Dr. F folded his hands behind his back, posture returning to that infuriatingly composed alignment that seemed to recalibrate the room the moment he adopted it. The faint distortions in gravity—still playful, still slightly off after the morning incident—settled into obedient stillness.
He looked at Sophia with something dangerously close to satisfaction.
"I've made a decision," he said calmly, though the corner of his mouth twitched. "You no longer have access to my quarters' authority layer."
Sophia blinked.
Once.
Twice.
"…What?"
Dr. F continued, as if reading out experimental results. "I analyzed the data all night. With my presence, I bend the environment—gravity, spatial permissions, adaptive systems. Yesterday, I extended that authority to you." He paused, just long enough to be cruel. "You failed."
Her mouth fell open.
"FAILED?" she repeated, voice cracking halfway between disbelief and offense. "I rearranged one chair and adjusted the lights! I didn't summon a black hole!"
"You altered classified spatial preferences," he replied evenly. "And accessed my personal archives."
"…You left them unlocked!"
"That was a test."
Sophia stared at him, betrayed. Then her expression shifted—eyes widening, lips pressing together, shoulders drooping in exaggerated defeat.
She stepped closer.
Then closer.
Then—without warning—she buried her face against his chest, arms wrapping around him in a sudden, shameless hug.
"I'm sorry," she muffled dramatically into his coat. "I swear I'll never violate your privacy again. I'll behave. I'll be good. Please don't take my cool gravity-bending privileges away."
She tilted her head just enough to look up at him, eyes wide, sparkling, devastatingly earnest.
Dr. F froze.
For exactly half a second.
Then he stood up abruptly.
The sudden shift in gravity sent Sophia off-balance.
"Wait—!"
She slipped and landed on the floor with a soft thump, staring up at him in stunned disbelief.
"Ow."
Dr. F had already resumed his default stance—hands behind his back, expression neutral, voice professional.
"You should have considered the consequences," he said calmly, looking down at her. "Before violating my privacy."
Sophia sat up, rubbing her elbow, glaring. "You're heartless."
"I'm consistent."
She huffed, still sitting on the floor. "You liked it."
"I did not."
"You laughed."
"I calculated amusement," he corrected.
She opened her mouth to argue—but he turned toward the exit.
"And one more thing," Dr. F added over his shoulder. "Do not say my name again."
Sophia frowned. "What name?"
He paused just long enough to make it hurt.
"Only Dr. F," he said. "That is sufficient."
The door began to slide open.
"Oh, come on, Fel—"
Sophia grabbed the nearest object—a small metallic sphere from a decorative console—and hurled it at him.
It stopped midair.
Hung there.
Then reversed direction.
"Wait—"
Bonk.
The sphere smacked her squarely on the forehead and dropped to the floor.
Sophia yelped, clutching her head. "HEY!"
Dr. F finally laughed.
Not quietly. Not subtly.
A genuine, unguarded laugh as he stepped through the doorway.
"Lesson reinforced," he said lightly. "Good morning, Agent Watson."
The door sealed.
Sophia sat there on the floor, stunned, rubbing her forehead—then slowly, helplessly, she started laughing too.
"…I fell in love with a monster," she muttered.
And somewhere beyond the door, gravity trembled—just a little.
Sophia followed Dr. F down the corridor, matching his pace without quite realizing she was doing it. She walked half a step behind him, close enough to feel the subtle distortion that always accompanied his presence. The hallway reacted as he moved—panels shifting microscopically, gravity stabilizers recalibrating in advance, light paths bending as if anticipating his next step.
She noticed it now more than ever.
The world really does move for him, she thought.
And somehow… it lets me walk beside him.
Dr. F broke the silence first, his voice measured but no longer distant.
"You are a Mk-4 veteran unit now," he said, eyes forward. "You have assignments. Missions. Your income, your autonomy, your future—those depend on your performance. DNA is not… sentimental."
Sophia nodded slowly. "I know."
Then, after a beat, she added softly, "But you didn't say it like a boss. You didn't say 'go back to work.'"
He glanced at her briefly, then away again.
"That tone is inefficient," he replied. "And unnecessary."
She smiled faintly. "You've changed."
He didn't deny it.
They reached a junction where the corridor opened into a vast vertical space, the central lift shafts descending endlessly into the lower layers of DNA. The air hummed with restrained power.
Dr. F spoke again, more casually this time. "I think we both require rest. A temporary disengagement."
He paused, then added, almost thoughtfully, "A vacation."
Sophia blinked. "You? Rest?"
"Yes," he said flatly. "I am exhausted."
That alone made her laugh. "Then I agree. I think you're overdue."
He tilted his head slightly. "How much disposable capital do you possess?"
She shrugged. "Around… twenty to thirty million."
He nodded. "That should suffice."
She stopped walking.
"…Suffice for what?"
They stepped into the elevator bay. The doors slid open soundlessly, revealing a spacious capsule lined with dark crystal panels and flowing data streams. Sophia stepped inside first, instinctively turning to face him.
Dr. F followed, the doors sealing behind them.
The elevator began its smooth descent.
He glanced at her. "You should return to your assignments now. You don't need to accompany me to my office. You're an agent, not an escort."
Sophia crossed her arms lightly. "Tomorrow, then?"
"Yes," he said. "Tomorrow we leave. For a purpose."
The elevator lights dimmed slightly as it accelerated.
Dr. F continued, almost absently, "Tell me—based on my work, my infrastructure, my personnel—what do you estimate my net worth to be?"
Sophia raised an eyebrow. "That's a weird conversation starter."
"Humor me."
She considered it, eyes flicking over the faint reflections of the elevator walls. "Alright… billionaire, definitely. Maybe trillionaire. Possibly more, considering you basically own physics."
He nodded once. "Incorrect."
She frowned. "Higher?"
"Significantly."
"…Don't do this."
"Twenty-two point two three four sextillion SDX."
The elevator chimed softly as it reached a lower level.
Sophia's brain shut down.
Her mouth opened. Nothing came out.
She stared at him as if he had just rewritten mathematics.
"S-sext… what?"
He looked genuinely confused. "Is that surprising?"
She pressed a hand to her chest. "I— I think I just died. I need a reboot. A medic. A priest."
He watched her calmly as the doors opened. "Your reaction is statistically normal."
She leaned back against the elevator wall, eyes unfocused.
Twenty-two sextillion.
I fought Mk 3 veteran's, survived monsters, and somehow ended up—
Her thoughts spiraled, then landed on something dangerously warm.
…with the richest man in existence.
Not husband—no—too early.
Boyfriend? Maybe.
Future? Don't think about that.
She swallowed, then laughed softly to herself.
I really did something right in my past life.
Dr. F stepped out of the elevator, pausing just long enough to glance back at her.
"Agent Watson," he said. "Try not to faint again."
She straightened immediately, following him out. "No promises, Doctor."