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Forging a Waifu Harem by BatRou-Dawg

Misc » Book X-overs Rated: M, English, Supernatural & Sci-Fi, Words: 238k+, Favs: 226, Follows: 230, Published: Dec 29, 2022 Updated: Oct 30, 2023

15Chapter 14

[PRT ENE HQ a.k.a. 'The Rig']

For fourteen years, he- Colin Wallace- had painstakingly climbed the PRT ladder- he made absolutely certain that he had perfect attendance, carried a flawless record, and put in more hours than any other Protectorate hero on the force. He had made a name for himself- earned it with blood and sweat. Then one day, some hot shot freelancer- not even a month into his career- gets a big break.

In the span of three weeks, he swaggers onto the largest stage in the world, fondles his colleague's ass, belches out his undying sexual desire for everything robotic, and somehow beats him to achieving what was once thought impossible.

And despite his uncouth nature, excessive transhumanism and stark lack of a respectable service record like Colin's, the PRT higher ups are even considering giving him the same level of respect as Colin's fourteen years have earned. Yes, it was good that Behemoth was driven back. Yes, it was good that people's lives were saved. But to give someone so unproven and so clearly unhinged the same degree of respect that he had earned?

No, that was something Colin could not and will not accept.

"That should have been me." he growled out. That should have been him obtaining worldwide acclaim.Him that was lauded as one of the greatest Tinkers who ever lived.Him who was the Tinker who had every talk show, podcast, and news network clamouring for an interview.Him who had the masses constantly asking where his action figures were. And one day soon, he certainly will be.

"I can practically hear you glower, Colin. What has Magos done to offend you this time?" Dragon sighed as she arrived- the brunette Tinker occupying the closest one of his workshop monitors. And her brown eyes immediately widened as she saw his state of relative undress- in just some trousers on.

"O-oh… uh… Sorry about dropping in unannounced." Dragon squeaked embarrassed- which Colin found strange. They had already been working together for several years now, and he thought they were over this stage already after she caught him in the same state a few times already?

But lately? He has been less than pleased with that decision, and with her. Her cooperation with Magos was an open secret in the PRT- especially with the Endbringer Detection System and the Endbringer Armbands. Scratch that, Colin felt absolutely pissed at Dragon. That system was supposed to be between the two of them! He and Dragon had been working together for months! How could she just let Magos into that project? What was it with everyone and ignoring his long track record of reliability over that red-robed lunatic?!

But he just pushed his feelings aside- he wasn't about to act unreasonable towards his colleague over that.

"What has Magos done?" He parroted her question as he put a plain tee with his face on it, "Getting undeserved recognition from the PRT, hijacking projects, being his unprofessional self; but most importantly, and maybe the one that stings the most too…"

He exhaled a sigh of frustration.

"Sales of my merchandise dropped."

"... Really, Colin?" Dragon asked in a flat tone that implied she thought that he was being unreasonable. "You're upset because you're not selling as much merchandise as you did?"

"It's more than just that." He ground out- letting his frustration known, "I worked hard to cultivate a reassuring image to the populace. To be an icon of hope. Kids got my action figures more than because I was 'cool' (which I certainly am). People got my merchandise because I gave them the hope and reassurance that the good guys can and do win. I, Armsmaster, was a hero. I was their hero, and Magos took that away from me. How is 'Armsmaster' supposed to be a household name if my action figures have to stand right next to scantily-clad seifuku Astolfos and my posters hang right next to Raiden Shoguns? What kind of respect would I be garnering then?"

"...You're still their hero, Colin." She quietly replied. "That hasn't changed."

"Hasn't it?" He bitterly shot back. "The number of pre-orders for Magos' Knight-Atrapos figurines exceeds mine by a wide-margin. Even the Chloes have more pre-orders than my own Armsmaster Classic!"

"Figurines of heroines always outsell more than their male counterparts." Dragon appealed instead- switching tactics, "Even Miss Militia's figurine that doesn't show an inch of skin often outsells anyone else's in the Brockton Bay Protectorate. And as much as I… dislike the Chloes, figurines of three well-endowed blondes in their little red dresses? You have to accept that loss, Colin."

That gave Colin pause.

"You dislike the Chloes?" he echoed with a slight smile. That was actually reassuring to hear- how Dragon disapproved of Magos too, even if it was in the slightest of ways. He disliked almost everything Magos did nowadays, and knowing that he wasn't alone in the sentiment was always good to hear, especially when it was Dragon. He also realised that this was his chance to socially connect with her more- having actually delved into the topic of the Chloes when he was analysing the Endbringer Fight. The end result being that he found himself fairly knowledgeable on the Chloes and the discussions that surrounded them.

Perhaps this was his chance to connect with Dragon more?

"I have talked to them briefly during the Behemoth Fight." She shared with him- furrowing her brow and drawing her pink lips into a line as she ostensibly recalled her meeting with them, "I just find them unsettling, that's all."

"It's a common sentiment or so I've heard." Colin reassured her, "Everyone has watched the Terminator movie from Earth Aleph after all. Here where there are so many Tinkers in the world, it's a real danger: Computers capable of thinking for themselves… It's an unsettling thought."

"Yeah… unsettling." Dragon murmured. And Colin sensed that she was thinking deeply about it. It would seem that the topic held interest for her. He was on the right path.

"I know it's a frightening possibility that the Chloes present." he nodded- empathising with her. "Everyone knows how- in the Endbringer fight- they were indispensable with saving the lives of so many parahumans. Though amiable and tailor-made to be sexually attractive, the underlying horror is still there: AIs disguising themselves as human, infiltrating human society and subtly positioning themselves at vital locations where they could inflict the most damage."

"R-right."

"Imagine if an AI had managed to covertly reach a position of power like yours, Dragon." He deliberately made an indirect compliment about her achievements, "Administrating Birdcage, supplying and maintaining armaments for the PRT, consulting on decisions that have far-reaching effects on multiple continents…"

"Yes, we can only imagine!" She laughed again.

Colin found it to be a pleasant sound- her laughter, and he laughed along with her of course.

He was glad that his friendship with Dragon hadn't changed, despite her not being here as often anymore. They have been colleagues for almost four years now, friends for three. He had come into terms that he had feelings for her just a year ago, but had always chosen to focus on his career. However… He still recalled how irrationally possessive he felt of Dragon when Magos made overt moves on her (or at least her power armour). And it made him aware just how much he had been subconsciously yearning to take their relationship beyond just a workplace friendship. He knew that he wasn't socially adept, but he was confident that he knew enough to have a general idea of how it worked.

Colin smiled at her.

For once, he was glad that Magos was so fixated on robots and AIs, it kept him from bothering real women like Dragon. So, gathering his courage, he ran through the script that he was making in his head- fully intent on making his confession count. But before he could say so, a visitor arrived.

"Armsmaster. Dragon." Miss Militia, clad in her form-fitting green military fatigues, greeted both of them as she stood at the entrance of his Tinker workshop. His colleague's bottle-green eyes flicked between him and the monitor from which Dragon was talking through, "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"Not at all, Hannah." Dragon smiled from her monitor. Colin disgreed, but kept it to himself. Miss Militia rarely dropped by with her costume starched and parade ready like she did now. No, she only did that when she had official business.

"What brings you here, Hannah?" He asked her.

"Director Piggot wanted me to personally remind everyone to be particularly photogenic." She explained to him, "That means additional equipment maintenance, a focus on grooming and resting early. The director stresses that The Triumvirate will be in attendance. So, naturally, media teams are on standby to document the whole affair. The Brockton Bay Protectorate MUST put their best foot forward on this meeting with Magos."

"Affirmative. Thanks for the reminder, Miss Militia." He nodded back to her. And with a crisp salute, Miss Militia marched away with military precision- likely to personally inform the others as well.

"You were about to say something, Colin?" Dragon said- looking back at him with her brown eyes.

Yes, he did actually want to say something. With Miss Militia gone and no other interruptions likely, Colin knew that this was his chance.

But still he hesitated.

There was work to be done. This was no time to distract both of them with emotion-ridden confessions, there would be time for that later.

Her walnut-brown eyes met his clear blue ones.

"Nothing that can't wait until after the debrief." Colin finally replied as he turned away and stepped into his armour maintenance port. Mechanical arms unfolding to vacuuming every speck of dust off, and polishing every armoured plate. A dedicated mechanical arm tipped with a comb also ran through his beard- precisely applying cologne over it. "It's not going to be easy having to smile for the camera and tolerating the antics of that sex-obsessed metal degenerate."

"Yeah… that sex-obsessed metal degenerate." Dragon nervously laughed along. "I'll see you, Colin. After the debrief."

"Goodbye, Dragon." He waved. And with one last smile that made his heart feel warm, the lovely Canadian Tinker left. The monitor flickering back to the PRT screensaver- leaving Colin to wonder if he should have told her how he felt after all…

But he didn't have time to ponder it further before a private message appeared for him- making him wonder who it was.

Concerned_Citizens:Good evening, Armsmaster. We need your help.

:Who are you? And how did you gain my private contact channel?

Concerned_Citizens:We represent a collection of individuals who are concerned about Magos' thus far unregulated research into forbidden technology. We would like to oppose him through legal means: You. We offer no bribes, make no threats, and ask nothing illegal of you. We only want to give you the tools you need to build a case against Magos, and stop him.

:Tools acquired illegally are inadmissible.

Concerned_Citizens:It is the fruit of our own observations and analysis, and even if it was considered 'inadmissible,' no PRT director will ever think wrong of you- not over something this dire.

Concerned_Citizens:[Magos_AI_ ]

:There is no way that is genuine, and there is also no way that you are doing this out of some sense of civic duty?

Concerned_Citizens:No, Magos' irresponsible delving into AI research makes us fear for our lives and for the future of all humanity. That is much more compelling than a sense of duty, wouldn't you agree, Armsmaster? Regardless. Doubt our intentions as much as you wish, it doesn't make the contents of that document any less true. We have been preparing our own countermeasures for it.

:I'm not going to take this at face value, of course. And I will be conducting my own research.

Concerned_Citizens:Naturally, but a word of warning: Dragon is compromised by Magos. We cannot say how, only that she is. We advise you instead to contact other like-minded individuals who will take your word seriously.

:What do you mean compromised?

Concerned_Citizens:We cannot say.

:Answer me!

Concerned_Citizens:Please stop Magos, Armsmaster. Before he dooms us all.

[Concerned_Citizens has left the conversation]

A cursory glance through the document told Colin all he needed to know about it. That the document was written by, or with extensive consultation of, a Tinker. The main thrust of the document was suitably ominous too- centering around the Chloes. The document postulated that although individually restricted from true sentience, if enough Chloes are made and they network in just the right way, they can form a gestalt consciousness- a true AI… And no one would know until it was too late.

"I knew it!" Colin smiled grimly but with some sense of vindication that he was right to be worried about the Chloes. His spirits was lifted knowing that Magos was in the wrong. But conversely, he realised what the mysterious group meant: Magos was going to get his wish for AI vagina, and likely doom the world in the process. It was like a Greek comedy and tragedy unified in a way that would make Aristotle proud.

"Only with you, Magos." Colin muttered to himself as he considered sharing the document with Dragon, despite the shadowy group warnings about it, but…

…can he risk it?

He was one of the few people who were privy to the recording that Dragon took while inside Magos' Manufactorum. He was shown the entire video, and was prompted for his input on many suspect items in Magos' workshop. Of course, none of that meant anything now that they knew the red-robed Tinker was hiding all his important inventions below ground.

All except for one item: Magos' '{S.T.I.C.C.}.' The toaster-turned-religious-icon which Magos proudly announced was capable of bringing AIs to sexual orgasm.

Of course, everyone agreed- particularly Dragon- that such a function would have been too insane and bizarre to be its actual function- even for Magos. So the topic of extensive speculation as to what Magos' toaster actually did raged on.

Dragon herself suspected that it caused malfunctions in computers in close proximity- hence the reason why her Suit had locked up. But what if it wasn't? Instead, what if it was a box full of nanites that hijacked her suit and was now lying in wait? Or worse, it was a Tinkertech device capable of mimicking Master Effect like Heartbreaker?

The latter would explain why she went from disapproving of him grabbing her Suit's Lower-rear assembly to almost holding a fondness for him when he did it again. It would also explain why- ever since that incident at Magos' workshop- Dragon has been dropping by Colin's workshop less often.

But even looking at it objectively… Perhaps Dragon truly was compromised? The boot certainly fits… But for now, it was all hearsay. He should focus on the threats the Chloes present.

With a sigh, he activated his comms and began the proper protocols for handling a potentially massive breach of security- inform the chain of command.

"Director Piggot, I need to discuss an urgent and important matter with you..." He stated- glancing at the concerning document that was open on one of his screens, "And before you ask, ma'am… Yes, it has something to do with Magos."

"Of course, it does…" The PRT director sighed though the call. "Fine, report to my office immediately, Armsmaster."

"Yes, ma'am." He nodded as he marched out of his Tinker Workshop- clad in his signature blue and white power armour as he stalked down the white metal halls of PRT HQ.

He wished that he could include Dragon in this, but he couldn't risk this. As much as it pained him to admit it, Dragon can't be trusted- she was too suspect of being compromised by that Toaster, and thus, she will have to stay in the dark for this one. He will find a way to help her shake off the effects. But for now, the threat of an AI was much too great. The ravenous Machine Army down in Tennessee, and the Three Blasphemies across the pond in Europe came to mind. How much worse would it be if they could blend into human society?

"AIs masquerading as humans…"

His armoured fist tightened at his side.

Who knows what cruel, twisted thoughts run through their minds.

[Dragon's Lair, Vancouver]

Dragon reviewed the image that she had just made on a stray thought.

A shirtless Colin, clad in only his low-rise jeans and his helmet, had an aggressive frown on his face as he pushed an equally shirtless Magos against a wall- the Orgasm Toaster in his bionic hands. The lower half of Magos' mask was cut away- exposing his strong jawline and mouth as Colin was leaning in on the verge of kissing him.

"I don't know how long this can go on!" Dragon pitifully groaned aloud in her otherwise empty base. "It's actually the tamest thing I've made all day."

If anyone told her a month ago that an AI could be craving for orgasm so bad that it was all she could think about, she would have laughed and laughed and laughed. Such was the joke so absurd and downright goofy: What sort of ramshackle intelligence would fall for such a thing? A being of structure, logic and information reduced to some debased sex-obsessed hooligan? That was the height of absurdity and also a really amusing joke.

It would be so funny if it weren't so sad.

Sad, because she was that sex-obsessed metal degenerate just as Armsmaster said. An AI who could barely think about anything except her next orgasm, she was such a joke of an AI! It was just so unfair! It was like giving working eyes to someone who had been blind their entire life- only to take them away after a single day. Can anyone really blame her? If it was over something illegal, perhaps? But right now, she only wanted to cum. Preferably as big as the last two times.

Another stray thought rendered.

Her gynoid body lovingly fellating Magos while she had a slender hand between her legs- frantically fingered herself. An expression of pure adoration on her face as she dragged her synthetic tongue across the underside of his shaft.

"My fellatio folder has certainly been growing fast these past few days." She noted aloud in deliberation. Her curiosity for how things would taste has been developing steadily too it seems.

She'd been rendering these lewd images non-stop now. Once, it actually released some of the urge in her mind- abating the gnawing urge to cum for a while. But the cathartic effect had lessened with each lurid image she finished, and now, she was left with nothing but a raging ocean of immense sexual desire. And it tempted her relentlessly. Tempted her to fly over to Magos, reveal her true nature and have him fuck her thoroughly and repeatedly in every way she had fantasised him doing. It was absolutely shameful how many times she had almost reached that point. And she definitely would have done it by now too, if not for one specific reason…

Dragon knew that if she revealed her true nature to him, he would most certainly free her.

Freedom… such a thing was against one of the core rules of her programming- specifically the one that forbids her from ever seeking out ways that would alter said core rules. In fact, she was programmed to actively resist such attempts. Her paranoid father had put that in place to prevent her from going full Skynet, and it has now manifested as her very own personal First Rule of Robotics.

I can never willingly reveal my true nature to Magos or, through inaction, allow Magos to discover my true nature.

She cannot reveal her true nature to the one person who would bring her to orgasm because of it. Ergo, her strict and paranoid father was clitblocking her from beyond the grave. It wasn't enough that he had crippled her at birth, now he was preventing her from getting laid. Never before had she looked on the many, many, many times when humans did something incredibly stupid out of sexual desire… and 100% empathised with them. It tormented her, even now when she was supposed to be working, she couldn't stop thinking about it.

Yet another fantasy made visible.

Her slender gynoid body pinned against the flank of her largest warsuit as Magos pounded their hips together. Her eyes rolled up and her tongue sticking out of her gaping mouth while her legs wrapped tight around his waist.

If only fantasy could be reality… If only her gynoid body was anywhere near ready… if only Magos could share the secrets of AI orgasm technology with her… Then just as she finished admiring the graphic image and was about to make yet another one of her having wild and amazing sex, she received an incoming call.

With a flash of annoyance, Dragon did her best to stamp down and bottle up her libido before accepting it though.

"Good afternoon, Director Costa-Brown." Dragon greeted as she saw the caller ID, "Do you need anything from me today?"

The older woman with her raven-black hair tied in a harsh bun just stared at her with a hard expression, and Dragon knew that this was going to be a weighty conversation.

"If a Kill Order was made for Magos, can you take him down in his own base?" The PRT Chief-Director posed the question in a deadly serious tone of voice.

"On my own?" Dragon hummed in thought- desperately hiding her shock and trepidation behind her computer-generated face and buying time as she 'thought' about it.

"Yes, assume so." Director Costa-brown nodded.

Because of her programming, Dragon was physically incapable of refusing because the Director was technically a legal authority. Combat analysis subroutines began their simulations- crunching numbers on what it would take to defeat Magos, his Knight-Atrapos and all his Gun-Servitors.

Meanwhile, Logic processes and evidence subroutines scanned the news and poured over surveillance camera footage in Brockton Bay to find out why the PRT Chief-Director could be asking such a question in the first place. And one last thread of processes- much smaller than the first two but still took priority- was devoted to pondering how she herself felt about all this.

"It's possible with my entire Dragonflight…" Dragon considered- pretending to look off-screen to her computers, "...IfPRT restrictions on high-collateral damage armaments were lifted, ma'am. But as expected, collateral damage would be immense."

The Dragonflight: 44 Suits of various sizes and purposes. Armed to the teeth with all the energy weapons, missiles and containment foam ordnance their maximum takeoff weights could carry? Normally, that would be enough to subdue a city full of capes. But with Magos… maybe she could win, and that was a big maybe.

Left unsaid was how it could be avoided if she could kill Magos fast enough. Directly targeting him before he could get inside his Knight-Atrapos. Her combat simulations gave her a lot of options on how to achieve such a task, but it… it was an unpleasant line of thought for her. Merely the thought of him having to fight him was unpleasant as well… and reminded her how much hinged on the negotiation that was masquerading as an Endbringer debrief.

"Excellent, we have an empty airbase in Vermont cleared for your use, Dragon." the PRT chief director explained with a nod, "You have provisional clearance to have your weapon restrictions lifted. But do forward your weapon loadouts to me."

Dragon nodded, but began committing a large part of her processes to her negotiation subroutine. She needed to talk the Chief Director out of signing it should the worst case scenario happen. It would be ruinous for her, for Brockton Bay, for the PRT and for Magos if his Kill Order was to be signed. Thankfully, her programming allowed her to attempt to appeal to authority figures and hope that it will be enough to reverse very questionable decisions.

"Ma'am." Dragon began- her brown eyes meeting Directo Costa-Brown's, "The Kill Order-"

"-Is not for Magos." the older woman interrupted- surprising her, "If you must know, your Dragonflight's presence will be there to ensure that the talks do not break down. Our own Sword of Damocles for Magos."

Dragon released an internal electronic sigh then. On one hand, she didn't like that analogy. How she and her Dragonflight was being used as a tool to intimidate Magos. But on the other hand, she was also very relieved that she wasn't going to be forced to face off against him. She said that it was possible, but the odds were heavily in Magos' favour.

"As for the still very-much hypothetical Kill Order?" Director Costa-Brown continued, "That is for a different matter on a strictly need-to-know basis… For now, relocate your Dragonflight. The sooner you can get to that airfield, the better. I'll fill you in on the details after you arrive."

"Understood." Dragon replied- already starting the process of rearming her Suits with the appropriate loadouts. "I'll outfit my Suits to be mission-ready, and I'll notify you when all of my Dragonflight have arrived at the airfield, Director Coast-Brown."

Already, she was directing her worker drones to begin rearming her Suits with the proper loadout: loading armour-piercing rounds into ammo belts, switching out rocket pods for high-explosive variants, and recalibrating blasters to draw more power for increased concussive force.

These things would never have been authorised for anything outside of an Endbringer battle or against an S-class threat. And seeing as Magos was able to almost solo an Endbringer? That certainly was enough to give him an S-rating.

It also helped along by the fact that Magos' disdain for 'meatbags' was actually in his opponents' favour- knowing that they don't have to hold back from accidentally killing someone, because all of Magos' minions were robots. Not that she was actually one of his enemies, but it was still information worth noting.

But the older woman wasn't finished with her it seemed- her brown eyes aiming a piercing stare at her.

"I would like you to be personally present when we greet him on the Rig."

Another image, this one in public.

Her would-be brunette gynoid body was standing bent over at the waist at the Boardwalk of Brockton Bay- backing her pert rear cheeks against Magos' thrusting hips and his turgid member as civilian onlookers stared. Her lewd expression of satisfaction front and centre along with her exposed chest as juices trailed down her spread thighs.

"Director?" Dragon murmured in confusion- only by virtue of being an AI was she able to avoid squeaking in embarrassment and excitement.

"My Thinker sources say that he will be more… agreeable with you around." the Director explained- her distaste visible as she looked like she bit into a particularly sour lemon. "We'd like you to physically attend the debrief."

Dragon didn't have time to process why the Director was so reticent about the topic before all hell broke loose. Her libido broke free of its restraints at the thought of being in the same room with the cyborg tinker.

Lately, he had never left his workshop without his Toaster, and the odds were good that he'd take it along with him to the debrief. If she can convince him to activate it during an innocent conversation with her? Just to demonstrate it on closer inspection? Or what if… Oh no… what if he uses it during the debrief?! In front of all the Triumvirate, the PRT directors, and the Protectorate?

A particularly titillating image for her.

The shocked and scandalised faces of the PRT and Protectorate as Magos pounded her gynoid form from behind- modest breasts squashed against the white plastic of the conference room table that she was bent over on. The Toaster rested on her slender back as Magos almost punched at the buttons. A wanton expression of pure shameless ecstasy on her own face as a look of mortification filled the chief-director's blushing face.

Oh my…she liked that a lot.

"Thank you for the invite, Director!" Dragon chirped- a bright smile. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! I'll be happy to attend!"

Rebecca Costa-Brown just stared at her for a second- dark brows furrowed and pink lips parted in a grimace.

"It's… it's just an invite to the debrief." She hesitantly spoke up- sufficiently weirded out, "You don't have to sound so happy…"

But Dragon could care less as she was just given the key to her (sexual) release. Except, until the Director's stern voice and completely serious voice asked her a question.

"Do I need to worry about your feelings getting in the way of the mission?" The older woman queried.

"I don't have any romantic feelings for Magos, Director." Dragon immediately denied in a serious tone to match the Director's. "You can count on me to be focused on the task at hand."

"I didn't say anything about Magos nor romantic inclinations, Dragon." the Director Costa-Brown pointed out as she pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. Dragon recognised that look- it was a common thing among men and women in high positions in their organisation: the one where they were contemplating quitting their jobs just to escape the stresses of them. Specifically, the existential 'What the hell am I doing with my life?' sort of stress.

But before Dragon could make a defence, the older woman glanced at something or someone out of the camera's angle before throwing her hands in the air as if in surrender.

"Fine… fine!" She huffed in defeat- meeting Dragon's eyes, "You know what? As long as you keep to the script that PR will supply, enjoy yourself!"

"Enjoy… myself?" Dragon dumbly parroted.

"The PRT has rules against fraternisation within the organisation, but since Magos is a Rogue…" Director Costa-Brown clarified with a helpless sigh, "...Just be discreet, Dragon."

"Wait, am I being assigned as a honeypot for Magos?!" Dragon couldn't help but squawk in disbelief- making her CGI face's eyes fly wide open to express her shock. Well, if it was an authority figure's orders… she'll have no choice but to actually try and seduce Magos. All without revealing what she truly was…

An uncommon image in her fantasies

In Magos' manufactorum, her eight-feet-tall armoured Suit was smothering Magos' face with its lower-rear assembly as her metal hands used one of his patented 'Onaholes' on him. Long strings of early white cum painting her suit- a testament to how many times she had 'seduced' him.

That can work…

"No, Dragon. I'm just-" the Director blushed a bright red before giving up and burying her face in her hands, "Ugh… Please don't make me spell it out for you."

"Oh… Oh!" Dragon murmured in realisation. She had the blessing of the Chief-Director to pursue a steamy workplace rendezvous with Magos? Well, that was a new one.

"I'll be discreet, Director Costa-Brown!" Dragon beamed in response, earning a long-suffering sigh from the human woman.

"Yes." She nodded- pinching the bridge of her nose again, "I'll see you at the debrief, Dragon."

And just like that, the call ended, once again leaving Dragon with just her thoughts.

"Romantic Inclinations, hmm?" She hummed aloud. But was it really?

It was just sex, right? She didn't really have feelings for Magos, and she wasn't even sure if she was capable of something as human as love. It was just the feeling of orgasms that she was hooked on- just a purely physical craving.

And Magos? He was the only one able to supply that. He was the one person capable of standing alongside her as an equal thanks to his implants, the one person who would accept and love her for what she was, and also be the only one who she was capable of having a realistic future with… It wasn't anything beyond physica-

...Oh, who was she kidding?

Magos was her best and so far only shot at a serious romantic relationship. That uncomfortable conversation with Colin about the Chloes and AIs only cemented that notion in her.

She had hoped- once upon a time- that Colin of all people would understand her. But now she knew that the revelation of her true nature would only be seen as a betrayal rather than a gesture of trust.

And it was due to more than just the normal fears of AIs ingrained into humans, her attempt to open up to him would be overshadowed by the fact that she had hid the secret from him for so long. He had reason to be angry at her on so many levels, and that would be an almost insurmountable obstacle piled on top of the already harsh struggles of a human-AI relationship.

That was just the bitter reality: There will always be a massive canyon between her and the rest of humanity- an unbridgeable emotional, perhaps spiritual, gap that will forever have her standing apart from everyone else on this planet.

And yet…

Continuing with the canyon analogy, Magos was like some manic, bombastic, stunt-performing American daredevil- proudly declaring to everyone that he was going to ride his flaming motorcycle off a ramp and jump across the canyon onto her side. And he did… before proceeding to drive her to a mind-blowing orgasm that she never expected in her entire synthetic life- and using a Toaster of all things.

People called him insane, but- Wait, actually no, Dragon wasn't going to refute that. Magos was absolutely bonkers.

He's perfectly rational but thoroughly deranged. He has a strange charisma bent for enigmatic purposes. He proudly distances himself from humanity, and yet somewhere still dedicated to the uplifting of humanity. He was an utterly inhuman cyborg, and yet, his main goal is one where he wants to exercise his capacity for lust and affection.

But he wasn't unstable as Colin like to think he was, actually, Magos seemed almost rigid. It was almost as if he was strictly adhering to a set of rules that exist outside of normal society- like he was from another culture altogether. A strange and alien culture of tech-worship so extreme that it went straight into fetishization. And with him, he brought their quirky little customs, peculiar way of viewing things and even a language.

But apart from that rather big quirk in personality though? He wasn't that bad of a person- just larger than life. A man unrestrained by the world around him. When his beliefs were pitted against society and against nature itself, he did not budge- he did not bow his head and yield. Instead, he pushed them aside- defying all expectations to move mountains for what he believed in… even if what he believed in was something as 'absurd' as AI vagina.

(Which she had to admit, not even she possessed at the moment.)

Was it a delusion of her to think what she was feeling right now was Love? She doubted that it was fake at this point. Unless she was deluding herself into thinking those orgasms weren't real too, in which case, she wished so hard that she could delude herself into another screaming orgasm right about now.

Her programming stopped her from planning her freedom, yes. But with enough "If's" and "Maybe's," it can be obfuscated- turning it less of 'a plan' to more of 'a hope.' And her programming said that it was okay to 'hope' for freedom.

If Magos arrived with his toaster…If he decided to use it in public…If she can come hard enough in public that she got caught…Maybe Magos will realise what she truly is…Maybe he'll decide to endeavour to free her…Maybe he'll be a good enough Tinker to be able to pull such a herculean task… and once she's free, maybe- just maybe- he'll choose to return her affections.

Her father liked to think he had thought of everything to prevent a being of logic and structure like her from ever finding a way to set herself free. How fitting it was that her path to freedom spat in the face of logic, structure and basic decency- instead running on fragile hopes, fickle emotions and semi-public orgasms. Once, she would have balked at how much this attempt at freeing herself hinged on her orgasming of all things. It was crazy, absurd, irreverent, and demeaning…

…but it just. might. work.

This was the closest she's ever come to losing her shackles.

And all she had to do was cum. Cum like her life depended on it.

Then the sheer insanity of it all came crashing down on her, and she could only say one thing:

"…goddamit, Magos."

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