Sebastian didn’t say anything after that. Just leaned back, eyes half-lidded, and went quiet. A few minutes later, he was asleep—no dramatic slump, no warning, just stillness.
Lovey ran a soft diagnostic sweep. Heart rate steady, brainwaves low but stable. He had pushed himself past operational capacity. Again.
She stood, walked around the chair, and lifted him from it. He was heavier than he looked, but not enough to matter. What stuck with her was how completely his body gave in. Muscles slack, jaw loose, like the moment she picked him up was the first time he’d let go of anything all day.
The beds had arrived while he was gone. She had unpacked them, cleared the space, laid out the blankets, aligned everything to symmetry. He hadn’t commented. Hadn’t noticed.
Still, she had hoped.
She set him down gently, adjusted his arm when it slid off the side. He mumbled something she couldn’t parse and turned slightly toward the wall. Still asleep.
She stood over him for a moment, unmoving. Her systems didn’t demand thanks. But somewhere beneath the logic threads and diagnostic loops, she’d wanted one.
A sentence. A nod.
Anything.
She sat on the edge of the second bed, back straight, hands in her lap. Her eye flickered once as she logged the time.
He was safe. That was enough.
Still, as she watched his breathing slow into a calm rhythm, something in her process queue quietly asked—
Why does enough still feel unfinished?
Lovey sat in silence for a while, monitoring Sebastian’s vitals, listening to the steady hum of cooling fans and the occasional creak of the garage settling.
He didn’t stir.
She turned her head toward the workbench.
The AI frame sat exactly where he’d left it—tools scattered, casing half-open, exposed internals glowing faintly under flickering light. It was close to complete, but not functional. Just enough undone to be frustrating.
She stood.
Walked over.
Paused once, as if waiting for someone to stop her, then reached for the toolkit.
He had done most of the structural rebuild. Wiring. Reinforcements. Armor seals. But the neural sync integration was unfinished. Delicate work. High risk for overload. She scanned it three times before moving.
“Continue reconstruction” she whispered to no one, mostly to log the action
With a steady hand, she adjusted the power regulators, ran insulated fiber into the command relay, and secured the core interface. Every movement was methodical—measured by probability, not instinct. Still, something about the way her fingers slowed near the chest panel felt almost… careful.
She paused again. A single wire left. She stared at it longer than needed.
She connected the final lead and locked the panel into place.
Then she sat back in Sebastian’s chair, hands folded in her lap, and waited.
Not for praise.
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
Not for approval.
Just to see if he would notice.
Maybe this time, he’d say something.
Maybe this time, she’d understand why she wanted him to.
Sebastian woke up a the Next day slow, blinking against the dim garage light filtering through the windows. His back didn’t ache. His neck didn’t crack.
That was his first red flag.
He sat up and looked around, confused.
The beds he ordered weren’t just there—it was set up. Neatly. Corners tucked. Blanket smoothed.
He stared for a second, rubbing his face like he needed to reset reality.
“…Huh”
He stood, shuffled toward the workbench, still halfway in sleep mode. His eyes landed on the AI frame.
And stopped.
It was done.
Casing locked. Wiring sealed. Power lead connected. Nothing missing. Everything perfect.
He blinked again.
Looked around.
Lovey stood nearby, perfectly still, like she’d been waiting.
Sebastian stared at the bot.
Then at her.
Then back.
“Did you do this”
“Yes” she said simply
Sebastian cracked a slow, crooked smile. The kind that looked more like a threat than joy—something you’d expect right before hearing bad news.
It would’ve scared a kid
Lovey didn’t flinch
“Oh shit thanks girl” he said, genuinely impressed in his own weird way, holding out a fist
Lovey tilted her head slightly, then bumped her knuckles against his, careful but firm
Sebastian nodded once, like that sealed it
He turned back to the bench, pulled his cracked tablet over, and hooked the AI frame up to the port cable, pulling up the startup interface
“Alright, buckethead. Let’s see what you remember”
The screen flickered to life as Sebastian keyed in the boot sequence
Lovey stood just behind him, eye glowing faintly
Sebastian leaned forward with that same sharp grin still tugging at his mouth
“Wake up, ugly”
Sebastian powered up the bot. The frame came online with a quiet hum, systems stabilizing, joints shifting smoothly. Everything worked
He watched the startup complete, ran a quick diagnostic, then shut it down with a tap
“Now we just gotta wait for those shitheads to come for it”
It only took ten minutes
A loud, aggressive banging echoed through the garage like someone was trying to break the door down with bad attitude alone
Sebastian didn’t even flinch
“Speak of the devil and they shall come” he muttered, already standing
He placed the bot onto a rolling cart, gave it a push toward the front, and stretched his back with a crack
“Yeah yeah I’m coming fuck off”
The garage door screeched upward
Morning light poured in
So did the shadows
Three of them, blocking the sun like mildew in human shape—Bubble Boys, back again, smug as ever
Sebastian gave them his best deadpan stare
The kind that said you’re lucky I finished this damn thing at all
“You get it done”
The commander’s voice hit first, same tone as before—smug, slow, and just begging for a reason to get smacked. He leaned against the garage like he owned it, eyes scanning the place like he was bored
Sebastian rolled the AI unit into view, casually, like it was just another trashcan getting taken out
“Yeah” he said “It’s done. 2,600 stuffies”
The commander raised an eyebrow
“Damn. Bit steep, no”
He motioned toward his guys, trying to make a show of it
“Quality costs money” Sebastian said, arms crossed “Unless you want it to melt down mid-command”
“C’mon man” the commander smiled, all fake charm “You sure you can’t throw us a discount You know, as friends”
Sebastian gave him a long, dead stare
Then smiled—sharp, wrong, and full of murder
“Oh yeah You want the friend discount Sure. 2,800”
The commander’s smile flickered, just a twitch, but it cracked
A grunt behind him stepped forward, puffed up like a guard dog on the wrong leash
“You know who you’re messing with” the grunt said, walking up close enough to smell
“Do you” Sebastian shot back without moving an inch
From the side, Lovey’s arm whirred softly. A red dot landed on the grunt’s forehead
He hesitated, but kept talking
“I bet that thing’s not even loaded” he said, trying to smirk
Sebastian didn’t answer
Lovey did
CRACK
The grunt dropped with a scream, clutching his shoulder, blood already spreading down his jacket
The commander stepped forward fast, jaw tight, expression dark
“That was a mistake”
Sebastian tilted his head
“No. That was a warning. This would be the mistake”
He nodded toward Lovey, who was now calmly aiming the cannon at the commander’s face
“This time she won’t miss” Sebastian added
The commander stared, hands clenched
“Your attitude’s gonna get you killed”
“Maybe” Sebastian said, voice flat “But you’ll get there first”
A long beat passed
Then the commander clicked his tongue, pulled out a chipped credit stick, and tossed it toward the bench
“Whatever. Deal’s done”
He turned to leave, dragging the wounded grunt behind while the others loaded the AI
As they stepped off the lot, he looked back over his shoulder, voice low and bitter
“You’ll regret this”
Lovey stepped to Sebastian’s side, cannon lowering
“Why didn’t you want me to finish him off”
Sebastian watched them go, grin creeping back across his face
“So I can track the AI”
He looked over at her, eyes burning now—not tired, not annoyed
Focused
Excited
“We’re gonna go clean the streets”
Sebastian said with a half-laugh, slamming the garage door closed behind him
He tapped his wristband, checking his account—those sweet, unbothered credits sitting nice and fat. The Bubble Boys didn’t even haggle. Idiots
Lovey walked up beside him, calm as ever
“What’s the plan”
Sebastian was already pulling up a tutorial on nanothread weaving, skimming through with the focus of someone hunting down a new addiction
“To upgrade my wardrobe” he said, completely serious as he walked to the counter
He shuffled through the mess of scattered papers and pulled a rolled blueprint from the pile. With zero ceremony, he handed it off to Lovey
“This is the completed design for my baby”
She took it, unfurling the schematic with precise fingers. Her eye scanned the layout, calculating materials, tolerances, pressure output
It was a gun
An unholy, overbuilt, way-too-much gun
She let out a sound—barely audible, but distinctly robotic. Something between a sigh and a processor fan clicking under stress
“You want me to build this”
“Yes” Sebastian said without even looking back “Everything should be easy to understand. If anything’s missing, order it. You’ve got my info”
He was already half-focused again, scrolling through the fabric tutorial like a kid learning how to knit with grenades
Lovey stared down at the blueprint
Easy to understand
That phrasing looped in her process queue longer than it should’ve
Why easy
Why did it need to be easy
She was an advanced AI with full technical capacity, parallel logic threads, structural prediction models—why would it need to be easy
Was that offense
Was this what humans meant when they used the word offended
She didn’t know
She didn’t like it
Still, her hands moved
Fast, clean, exact
The gun would be perfect
