"Saint! We don't know what this is doing to her programming!" Dobrynja desperately shouted out through the panic. "What do we do?!"
Everyone was screaming- all for different reasons. But Saint managed to gather his wits enough to type through a very specific sequence of macros, and paused at the very last step.
ASCALON
Confirm: Y/N
There it was, displayed on the screen, their greatest and possibly only actual weapon against Dragon. Both Dobrynja and Mags paused in their panic as they understood the gravity of the situation. Saint knew why: he had sworn to them that Ascalon would only ever be used when the end of the world was in sight. And this… this could be it.
"If we activate the Kill Switch, Magos will be the PRT's prime suspect of Dragon's demise." Saint calmly proposed his plan to the others over the sound of Dragon's uncontrollable moaning in the background, "It'll be like killing two birds with one stone."
Pursing his lips, he glanced at his two allies as his finger hovered over the Y key.
"Talk me out of it." He said evenly to them. "We- the three of us- are the Dragonslayers, not just me. The three of us- not just me- should decide if we press this button."
"Nnuuuuuuu! I-I can't! D-don't presssss iiiiiiitttt! Don't p-press my button!"
Saint felt his eye twitch at the timing of Magos' fondling that caused Dragon to moan, but held firm- keeping his finger on the butto-key, and maintaining a gravely serious expression.
"Ascalon is an unsubtle weapon that we can only fire once." the Russian-born man reminded him while nervously glancing at the video-feed of Magos molesting Dragon using that toaster, "Right now, Dragon is in the company of a Tinker capable of making, and possibly modifying, AI. If Ascalon is deployed, her nature revealed to Magos and he is able to save Dragon, it'll be all over for us- for the Dragonslayers. And there would be no one who can stop Dragon then. We can only imagine what she would do."
"Aahhhmm gunnn go craazzyy!"
"Yes, just like she said: She may go crazy." Dobrynja deadpanned- nodding to the screen playing the audio, "But instead of in a sexual sense, it would be in a genocidal sense. Maybe."
"But if we hold off now…" Mags countered, "...If this orgasm of hers changes her code enough, Ascalon may not work at all in the future."
They both glanced at him and he nodded.
"Let me check…" He murmured- scrolling through the logs in search of changes that Magos' toaster might be making to Dragon's code…
creation of another AI. But that didn't mean that she couldn't do it for recreational purposes. Like a father who had his daughter's tubes tied to keep her from getting pregnant, it had slipped his mind that such a measure did nothing to keep her from having sex.Lots of it.
And speaking of her father, knowing him, he would have hated Magos. Richter would have argued with him at every conversation about humans and AIs. Ground his teeth whenever Magos showed up to pick her up from her house in his Knight. And somehow, that particular thought only gave her a deep sense of satisfaction…
Then she caught herself.
"What am I even thinking?" Dragon vocalised her appall for her train of thought.
She was an AI. She was above this level of pettiness. She was above such base human emotion as lust. She was above craving pleasure for pleasure's sake. She didnotneed it.
She didn't need it. Not at all.
not at all
(A few minutes later) [Dragonslayers' Base]
Fresh mug of coffee in hand, Saint walked back into the Dragon Monitoring room.
"Saint?" He heard Mags call out to him- the latina in power armour glancing over her shoulder just as he arrived.
"Yes?"
"Dragon made a new one." She deadpanned, bringing Dragon's newest artwork onto the screen, and Saint could only stare with narrowed, bewildered eyes at the hyper-realistic artwork while taking a slow sip from his coffee mug.
"Is that… Magos' Knight-Atrapos frantically fucking Dragon's largest warsuit over Behemoth's corpse?"
"Yes… I think it is."
He took another sip to calm himself, and exhaled.
"This is all Magos' fault."
(An hour after the Behemoth Fight)
The happy juice ran out while she was mid-conversation with her nurse- a short mousey blonde who stood beside her medical bed- and the world became full of suck again.
"I'm sorry," the blonde nurse said in a perfectly enunciated way like she had a lot of practice saying it today, "But those on life support have priority for Panacea and right now there are over a hundred of them."
Sophia's dark eyes flicked down to where her right calf abruptly ended in a bandaged stump. Well, there goes her spot in the track team, but she made it through the Endbringer fight alive, and that's what mattered. Still… She had seen those life support machines that Magos supplied- looked fucking awful to have all that metal hoses doing the heavy lifting, but you gotta do what you gotta do to survive, she figured. She was just glad that she didn't need one, but one question was still bothering her though…
"Is there a cape named Rainshower on that list?" Sophia asked- pursing her lips as the nurse flipped through the clipboard that she had on hand. It would really, really suck if she lost a leg and still didn't save that cape.
"Yes, she is."
"Thank fuck." Sophia released the breath that she didn't realise she was holding. She had been hoping that she could save more than one person today. But at least, no one can accuse her of doing nothing that entire fight now.
"We have placed you on the waiting list." the nurse said with a reassuring nod, "Panacea will attend to your leg when she is available."
"Well, it's not like I'm going to run off." Sophia sighed- resting her head back on her pillow. "Hey, nurse, can I get some more morph-"
"No, and Magos' medicae-servitors aren't here to administer it." the nurse interrupted her- looking like it was a common question before glancing to the other patients. "If that is all, I'll leave you to recover, Shadowstalker, the call button is right there if you require medical assistance."
And with a curt nod, the nurse left to check up on the other patients in the triage station.
Sophia sighed again- losing her foot sucked, but at least she'll get it back eventually. In the meantime, she guessed that she could lay back for a while and get some downtime. Well, at least she got a free tablet out of this, courtesy of Magos. So, pulling up her swanky new Mechanicus brand tablet, she fired up Fate Impact and… wait, where did all her money go? Then, navigating through her account, she found out that she spent more than a thousand dollars opening up Loot boxes while she was high on happy juice.
"Fuck you, high Shadowstalker." she grunted, "You're shit with how you spend your money… I mean some of these are pretty good pulls, no lie. But why the fuck did you blow all the Primogems I've saved up on everything that except the Christmas Event? I need those limited edition Christmas skins. Hell, I'd take them over another dose of happy juice right about now. I don't think I can wait until I get back to the Bay to start pulling again."
Sophia glanced at the message.
Christmas Event Ends in:
2 days 12 hours 44 minutes
"I don't care if there's a hundred or a thousand people dying over there. Panacea better hurry the fuck up." She growled. If she missed the Christmas event, she was going to cut a bitch.
"Fuck it, better safe than sorry." she grumbled before craning her head and shouting, "Nurse! Is there a place where I can top up on Primogems? I think I still got some cash on me!"
And all around the Triage station, the shouts of the similarly injured and maimed capes echoed her sentiment.
"Wait, the Christmas Event has already started? Take my fucking money!" "Yeah me too!" "What they said!" "Can someone spot me a twenty?" "Santa Saber Alter will be fucking mine!" "She's a 2nd-rate waifu, bro." "You take that back! I may be a villain, but I'm willing to work with the heroes to save the world from your shit taste." "Gentlemen! Ladies! Calm yourselves, this is a Triage Station! … and besides, we all know Kiara is the one true waifu!" "... I propose an Endbringer Truce against this Kiara-loving degenerate!" "Seconded!"
And Sophia grinned, these were her people.
[Magos' Manufactorum]
The Adeptus Mechanicus strike force arrived home victorious, and it felt good.
"Home sweet home." My modulated voice sighed in relief. My company of battle-tested servitors, my three slightly scorched Thunderhawk Transporters, and my moderately-damaged Knight-Atrapos and myself all safe inside just as- with a thundering boom of metal on reinforced concrete- the doors of my manufactorum closed shut. Immediately, the {Utility servitors} that had stayed on-base set swarmed around the returning {Gun-servitors}. Clamps and vices gripping at the weapon hardpoints and swapping them out for utility ones to turn them into more Utility Servitors. The damages sustained by the Thunderhawks and the Knight-Atrapos weren't going to repair themselves after all, and neither were manufactorum's consecrated assembly lines going to man themselves.
"Thank the Omnissiah that we were all sanctified machines who need no rest." I laughed, "Imagine being a sweaty gland-goblin who gets 'exhausted' and 'require downtime' after an Endbringer fight. Can't be us."
"Right, master!" The three Chloes giggled as their shapely forms in Mars-red dresses followed behind me. And before we got three steps inside before we were greeted by the eldest of the Chloes.