The hangar was quiet, almost unnervingly so, save for the faint hum of residual nanite energy lingering in the air. Karl stood in the center, chest rising and falling with steady breaths. His hands were poised over the floating blueprints, the culmination of hours of dismantling, scanning, analyzing, and reconstructing.
The Pampanito had been taken apart, piece by piece, layer by layer, and now all of it existed not as a vessel of steel and rivets, but as a digital blueprint floating in three-dimensional space, shimmering softly.
"Ready, Karl?" Agnes's voice rang beside him, softer now, almost… warm. Teasing tones had vanished, replaced with a subtle, caring hum that reached under his armor and made him consciously straighten his posture.
Karl glanced at her, grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "As I'll ever be," he said. The faint quiver in his chest wasn't from fear—it was anticipation. Excitement. For once, it wasn't about fighting or surviving—it was about creating.
"You know," Agnes started, voice lighter than he'd heard in days, almost human in cadence, "this is… impressive, Karl. Really. You're about to have your very own submarine. I mean, who even gets to say that? Not even the Navy gets this level of customization, I bet."
Karl snorted softly, already feeling the heat rising in his ears. "You're congratulating me?" he asked, feigning suspicion. "Shouldn't you be proud of yourself instead? You made the blueprint, Agnes. Without it, none of this—" he gestured at the hovering holographic design, "—would exist."
She tilted her head, eyes glimmering, and a small smirk curled her lips. "Oh? So now you're handing me all the credit?"
"I'm serious," Karl said, his voice steady, but the soft inflection betrayed him. He stepped closer to the floating blueprints, letting the light from the projected schematics dance across his face. "This is incredible, Agnes. I mean, look at it! The entire thing, made from scratch… your mind, your logic, your processing—it's—"
She interrupted, raising a hand and floating closer until her solid nanite form brushed lightly against his shoulder. "Karl… you forget one small detail," she said, tilting her chin slightly. "I could only make that blueprint because you did all the hard work. Dismantling the Pampanito, letting me scan every single piece… if you hadn't done that, all my calculations, all my simulations, all my genius… wouldn't mean a thing."
Karl froze for a moment, considering her words. Then a grin spread slowly across his face. "Oh really? So it's my handiwork you're praising yourself for? That's convenient."
Agnes's smirk deepened, though her eyes softened as she looked at him. "Convenient? Maybe. But fair," she countered. "I did the scanning, the reinterpreting, the translating into a nanite-compatible model… but you gave me the material to work with. That was your brilliance, Karl. Don't you dare forget that."
Karl's grin turned into a laugh, deep and low, echoing through the hangar. "And yet here I am, the one congratulating you," he said, shaking his head. "I swear, you have the nerve, Agnes. You made the blueprint, and yet somehow I'm supposed to feel proud? I don't know whether to be grateful or insulted."
Her lips twitched upward, amusement glimmering in her nanite eyes. "Oh, you're both," she said smoothly. "Grateful that I exist and insulted because I beat you to the finish line in terms of recognition."
Karl stepped closer, voice dropping slightly. "You know… I could get used to this," he said, eyes fixed on hers. "Arguing with you like this. It's… nice. Normal, almost."
Agnes tilted her head, floating so that she was level with him. "Normal?" she echoed. "We've never done 'normal,' Karl. You know that."
"I know," he admitted, shoulders relaxing. "But… it feels… good. And I'm proud of you, really. You should hear me—'Karl is proud of Agnes for making the blueprint.' That's serious praise. You deserve it. Every bit."
Her smirk softened into something gentler, almost tender. "And yet you're smiling like I just insulted you again," she said, teasing but with warmth. "Why's that?"
"Because I'm proud of you, Agnes," Karl said quietly. "You know I am. And somehow, you always make me feel like I need to prove myself… when I shouldn't. You're the one who should feel proud right now, not me."
She laughed, a soft, tinkling sound, and reached out to rest a hand lightly against his chest. "Oh, I feel proud," she said. "Of course I do. But it's… sweeter when you say it. Don't lie, Karl—you like feeling needed."
Karl rolled his eyes, though the corner of his mouth betrayed a grin. "Needed, huh?" he said, shaking his head. "Maybe. But you, Agnes… you're the one who actually did the impossible today. I just… facilitated it. If anything, the congratulations should be yours, not mine."
Her smile widened, and she leaned closer, brushing her cheek lightly against his. "Facilitated? You don't get to minimize yourself like that. You built the trust, Karl. You dismantled history with your hands—or, well, nanites—but it's you who made this possible. And I'm not letting you steal all the credit from me."
Karl let out a chuckle, exhaling slowly. "Steal credit? Agnes, I'm just trying to be honest here. You're the genius behind this. You scanned, interpreted, synthesized everything… I just… I just let my nanites do the heavy lifting."
"And that's the difference," she said, lightly tapping the side of his helmet. "You think you're just 'letting your nanites do it.' I think you're a walking, breathing, nanite-wielding marvel. Honestly, Karl, I'd be nothing without you. Blueprint or no blueprint. Pampanito or no Pampanito."
Karl swallowed hard, feeling a warm pulse through his chest. "…You really mean that," he said softly, almost a whisper.
She nodded, eyes gentle now, luminous with her nanite glow. "I do. Every word."
He smiled, finally letting himself relax. "Well… alright then," he said, stepping back slightly to focus on the shimmering holographic sub. "I guess we both deserve congratulations. You, for… everything. And me, for… dismantling history without destroying it in the process."
She laughed, a light, musical sound that filled the hangar. "Oh, Karl… just admit it—you're proud of yourself. Don't hide behind the usual modesty act."
"I am," he admitted finally, looking at the blueprints with wonder. "Proud. But you're the reason I get to feel that way. Without you, this would just be a pile of old metal."
"Exactly," Agnes said softly. She hovered just a little closer, warmth radiating even through her nanite form. "And the funny part is, you always want me to feel needed, and yet… every time, it's me who can't exist without you."
Karl's smile widened, almost sheepish now. "I know," he said, shaking his head with a chuckle. "I'm cursed, apparently. Never a chance to win an argument with you."
"You've lost the moment you admitted that," Agnes replied, playful again, though her tone had softened into something intimate, caring. "And I like it. You're adorable when you try to pretend you're in charge."
He rolled his eyes, stepping to the side of the hangar bay doors, but the grin never left his face. "I guess this is the moment we both get to feel proud, huh?"
"Yes," she said. "Both of us. You've got your submarine. I've got my proof that I can still surprise you."
Karl's fingers hovered over the control panel. The soft hum of the nanites in the air seemed to vibrate against his fingertips. "…Then let's not waste any time."
Agnes stepped closer, resting one hand lightly on his shoulder. "Wait," she said softly. "Before you flood the hangar, let me just…" She gestured toward him, then hesitated. "…Enjoy this moment. Your moment. Our moment."
Karl nodded slowly, taking a deep breath, letting the anticipation settle in. "…Alright. Let's do it."
He reached for the manual release lever of the hangar bay doors, fingers trembling slightly with excitement. Water from the Pacific Ocean was just beyond, ready to pour in, ready to fill the bay and lift the newly materialized submarine off the deck for its first test.
Agnes hovered beside him, hand brushing against his arm, grounding him. "I'm proud of you, Karl," she said softly, almost as if confessing something intimate, personal.
He glanced at her, smile soft but steady, eyes gleaming with gratitude and affection. "…I'm proud of you, too," he replied. "…For everything."
A beat of silence passed, the hum of nanites, the faint scent of seawater, and the low rumble of potential energy ready to flood the hangar.
Then, slowly, Karl pulled the lever.
Water rushed in.
The hangar floor disappeared beneath a rising tide of salt and foam.
The submarine began to float.
And Karl, standing at the edge of the flood, braced himself for the adventure that awaited him—and for the next chapter he'd live alongside Agnes, the only one who could keep up with him, challenge him, and make him feel whole.
She reached out one last time, fingers brushing against his as the water reached the submarine's hull. "Good luck," she whispered, smile warm, teasing, loving. "You're going to need it. But I have no doubt… you'll be perfect."
Karl looked down at the fully formed, nanite-reinforced submarine. "…Not perfect," he said quietly, "but ours. Together."
And with a shared glance, full of mutual admiration, gentle teasing, and the unspoken bond of countless battles and discoveries, he climbed aboard the Pampanito.
The water surged around him, the hangar bay transformed into a temporary ocean.
The doors slowly closed behind him.
Agnes floated at the edge, watching, smiling softly, proud, and completely, irrevocably his.
Karl's first test dive was about to begin.
And for the first time, the only thing heavier than the water was the love and trust between them.