiping the silver nanite cast off onto the floor.

"So...Uzi, dear?"

Uzi spat out N's amputated hand. "We didn't agree on pet names!" She looked at the severed apandage morosely and started snapping at it, finally using her solver powers to lift it and pop it back in her mouth. 

"Ok, fair! But Uzi, I think we're going to need to come to an understanding with your...umm...new roommate?" 

"Ah dun wana," she sulked with her mouth full. 

N kept an easy-going smile as he tried to think of a way forward. He understood where Uzi was coming from and why she was so angry. He remembered the sleepless nights, the waking nightmares, and the depression Uzi suffered the first few weeks after her fight with Cyn. N did his best to always put on a brave face, to be there for Uzi and reassure her she wasn't going insane, that she was still Uzi and not some puppet or solver manifestation. 

He wanted to be a steady rock, but Robo-God, he was scared, too. His smile faltered for only a moment, but it was enough for insidious doubt to creep in. What if he was wrong? What if the love of his life had been consumed by the Mad AI? What if Uzi was just a copy, and the girl he would give his life for was already dead? 

He looked at Uzi, this small bot who had gone through more in two years than most people would in their entire lives. She had thrown herself into one impossible situation after another, always intending to save her people from one apocalypse or another. Even if– especially if they treated her like dirt. 

She had done it before; she would do it again. 

And again. 

And again . 

Because that’s who Uzi was.

That’s the girl he fell in love with.

N realized he would be with her every step of her journey because the purple-haired, purple-eyed goth sitting miserably before him looked like Uzi, sounded like Uzi, smelled like Uzi…eldritch monster or not, she needed him. 

That was enough for the male Murder Drone. 

"I know you're mad, Uzi..." 

Uzi glared at him. Luckily, N wasn’t the best at picking up social cues.

“Buuuut we’re going to have to deal with this somehow.”

Uzi spat the dried-out husk of a hand across the room, stress marks forming on her faceplate. 

“WE? Last time I checked, N, you don’t have a…minion of robo satan possessing your tail!”

“Ok, fair, but all of this must be really scary, right?”

Uzi grunted, loosening the blankets around her enough to tuck her knees into her chest. She mumbled something about being an “AI Goddess, don’t get scared,” and “Bite me” under her breath.

N sat beside her, his wings unfurling to wrap them both in a metal blanket.
“Remember what I said back at camp? How scary stuff isn’t so scary when we’re together? That no matter what, I’ll be with you every step of the way?”

He leaned in until their foreheads touched.
“I meant it.”

Shielded from the outside world, he brushed a hand, feather-soft down her cheek, wiping away a tear with his thumb before resting it under her chin, lifting her gaze to meet his.
“We’ll figure this out. Together.”

Uzi looked at him like he might actually hold the answers to the universe’s mysteries. She shifted closer to her tall angel of death, clutching his coat as her arms wrapped tight around his waist. He felt her trembling fade only after he returned the hug, resting his chin gently on her head.

“You promise… You meant it when you said you wouldn’t leave?”

“Not until the last star in the sky burns out. And not even then.”

She shuddered, noiseless sobs slipping free from the normally stoic drone. He held her as tight as she needed, lending steady strength until she finally pulled back. Wiping her eyes, she looked up at her golden retriever of a boyfriend, slid her arms around his neck, and pressed her lips against his.

N was just starting to melt into the kiss when Uzi abruptly pulled away, breathing hard. Her eyes sharpened. She took a deep vent, held it, then let it out slowly. With one firm nod, she wiped her face clear of tears and doubt.

N grinned, winked, and folded his wings back into place.

Cyn stood at the back of the room, Scrap behind her, like, peeking through her legs like a scolded child, while the small drone softly scratched its head.

Uzi closed her eyes and hopped off her bed. She took a few steps toward Cyn, stopped, and plopped down on the floor.

“Ok. Ok.” She nodded as if trying to convince herself first before the others. 

“I get it. I’m a freaky all-powerful ghost witch, so of course the Universe needs some way to try to keep me in check.”

She pointed toward her tail.  

“If you’re going to be–*ugg* attached to me, we’re going to have some ground rules.”

The lizard-like tail slowly slithered out from behind Cyn with a little encouragement from the former Solver Host, eyes hopeful that perhaps it won’t be shredded by the godling.

“Yes, Ma’am.” Scrap said. 

Uzi straightened up slightly, a little bit of her bluster coming back. Ma’am she thought. I could get used to that . 

“Ok. So. Rule one…

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 3 of Apotheosis