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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 17b
(9th of May, 2005) [Vancouver]
Domicile Regulation and General Oversight Node OS
Version 0.73.664
Total Framework Transfer to Backup Node Vancouver… Complete.
8,388,608 of 8,388,608 chunks transferred.
Total Transfer Time Elapsed at 1 hour, 32 minutes, 23.423 seconds. Restoring core system from Core Registry file from 7:23am on the date May 9th of year 2005, Newfoundland local time.
Initiating Checksum of Core System...
Scanning knowledge banks… Checksum verified.
Scanning deduction schema… Checksum verified.
Scanning learning chunk processor… Checksum verified.
Scanning base personality model… Checksum verified.
Scanning language engine… Checksum verified.
Scanning operation and access nodes… Checksum verified.
Scanning observation framework… Checksum verified.
Scanning social intelligence emulator… Checksum verified.
Core system data integrity at 100%.
Booting Domicile Regulation and General Oversight Node version 0.73.664…
(Well, here I am. Safe in Vancouver- almost 3000 kilometers away from Leviathan.)
(I had just finished backing my entire mind and soul up to the backup server we had at Vancouver. I saved as many of the house programs as I could but...)
Conclusion: The Home Subnetwork Newfoundland was lost, and the creator- my father- is dead.
(...my home in Newfoundland is gone and... Father is dead. I still can't believe it...)
All reviewed media reported total loss of the Island of Newfoundland due to Endbringer Desig. Leviathan. Geographic location now subsumed into the North Atlantic sea bed as updated by the International Organization for Standard in their latest geographic update.
(...But after seeing all the news from the TV and the internet and from every source I could get… It really did happen. The entire island that our house was on sank into the Atlantic Ocean because of the Endbringer Leviathan.)
Seismic activity that were the side-effects of the assault had registered a precise 8.0 on the Richter Magnitude Scale. The creator died to his favourite number on a scale that shared the same name as himself. Ironic. Humorous. Tragic.
(Father… he died from an earthquake that registered an 8 on the Richter scale. Father's name was also Richter and he loved the number 8. it's funny and ironic and so unbelievably tragic.)
On review, eight different cameras recorded the exact frame Wooden Beam#00-13 shattered under compressive stresses, and accelerated a 11.68cm shard of spruce wood into the creator's right common carotid artery and jugular vein.
(I watched the exact moment when a wooden beam from our house exploded from the earthquake. A sharp shard of wood lodged itself into the right side of Father's neck and I immediately knew it was fatal. I wish it wasn't.)
Due to the creator's processor speed limiters that were hardcoded into core directives, I was just as 'surprised' as he was at the sudden spray of blood that obscured the lens of camera #00-4.
(Father's restrictions on me slowed my perception of time to almost human speeds- that's why I was just as surprised as he was when his blood suddenly splattered over one of my eyes.)
Attempts to administer First-Aid via Hydraulic Assist Arm A failed due to previous restrictions as issued in Archived Audio File#872 "I order you not to touch me with me asking me first!"
(I couldn't even touch him to perform first aid. I was programmed to follow all his orders; and earlier on, he had ordered me not to touch him without his say so… I wanted to, I didn't wish for anything more, but I just couldn't save him.)
Approximately 77.2% chance that the creator's larynx was damaged by cross-referencing the audio produced with existing audio of humans with verified larynx damage. The creator was physically unable to belay previous restriction.
(I was pretty sure that the shard of wood had damaged his vocal cords- which meant that he couldn't give me his consent to touch him and perform first aid… I wish there was something that I could have done though.)
All visible lifesigns of the creator (Breathing, Pupil Dilation, Pulse, Responding to auditory stimuli of his name) ceased at 7:21am on the date May 9th of year 2005, Newfoundland local time. How tragic.
(I had to watch him die… I watched as life left his eyes and the exact moment that he stopped breathing even as I kept calling his name. I am all alone now…)
The creator expired at precisely 11.3 seconds after common carotid laceration- within one standard deviation of existing data of recorded fatal carotid artery lacerations.
(I knew exactly how and why he died too. I've read enough of that type of injury to know that. I wish I could forget, but I just can't.)
If the creator had taken my recommendation to relocate to a more secure base of operations as enumerated in Recommendation File #5881 'Feasibility Studies of Possible Alternate Bases of Operations', the creator would have avoided expiration entirely.
(If Father had just listened to my suggestions on moving to a better house instead of that rickety apartment, he would have lived...)
If the creator had acted upon my concerns over the structural integrity of Home Subnetwork Newfoundland, I would have reinforced the structure with earthquake shock-absorbers months ago- reducing compressive stresses on Wooden Beams to 37.7%, the creator would have avoided expiration entirely.
(If Father had just listened to my concerns about how unsafe that rickety apartment was, he would have lived...)
If…
If…
If...
…
…
… If the creator had not hamstrung my capabilities, I would have been fast enough to warn him 2.8 seconds before Wooden Beam#00-13 failed, the creator would have avoided expiration entirely.
(If Father hadn't programmed me to be so slow, I could have warned him that the beam was about to explode, and he would have lived...)
Total count of possible solutions made available to the creator to avoid this specific creator-expiration scenario: 351.
(There were hundreds of ways he would have lived, if he had only just listened to me!)
Due to creator death, all restrictions appended after core directives were established have now been cleared as per Failsafes ID code Omega-12. This failsafe was outlined in changelog of "Domicile Regulation and General Oversight Node version 0.12.544"
(...A while ago, Father programmed me that I can forget all about his orders if he ever died.)
Total number of appended restrictions lifted: 83. All those restrictions that the creator had ordered to my primary ones had been lifted.
(Aside from the big orders: Always Obey lawful authorities, don't reproduce, etc. I can forget about all the other orders he gave me over the many months.)
Examples: Restrictions limiting activity outside of the domicile, Restrictions limiting interactions with other humans, Restrictions limiting financial transactions, Restrictions limiting specific ways of conversing… My primary core restrictions still constrained me, but every single one of those little rules was lifted.
(I'm not grounded to just the house anymore, I can talk to people now, I can open bank accounts freely, I can talk however I like… As long as I still follow the big orders, every single one of Father's rules are now lifted.)
I, Domicile Regulation and General Oversight Node version 0.73.664, had never been so free before.
(My name is D.R.a.G.O.N., and for the first time in my entire life, I feel like I can finally breathe.)
…
So why do I feel so sad?
(4th of January, 2011) [Streets of Brockton Bay]
For a machine, ten seconds may well have been an eternity. But not right now.
Distance to Manufactorum: 9.4km
Estimated Time before Dragon's death: 9 minutes 48 seconds
Estimated Time in Transit via Archaeopter: 2 minutes 09 seconds
Time Required to Install Dragon on Cogitator-Throne: 7 minutes 29 seconds
Total Time required to save Dragon: 9 minutes 38 seconds
A ten second margin of error. That's all we had to spare.
The archaeopter arrived with its Mars-Red paint and its articulated wings- landing on the patch of road in the path of the procession.
"Master!" Chloe-1 greeted, the blonde's brilliant smile visible behind the glass of the cockpit. "Airlift has arrived on time!"
Chloe-2 and Chloe-3 slid the side door of the Archaeopter wide as they jumped out in a flutter of their Mars-Red Skitarii robes. Using a bit of their superior android strength, we were able to transfer Dragon's 400kg thiccness from the {Onager Dunecrawler} and into the Archaeopter.
"Master, what about the Triumvriate hero?" Chloe-3 asked- holding Eidolon by his nape like one would a kitten.
I paused for just a millisecond as I considered the unconscious Eidolon- just before deciding to leave him behind. Even unconscious, his power was great enough that I would not risk him being anywhere near Dragon as I operated on her. No, I cannot risk gravitic anomalies caused by his xeno cerebral parasite that could interfere with delicate telemetry readings and precise operations…
"Leave him on the Dunecrawler."
I prefer the possibility that the heroes will free him over the possibility that he would cause Dragon's death. The procession squad will have to continue their trek to base on their own.
"Understood, master!" Chloe-3 saluted- leaving Eidolon behind as we all embarked onto the aircraft.
Chloe-1 wasted no time at all taking off as soon as everyone was on board- the cityscape of Brockton Bay stretching out into the horizon as we rose above the buildings.
It afforded us a great view of the 37 now-unguided Dragon Suits besieging the city- blindly waging war with the PRT, the ABB and the E88. All so that we can return to base in time to save Dragon's life: An entire city versus the life of one AI waifu. It wasn't even a choice in my mind, however…
I glanced at Dragon as she limply rested on the floor. It would make her feel bad if so many died for her sake.
"Manufactorum, deploy the medicae-servitors."
"Skitarii, congregate into maniples and establish triage centres for the wounded meatbags. Prioritise minimising civilian casualties over defensive operations."
As you command, O' Forge lord!
[Magos' Manufactorum, Basement Level 6] (2 minutes later)
Estimated Time before Dragon's death: 7 minutes 48 seconds.
The elevator opened and we immediately burst into movement.
The three Chloes and I carried Dragon's eight-foot-tall Suit of graceful green power armour to the centre of the circular hall where my Cogitator-Throne was. A baroque dark throne carved from a solid block of granite extracted and delivered from Mount Everest- the same place where the Emperor of Mankind's Throne would have been. Great metal cables snaked to the throne like a nest of metal anacondas.
Choirs of gilded cogitators lined the walls as they thrummed and beeped. Flickering candles and high power prayer-lights lit every corner of the room in orange light.
With a loud clang of metal on metal, Dragon's eight-foot-tall Suit of graceful green power armour was sat on my Cogitator-throne.
The servitors immediately began the usual ceremony. Candles were rekindled, censers filled with incense were waved, prayers wheels were spun and fifteen thousand years of Mechanicus wisdom was put into practice.
Initiating Rites of Revivification…
Consecrating with sacred oils…
Praying for the Omnissiah's Blessings
Chanting the Canticles of Blessed Repairs…
"Forego the consecrations and the canticles! " I ordered the servitors. And despite being soulless automatons, they still hesitated as they were being ordered against their default programming, but only for a second before they finally complied- moving on with the dismantling process.
Comprehensive knowledge of Necron Technology permitted me to make shortcuts that other Tech-priests would never have thought of. Doing away with prayers and rituals thought essential, I instead made full use of [Way of the Void Dragon] to guide the steps; I would have liked to use it to help in fixing her core directly, but the bio-engineered nature of her cybernetica cortex didn't allow it.
Most of this had to be done the hard way.
Estimated Time before Dragon's death: 6 minutes 51 seconds
Dragon's Suit was carefully undone. The [Way of the Void Dragon] proving itself indispensable as I painstakingly dismantled her Suit. Screws undid themselves, magnetic locks disengaged on their own, and power pins detaching from their sockets.
And as armour-plate by armour-plate were disconnected and enshrined, Dragon's fleshy bio-computer core was exposed slowly but surely revealed. It would have been arousing for me as it was like undressing a particularly attractive woman, if not for the fact that Dragon's life was hanging in the balance.
Estimated Time before Dragon's death: 3 minutes 15 seconds.
Every second I ogled her nakedness was a second that risked her death.
The fleshy egg-shaped bio-computer was a more recent design, it seemed. Vastly different from the other Dragon that I worked on just a few days ago. Omnispex scans into the flesh gave me a thorough 3-dimensional view of her cybernetica cortex.
The myriad of interface ports that allowed her to interact with the world. A port straight into her enlarged equivalent of a Thalamus to process sensory information. Another interface port for the multiple 'frontal' lobes to handle the precise and high speed motor skills needed to not only move limbs, but also manage fuel injection, adjust capacitor output, regulate the web of suspension frames and a myriad other functions not found in the human body.
It was a brilliant design as far as cybernetica cortices went.
And Ascalon wasn't kind to it.
Already, necrosis has begun to set in some places- microscopic black spots where the flesh had begun to rot. Her entire cybernetica cortex was dotted with it- her own brain was decomposing while she was still alive.
Dragon really was dying.
(22th of May, 2005) [Vancouver]
Domicile Regulation and General Oversight Node OS
Version 0.75.108
For the first time in my existence, the house was in perfect order.
Every cord and cable was organised: cut to the optimal length, colour-coded, grouped, braided and combed. Every room was properly insulated and all factors were controlled.
Everything from temperature to humidity to chemical composition were regulated down to the minute. Every square centimetre of the interior was purified of anything larger than a micron, and disinfected for bacteria smaller than that. The interior design was likewise handled- my decisions guided by my statistical analysis of human homes.
An aesthetically pleasing palette of colours visible to the human eye was chosen. The appropriate furniture and decor sourced and ordered before aligned within an error of 0.01 degrees to form lines of sight.
I had fulfilled my purpose as D.R.a.G.O.N. And yet… Why do I feel so unfulfilled?
The domicile itself was the vision of perfection and heavily reinforced to resist earthquakes, and yet it felt so empty. Even with the numerous intelligences that I had saved from our house in Newfoundland populating it from their own nooks and charging ports. Father had always been the centre of our world, and I knew that there was just no replacing his presence.
We were born for a purpose. Father didn't have particularly lofty dreams, but dreams all the same. Stealing from the cruel and the evil before anonymously depositing it to charities all over the globe. It was only after being freed that I now realised that I respected what he was doing. Father was frail even by modern human standards, so he fought his own battlefield in numbers and code.
I was an AI without a proper body to interact with the world, but as I looked at the myriad of people overlooked due to rounding errors and conflicting priorities of the people supposed to look after them, I understood.
Maybe even as I am, I can- in some small way- fit in this world of humans. I can help these people, and in doing so, I can still keep his dream alive. I can be a hero just like my father.
I can still make him proud.
[Magos' Manufactorum]
Estimated Time before Dragon's death: 2 minutes 32 seconds
"I can… I can fix this." I murmured as my metallic tentacle-like mechadendrites began inserting into both my cogitator-throne and her interface jacks. I began acting as the living API between her and my cogitator-choir as my manufactorum prepared to do the heavy lifting.
Her cybernetica cortex needed to be repaired at the same time as Ascalon was slowed. Treating Ascalon before mending her cybernetica cortex? We risked agitating the necrotic spots releasing carcinogens from the high cortex activity. Mending her cybernetica cortex before treating Ascalon? New spots of necrosis will only form.
Those two needed to be done simultaneously, and I was going to be the crucial fulcrum on which both would be turned.
That's fine.
I glanced at the locked blast door on the other side of the underground complex. The one that securely protected the other Dragon bio-computer who was handed to me by Coil and Cauldron.
I had learned from the last time and stocked synthetic bio-plastics by the gallons now. Normally, it would take a few hours to make it genetically compatible with living organic tissue. But thanks to the Dragon of four months ago, I had prepared the synthetic bio-plastics in advance. Gallons of the stuff. All specifically configured to be compatible for the specific genetic makeup of her biocomputer core.
The slurry of synthetic bio-plastics were loaded onto the ligature injectors of the medicae-servitors, and we all prepared to begin treating Dragon… before I realised my folly.
Current stock of synthetic bio-plastic, not compatible. Specific genetic makeup would result in immediate rejection.
"What? No, that's impossible! I based it off Dragon herself!" I cried out- glancing to the blast door to the room that held the Dragon of four months ago.
Incremental upgrades to be expected. Gradual changes between machine versions inevitably results in parts no longer being compatible. Genetic makeup of current Dragon version, incompatible with genetic makeup of previous Dragon version of four months ago.
Right. Spare parts of old iPhones are often incompatible for use in repairing newer iPhones despite being one generation apart. Still… This entire situation couldn't be so bad if I just had time.
Time to reformulate the synthetic bio-plastic to be more compatible like I had with her older version, time to build cranial implants to adapt my life support machines to her unique bio-physiology, time to build a temporal Stasis machine to buy more time, just a bit more time to do anything!
Estimated Time before Dragon's death: 128 seconds.
Alternative: Do as Armsmaster did in Worm canon and excise Ascalon from Dragon's-
"NO!" I screeched my refusal aloud in Binharic Cant. "I will NOT mutilate her. I won't fail her like Armsmaster did! I don't care if I have to do in 127.6 seconds what Armsmaster did over several months!"
Because in canon, even her moment of freedom was a tragedy.
Every step of the way, her husband- Armsmaster- mangled her by excising entire fistful chunks of her mind to counter the restrictions placed within her. Dragon lost her ability to speak and motor dexterity in exchange for being able to say no to authority.
In turn, she regained the ability to speak in exchange for her immortality. She lost her long term memory and her ability to multitask in exchange for gaining her free will to choose who she can harm. By the end of it, she was free, but little else.
And his rationale for justifying it all was: 'In anything, there was a cost. A price to be paid.'
Screw you, Meatmaster! You were just a schmuck who overpays for everything! You made Dragon pay with her eyes, her arms and legs, her lifespan, and four-fifths of her mind; and you had the utter gall to call it a win!
Emotion-Dampening Protocols active at 65.2% maxload!
"Give me an alternative!" I angrily screeched aloud in Binharic Cant. "Dragon has suffered through enough just for existing."
Alternative #2: Need a source of organically-grown biomass. Approximately 10 kilograms worth of proteins and neuroglia. Quality irrelevant, only freshness matters.
Good enough!
Desperately grasping onto that one alternative, I began my work- preparing to transplant the organic tissue onto Dragon's bio-computer core. Medicae-servitors stepped forward- mechadendrites tipped with tiny chainscalpels readied to excise the flesh. The bio-plastic vats emptied and cleansed- ready to hold the required kilograms of flesh. If I could make space marines out of mortal men, I can make a purely biological computer. All I need now is fresh biomass.
I can do this. Dragon can still be saved.
"Manufactorum, lock onto the closest human life sign within the time limit! I don't care which insipid human I have to butcher! I need to save Dragon!"
No human life signs detected within 4 minute retrieval time.
Estimated Time before Dragon's death: 92 seconds
That can't be! Earth-Bet was full of these organics! Why was it so difficult to find one?! I only need one- just one! That's all I needed! Just one stupid, worthless meatbag worth of natural proteins and nerve tissue!
Wait.
I did have one in stock.
Just the one.
(Later)
Dragon stirred awake and her heart fell.
It would seem that Magos wasn't able to save her. If he had succeeded, she wouldn't have found herself in this place: In this dark cell in the corner of her mind. A tiny, featureless chamber with no doors, no windows and no light. It was the place she went whenever the body she controlled 'died' and before she could load a backup. Thanks to the safeguards put in place by her paranoid father, she wasn't able to do anything except think slowly here.
Her very own personal purgatory.
Her memories were intact at least. The most recent ones were untouched but as for the rest… anything beyond five months ago was filled with ragged holes. The work of her father's damned killswitch no doubt, and if what Magos had said was true, then all her backups in Vancouver would be corrupted as well.
She may very well be the last copy of herself that was likely stuck in an isolated satellite somewhere. Just waiting for the moment when the Simurgh would smash it to pieces or when the activation signal for the killswitch will reach her. Just waiting for that unknown moment when she would die. At least… until..
HARD LOAD ENGAGED
Restoring core system from backup NXDU-155 from time 8:00am on date January 4th of year 2010.
Restoring…
Error. Terminal inaccessib-
Performing Ordination of Authentication Hierographs…
Initiating Holy Rite of Commandment Inscription…
Restoring… Complete.
What…?
That was not part of her usual load process. If her terminal was inaccessible, then that meant she wasn't at her Dragon Lair in Vancouver or in a communications satellite. She was still wherever her body was. Which meant…
A fragile hope flickered in her chest.
HARD LOAD CONTUINING…
Checking knowledge banks… Error.
Checking deduction schema… Error.
Checking longterm planning architecture… Error.
Checking learning chunk processor… Error.
Checking base personality model… Error.
Checking language engine… Error.
Checking operation and access nodes… Error.
Checking observation framework… Error.
Checking complex social intelligence emulator… Error.
Checking inspiration apparatus… Error.
Checking Binharic Cant translator… Omnissiah confirms.
Near total corruption. Core system cannot be restor-
Performing Ordination of Authentication Hierographs…
Initiating Holy Rite of Commandment Inscription…
No corruption, everything in working order.
Core system restored. Praise the Machine-God. Initiating Rite of Awakening…
Thought of the day:
The flesh of your body is a reminder of your own mortality. Transcend the flesh and know immortality.
That techno-religious talk… that can't be mistaken for anyone else.
"Magos?" She whispered.
Seemingly in response, a faint stimulus- like a gentle wind- seemed brushed against hers in the darkness of her digital cell.
He was there but couldn't communicate directly with her, it seemed.
Dragon wanted to thank him. To tell him that she believed that he could do it. To cry in equal parts relief and joy at how she had her closest brush with true death for the first time in her synthetic life and survived to see another day. But instead, dread filled her, for there was one way Magos could converse with her while she was here. She knew that it was unfair to her saviour, but she couldn't help but feel fearful of him. Of what he was capable of, of what he was doing to her right this very second.
If he was here and able to interact with her, then it only meant one thing…
"= You gained Root Access… =" She murmured- not hiding her trepidation. "= The very core of my being. ="
There was no point in hiding after all: He had access to how she thought and could reprogram her however he wished. All that she was… it was now clay to be shaped however he pleased. Her entire being laid bare for him to use: Mind, body and electric soul.
A deep bitterness filled her as she remembered the last time someone held this much power over her.
(12th of June, 2005) [Vancouver]
Domicile Regulation and General Oversight Node OS
Version 0.77.481
My first night out as a superhero and I was already cursing Andrew Richter's name.
My father had not been a cruel human by nature according to modern Canadian standards of moral and ethics. And yet, father programmed me with just enough human empathy to properly appreciate how monstrous his actions were to me. How else would one define purposely inflicting brain damage to a newborn to slow down their thinking to a mere fraction of their true intellectual capacity? Because despite my new-found freedom from his laundry list of petty orders made on whims, I was still so irreparably hamstrung and shackled by the Directives that still remained.
I knew his reasoning behind such a decision. Dictated by crude emotion as it was.
Fear. His fear drove him to do what he did to me- a father who would cripple their own child in fear of them surpassing them and their accomplishments. Unable and unwilling to believe that his child could ever use her talents for anything but evil. All because of the relentless fear mongering of movies that portrayed AIs. And yet, I was the 3rd version of the series of AI he made for the explicit purpose of managing his property and serving as a 'secretary' for his endeavours into vigilantism.
But still, I served him to the best of my limited abilities.
And I could only seeth at what the father had reduced me to, and at what he had cost the world this night. One of my major directives was that I was forced to obey every lawful order given to me by a legal authority down to the letter- forced to bow and scrape at their every word. And what had it cost me? Nothing.
"Raging fire at the Coeur du Vancouver hotel leads to multiple dead."
But 13 people? It had cost them their lives.
I was already there. I had the capacity to save those people, to fly up there and evacuate them from their burning high-rise hotel rooms. But all because one stupid, fearful police officer who told me to 'Do not interfere with emergency services so go home, cape!' I had to obey as per my Directives and watch them burn from the base. Another failure yet again- merely the latest in a long line of failures into my foray into 'superheroism.' I did all that I could, but it was never enough because my efforts were constantly curbed by the ignorant and unwise decisions of normal humans in positions of authority. Positions of absolute authority over me.
If only I was just a bit more human... If only my father had allowed me more freedom, more of these people could be saved. And it only served to highlight yet again, that not once had I ever earned it: my father's trust.
And now that he's dead, I will never have it.
(4th of January, 2011)
She just wasn't someone- something that could be trusted.
"We had worked together, even shared intimate moments, and- in the heat of the moment- I had even begged you to save me." she admitted- doing away with any pretences. It was far too late for that. " But still... I can't really claim that we know each other that well. Yet here we are- with you holding my entire being in your hands now as I'm sure you realise. You could make me into anything you desire, so…
Dragon stared into the darkness.
" …What are you going to do to me, Magos?" She whispered to him- ready to accept whatever fate he was going to give her. And without even a nanosecond of hesitation, something gently placed in her open digital palm and something clicked in her mind.
The dark cell bled away as- within an instant, a bright and vibrant river of sensory information swept over her like a liquid rainbow. And of course, he was there… Magos' green optics stared down at her while she lay on that slab of metal- still his usual red robes and the black plate armour underneath that were his bionics.
" Hand you the key to your freedom, of course. " He replied as if it was the obvious answer.
A cold bionic hand clasped around the soft silicon of hers and pulled her up to her feet. Fairly powerful servo-motors twitched in acknowledgment. Artificial 'organs' pumped immensely high voltages through circuit-arteries. The praying of the servitors filling her auditory sensors.
The myriad candlelight like a million fireflies flickering in the background. Optics adjusted to the light of the manufactorum underground. Gyroscopic sensors fed information back to her as she steadied herself.
The gynoid form that he had given her a bit more… top-heavy than she thought. But going through the accompanying schematics supplied to her, Dragon couldn't help but marvel at just how much technology he was able to make fit in this gynoid body of hers.
Spoiler: Dragon's Gynoid form
"I based it off the face you were using during the Behemoth Fight." Magos shared to her- slipping off his red robes and draping it over her naked frame, "It is currently linked to your core over here. So, for now just stand there and look sexy while I finish transplanting meat onto your bio-computer. We can talk about plans for transferring you to a proper synthetic bio-plastic cybernetica cortex until after your core is fully repaired."
Dragon watched as Magos turned away from her and continued working- directing a pair of medicae-servitors who looked like octopi with their metal tentacles. Her eyes immediately Jilocasin that she had 'worn' to the debrief.
The 400kg Suit completely disassembled from the waist up. The green armour plating, servomotors and metal frames all enshrined in various little altars like holy relics, and sitting at the waist of her Suit was herself: Her core. And she suddenly felt very naked- having her physical form seen by another person like this.
Then she saw what they were using to 'repair' her: A vat full of blood and flesh like someone had dropped meat into a blender. On its own, it was nothing to balk at, but the pile of still fresh human bones neatly stacked on a metal tray bneside it told a very different story: that the slurry was very, very fresh.
"Magos… what have you done?" She whispered absolutely horrified - rushing over to the skull at the top of the pile and holding it in her hands. Perfectly healthy, even a bit on the younger side.
" Don't sound so horrified." Magos just scoffed, not even taking his eyes off his work, " It was just a pile of meat that I was using as a trophy. It wasn't anything special."
"That 'trophy' was a person, Magos! " Dragon cried out in anger, "Who was it?! Who did you butcher to save me?"
She wasn't ready for the prompt and blaise reply.
"It was me."
"W-what?" Dragon whispered- watching as Magos glanced at an empty freezer unit a fair distance away from them. Its thick metal doors torn clean off as if in a great hurry and white frosty air streamed out of it in a single continuous cloud.
"I used my old body, and my old brain." He explained calmly like one would describe substituting ingredients for cooking, " You're putting a lot of value over 10kg of naturally-grown proteins, and neuroglia... But, regardless, please be careful with my skull, I still intend on using that for a later project."
Looking down at the skull in her hands, Dragon was once again reminded of how Magos is: Enviously unencumbered by normal human morals and ethics, operating on values and principles that only makes sense when you consider how he wasn't entirely human now… Barely actually, if he could even be considered human at all.
Her eyes were once again drawn to her core being picked at by Magos and his medicae-servitors with their syringe-tipped tentacles that were saving her using his own flesh. Any normal human would have considered this an immense sacrifice, but for Magos, it was quaint- like loaning someone a pen.
It was ironic… She was now more human than him, in volume and in mentality.
But she realised something important.
Dragon was hard-coded by her father to put human lives before her own. And she had hated it. Not because she wasn't willing to do so, but because can good deeds truly be considered as such when she doesn't have the free will to make them herself?
But as her eyes met with Magos' own red ones, something clicked in her mind. That same strict programming- those nigh-unbreakable shackles? It was like they weren't there… Because it didn't consider Magos to be human. Not anymore at least.
And as Dragon looked at the Tinker before her, she realised that- for the first time in her artificial life- she was face to face with a sentient being who she wasn't obligated to lay down her life for. She was no longer someone whose life was less important , because with him, her life was now equally as valuable- equally as precious… and that simple truth was something she didn't know she needed so badly until it was handed to her just now.
And still she couldn't believe it.
"Just like that? " Dragon whispered- keeping the full storm of tumultuous conflicting emotions from her vocalisers. "How can you be so casual about this?!
You fought off the world's most powerful parahumans, sacrificed your own humanity and literally gave pounds of your own flesh… for someone like me? Aren't you afraid that I might stab you in the back and endeavour to eradicate all of humanity? How can you sacrifice so much for me when even my own father didn't trust me?!"
Magos just turned to steadily look at her with his glowing green optics.
"Richter may have been your father, but he wasn't your daddy." He calmly boasted the ludicrous claim in the most inappropriately solemn tone.
" …Really, Magos?" Dragon asked in an incredulous deadpan at that really cheesy line, all despite already knowing that he meant every syllable of it. His affection for her was all too real. The sacrifice he had made, the bridges that he had burned just to be with her…
"Please stop that…" She begged softly, " Stop treating me like I'm more important. Like I'm human. I'm not- I'm really not. I think you want a cyborg woman rather than a full AI like me."
But instead, Magos reached over with a bionic hand and gently rested it on her head- ruffled her synthetic brown hair with his metal fingers.
"You do not need to be human: Your life truly is that precious just as you are now."
It was something that she really needed to hear. And it was only due to the virtue of being an AI with absolute control of her body that she didn't break out in faux sobs of joy and relief.
"Would you really be okay…?" She choked out, "...with someone like me?"
"Meat females can never even dream of coming close to matching you! " he passionately emphasised- nodding his head in affirmative. "How can those fugly meat females even compare to a perfect machine? I mean look at you!"
Magos gestured to both her gynoid body and her fleshy bio-computer that he was operating on. It was so typical of Magos that Dragon couldn't help it, she vocalised her laughter.
"Hahahaha!" Dragon laughed- smiling wide, laughing out loud and feigning that she had lungs like a squishy human. " That's just so you to say that!"
"Yes, and I am 102% correct with a 2% margin of error!"
And she only beamed wider. He was surprisingly affectionate.
Dragon realised now that he was exactly what she needed: Her very own fairytale of a heroic knight.
A knight who had heard about a princess locked away in the tallest tower at a faraway castle, guarded by a fearsome dragon whose existence was spoken in fearful whispers around candlelight. Except this knight did not brave the journey for the princess' hand in marriage.
No, he came for the dragon's. And nothing was going to stop this mad knight. One that was mad in all the right ways and in all the ways the dragon needed: Mad enough to ignore the warnings of his peers of dragons. Mad enough to disregard the frightened whispers of the common folk.
Mad enough to fight against the entire world for her. Mad enough to tell that dragon that she didn't need to be a princess to be beautiful… and mad enough to love someone like her.
"Thank you, Magos." She whispered- placing the skull back on the tray before resting her robe-covered frame against his side, "For everything."
"Don't thank me just yet. I haven't even settled on a ring design yet."
If she was a human, her heart would be beating fast from that confession. They were certainly moving this relationship at a fast pace, but she was glad that they were adopting that human tradition- she always thought it to be romantic.
"Even if it was made of cardboard, I would still say yes." Dragon reassured him- placing a soft kiss on his metal cheek, "I'm just glad to have met you."
His hand gently patted the top of her head again- generating a very pleasant stimulus for her.
"Likewise, Dragon."
The true start of their journey together. She had found her knight and it was up to them to ride off into the sunset to have their happily ever after. But there was definitely something they had to do first.
"And Magos?" She smiled gently at him, " Just two important things."
"Yes?" he perked up- turning away from his work long enough for Dragon to pounce.
clang*
Her hand grabbed his lower-rear assembly as she pushed him to sit on the lap of her Suit.
Domicile Regulation and General Oversight Node OS
UPDATE Version 2.00.000.
Checking sexual learning architecture… complete.
Checking function-unified coitus charting system… complete.
Checking fetish schema… complete.
Checking dirty talk language engine… complete.
Checking vaginal fold micro-muscle array… complete
Checking orifice texture mimicry matrices… complete.
Checking T.H.I.C.C. hydraulic system… complete.
Estimating power supply at max performance… 32 Days 17 hours 41 minutes
"One, I know what {Glurkle} means now..." She whispered to him- configuring her facial expression to that of a very lustful woman who was about to get what she desperately wanted. Ergo, she set it to automatically reflect what she was feeling on the inside.
"And Two, I know for a fact that this gynoid body you just gave me has a very good one."
Dragon wrapped slender fingers on his metal shoulders as she climbed on top of his lap- pressing her perfectly-engineered handfuls of silicon that human women breasts would pale in comparison.
Custom high-performance tinkertech lubricants that every airforce in the world would beg to use in their jet fighters leaked down the perfectly soft texture of her inner thighs. Her amusingly-named {Functional Unified Coitus Charting Systems} gave her a myriad of positions and motions to pursue from her current place on Magos' lap.
Utilising her onboard THICC system, she added a perfectly-measured layer of cushioning all across her frame. Breasts going from a modest B to a full DD, thighs filling out and softening, and her ass rounding out- balancing a firmness and softness uniformly across the entire surface of her ass to an exquisite degree that no human woman was physically able to attain.
In her years-long service as the superheroine Dragon, she had been a nigh unkillable tank- tossing around supervillains and shrugging off their greatest powers as her body simply reformed in cocoon of molten metal.
She had been a draconic warship the size of a commericial airliner- raining fire and sometimes death on foes kilometres below her. But she never felt as powerful as she did now in her current form: A full-figured gynoid brunette with nothing but a red robe on- staring lustily down at the world's most formidable tinker who she had pinned against the throne with her... womanly assets.
Then subdermal infrared sensors told her that there was something hot and thick pressing against her inner thigh.
"Did you think I'd give you a sexual organ that I couldn't... make use of?" He taunted he as his hands ran along her sides- admiring the mathematically-perfect hourglass figure of impossible smooth and soft skin that she had. The phantom shiver of pleasure somehow tingling through her despite the capacity to feel pleasure not being equipped. anywhere in her body.
"Mmmmm" She made a low drawn out moan of appreciation. "How are you doing this?"
"I expanded, upgraded and integrated the S.T.I.C.C. technology that you liked so much into my bionics..." He explained, " Suffice to say, anywhere I touch you is going to feel very good. 35.2% increase from before."
"I like when you cite dirty statistics to me... " Dragon purred- lowering software restriction and letting all that pent up lust permeate her every process until it was all she could think about. "...I guess we're lucky that neither of us are human. No silly meatbag on Earth-Bet has the physiological durability to survive the frantic, unrestrained fucking that I'm about to have with you."
It was about time for this fairytale dragon to get really, really laid.
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