Shhh, He's Gaming...

❧ word count: 10.3k ❧ warnings: cursing, mentions and discussion of past family deaths, discussions of blood and blood drinking, graphic description of blood and blood drinking, an even more graphic description of neck biting than the first one lol (y’know, vampire stuff, hope we weren’t expecting anything else) ❧ genre: fluff, angst but between friends not our main couple, modern magical creatures au, fantasy au, college au, vampire kun, human reader, ft. various other magical weishens, same universe as strawberry sunday, sequel to romance is dead ❧ extra info: this is a sequel to romance is dead! it cannot be read as a standalone, you must read romance is dead first! this work is set in the same universe as strawberry sunday! there is no continuing plotline between fics in this universe (aside from romance is dead to this one), they simply take place in the same world/magic system and may have overlapping characters (neos may pop up in more than one work!) ❧ author’s note: a second inspiration has hit the author, mr. president

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ explore the strawberry sunday universe more here!

i believe in miracles, something more than physical

“Hey, guys—”

“You know, Kunhang, just write a paper about it in your Philosophy of Magic class, because I’m sick of hearing about it,” you spat at the gryphon sitting across from you, paying Yangyang—who had just walked up and you had cut off—entirely no attention.

“I’m not even in Philosophy of Magic, so—” Kunhang shot back, giving you a smug look.

Yangyang’s bright smile turned to a look of ‘yikes’ as he pivoted on his heel, presumably to make a break from what he had just walked into. Except Ten’s hand darted out to latch onto his forearm and yank him down into a chair at the table.

“Oh, no you don’t,” the siren said through gritted teeth. “This is your fault, you’re going to suffer through it with the rest of us.”

“My fault? How? I just got here.”

Dejun leaned in from across the table, “They’re debating the ethics of blood drinking. Or, Kunhang is at least trying to.”

“And he’s about fifty years late to it in modern academia at least,” Sicheng snorted softly, bringing the straw of his drink up to his mouth.

“That’s also like the first assignment you get in every Intro to MCS class ever.” Yangyang ripped open a ketchup packet to begin squirting it all over his fries. “Why is he—”

All of his friends who weren’t currently hurtling verbal vitriol at each other instead gave him a very frank, pointed look. The witch trailed off.

“Oh. Right.” He picked up a fry that had gotten a bit too much ketchup on it, watching as a glob of the red condiment dripped off it before biting it in half.

You, meanwhile, were this fucking close to storming out of the student union building and keying Kunhang’s car. You weren’t one for violence, but you absolutely were one for vandalism and property damage. And it would be so goddamn cathartic to key his car right about now. After all, this wasn’t the first, nor second, nor even third time that he had tried to philosophize and/or debate you out of your relationship.

Speaking of, you spotted a familiar figure approaching your table, one that was able to dissolve just enough tension and malice from your body in that moment that you decided to save keying Kunhang’s car for another day.

“Oh! Kun!” You lifted your hand to give him a small wave, despite the fact that you definitely knew that he had both seen and smelled you, and was already headed straight for you.

Kunhang noticeably clenched his jaw and shifted back in his seat, clearly upset at your discussion being interrupted. Thankfully, he generally had the decency to not do all this in front of your boyfriend.

Kun offered an enchanting smile as he approached, first picking one of your hands up to kiss the back of it as always, then he pecked your cheek. “Hello, Y/N.”

“Hi, Kun.” Your gaze followed him as he walked around behind you to take the empty seat you’d saved for him in between you and Dejun.

“Good afternoon, everybody,” the vampire nodded to your other friends.

A chorus of ‘Hey, Kun’s came from around the table, save for the gryphon across from you. You stared him down angrily, but he refused to make eye contact with you.

“Did you get held up or something?” You turned your focus to your boyfriend instead, referencing his unusual tardiness to your friend group’s typical late-lunch meetup.

“I had to speak with my professor about a recent test grade. It turns out he entered it in the electronic gradebook wrong. I didn’t expect it to take so long, I’m sorry, my love, I should have texted you to let you know I was going to be late.”

“Kun, it’s okay,” you reassured him, taking his hand in yours and resting them on your lap. “It was just a few minutes.”

“Sucks about your grade, though,” Yangyang added, then stuffing three fries in his mouth at once.

“It’s been corrected, so no harm done.” Kun had an easy smile on his face as he conversed, one that you were happy to see more and more.

“Why even correct it?” Kunhang huffed from his seat, his arms crossed over his chest. “You’re going to live forever, what do grades even matter? You can just take the class again, right? Get another degree, you can get a million degrees, I’m sure you already have a hundred or two. What does this one little grade even matter? What does any of this even matter to you? What do any of us even matter to you?”

“Kunhang, stop it!” You snapped, your grip tightening on Kun’s hand. You knew where that line of questioning was going, or had already gone implicitly. So what did you matter to Kun, then? But you already knew plenty about Kun’s view on life, both the finite and his eternal one, and how much he treasured everything he had now and looked forward to all the changes that were yet to come. Kunhang, of course, knew nothing about that, because this was so far the closest thing he’d had to a real conversation with the vampire since you and Kun had officially started dating.

“This was my midterm test grade, which is a significant portion of the class’s overall grade as this professor only gives three grades: midterm, final, and final paper. If I had to repeat the class, it would affect my current plan to graduate next semester with Y/N and begin my master’s next fall.” Kun, who you would’ve sworn was an actual angel if not for the red eyes, calmly answered only his first question.

“Y/N, seriously? You have life plans with a—”

You finally felt something fully snap inside of you, letting go of Kun’s hand to slam both of your palms on the table and stand up out of your chair. “Just shut the fuck up, Kunhang! You’re not him! You know that, right? You’re not him, so just stop it already!”

Kunhang’s nostrils flared as he stared you right back down, his grey eyes swirling like storm clouds. Then he grabbed his backpack off the ground and stormed out of the student union, knocking his chair so far back in his haste that it hit a student sitting at the table behind you.

You were still rooted to the same spot, your hands flat against the table, leaning over it, your eyes glued to the doors that the gryphon had left through. Your chest heaved as you caught your breath, feeling the anger tingling in the tips of your fingers and your toes like electricity.

“Do you… want to talk about it?” Ten asked quietly, hesitantly.

“No,” you answered flatly, grabbing your own bag and taking off in the opposite direction.

Hot tears were already pricking at your eyes before you pushed open the door to leave the building, and you couldn’t even make it to the sidewalk that wrapped around the main block of campus before the tears gathering in your vision made it too hard to see.

You stopped at a bench, looking around hopefully and letting out a rather pitiful, “Kun?”

He emerged from the crowd of students just a moment later, relief flashing across his face for a moment before a deep line set between his brows again as he came to sit beside you. You immediately buried your face in his neck, and he wrapped his arms around you, resting a hand on the back of your head.

“There you are, my love,” he murmured. “I’m sorry I was late again.”

You let out a strangled giggle into the material of his sweatervest at that. Turning your head so your words wouldn’t be so muffled, you joked, “It’s okay, I was kind of running away.”

“Still, I should be faster than you.”

“Mm, good point.”

You were still crying, the tears falling down your cheeks one after another. But you didn’t want to keep crying on campus with the sounds of other people walking by. While you certainly weren’t the first person to cry on this bench—nor would you be the last—you didn’t want to prolong your stint there any longer.

“Kun?” You mumbled his name.

“Yes, Y/N?”

“Can you take me home please?”

“Of course.”

“Your home,” you clarified.

He shifted to hold you just a bit tighter to him. “Of course, my love.”

At Kun’s house, you were sat on his plush olive-green couch, your knees pulled up to your chest as you blew on a mug of hot tea that he had just handed you. Both of you were fresh out of a nice relaxing bath, with comfy clothes on courtesy of your boyfriend, who had also insisted on making you a cup of calming tea. You did make him promise that it wasn’t one of those spiked blends that witches sold. He assured you it was just regular old chamomile that you could pick up at a human supermarket.

Kun sat down beside you, resting an arm along the back of the couch behind you. You continued listlessly staring at the surface of the tea, watching the ripples on the surface as you blew across it.

“Kunhang wasn’t even my best friend first, you know?” You said abruptly into the quiet.

Kun took it in stride, asking curiously, “Whose was he, then?”

“My brother’s.”

“Your… brother’s…” He repeated slowly, and you knew exactly what he was thinking about: when he had met your immediate family just a few weeks ago, your mom and dad. No siblings.

“Yeah, Kunhang’s family lived across the street. They were inseparable growing up. It was practically like having two big brothers,” you recalled fondly, a bittersweet smile playing across your lips for a moment before it fell off completely at what was coming next. “Then after the funeral, Kunhang and I would check up on each other. Calls, texts, getting lunch, ‘wow you’re graduating already I can’t believe you’ve gotten so big,’ and we just kind of never stopped.”

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.” Kun ran a gentle, cool knuckle up your cheek to catch a stray tear. You grabbed his hand to hold it instead, giving it a tight squeeze.

“What are you apologizing for?” You sniffled, a hint of playfulness in your tone as you echoed the words he’d said to you when he’d told you about his parents’ passing.

“Isn’t that what you say? I’m sorry for your loss?” He murmured back, clearly aware of the same déjà vu, but with no sense of irony or humor to the words.

“Yeah, I am too.” You finally took a sip of the tea, and immediately let out a hiss. Too hot still. “Anyway, I actually think everyone was expecting that Kunhang and I were going to end up together but he’s just… it’s not like that. And I think he thinks his job is to be my brother now. To watch over me since… my brother can’t anymore.”

“‘You’re not him…’” Kun repeated in recognition.

“I know… that probably hurt him a lot.” You gnawed on your bottom lip regretfully as you imagined the kind of pain those words must have put your friend through. “But I wish he could just get it through his stupid bird brain that he doesn’t have to do that. All I need him to be is my friend.”

Kun rubbed his thumb over yours tenderly. “Have you told him that?”

“No, no I haven’t,” you admitted, reluctantly realizing that you unfortunately weren’t entirely faultless in this. Or, at least that you could be doing much more to patch things up instead of expecting Kunhang to just read your mind.

“Maybe try that?” He suggested.

“Okay, yeah. You’re right.” You lifted the mug to your lips once more, then immediately spat the tea back out. “God, Kun! Did you get the water for this from the surface of the fucking Sun? What the fuck?!”

“The Sun is far too hot to maintain liquid water,” he deadpanned, earning a frank glare from you.

“You’re hilarious. You and Kunhang should do stand-up together if he ever gets the mile-long stick out of his ass.”

“He should see a doctor about that.”

You shifted forward to set the mug down on the ornately carved cherry wood coffee table. “Don’t worry, I’m going to take care of it tomorrow.”

“You’re such a Good Samaritan.”

Kun enveloped you in his arms as you turned around to wrap yours around him, resting your head on his chest. He laid the both of you down on the couch, pulling a blanket down off the back to lay it over you. You liked laying like this, because despite everyone else telling you that vampires were technically dead, when you and Kun were like this, you could hear him breathing in and out—and yes maybe that was just for him to keep track of smells like the apex predator he technically was, but it’s not like you didn’t do the same thing; take an extra deep inhale when you were here, wearing his clothes, in his home, being held by him. And you could hear something beating in his chest, too. What was it pumping, to where, and for what purpose, you didn’t know, or really care. All you knew was that despite it all, Kun was right here, with you, and you could hear that, feel that, know that, and know that he always would be, even after you were gone.

“Kun?” You looked up at him, your chest getting warm and tight when you realized that he had already been gazing down at you.

“Yes?” He traced your jawline with one finger seemingly absentmindedly, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Kiss me?”

“Ah, how could I resist?” He tilted your chin up as he bent his neck to connect his cool lips with your warm ones.

In the morning, you finally woke up, sitting up and stretching out what felt like a decade of tension from your body. You always felt like you got the best sleep of your life at Kun’s place thanks to his carefully acquired silk sheets and vampire-level blackout curtains. Blindly reaching out in the dark for the other side of the bed, you were disappointed to find it empty. Figures, Kun never slept in, if he even slept at all. Well, you could at least turn a light on. You turned exactly one bedside wall sconce on—which you guessed was probably originally meant to be for oil but Kun had retrofitted to be electric—and immediately spotted a folded piece of paper standing up on your nightstand.

Propping yourself up on an elbow, you grabbed the small piece of cardstock, unfolding it and holding it up to the sconce to be able to read the neat script that was on it. Rubbing sleep out of your eyes, a smile spread across your lips as you recognized it as another poem from Kun. An Italian sonnet, if you weren’t mistaken. He would still pen you verses at random intervals, but at least never gave them when there was a risk of your nosy friends being around.

You read it through one more time before setting it back on the nightstand and swinging your feet over the side of the bed. After first shuffling to the bathroom, you then shuffled to the bedroom door.

You found a full fare of breakfast already set up at the kitchen table, but no vampire in sight. Huh. Usually even if he wasn’t going to eat, he would at least sit with you and read a book or chat with you while you ate.

Loading up a few pieces of fruit and finger foods onto a plate, you took your breakfast to go into the living room to look for your boyfriend. He was a quick find, at least, sitting at his producing desk. His head was bobbing along to whatever he was listening to, sitting cross-legged in his desk chair as he leaned forward on both elbows on the desk. Which was probably why he couldn’t hear or feel you approaching until you laid a hand on his back.

Kun’s shoulders jumped as he startled and whipped around, pulling his headphones off. You couldn’t help but laugh at his wide, surprised eyes. It wasn’t often that you could give a vampire a scare, after all.

He put a hand over his chest, a relieved smile coming to his face, “Oh, it’s just you, Y/N. You startled me.”

“Clearly,” you snickered, popping a grape in your mouth. You rubbed your hand up and down his back. “What are you working on?”

“Oh, nothing.” He quickly minimized the tabs on his screens.

“And that’s not suspicious at all,” you snorted. “But fine, you want to do a little secret project, go for it.”

“You found breakfast.” Kun smiled up at you, gesturing to your plate of food.

“Changing the subject, also not suspicious. But yes, I did. The poem, too. Thank you for both.”

“Also, good morning, my love.”

“Good morning, Kun.” You cupped his cheek to pull him into a good morning kiss. “Are you hungry?”

He shook his head. “No, that’s all yours.”

“Not what I meant. You didn’t feed last night, unless you had some supplement this morning before I woke up.”

“We were talking about a delicate subject. Not exactly the time to ask to bite you, I think.”

“You never ask to bite me. I always have to offer.”

“Well—”

“Do I not taste good, Kun?” You asked humorously, mock offense in your tone.

He seemed at a loss for words, caught between not wanting to insult you and not wanting you to feel obligated to let him feed on you. “That’s not—”

“I’m kidding, hon,” you tossed another piece of fruit in your mouth. Stroking a thumb over his cheekbone, you reiterated firmly, “But are you hungry? And be honest with me, Qian Kun. You know that if you need to feed, all you have to do is ask.”

“You eat first,” he covered your hand that was on his face with his, and offered you a small smile. “Then I will. Okay?”

After finishing your plate of food, you were back in Kun’s bedroom, sat in a plush, oversized armchair with him. He had you in between his legs, your back flush to his front with both arms around your waist. You leaned back against him contentedly, resting your head against his as you rubbed circles into his inner thigh with your thumb.

“You always get quiet right before… What goes on up there every time?” You murmured, threading the fingers of your other hand through the hair at the back of his head. “Angsting about being a monster? Contemplating about your soul being damned? Indulge me, Kun.”

He let out a short laugh at your dramatics, his cold breath laugh blowing over the exposed skin of your neck, and his chest vibrating against you. “No, nothing like that. I’ve long disposed of thoughts like that about what I am, thankfully.”

“Good. Then what is it?” You dropped your hand and craned your head to be able to see his profile.

Even in the dim light afforded by the single wall sconce, you could see the warmth flickering in his scarlet irises as his gaze met yours. “I just stop to appreciate the moment, to appreciate you. I want to make sure I’ll never forget how lucky I am to have you.”

You closed the small gap between you, pressing your lips to his. Kun kissed you back unhurriedly, mouth moving against yours tenderly. It was you that moved to deepen the kiss, parting your lips. Always one to indulge you, he swiped his tongue against yours, cool and familiar. You didn’t break apart until you needed to breathe again, and even then, exchanged a handful more open-mouthed kisses full of tongue and teeth. Kun kept kissing a wet trail from your mouth to your jaw, then behind your ear, then down your neck. You let your head fall back on his shoulder as he stopped to press several kisses over one spot in particular. His deep inhale was audible. Anticipation pulsed through your body with every beat of your heart.

Your hand hadn’t stopped smoothing circles into his leg, and your grip on him tightened as you were alight with excitement. One of his hands reached out to lace with your free hand and wrap back around your waist.

Then, with one more gentle brush of his lips against your pulse point, he bit you. The familiar sharp piercing of his fangs breaking skin came first, followed by a sweet, soothing ecstasy that spread out from the bite through the entirety of your body. You shifted slightly to relax further back into him, a noise between a hum and sigh coming from your mouth. Kun squeezed your hand that he was holding, and you were quick to squeeze it back, an easy way for him to check in on you while he was drinking from you. If your grip wasn’t as strong as he’d like, or you failed to respond at all, he would’ve stopped entirely for fear of overdrinking. And if you ever wanted him to stop, you just had to squeeze his hand twice in row. You’d never had to use that signal once, nor did you ever imagine that you would; Kun was always a perfect gentleman before, during, and after, never coming close to overfeeding. If anything, you were sure that he erred on the side of underfeeding himself and supplementing with the artificial blood he kept in his fridge.

Kun’s mouth sucked the tender area as his tongue smoothed over the two rivulets draining from you. Another soft sound came from you as you reached up to grab his head, holding him there by the hair. You could feel him chuckle fondly against your neck, the vibrations thrumming through your body.

Like always, it was over much too soon for your liking. He took his mouth from your skin, pressing one more tender kiss to the spot where he bit before disconnecting entirely. Kun gently unwound your fingers from his hair and reluctantly unlaced his hand that was holding yours. He kept his arms around you, though, as he reached over to the short table that was beside the chair and grabbed a small tin no bigger than the palm of his hand.

Twisting the lid off, he leaned all the way back in the chair, encouraging you to sit back against him, turned just slightly to the side. He gently applied the salve to the bite, and you let your eyes flutter shut as you enjoyed the feeling of cool fingers running over the sensitive area. Sometimes you didn’t let him apply the bite salve, enjoying the look of a vampire bite on your neck for a few days. But today could not be one of those days, which you both knew very well. Not with who you’d have to go talk to soon after this.

When he was done, Kun closed the tin back up and set it aside once more, rubbing the remaining product into his own hands before wrapping his arms around you and resting his chin on the opposite shoulder from where he’d just bit.

The smell of rosemary wafted up to your nose from the bite salve, and you contentedly rested your head against Kun’s. The wound would close up and heal in just a couple minutes now, leaving behind no trace of the bite.

“How do you feel?” He murmured right beside your ear.

“Mm, great,” you answered truthfully, playing with his fingers. “How about you?”

“Good, I’m good.” He pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek. “Thank you, Y/N. My miracle…”

You trudged up a hill, wiping away a bead of sweat that had gathered on your brow. When you’d gone to Kunhang and Yangyang’s apartment after breakfast that morning, you’d only been able to find the witch. He’d informed you that your gryphon friend had taken off early to go flying, but hadn’t told Yangyang where. Lucky for you, you knew exactly where he’d be anyway. Kunhang’s favorite flying spot was a park near your old neighborhood which had been made a specifically designated fly space. It was several square miles where no planes, helicopters, drones, or even kites could be flown to make it safe for gryphons, phoenixes, and other flying beings to stretch out their wings. It doubled as a nature preserve with walking trails, benches, and posted signs protecting the wildlife and plants.

You’d already caught sight of your target back on the walking trails, and were now chasing him down at a severe disadvantage on foot. Finally reaching the clearing he was doing the majority of his aerial tricks above, you stopped and looked up at him, using a hand to shield your face from the sun.

“Kunhang!” You called out to your friend, who was currently somersaulting through the air, powerful grey wings stretched out behind him.

He looked down at you, then pretended not to hear you, swooping down into a backflip.

“Kunhang, come on!” You yelled out desperately. “I-I want to apologize! Please!”

He stopped in midair at that, a fair distance above you. You had to crane your neck up to look at him.

“You want to apologize?” He looked down at you in disbelief.

“Yes! Now would you get down here so we don’t have to have this entire conversation shouting at each other? Again.”

“No.” He dropped down to hover just in front of you. “But you can come up.”

“What?”

“Come on, you know the drill.” He was now stood on the ground with two feet.

“And I’m also not seven anymore,” you scoffed.

“You’re the one who wanted to talk.”

“Fine.” With a roll of your eyes, you wrapped your arms around Kunhang’s shoulders.

“God, no need to choke me out.” He made a mock choking sound, pulling at your arms to loosen your grip on him. “If I pass out, we’re both going down, you know.”

You pinched the skin on the back of his neck. “Just fly, stupid.”

And with that, Kunhang pushed up off the ground, his powerful wings easily lifting the both of you up higher and higher. Your flight didn’t last long, just until your friend had reached a tree branch he deemed suitable for the both of you to sit on, high above everything else, your feet swinging below you. The two of you were side-by-side, his wings folded up behind him.

“I’m sorry,” you started, making sure to hold your end of the promise first. “For what I said to you in the student union yesterday. It was a really shitty thing of me to say, and I don’t want you to think for a second that I don’t appreciate you and everything you’ve done for me, Kunhang.”

The gryphon was quiet next to you, and you took him not flying off as a good sign.

“While I shouldn’t have said it to you like that, I need you to understand: You do not have to be my brother.”

You heard him breathe in sharply, like he was about to say something back, but you pushed on.

“For you to think that you’ve had to not only carry the burden of your grief, but mine, and that kind of responsibility, for all these years… I don’t want you to think you have to shoulder all of that. Because you don’t.” You took your eyes off of the leaves in front of you and finally looked over at him. He was staring straight ahead, his mouth a hard line but you saw the tears gathering in his eyes. Your eyes were stinging with bitter tears of your own, and you continued through the lump in your throat, “I need you to listen to me when I say this, Kunhang. I am relieving you of that, okay? Please, let it go. You are not failing me, or him, to just be my friend. I need you to be my friend. My best friend, in the whole world, okay? Can you please do that?”

Kunhang still wasn’t saying anything, but you saw a tear finally slip down his cheek, and his bottom lip trembled. You reached out to hesitantly take his hand, and were surprised when he squeezed yours back with an iron grip.

“I had a brother, and he was great. And he’s gone now.” Your voice cracked over the word ‘gone,’ which was when your friend finally looked at you, and you gave him a bittersweet smile. “And that’s okay. You can’t help either of us hold onto him by becoming him. So can you please let it go? Just let the weight on your shoulders go?”

The gryphon’s brow creased with concern as he finally spoke, “Then who’s going to look out for you, Y/N?”

“Did he ask you to? Look out for me?”

Kunhang nodded.

You looked up towards the sky and gave a cynical but fond chuckle. “Of course he did. You can look out for me, Kunhang. But there’s a difference between looking out for me, and blatantly treating me like a child who can’t be trusted to make her own decisions. I think that’s what’s been hurting me the most. It’s fine that maybe you’re a little iffy about Kun, he’s a vampire that you don’t really know—well, Yangyang kind of does, but whatever, he’s Yangyang.”

That earned you a choked giggle from your friend, and you chuckled a little as well.

“That little bit of suspicion over your friend’s new boyfriend is normal, even welcome sometimes, except you’ve been making me feel like you don’t trust me. Like you think that I’m stupid or something.” You explained with a sigh, disappointment coloring your voice.

“Y/N, I’m sorry. I hadn’t thought about it like that,” Kunhang admitted, looking at you wistfully. “I don’t think you’re some stupid little kid, by any means. You’ve grown up into such a smart, incredible person that I know your brother is proud of, and that I’m proud of, too, like you’re my own sister.”

“Then act like it, dude,” you scoffed, using your free hand to give him a light smack on the head. “You’ve been making all these assumptions about Kun, and about our relationship, and you refuse to even listen to me or actually like properly sit down and talk to him to see what we’re like together. You want to be the dependable older brother friend? You’ve got to put in the work being you know, dependable, not just be a moody piece of shit about new boyfriends.”

“Okay, I deserve that.”

“Uh-huh.”

“But come on, it’s not like he’s new, I mean, he is hundreds of years old.”

“I would shove you out of this tree if I didn’t think you’d take me down with you.”

“So like...” he grimaced. “Does he drink your blood?”

You let go of his hand to cross your arms, and looked Kunhang dead in the eye. “Do you actually want the answer to that?”

The gryphon’s eyes widened comically. “He does?! Y/N!”

“Kunhang, what did we just talk about?”

“Right. Sorry. Uhm... so... tell me about it? I guess?” Each word sounded like its own question, like he was forcing it out.

“Again, do you actually want me to?”

“No,” he answered quickly, a shudder going down his spine. “Just tell me whatever will be reassuring, please.”

You laughed. “Okay. It doesn’t hurt me, seriously. Uh... Kun’s diet is still mostly synthetic blood replacement, and he’ll probably never fully rely on live feeding from me, even after we move in together. Since he’s... old he can control his hunger and his feedings very well. He’s never overfed from me and never will. Happy?”

“You’re moving in together?”

“That’s what you got from that?”

“I know you, Y/N. You thought you could sneak that in among all that blood drinking talk to distract me.” He waggled a finger disapprovingly at you.

“God, fine, Kunhang.” You rolled your eyes. “When my lease is up at the end of next semester, Kun and I have discussed moving in together. But that’s still months away, no need to get your feathers in a bunch yet.”

“How long have you two been dating?”

“Kunhang—”

“I’m just gathering data.” He held his hands up defensively.

“Whatever. You want to gather data? Come over to Kun’s for dinner tonight.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, giving you a feigned apologetic grimace. “Ooh, sorry, I actually just drank some blood for breakfast, so I was going to get some sushi—”

“Save it for open mic night. He’s cooking food and you can bring Yangyang.”

“Sounds great! What time?”

“What are you so dressed up for?” You quirked an eyebrow up when you caught sight of Kun re-emerging from the bedroom in a fresh button-up shirt and pair of dress slacks. “It’s just Kunhang and Yangyang.”

The vampire went back to the pan that he had been tending to on the stove. “I’m hosting dinner at my house, for one. And for some reason that I can’t seem to put my finger on, this feels like a meet-the-parents part two.”

You scoffed at that little jest at the end. “You’ve met Kunhang before.”

“And I got this weird feeling that he didn’t like me.”

“Oh, was it the death glares or all the times I told you he was trying to talk me out of dating you that clued you in?”

He chuckled. “Still, it can’t hurt to want to make a good impression.”

You came up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your chin on his shoulder. “It’s going to be fine, hon. I’m here, and Yangyang will be too, which I think will actually help for once.”

“That is a scary thought.”

“You know, I think we give him too little credit sometimes.”

“Who? Yangyang?”

“Yes.”

“And why is that?”

“If it weren’t for his ineptitude, we wouldn’t have gotten together.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that.” Kun set his spatula down and turned around. He readjusted the collar of your shirt, tender gaze tracing over your features. “Now, call me superstitious, but—”

You couldn’t help but giggle at the concept of a vampire being superstitious. A soft smile played across Kun’s lips before he continued.

“—but I think that we would have found each other without the love potion. I don’t know which one of our choices would have eventually made the life that finally brought us together like this, but I think they would. My miracle...” He cupped your cheeks, pulling you in for a gentle, sweet kiss.

While you never wanted this moment to end, the faint, acrid smell of something burning wafted up to your nose, and before you had fully processed that, Kun was already pulling back from the kiss. He cursed under his breath, turning around and pulling the pan off the burner, quickly flipping the food over. You peeked around him to look, seeking a few spots that were a bit blackened.

“Sorry…” You pecked his cheek sheepishly before stepping back fully to leave the kitchen.

Kunhang and Yangyang arrived soon after, the witch almost immediately, and predictably, making a crack about Kun’s house looking like a yard sale, which the gryphon found hilarious. Soon, though, you were seated for dinner, Kun dishing up food for everybody then taking his seat beside you.

“I do have to apologize, one side got a little too crispy,” Kun bowed his head apologetically as everybody had picked up their utensils. “I did my best to alleviate it after the fact, but there may still be some burned areas.”

“Oh, and what were you two doing?” Kunhang waggled his eyebrows, lifting his fork to his mouth.

“Mm?” Your boyfriend didn’t look up from cutting up his food. “Ah, I was changing my shirt and Y/N was setting the table so neither of us were paying attention.”

You opted not to respond, busying yourself with taking a deep sip of your water.

Your gryphon friend dropped his fork back onto his plate with a clatter, disgust on his face. “Y/N, I can hear your heartbeat! Gross!”

“I keep telling you, Kunhang, don’t ask questions that you don’t want the answers to!” You snapped back, pointing a finger at him accusatorily.

“It was just a joke!”

“Play stupid games, win stupid prizes!”

Yangyang pushed the food on his plate around with his own fork. “Suddenly I’m not hungry…”

“Oh my god, it’s perfectly sanitary, don’t be dramatic.” You smacked his arm. “It’s either eat it or starve, Yangyang.”

And with that, the witch was back to shoveling food in his mouth. “Don’t have to tell me twice. This is great, Kun!”

Your boyfriend sighed and shook his head. “Thanks, Yangyang.”

After dinner, you knew that Kun was going to start habitually clearing the table, but you already had a plan in mind.

“Kunhang, have you seen Kun’s PC setup?” You asked casually, grabbing yours and Kun’s empty plates before the vampire could. You knew damn well that Kunhang hadn’t seen the computer in his stubborn crusade to avoid Kun at all costs.

The gryphon’s features perked up minutely in interest. “No. Is it a custom build?”

Kun nodded as he reached for a glass. “Yes, it is. I can show you after I—”

But you swiped the glass just before his fingertips could brush it. “You two can go look at it. Yangyang and I have got clean up. Right, Yang?”

To your surprise, the witch gave a thumbs-up from where he was reclined casually in his dining chair, pushing it back to balance just on the rear two feet. “Yeah, all good. Go talk nerd shit.”

“Are you sure?” Your boyfriend asked you, a visible frown on his features over leaving you with clean-up duty.

“Of course. You cooked, we can do the dishes,” you reassured him with a bright smile.

“Alright, thank you.” He pecked your cheek before leading Kunhang out of the dining room.

Once you felt comfortable that you were no longer in the gryphon’s and vampire’s magical earshot, you looked to Yangyang with a curious head tilt.

“So why’d you let me volunteer you for dish duty with no complaints?”

“I knew what you were doing,” he said with a shrug, and stood up to help clear the table. “I don’t like pissy Kunhang anymore than you do, so whatever you think will help.”

“Thanks, Yangyang.” You smiled at your friend sincerely, carrying your stack of plates and utensils over to the sink. “Do you mind putting the leftovers away and I’ll wash the dishes? Heads up, there is blood supplement in the fridge, but it’s synthetic, I promise. If that’s too weird, you can just put everything in containers and I’ll put it away after I’m done washing.”

“I don’t mind, I’ve dealt with grosser. Witch, remember?”

“Right, thanks.”

As Yangyang spooned the little leftover food that there was into a container, you rinsed off the dishes and loaded up the dishwasher.

“So you’re really cool with all this, huh?” Yangyang commented as he opened the fridge up.

“All what?” You asked curiously. “Kun being a vampire? Having to keep my food next to my boyfriend’s synthetic blood? I mean, I grew up with Kunhang and other magical creatures, remember?”

“Fair.” He put the food in and shut the appliance again, leaning against the counter next to you. “So, do you think you could ever do it?”

At your blank stare, Yangyang added on, “Drink blood. I mean, technically you already drank Kun’s in the love potion, but you know, willingly, and a lot of it. If you were to become a vampire, and I’m not even asking existentially about living forever or anything, just the diet. Do you think you could do it? If worst came to worst and blood supplements and synthetic blood were no longer available.”

The witch had a grin on his face like the two of you were giggling kids playing Would You Rather at a sleepover and talking about your crushes, not the actual question he had just posed to you. You chewed on your bottom lip as you thought, still washing a few more pots and cooking utensils from the night.

“I… don’t know,” you answered honestly. “I mean, that all kind of changes when you become a vampire, right? Like, your taste preferences. There’s not a lot of people drinking blood before they turn into vampires, at least.”

“Fewer, for sure.”

“Yeah, I uh, I don’t know, Yang. Would you? Can witches even become vampires?”

“Unfortunately, no,” he sighed wistfully, then turned giddy, “But wouldn’t that be badass? A witch vampire? Vampire witch? God, that’d be so cool!”

“Why can’t witches become vampires? I know you guys aren’t technically humans, but… like, do you know what makes it not work?”

“There’s a lot of theories. As a witch, I’m of course inclined to believe that nature favors balance. A being can only be one kind of magic thing. Humans aren’t magic, but once you guys become something magic, same rule applies to you, no double-dipping, no getting greedy.”

“Seems like a pretty good theory to me.”

Yangyang nodded towards the living room then, “You think it’s been enough time for them to bond over CPU specs or whatever?”

“Probably?” You said. “I’m just glad dinner went as smooth as it did. I hope I wasn’t pushing it with putting them alone in a room together.”

“We haven’t heard shouting or the sound of Kunhang’s neck snapping yet, so that’s a good sign.”

You gave him an unamused look. “You’re truly an optimist.”

“It would totally be self-defense on Kun’s part.”

“Still not helping.”

“Anyway, I’ve got to pee, so—” He pointed down the hall to the guest bathroom, and you nodded with a small smile at your friend’s familiar bluntness.

“Don’t drown in there, Yang.”

He stuck his tongue out at you before disappearing from your sight.

You took a deep breath, steeling your nerves to enter the living room yourself. Coming around the corner, you saw Kun and Kunhang sitting on the main couch together, on opposite ends. Their body language looked relaxed, conversational, and a relieved, genuine smile came to your face as you looked over the two of them.

“Uh-oh, what’s this? The Annual Bad Joke Conference?” You teased, making your way over to perch yourself on the arm of the couch next to Kun, resting an arm on his shoulders. He wrapped his own around your waist, settling his hand on your hip.

“Yes, and now that our keynote speaker is here, we can begin,” Kunhang ribbed you right back.

“Oof.” You clutched at your chest like you’d been stabbed. “I’ve been wounded.”

“I was actually asking Kun about his grad program he’s looking at,” your friend explained, gesturing to your boyfriend.

Kun nodded heartily. “Yes, I was detailing my current predicament about with it being only a one-year master’s, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to work right after or look into finding another one-year master’s to complete since your master’s program will be two years long.”

“Oh, don’t fucking remind me that May isn’t the end right now,” you groaned, dropping your forehead onto the top of Kun’s head.

“Right. My apologies, my love.” He rubbed your back comfortingly.

“Hey, Kun?” Yangyang’s voice floated into the room then, and you picked your head back up to see him walking in.

“Yes, Yangyang?”

“Uh, I really hate to do this, but I kind of accidentally mentioned I was coming over when I was visiting my coven today, and my Grandma asked me to ask you for something?”

“No more blood. I told you, after the love potion, you and your whole coven simply must get your vampire blood from somewhere else.”

“Yeah, I know. And they know. Trust me, I’m never living that one down at sacraments. Uh, no, Grandma told me to ask you for a book back? She said it’s red, about the size of your hand, gold on the edges of the pages?”

“Did she tell you what it’s called?”

“She said you’d know what it was?”

“What… oh.”

You frowned at the concerned look on Kun’s face. “What? What is it?”

“It’s a cursed book of fairytales. I don’t know how Yangyang’s grandmother had acquired it in the first place, but it was wreaking havoc on the coven some years ago. Lures in any children nearby, they couldn’t risk even having it there in a spellbox. She gave it to me for safekeeping,” he explained, looking over to the witch. “Why does she want it back?”

“No clue. Better not to ask questions with her.”

“Yes, I’m aware. Well, it should definitely be around here… somewhere.” Kun stood up with a sigh, looking around the living room. “If not in here, then probably the library, or the bedroom… or the guest room… or the attic. I definitely still have it, I kept it when I moved in here, I know that much.”

Yangyang gave him a skeptical look. “I’ll help you look.”

“Thanks. I don’t feel anything in here, we should start in the library.” The vampire nodded towards the other room. “Alright now, Yangyang, if you think you’ve found it, don’t touch it, you’ll reactivate the curse.”

“I know how curses work! Witch, remember?”

“Witch who puts his potions in Gorgonade bottles! Remember?”

As the two of them headed off, still bickering, you and Kunhang just looked at each other, bursting into giggles at the same time.

“He’s totally going to forget and touch it if it finds it.” You shook your head, sliding down onto the main couch cushions.

“Yeah, he’d be all ‘Look, Kun, I found it!’” Kunhang zealously imitated his roommate yanking a book off a shelf. “And then bam, get cursed like an idiot.”

“I hope that thing’s in the attic. I don’t want to think that I could’ve been almost accidentally cursing myself this whole time.”

“Yikes. Better have Yangyang ask his grandma if Kun is hanging onto anything else for her.”

“Why do you think she wants it back?”

“You never know with Grandma Liu.”

You nodded, silent as you pondered this for a moment, having never met anybody from Yangyang’s coven, much less his grandmother, the matriarch of it. Kunhang left the silence alone for a while before he finally spoke again.

“Okay, fine. He’s not so bad,” he admitted with a half-hearted eyeroll.

“What finally did it?” You asked curiously.

“What do you mean?”

“Come on, what was it? What finally convinced you?”

“He’s a pretty good cook.”

“Your stomach, of course.”

“Hey—”

“Look, I’m just glad this is all resolved now,” you grinned, scooting closer to him to wrap an arm around him.

Your friend threw an arm and a wing over your shoulders, pulling you in closer. “Yeah, me too. You deserve something so… good. I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks, Kunhang.” You rubbed his back. “Seriously, for everything.”

Later that night, after you and Kun had seen Yangyang and Kunhang off at the front door with the cursed book in a DIY magic biohazard disposal container consisting of several garbage bags, glass tupperwares, and gloves for the witch to wear while he carried it, then finished tidying up the kitchen. Now you two were sat on the couch, quietly absorbed in your own activities as music streamed from his record player. It was some obscure, limited press record that Kun had picked up on a whim at one of the band’s shows decades ago now; a Google search for the album or band name didn’t even turn up any results. You were reclined in a half-laying position reading by the light of a lamp, intent on finishing all of The Complete Works of Sherlock Holmes, while Kun was tinkering with the settings of a new camera he had bought the other day. How well he could calibrate it in his darkened living room, you didn’t know, but you were content to let him fiddle with it in peace so long as he let you keep your legs in his lap.

You were faintly aware of him occasionally taking pictures of the objects around the room, and of you, and lifted the book even high to cover more of your face.

“Kun...” You said his name with a hint of warning, not taking your eyes off your page.

“What?” Another shutter click.

“You have to have a million photos of me by now.”

“Maybe I want a million and one.” Another click. “Okay, maybe a million and two.”

You smiled to yourself as you continued reading, and Kun pointed the lens elsewhere to test the flash. As you came to a good stopping point at the end of one of the short stories, you laid the attached ribbon bookmark in between the pages and shut the book. You watched Kun fuss with the settings for a few moments, amused and endeared as he would sometimes point the lens and make an adjustment without even taking a picture, and sometimes take several photos, look at them, then change something.

“So, what were you and Kunhang talking about?” You asked him as nonchalantly as possible.

He snapped around to look at you. “Hm?”

“I’ve known that man my whole life. I know when he’s bullshitting me,” you informed him, not a hint of anger or malice in your tone. “Very kind of you to go along with it in the moment, by the way.”

“I’m sorry, he stressed that he really didn’t want you to know,” Kun apologized sincerely, setting his camera down on the coffee table.

“What did he tell you? If it was about the first time I went flying, I didn’t throw up everywhere, and really he was the one who—”

“He wanted to ask me something, and you really must tell me this story at a later time.”

“Oh.” You looked around awkwardly. “What did he ask you?”

He focused his red eyes on you, a much more serious air descending on the conversation and his tone. “If I was going to turn you, or if I ever would.”

“Oh God, Kun, I’m sorry.” You shot up into a proper sitting position. “We don’t even live together, he shouldn’t have been asking you if we’ve talked about eternity. As if that’s even his business in the first place anyway.”

“He seemed very concerned about your view on mortality since your brother’s passing,” your boyfriend explained with what you knew were his carefully chosen words. No way Kunhang had that kind of tact.

“He thinks I’m dating a vampire to cope with my brother dying. Great armchair psychology.”

“I don’t think that. I remember when you said that you’re okay with not being here forever. When we went to the video gallery during the love potion incident.”

“Look, I can’t lie and say that it doesn’t bring me comfort to know that you’re not going to get hit by a bus tomorrow and die, or get cancer, or some other horrible illness and die a slow painful death while all I can do is watch. Like that’s… definitely a plus.” You admitted with a chuckle, taking one of Kun’s hands in both of yours. “But that’s not why I’m dating you. And I’m definitely not dating you in hopes that one day you’ll turn me. Like I said, we don’t even live together— eternity, or lack thereof, is not a conversation to be had yet.”

Kun nodded, brushing his thumb over the backs of your fingers. “I believe that’s a fair assessment. I’m of course content to take this at whatever pace you want, Y/N. I’m just glad to have the honor of being in your life, for however long that may be.”

“So what did you tell Kunhang? Because he seemed awfully happy with himself after you two talked.”

He paused, looking down at your entwined hands, then back up at you. “Do you remember how I was turned?”

“You broke your leg and the broken bone nicked an artery. Your friend turned you to save your life because you were bleeding out,” you summarized the gist of the full story, which you’d finally heard some time after you’d started dating.

“I told him I’d never take the choice from you. He seemed to like that answer.”

You let out a small sigh of relief. Honestly, you had half expected Kunhang to flip out at any possibility of Kun being willing to turn you. Seems like he really had listened to you this afternoon.

You pressed a kiss to Kun’s cheek. “Thank you, Kun. I like that answer, too. But again, I am so sorry he put you on the spot like that.”

“Y/N…” Kun murmured, bringing his free hand to gently caress your face. “I know I just said that I’m content to take this at whatever pace you’re comfortable with. And that is true. But I want you to know… that after so long, I know what I want, and because of that it was so easy to fall in love with you. So I’m ready for whatever you’re ready for, whenever you’re ready. You want to move in together? Okay. You want to get three cats? Okay. You want to talk about forever? That will have to be more conversations than the cats, but sure, we can talk about it, talk about a plan.”

“Kun…” You breathed his name out, tightening your hold on his hand in hopes that could convey even a fraction of all the tongue-tied words you couldn’t figure out how to say in that moment.

“I’m sorry, that was too much.” He shook his head at himself.

“No, no. It wasn’t,” you reassured him. “But, I’m not ready to talk about forever right now… I-I don’t even have my bachelor’s yet.”

“That’s okay. Like I said, I want whatever pace you want. I just want you, for however long that’ll be.” He brought your hands up to leave a feather-light kiss on your fingers.

“But the fact that you would be ready to talk about forever…” You let go of his hand entirely to loop your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to press your lips to his. His hands easily settled on your waist and lower back as you felt him melt into the kiss.

When you finally needed air—as Kun could theoretically go on for eternity—you then rested your forehead against his. “I love you, a lot, Kun. I do know that.”

“I love you, too.” Kun ran his fingertips up and down your back. “And know that I really do mean a plan for before forever. You wouldn’t say the word and I’d turn you the next second or anything hasty like that. But, you said you’re not ready to talk about it, so I will shut up now.”

You smiled to yourself at his almost nervous clarification, as if he were worried that he’d scare you off. It was endearing, to get glimpses like this where even his hundreds of years of living hadn’t prepared him for whatever was happening, and his usually calm, smooth words failed him even just for a moment. You pressed a long kiss to his temple.

After a beat, you pulled back enough to see all of his face. “Then, maybe let’s start with moving in?”

“Really?” He grinned, dimples appearing on both cheeks.

“Yeah… I’m already over here so much my apartment is practically just a really expensive storage unit at this point.”

“I’ll have to make room… for… your things…” He looked around his rather maximalist living room as if taking in just how much stuff he had for the first time.

“I need to downsize anyway.” You tried to reassure him casually.

“No, I’ll make room.”

At the anxiety growing on his face, you started rubbing his arm reassuringly. “We’ve got a few months to figure it out, don’t worry.”

“Maybe we can get a new house,” he mused aloud, then turned to you with a hopeful look. “A three bedroom?”

“Who will those other two bedrooms be for?”

“…Guests.”

“And your knickknacks.”

“Well—”

“No, wait, I like this idea. Our bedroom, a guest room, and one can be an office-slash-knickknack room.” You counted the three rooms off on your fingers. “Your producing desk can go in there so you can have some more privacy for all your secret projects.”

“Yes, it will be harder to hide them once we live together. Oh no, you’ve caught me,” he gave his ‘confession’ monotonously, earning a laugh from you. Kun gazed at you fondly, softness coming back to his features as he added, “I actually wanted to show you the one I was working on this morning.”

“You finished it?”

“Things are never finished with me, especially since I live forever, but if I listen to it anymore I think I’m going to cut my ears off, so yeah.”

“A ringing endorsement. I’m excited.”

So you two migrated over to his producing desk, where he insistently pulled you onto his lap instead of letting you bring your own chair to watch as he opened the project he had so hastily exited out of this morning. You indulged yourself and ran your fingers through Kun’s hair, brushing a couple stray pieces back from his face.

He looked up from the screen to you, his brows that were furrowed with concentration now quirking up in confusion. “Hm?”

“Nothing. You just look hot like this, all focused on your task. Has nobody told you that before?”

“I can’t say anybody has, no.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You lie to me, Qian Kun. All these years, not one person has told you? I don’t believe that.”

“I went through a brief stint as a bit of a hermit… didn’t have many visitors. Definitely not ones that hung around my home much as you do and got to just observe me performing various tasks.”

“Hm. Fine.” You grabbed his chin to connect your lips with his.

He hummed contentedly against your mouth, entirely unconcerned that his original goal had been sidetracked. You parted your lips to deepen the kiss as you felt one of his hands land on your hip, abandoning where it had previously been on either the keyboard or mouse.

When you finally pulled back, you had a well-kissed Qian Kun in front of you. He looked up at you with slightly glazed-over eyes, a winded smirk on his face as he asked, “And what was that for?”

“Like I said, you look hot like this. Another good reason for us to tuck your producing desk away when we live together. You’d never get any work done if you were just out in the open.”

“Maybe we should downsize, actually. A one bedroom? Studio?”

“Mm, weren’t you going to show me something?” You asked innocently, one finger tapping his cheek.

“Was I?”

“I don’t know, maybe,” you played along with a giggle, letting go of his face to mess with the collar of his shirt.

“You’re awful sometimes, you know?” He shook his head and laughed, returning his focus to the computer screens, as did you. After a couple more clicks, he had an audio file pulled up. “Ready?”

You settled in so that you were actually facing the screen, one arm around his shoulders. “Ready.”

Kun pressed play on it, and soon a euphonious melody was playing through the speakers. It was a full arrangement with strings, piano, drums, and even a couple sung verses that you easily recognized as Kun’s voice. You’d heard him hum while cooking, or sing along to the old radio and vinyl player in his home, but never a proper performance like this. The song was less than a couple minutes, but it was gorgeous, and you could feel a wide, delighted smile on your features as you listened.

“Kun…” You breathed out in awe once it was over, turning to look at your boyfriend. “That was so beautiful. You… have such a beautiful mind. Thank you for showing me that. I… I just…”

You were at a loss for words, getting too choked up on your thoughts as you gazed down at him. Hesitantly stroking your thumb over his cheekbone, for a moment you almost couldn’t believe he was real, that he was so miraculous, and was right here, with you.

Kun gently took your hand from his face and held it in his, kissing the back of your knuckles tenderly before resting it on his chest. “I love you, Y/N. So much. Do you want to listen to it again?”

You nodded quickly, resting your head in the crook of his neck and closing your eyes. First, the click of the mouse, then the gorgeous work of art that Kun had composed for you played once more. You pressed a kiss against whatever skin of his neck was closest to your mouth.

“I love you, Kun,” you murmured, squeezing his hand that was still holding yours. “I love you so much. More than whatever eternity we’ll have together, big or small, I’ll love you for even longer than that.”

The song ended, and he played it again before wrapping his other arm around you tightly. The two of you listened to it quietly, the only other sounds that of your breathing. And as it neared the end, it looped back to the beginning all on its own, without Kun having to let go of you.

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Lmao lookit him and his poofy little jacket!

Cardcaptor Sakura Illustrations Collection, Vol. 2 - Sakura Cards

nerdjo in spiderverse 🕷️

🥛Ultimate Milk man pass!

MONKEY MAN (2024)

Modern au where wwx and the Jiangs/Wens (he could be with either family for this) grow up poor, and wwx keeps joking about how he's going to marry rich and then murder his wife (or husband, after he comes out as bi) for the money. It's a running joke in his family by the time he leaves for university.

Then he comes back over the holidays with lwj, youngest son and heir of the famously wealthy Lan family, and the joke is suddenly a lot less funny.

Cue awkward tension as wwx's family tries to feel out whether wwx is actually planning to murder lwj or if it's ok for them to grow attached to him, without letting lwj know they're worried about him getting murdered, whereas lwj is fretting about making a good first impression. And wwx, once he realises his family's confusion, plays it up on purpose because he finds the entire situation hilarious.

　　　　　⏇　　 　🪐 ˚  　 ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ

　　　　　⏇　　 　🌿 ˚  　 ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ

⇢ word count: 19.1k ⇢ warnings: past unethical experimentation, brief blood and gore descriptions (some human and some non-human), you have to accept the premise of a single human empire in space in the future with colonies and a military and not think deeper about that, needle/injection mention ⇢ genre: sci-fi, set in the near-ish future, humans and aliens and robots, black op mission, captain kun, ?????? reader, slow burn, fluff, dash of angst, ft. wayv as the crew of the vision ⇢ extra info: took a lot of obvious inspo for this one from isaac asimov’s robot stories, specifically his concept of positronic brains & the three laws of robotics (and if you’ve read any of his stories, you’ll probably be able to see some other places too) ⇢ author’s note: ahhh she’s finally here! i hope you guys are as excited for part one as i am!! ⇢ series masterlist | next

Frankenstein complex (noun) ── The fear of mechanical men.

The air smelled like blood, burned electrical components, and whatever horrible odor came from blood getting onto electrical components as they sparked. All the blood wasn’t human, you could tell that, too. Skipper blood always stung your nose like rubbing alcohol. It was pitch black in the space you were hiding in, or maybe it was just nighttime. You should be scared, but your heart wasn’t beating fast for some reason.

Two pairs of heavy footfalls. One was heavier than the other. Walking, so definitely not Skippers. Both were still too light to be heavier races.

They slowed to a stop outside your hiding spot, and you really hoped they couldn’t read the Outspacer controls that would open the otherwise impossible-to-see door. After all, it was a language that had been dead for hundreds of millions of years, there was no way—

“Hey, Zennie, you got a read on these?” A man’s voice came from nearby, muffled by both the wall and presumably a helmet as well. Human, or related species.

You couldn’t hear this ‘Zennie’s reply, as it most likely came through the comms in his helmet, but you could hear the man’s side of the conversation.

“Oh, of course, how dare I, a mere meatsack, doubt your high-and-mighty artificial intelligence,” he replied with fake deference. “Yeah, yeah, I know that’s not what you meant. Alright, so just tell me which one’s the self-destruct button so I don’t press it?”

“Move, Wong, before you blow us up.” Another voice interjected. “ZEN? You said it’s a passageway? Oh, safe shelter. Bit different, don’t you think? Mind translating the dead language right the first time?”

He paused as he probably listened to Zen’s reply, then continued, “So? You know which one’s the open button?”

You couldn’t go anywhere. The hideout you were in was designed to hold only a few people for weather emergencies, to be structurally sound; not to have a back door in case you needed to escape intruders. You just had to hope Zen was completely wrong and they wouldn’t get it open.

Click.

There goes that.

The door dematerialized, and the rancid smell from before became even stronger. A man peered in barrel-first, and you recoiled back from the sudden light flooding your vision. You couldn’t press yourself any further back into the corner, but you still turned your head away to shield your sensitive eyes.

It only took a couple strides for one of the men to reach you, the other stayed back in the hallway, keeping his rifle fixed on you. The man stood over where you were sitting on the floor—your legs had gotten tired of standing after so long—and lowered his gun slightly so you could see the entirety of the front plate that covered his face. It was a reflective shield that gave you no clue to who was behind it, only let you see a warped, thinned and stretched version of yourself cowering in a corner. His armor was an improved version of the standard issue United Human Navy, if the insignia on both of his shoulders didn’t make that clear enough. It looked the same as the standard issue, but the heft of his footsteps had belied a weight difference that wasn’t explained by his stature or build, so it must be the grade of material.

“Are you hurt?” His voice came through an external speaker on his helmet. He was speaking in standard human. You couldn’t detect any sort of odd stiltedness or lag that sometimes happened with computer-assisted translations. He was assuming you understood standard human, and you did.

“No,” you replied, slowly uncrossing your arms to show your hands first, that you didn’t have anything hidden in them to attack him with. You still weren’t scared, for some reason.

“Oh, she’s pretty,” his companion commented from the hallway. The two of them must be sharing helmet feeds, as the one in front of you was definitely blocking most of you from his sight.

“Wong, shut it.” The outer speaker had been turned off for that, but it was still pretty clear to you.

“Sir, yes sir.”

“Can you stand?” His weapon was still at the ready, his finger resting above the trigger.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d wiggled your fingers and toes, and it felt good to do it. “Yes.”

He stepped back, the unexpressive mirror of his face shield watching as you pushed up from your half-sit half-crouch, bracing yourself against the wall. Your body instinctively took a deep breath to try to recover from the sudden exertion, but the vaporized Skipper blood burned your entire respiratory tract, and you coughed and spluttered trying to force it back out, catching yourself on the wall on your forearms to stay upright. The odor made your head swim, your eyes water, and your chest hurt like someone had put gasoline in your lungs and struck a match.

“Okay, woah, woah.” Two gloved hands were on your arms and back, helping you stay up. His voice was muffled again as he switched to his in-helmet comms, “Xiao, get over here! We’ve got a survivor! Yes, really, just look at my stream.”

Then, his voice was projecting to you once more, “Breathe, breathe.”

You felt the roughness of a thumb wiping at the tears running down your cheeks, the durable material of his glove scratching against your skin. He grabbed the front of your shirt collar, pulling it up towards your face at the same time he firmly pulled your hand down that had been covering your mouth as you wheezed. Positioning the material over your nose and mouth into a makeshift filter of some sort, he continued holding it there for you as you took a few breaths.

“Better?”

You nodded shallowly. The smell of Skipper blood still cloyed to your throat and lungs, but the shirt helped keep more from entering.

More footsteps from down the hall, then another pair entered the shelter.

“Holy shit…” Someone breathed out.

“I know, man,” the voice that you were already pretty sure was ‘Wong’ from earlier replied.

“How long has she been in here?” A fourth voice asked, belonging to the footsteps getting closer to you.

“I don’t know,” the man already with you answered. “Wong and I just found her while clearing this sector.”

“Okay, well, you mind, Captain?” He said indicatively. “Can’t examine my patient through you.”

“You got it?” The captain asked you, shaking the collar slightly.

You took it from him, holding it over the bridge of your nose yourself as he had been doing for you before. Looking into his face shield where you were pretty sure his eyes should be, you nodded firmly this time.

He didn’t step back until you felt another pair of gloves grabbing your elbows where he had been. The newcomer’s uniform differed from the others’ in one way, he had a neon green rectangular patch on his right arm below his UHN insignia, as well as a few other places—intergalactic signal for medic. It was removable for the wearer’s own safety, and his in particular was slightly askew, as if he’d just slapped it back on in a hurry.

The medic flipped through the pockets of a pack strapped to his thigh before pulling out a small disc of clear plastic and pushing that against your hand. “Here, this’ll work a lot better than your shirt.”

You accepted it, and he helped you orient it the right way over your nose and mouth. It was apparently a mask or rebreather of some sort. It wasn’t exceptionally bulky, and you could feel that there was some sort of fine mesh material on the inside. Immediately, you could tell the difference. The air coming into your lungs carried only the slightest tinge of lingering burning electronics smell, and while you could tell that there was Skipper blood, it didn’t burn, or make your head spin. It was just unpleasant.

“There. How’s that?”

You gave him a thumbs-up, the standard human gesture for good, since they all seemed to speak standard human. The mask didn’t allow much room for talking.

“Alright, good. Are you injured?”

You shook your head.

“Do you feel pain anywhere?”

You shook your head again.

“Good, good. I have more questions, but we should get somewhere you can breathe. Give me a second.” He looked upwards as if talking to the heavens, and his outer speaker turned off. “Liu? Professor? Did you finish clearing the building? Alright, ZEN, got readings on air quality for her?”

After a pause, both the medic, Xiao, and the captain, who had been hovering behind him the whole time, nodded.

“Thanks, ZEN.” Xiao’s speaker turned on, “Here, our teammates found somewhere that you can breathe. It’s going to be a little bit of a walk, though. Is that okay?”

You nodded. Your legs would just have to deal.

“It’s not pretty out here…” The only one that hadn’t been identified to you in passing called out as a warning from his position in the hallway with ‘Wong.’

You turned around and pushed off the wall as your answer.

Stepping into the hall, you knew why you had smelled that particular concoction of smells. Just off to your left were two dead Skippers, their uniquely-articulated hind limbs that gave them their distinct gait—and consequently, the questionably flattering nickname from humans—stuck out at awkward angles now. Dark purple sludge seeped out from under their armor, Skipper blood. On the outside of the armor were smears, streaks, and splatters turned a gleaming ruby red under the emergency lights, human blood.

You couldn’t see any dead humans, or pieces of them, in this corner, but you remembered what the captain had called you. A survivor. Which meant there were others who didn’t survive.

“Come on.” It was the captain who ushered you the other direction from the Skipper bodies. “This way.”

Their helmets must have been mapping out the facility as the unit cleared it and displaying a route in all of their HUDs, because the four of them moved as if they knew the building like the back of their hand. The captain and Xiao flanked you on either side, with Wong at the front and the fourth unnamed one at the rear. You couldn’t tell if it felt more like a protection detail or a prisoner transport.

You kept your eyes on your feet not only so you didn’t have to see all of the mutilation, or to keep from stepping in something, but to avoid the unsettling, cold dread slowly sinking over you when from the moment you caught a look at the first dead human you passed by with her remarkably in-tact face, dandelion yellow blouse and lab coat, and realized you didn’t recognize her. When you inhaled sharply and shot your eyes down to your feet, you could tell that the captain noticed. He turned his head just ever so slightly towards you, off of the consistent path it had been before, and he paused, then went back to keeping watch.

They weren’t kidding when they said it was a bit of a walk. You could feel the muscles in your legs get sore, then start twitching, then start shaking, but you didn’t even consider asking to stop.

“Woah, Liu, slow down!” The captain ordered into his headset. “Okay, yeah, I see it. Don’t touch anything. We’re just sweeping right now, remember?”

“Great, the kid’s found more toys,” the one behind you snorted.

Xiao and Wong suddenly erupted into more laughter than that statement warranted you were pretty sure.

Wong then informed him with a snicker, “Mic’s on, Ten.”

“You say that as if I wouldn’t have said that to his face, too,” the one now finally identified as Ten retorted.

“ZEN, the mics, please?” The captain sighed. “Thank you.”

“Now he’s going to whine that we were shit talking him behind his back,” Xiao groaned. “Again.”

“Well we are,” Ten laughed.

“If he just stopped acting like a baby, Captain here wouldn’t have to step in and put him in time out all the time,” Wong clicked his tongue.

“You think he’s the one in time out right now?” The captain replied dryly.

You couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle into your mask, trying to cover it up with a cough when all four of their reflective shields whipped around to face you, as if they’d forgotten you were there. After an uncomfortable stretch of silence, they all shifted back into their watchful stances.

The captain suddenly spoke again, “Yes, Professor? Okay, sure… ZEN, put that on everyone’s HUDs.”

The lack of commentary from any of them for seemingly several minutes was startling, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to know what this ‘Professor’ was showing them.

“We’re going to have to go back there after dropping Xiao and her off, aren’t we?” Wong was the first to speak.

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to,” Ten sighed.

“Or already know the answer to,” the captain said. “If she has any wounds that Xiao needs to tend to, one of you will stay to keep guard. If not, it’ll be Ten and Wong with me to meet up with Liu and the Professor, and Xiao will stay with her.”

“Alright, Ten,” Wong rolled out his neck. “Rock paper scissors?”

“Almost there,” Wong called out from ahead of you. Your internal clock told you it was almost half an hour since they found you.

“It’s just through those doors,” the captain informed you, indicating to the double doors on the opposite side of the large atrium you were in. This area had been mostly untouched by the carnage, it seemed.

“The building does have Gecks, but none of those seemed to have made it out in one piece,” Xiao added, explaining why you hadn’t used the small four-seater all-terrain vehicles, parts of which you had occasionally seen strewn about. “Sorry.”

You shrugged one shoulder at him in what you hoped he could interpret as an understanding gesture, as you were pretty sure this wasn’t their fault. From the context that you were trying to gather very quickly, they had only just gotten here.

Wong pushed one of the doors open, and the captain went in right behind to do a quick sweep, shouting out a short ‘clear!’ before Xiao led you in, and Ten followed in last, Wong shutting it firmly behind him.

You had emerged into something that looked impossible. An entire world bigger than the building you were in before, but definitely contained in one room, as when you turned around, you could still find the door. Ahead of you were rolling hills of vibrant crops, and your hand fell from your face, taking the rebreather with it. The air in here was fresh and crisp, and of course it was, this was the ag bubble. It must have remained untouched from the conflict outside because it was completely self-sustaining, needing no human intervention to planet, grow, or maintain the crops, so there would have been nobody in here in the first place.

“Okay, I’ll ask again: Any pain?” Xiao questioned you, taking his gloves off, and revealing rather delicate hands for a military medic. He motioned like he was about to grab your arm. “Can I?”

You nodded, holding it out for him to lift and turn your limb to visibly inspect it as you verbally answered his first question. “No, no pain, no injuries, I swear. I mean, my legs are a bit sore from walking, but that’s it.”

He let it hang back down at your side before doing the same to the other arm. “Hit your head?”

“Uh, I don’t think so?” You bent your head to let him quickly feel at your scalp through your hair for any bumps, lacerations, or other evidence of injury.

“Have all your toes?”

“Haven’t counted lately…?”

“Do it now.”

And so everybody stood around while you awkwardly took your shoes and socks off to make sure you had all ten toes, and that they weren’t necrotic, then you finally sat down to pull your socks and shoes back on. Xiao took your pulse manually at your wrist, before having you breathe into a small device and sampling a pinprick of blood from your finger with the same tool. After a moment, the screen lit up green, along with your specific readings.

“Satisfied, Xiao?” The captain asked.

“Absolutely,” the medic nodded. “More compliant than all of my patients as of late.”

“Good. We’re going to head out to catch up with the others and check that out.”

“Better you than me.”

“Hold on guys, aren’t we forgetting something?” Wong stopped the other two from leaving.

Ten and the captain looked at each other, then back to Wong.

“What, Wong? And we’re not guessing, spit it out or shut up,” the captain demanded, crossing his arms over his chest.

Wong reached up and pulled his helmet off in one grand motion, the first of any of them to have done so. He shook his dark, shaggy hair out—you wondered if that length was perhaps a bit too long for UHN standards, as it was almost covering his ears—before focusing a wide grin on you. Wong crouched down in front of you.

“Do angels have names?”

The other three groaned and swore at varying volumes.

You stared at him blankly, unsure of why this was receiving such backlash from the others, and why they all also seemed to be waiting for your response. When it had quieted down a little bit, you cleared your throat, and answered hesitantly, “I-I don’t know. Do they? I’m sorry, I’m not a theologist… I don’t think I even believe in the divine, really.”

Wong’s jaw dropped as he stared at you, and Ten and Xiao began howling with laughter. The captain marched over, cuffing him by the ear. “That’s enough. Get up! Stop harassing the woman.”

“Ow! That hurt!” Wong cradled the side of his head as he pulled himself to his feet.

“Should’ve kept your helmet on.” The captain yanked Wong away by his scruff as the soldier struggled to put his gear back on. “Do it again and I’m throwing you out of the Vision into the next star. Understand me, Corporal?”

“Zennie! Not helpful, dude! I don’t think that was him asking how close the closest star was!” Wong yelped.

Wong, Ten, and the captain disappeared through the door, and you could no longer hear them, but judging by Xiao’s chuckling, they were still going at it, and it was apparently funny. You looked up at the one remaining soldier you were left with inquisitively.

“Oh, sorry, here.” Xiao popped his helmet off as well, and you got to see his sharp features for the first time. He set it on the ground at his feet, and you noted that he pointed the face shield away from you. “I’m Xiao Dejun. You can just call me Dejun, if you’d like.”

“Don’t you need to hear your teammates?” You asked hesitantly, looking at the helmet.

“Earpiece,” he tapped a small device nestled in his left ear. “There are some advantages to not having the neural port. Like not having an AI inside of my goddamn brain.”

“You also don’t have a rifle,” you observed for the first time. Before, you had presumed that it was merely slung over his back, but now you could clearly see that the bulk there was more packs of medical supplies.

“I’m a terrible shot, barely got past basic. I’d just make more patients if I had one,” he laughed, then patted a holster on his right thigh. “Captain makes me carry a pistol, though.”

You looked off towards a rippling field of grain nearby, trying not to think of that woman’s face, her yellow blouse, because then you’d think about why you didn’t know her. She was in a lab coat, this was some kind of scientific facility, you were sure of it, you knew that, so why didn’t you know her—

“Sorry about Wong, by the way,” Dejun very thankfully caught your attention again, offering you your second smile of the day. “I promise, he wasn’t trying to be greasy. He’s a goofball, he was trying to make you laugh, put you at ease, you know? But clearly, that wasn’t the way to do it. So again, sorry.”

“He wasn’t asking a theological question?” You clarified.

He tilted his head, giving you a strange, bemused look. “No, he was asking what your name is. It’s an old, cheesy Earth pickup line. Or, I guess it must be unique to Earth, since you don’t know it. Are you from a colony or…?”

“I… don’t know,” you trailed off, the corners of your mouth turning down as you tried to think harder.

“You don’t know your name? Or if you’re from a colony?”

“My name’s Y/N.” You could answer that immediately. That was familiar, yours.

“So you don’t remember if you’re from Earth or a colony?”

You squeezed your eyes shut as you tried to think harder, but it felt like you were just scrambling in a dark, empty room. “No, I don’t know.”

“Hey, that’s okay. Relax, Y/N,” he said gently. “Just relax right now, okay?”

Dejun took one of the packs off his back and started rooting through it. “How long were you in there? I’m sure you’re thirsty, and hungry.”

“I don’t know…”

His brow furrowed as he offered a canteen out to you. “Here. Water.”

“Thank you.”

Slowly, the man with you lowered himself down until he was sitting across from you, linking his fingers together. He let you open the bottle and take a few deep gulps of water. You couldn’t remember the last time you had water, but it felt great to drink it again.

“Y/N…” The medic said calmly. “What is the first thing you can remember? The oldest hard memory you have?”

You wiped away a stray drop that had rolled down your chin, and scraped through your brain, but came up startlingly empty. “I-I guess smelling blood, all the human blood and Skipper blood, and then hearing footsteps outside where I was hiding. Wong’s and the captain’s, right before they found me.”

His eyes went wide, and his nostrils flared as his features turned serious. “Your oldest memory is less than an hour old?”

That same unsettling, cold dread that had started sinking down over you since you saw the woman fully coated you, and you involuntarily shivered. Cautiously, hesitantly, as if afraid that you were erring somehow, you nodded. “I take back what I said earlier, Dejun. I think there’s something very, very wrong with me.”

Dejun asked you round after round of questions walking through the very first thing you could remember right up to that very second, until he let out a long sigh.

“Well, so far it seems like you’re forming memories right now just fine,” he declared. “And you at least remember your name, which is good.”

“I knew you guys were UHN, and that you were a medic because of your green patch,” you reiterated insistently, feeling like you were going in circles with your own mind. How could you possibly know about the United Human Navy and military visual codes but not if you were from Earth or not?

“Okay, so you’ve been around the Navy before. If you were at this place, that makes sense. You don’t have a neural port, so you were probably a military contractor of some sort.”

You immediately latched onto this clue. “What is this place?”

Dejun offered you a regretful look. “Already said too much. That’s a question for the captain, sorry.”

You sighed, but didn’t push him. Pointing to the exit, you tried another avenue of your apparent knowledge. “I know those aliens are called Skippers.” 

“Definitely UHN with that lingo.” Dejun grinned at you. “One of us.”

“But I don’t know why they were here. Or why I’m here.”

“Don’t push yourself.”

“And I know that this place is an agriculture bubble, ag bubble for short, and what that is, and the basics of how and why it works, and what it’s for, but not why it would be here. Or why I would be here—ow!” You held the front of your head as a dull pressure started up from the inside.

“Y/N?” Dejun scrambled closer, his voice concerned. “What’s going on?”

“My head hurts,” you scrunched your nose up against the feeling.

“Where? Describe it for me. Is it a throbbing? Stabbing? Shooting? Aching? Squeezing?”

“The front mostly. Feels like something’s pushing from the inside out, kind of,” you explained, dropping your hand to let him do another, more thorough examination for any head injuries.

“A pressure?”

“Yeah.”

“You’ve got to take it easy,” he told you frankly. “The human brain’s a finnicky, unpredictable thing. And I’m just talking about the squishy part inside your skull. Interrogating it about why you can remember some things and why you can’t remember other things isn’t going to make you remember those things. I can’t see any injury on the outside, but since you can’t remember whether or not you were injured, and we don’t have anybody else to say either way, we can’t discount that your amnesia came from an injury. If you sprained your ankle, you wouldn’t be running a marathon on it. Same thing with an injured brain, okay?”

“Okay,” you acquiesced, grabbing the canteen again. Already, your head was feeling a little better.

“You’re officially the easiest patient I’ve ever had,” he declared, sitting back down. “If I had lollipops to give out, you’d get one.”

Before you could say anything, Dejun held up a finger for you to wait, then grabbed his helmet and yanked it back on. “What the fuck… Alright, yeah, I agree, this is the best place to set up camp. Y/N confirmed it’s an ag bubble, we’ll be able to—Can I finish? Anyway, it’s an ag bubble, so we’ll be able to live here indefinitely. Cool, we’ll see you guys soon.”

Dejun took the helmet off again, resting it on his hip as he informed you, “Everyone’s coming back here to set up camp.”

“Making camp in the ag bubble does make the most sense,” you stated, looking around you. “Fresh air, running water, obviously unlimited food.”

“Glad you agree.”

“How long is your team supposed to be here?”

“Question for the captain.”

“Seems as though I have a lot of questions for the captain,” you sighed, resting your cheek on your knees as you traced figure-eights in the grass with your finger.

“He’s going to have a few for you as well.”

“I would ask what everybody went to go investigate, but I have a feeling…”

“Just wait until he gets back.”

“As I had guessed.”

There was a short rhythm of knocks at the door to the ag bubble, and Dejun jogged over to open it. “Clear!”

A group of UHN soldiers all entered, talking among themselves, though you could tell when their reflective face shields occasionally turned over towards you. You were still sitting on the ground, hugging your knees to your chest, and uncertainly got to your feet, brushing away any stray dirt that may have clung to you. Dejun put himself between them and you, holding his hands out, and you could very clearly hear the word ‘amnesia’ a few times as he seemed to be sternly prefacing this introduction, taking his role as your doctor seriously.

Judging by how he held himself, the one that you were pretty sure was the captain cocked his head at this information, but remained quiet through Dejun’s small spiel. The medic gestured as if he were rushing them, and they all reached up to take their helmets off as well. He finally led them over to you, offering you a reassuring smile.

“Y/N, this is the crew of the Vision,” he motioned to all five of them. “I’ll let our captain take over on introductions.”

“Thanks, Lieutenant,” the one that you had already pinpointed as the captain from afar spoke up. Despite not being the tallest of them, he held himself differently, as if there was some weight there that you couldn’t see, but he carried with a straight back and level shoulders nevertheless. “I’m Captain Qian Kun of the United Human Navy vessel the Vision. I’m sure our doctor, Lieutenant Xiao, has already introduced himself. This is the rest of my… ragtag team: Corporal Wong Kunhang…”

You looked at the only other man aside from Dejun who was familiar to you, who fixed you with an exceptionally apologetic gaze.

“I am very sorry about earlier, ma’am,” he bowed his head regretfully, hands clasped behind his back.

“Oh, thank you,” you responded. “I’m sure you’re very funny, Corporal Wong, to other people.”

A couple of the others let out snickers as they tried to stay at attention, Dejun and another openly bursting into laughter. The taller one quickly scrambled to get back into his position and push down his smile as the captain focused his gaze on all of them again.

Captain Qian continued, “Staff Sergeant Ten Lee.”

He flashed you a grin. “It’s a pleasure, ma’am.”

“Lieutenant Liu Yangyang…”

“Nice to meet you!” Lieutenant Liu beamed at you, though there was a weird little glint in his eye that you weren’t sure if you liked. It was like he was trying to take you apart piece by piece. His gaze hadn’t left you through everybody else’s introduction, and you weren’t liking having to meet it now. “And can I just say, I think you’re one of the funniest beings in the galaxy? Definitely funnier than Wong over there.”

“Kid’s making some points,” Ten elbowed Wong.

Captain Qian suddenly took over again very loudly, “And finally, our only civilian member of the crew, Professor Dong Sicheng, Department of Xenolinguistics at New Beijing University.”

This was the other guy who had outright laughed a moment ago, and you could tell he was much less comfortable with the stiff military position before Captain Qian had informed you he was a civilian. Despite his civilian status, though, he was in the same armor and carried the same arms as everyone else—more firepower than Dejun did. You were just glad to not have to be making eye contact with Liu anymore. It felt like he knew something that you didn’t, and you definitely didn’t like that, given your current predicament.

Six of them. Turning back to Captain Qian, you tilted your head curiously. “ZEN is… your ship’s AI? And you all have a synchronous fragment in your helmets, earpieces, and neural ports?”

A couple of them looked at Dejun incredulously.

“I didn’t tell her. She has amnesia, she’s not an idiot,” he retorted.

“Maybe you did something with tech,” Ten suggested. “Could be why you were here.”

“What did I just tell you about stressing her memory?” Dejun scolded him. “She needs to rest.”

“We all do,” Captain Qian agreed. “After we set up camp. Come on.”

Dejun shooed you away from helping to set up camp despite already knowing that you had no physical injuries, finally giving you a task of making sure all of his emergency canteens in his medic packs had fresh water from the river nearby. You knew it was busy work, but did it anyway, glad to feel useful.

Loaded up with canteens slung around your waist and shoulders, you took the paved pathways between the acres of crops until you reached a crystal clear river. There were some areas that were sandy shores, and others that were grassy drop-offs. Stopping at a grassy drop-off, you sat down, the canteens clanking against each other. You took them off and poured out the water in them one-by-one, making a pile of empty canteens. Then you leaned over the edge and filled them up from the cool, gentle current, starting a second pile of full canteens.

You could feel the thud of heavy footsteps in the ground, and knew who was approaching you before Captain Qian even spoke.

“Mind if I join you?” He asked, and you looked over your shoulder to see him holding a large, empty water jug. “You seem to have grabbed the best spot.”

“Not at all.” You jerked your head towards the empty space on the other side of your full canteen pile.

He sat as well, grabbing an apparatus the size of his hand off the side and lowering that into the water instead of the entire jug. It was connected to the jug by a tube, and you watched as it moved water up from the river into the top of the container.

“Dejun didn’t tell me about ZEN earlier,” you said abruptly, trying to vouch for the doctor who so far had been the kindest person that you could remember in your life. “Really, I was guessing just from how you guys were talking—”

“It’s okay, Y/N, we weren’t being very discrete,” Captain Qian assured you. “Xiao isn’t one for lying to cover his ass, either. I believe him when he says that he didn’t tell you who exactly ZEN is.”

“There were a lot of questions I was asking that he couldn’t answer. Just kept telling me to ask you.”

“Like what?”

“Don’t you already know? His earpiece…”

“ZEN isolates comms as necessary when the unit is split up. The other five of us needed to hear each other more than we needed to eavesdrop on you two in here.”

You gnawed on your bottom lip nervously. “…He told me to take it easy, with my brain and the amnesia.”

“Maybe we can gently jog your memory,” he suggested.

“How?”

“That woman in the hall, in the yellow top. Did you know her?”

“I don’t know…” You replied regretfully. You were apparently the only person alive in this building, and couldn’t identify that woman. Were you friends? Should you be mourning her? Did she have a family? Was there anybody to tell to mourn her? It felt wrong that nobody would. And there were even more like that who you didn’t look at, who you hadn’t seen.

“It’s a big building. There were probably a lot of people working here. You might not have known everybody,” he replied casually.

You pushed one of your hands against your eye, against the pressure that was coming back. “No, I don’t… I don’t know anything. About what this place was for.”

“Alright, alright,” he held up his free hand in surrender.

When your head hurt less, and you had filled up a couple more canteens, you changed your focus. He had asked you a question, it was only fair you asked him one.

“Why are you guys here? To stop the Skippers?”

“No. We didn’t know there was any alien presence until we arrived and saw the ships out front.”

You kept your gaze on the running water as you tried to work through the information you were getting. “Then why did your team get sent here?”

“We’re trying to figure out what happened here too.”

“No,” you rejected that immediately, pointing in his general direction accusatorily. It didn’t make sense with everything you already knew. “You didn’t know there were Skippers here until you got here. Now you’re trying to figure out what happened here. So why were you coming here in the first place?”

The captain breathed out, his tone dropping the strained casualness it had before. “This is a UHN research facility. We were sent to investigate reports of unsanctioned experiments being conducted here.”

You snapped your head up to look at him. “What kind of experiments?”

“Look, rumors about this kind of stuff is everywhere. Urban legends, pulp fiction, everyone’s heard something about illegal government experiments. But reputable intelligence on this kind of stuff is few and far between. This one was trusted enough to get us out here, but unfortunately sparse on details.”

“I don’t know anything about it.”

“As you’ve already said,” he replied tersely.

“I don’t,” you repeated.

“I didn’t say you were lying.”

You didn’t love the pace that the captain was drip feeding you information, or for whatever purpose of his own that he was doing it, but he was giving you information, and in your state, that was vital. So you kept him engaged. “How do Skippers figure into those experiments?”

“We don’t know.”

“So it seems like we’re on the same page here.” You could almost laugh.

“Yes.”

When you looked over at Captain Qian, there was maybe the faintest curl of a smile at the corner of his mouth, but as soon as you had questioned it in your mind, it was gone. He continued filling his jug, and you continued filling the canteens. You were still thinking about his heavy footsteps, and wanted to keep him talking, wanted to grasp at any information you could get in hopes it slotted it somewhere in your own mind.

“Your armor…” You began, eyes dragging over the pieces he was wearing, everything except his helmet. “How can you wear it?”

He crooked an eyebrow up at you curiously. “You mean aside from putting it on my body?”

You looked at him entirely unamused before continuing, “It’s made to look like standard UHN armor, but I can hear that it’s made of material far denser than your teammates’.”

Both of his eyebrows lifted in surprise momentarily, before his expression was neutral once more, and he calmly informed you, “Minor skeletal enhancements.”

So that’s why he moved differently from the others.

“Why didn’t your teammates receive them?”

“The UHN doesn’t need to spend the money to equip every soldier with minor skeletal enhancements for armor that is very expensive to make.”

“So why are you worth the very expensive armor, then?”

“It’s actually the old stuff, they’ve moved on to newer and better.” He was done filling the jug now and stood up. “I’m not worth the expensive stuff anymore.”

“Why don’t they give you the new one?”

“It’s bigger and heavier, my skeletal enhancements wouldn’t be able to support it. They need younger people for that program.”

“You… are not very old,” you observed plainly.

He shouldered the jug of water that was bigger than his entire torso as if it were a pillow. “No. I’m not.”

You didn’t appreciate how he had skirted some of your questions, like why he had been chosen for such a program, but the scale of information he had implicitly given you in just a few words was more than enough to leave you floored. If that’s what the UHN was doing above the board, you weren’t sure if you wanted to find out what they considered unsanctionable—what was going on here.

Returning to the others, you were happy to see a fully set up camp, and handed over the refilled canteens to Dejun, who made sure to thank you profusely and reassure you that you were a huge help. Despite it feeling a little patronizing, you were satisfied at having at least done something rather than sitting around watching them do everything while you did nothing.

“Y/N!” Someone called out your name, you looked over your shoulder to see Ten and Wong approaching you.

“Yes, Corporal?”

He laughed and shook his head. “You don’t have to do that. Kunhang and Ten is just fine.”

His companion nodded in agreement.

“We’re on dinner duty,” Kunhang pointed between the two of them. “Do you know what all is in here?”

“Do you people know the meaning of the word amnesia?” Dejun snapped. “Honestly, ask ZEN if—”

“There should be a panel by the entrance that tells you that,” you answered, pointing towards the door. “I don’t think I remember the specifics of this ag bubble, but I’m pretty sure I’m remembering that correctly. Right? They all have information panels at the entrance?”

“It does,” Ten assured you of your knowledge. “It’s in Outspacer. We uploaded it to ZEN, but he— Oh, thanks, man.”

“Zennie, incredible timing as always,” Kunhang rolled his eyes. He smiled at you. “Never mind, got everything we need. Thanks!”

They walked away into the fields, and you turned back to Dejun, who was now organizing his supplies in his tent.

“I wish I could be more help,” you sighed.

“Y/N, come here,” he gestured you into the open entrance of the tent. You obliged, and he plopped down onto a cot on one side, then pointed to the other for you to sit. “They didn’t actually need your help.”

“But they asked—”

“I know. Without divulging too much, I can tell you that the seven of us have been essentially the only people we’ve all been around for… months on end.”

“I see.” You nodded, noting how he seemed to be including ZEN in that count. “I’m someone new to talk to.”

“Right. And the next thing I’m going to say, I do hope you don’t take this the wrong way. You’re also a pretty woman.”

“Oh…”

“Don’t get me wrong, you’re safe with us. But I’m just saying that you’ll probably be getting more attention than if we had a new guy in camp.”

“Is that why Liu keeps looking at me like that?” You asked.

“Like what?” Dejun’s brow furrowed.

“Like… I don’t know, he just keeps looking at me. Like he’s studying me.”

He shook his head. “I’ll talk to him. Kid probably isn’t used to seeing a human woman after so long.”

“Is there anything else I can help with?”

“I don’t have anything for you,” he said regretfully, then tapped his ear. “Captain? Yeah, what’s your location? Right, thanks, I’m sending Y/N your way.” He focused back on you. “Captain Qian’s in his tent, you can see if he has anything for you to do.”

“Which one’s his tent?”

“Right next door.”

“Ah. Thanks.”

You ducked out of Dejun’s tent, heading over to the next one. There was no door to knock on, but Captain Qian could already see you, and waved you in.

“Yes, Y/N? Do you need something?” He seemed to be in the middle of performing some sort of inspection of his armor, wearing only the bottom half of it, leaving him in a white tank top as he held the chest plate and paced in the small space of the tent.

“Is there something wrong with your armor?” You asked.

“Just routine maintenance,” he replied, stopping to remove an inner panel and set it on one of the cots that was already full of armor pieces. “ZEN detected an abnormal heart rate earlier, but I can’t see any reason for that.”

“Why are you checking your chestplate for that? Wouldn’t ZEN be monitoring your vitals through your neural port, not any external sensors?”

“I don’t think his reading was faulty, I’m just trying to look for anything that could have caused it.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know what, that’s why I’m inspecting my armor.” He took another piece out, offering the one with the electrical components out to you. “Can you hold this?”

You took it, staring at the small, wafer-thin computer component in your hands. “You’re right, this is older tech.”

“How so?”

“It’s twice the size it needs to be and—” You held it up to the light, seeing the distinct refractive rainbows in between the ultra-thin layers. “Doesn’t have the superconductive gel preferred now. It’s not like it’s ancient or anything, but the UHN wouldn’t be issuing anything new like this.”

“Is it in good condition?”

“Yes, everything looks fine. No acute damage, and it looks like it’s been taken care of very well, even for typical use. This definitely isn’t what caused your abnormal heartrate.”

Captain Qian held his hand out, and you placed the component in his palm for him to reassemble the chest piece. “I agree. Now, did you need something, Y/N?”

“Yes. Is there something I can do to help? Dejun didn’t have anything else for me.”

“Since you seem to know quite a bit about UHN armor, you want to finish helping me with my inspection?”

“Sure, sure.”

He set the reassembled chest piece on the ground, then looked at you expectantly. You stared back.

He pointed to the exit. “I need to get out of the rest of my armor. It’s a one-man job.”

“Oh! Sorry!” You hurried to leave, and heard him zip up the entrance behind you.

It unzipped again a few minutes later, and the captain clipped the material aside again. You followed him back in, seeing all of his armor laid out on the floor between the two cots. The captain was in a dark t-shirt, pants, and regular boots now as he picked up a piece and sat down on a cot. He nodded to the other for you.

You selected the left arm and quietly began working. It should have been weird, how you knew this but not how you got here, but you swallowed down that discomfort and just focused on the technology in your hands. You had a task, at least, and that was good enough for now. Feeling around, you found the release that separated the upper and lower limb pieces from each other, and set the upper half aside for now. You continued looking over the paneling of the lower arm.

“You’ll be staying in Xiao’s tent,” Captain Qian said. “If that’s alright with you. We would have preferred to give you your own tent, obviously, but we didn’t exactly have a spare. Figured you’re probably the most comfortable with him, right?”

“That’ll be fine, yes,” you agreed. “Thank you.”

“You’re probably wondering where we all went earlier, right? When we left you and Xiao here?”

“Yes. I had asked him, but he said that was a question for you.”

“Remember the reports of unsanctioned experiments I mentioned?”

“Yes.”

“It was a lab.”

“And what was in it?”

“Ash.”

“Someone burned it down? How did it not catch the whole building on fire?”

“Liu thinks they were careful to use certain materials to control and contain the fire to one area for a certain amount of time.”

“So it wasn’t part of the human-Skipper fighting, then? If someone took the time to make sure it burned in a specific way.”

“Most likely. But Liu’s a roboticist, not a chemist. His knowledge could only go so far. And ZEN is only as much of a help as the sensors we have to gather data for him.”

“How do you know it was a laboratory then? If everything was burned up?”

“ZEN and the Professor translated the sign on the outside.”

“It wasn’t in standard human?”

“Outspacer again.” Captain Qian clicked his tongue. “For a UHN facility supposedly built within the last ten years, this place has a lot of an ancient, dead alien language in it.”

“That… does seem unlikely.”

“The only reason I can think of why humans would do that, is if they didn’t want other humans to be able to read any of it.”

“Or anybody.” You moved on to the upper limb. “The Outspacers have been gone for hundreds of millions of years. Nobody, human or alien, uses it anymore.”

“You’re right.” Captain Qian said thoughtfully. “Whatever those Skippers came here for, they weren’t going to be successful, whether they lived or not.”

You looked up at the captain curiously. “How long is your team going to be here?”

“I don’t know,” he replied. “Our original mission here was supposed to be short, just intel-gathering. A few days, one week tops, then come back later if necessary. But now… things seem to be a lot more complicated.”

“What’ll you do with me when you leave?”

“Take you back to UHN Main on Earth for debriefing, and if you haven’t recalled anything about where you’re from by then, they’ve got programs to help people get back on their feet,” he answered simply. “We’re not going to kill you.”

“I didn’t expect that,” you balked. “Though I’m not sure I like the sound of this debriefing…”

“It won’t be the most fun interview of your life, but you’ll live.”

“What should I call you?”

“Pardon?”

“Dejun, Kunhang, and Ten all told me to address them informally. The others call you Captain, I don’t want to offend, I don’t know, I’ve been avoiding calling you anything because I don’t know…”

He held your eye contact for a moment, then went back to rotating the leg piece in front of his gaze. “Kun. You can call me Kun.”

“Okay,” you nodded, trying not to immediately let it go to your head. “Thank you.”

After finishing the inspection of his armor, you and Kun had determined that there was nothing wrong with it: no faulty wiring, no disarticulation of the joints, no loose bolts, no misalignment of the hydraulics, no error codes thrown by the computer, no fritzing electronics, not a flaw in sight.

“Nothing,” you huffed, hands on your hips as you stared down at the mostly reassembled armor. It was half put back together, ready for the next time he had to wear it.

“Maybe I just got spooked then,” Kun shrugged. “Thanks anyway, Y/N.”

“How often do you get spooked?” You asked him doubtfully. “You don’t seem the type to startle easily.”

“Not often.”

“When did it happen?”

He shook his head dismissively. “It’s fine.”

“If you’re having early signs of heart problems—”

“Hey, who was just saying I’m not old?” He put a hand over his chest.

“I said early.”

“And you’re sounding like Xiao.”

“And if you’re all like this, I can see why he would complain about having you for patients.”

“It was when we were clearing the building,” he relented. “I’d have to watch the footage from my helmet back on the ship to see exactly what was going on. So just leave it, okay?”

You sighed. “Alright, fine.”

The volume outside the tent suddenly rose, and Kun nodded towards the exit. “Now come on, sounds like everyone’s getting together for mess.”

He stepped back for you to walk out first, and you immediately saw that the others were in fact gathered in the center of the tents around a small fire. Dejun waved at you and patted the ground next to him, and you gratefully took the empty spot between him and Ten. Kun sat across the fire, immediately being pulled into a conversation by Liu and the Professor.

“So what did you guys end up finding?” You asked Kunhang and Ten as they started serving up food in small metal dishes.

“We’ve got a beautiful fare for you tonight of rations,” Ten handed you a dish with great gravitas, and you giggled as you passed it down.

“Supplemented with some lentils,” Kunhang finished. “We thought we were heading towards the berries, get a little dessert going, but apparently ZEN’s translation wasn’t completely accurate. Ended up at the red lentils.”

You laughed again. “You can’t blame him too much, the words are almost the same.”

Everyone’s heads whipped over to look at you. The Professor’s eyes bulged out of his face. “You know Outspacer?”

“I mean, I can’t speak it. It’s been dead for so long, I wouldn’t know what anything is supposed to sound like. If it was even spoken in the first place,” you answered hesitantly. “But yeah, I can read it.”

Liu looked around at everyone else incredulously. “Did nobody ask her how she got into the safe room locked behind Outspacer controls? Or did you all assume she had button mashed her way in?”

“Okay, we had more pressing things on our minds,” Dejun cut in. “Like making sure she was alive.”

The Professor was still staring at you with fascination. “You said it might not have been spoken. Why do you think that?”

“Well, it’s a very visual and categorical system. That’s why ZEN’s mistranslation for lentil and berry happened. Two things that are small and round that you eat are going to have very similar patterns to each other. Berries have a sweet modifier appended to the end, by the way, while lentils have the ground modifier to indicate that they’re a grain.” You didn’t know where all this knowledge was coming from, but you knew that it was right, as well as you knew your name. “But it only ever describes objects and their relationships in space and time. There’s no abstract ideas like feelings. It might just be a code to convey physical information, instructions, that kind of stuff, not their written alphabet.”

“Why have a separate code then?”

“The Outspacers were everywhere, weren’t they? It would’ve been impossible for them all to speak the same language. This way everything that’s important like laws, directions, warnings, that kind of stuff, is in a common code that everyone can read.”

The Professor kept staring at you.

“Y/N, you broke the Professor,” Kunhang declared, snapping his fingers in front of his teammate’s face.

“I’m sorry. I-I didn’t mean to.” You looked around hesitantly.

“Don’t apologize,” Dejun chuckled, patting your shoulder. “He’s probably just mourning all the academic articles he’ll never get to publish on this.”

“Why?”

“Cla-ssi-fied,” Liu said with a hint of teasing, enunciating each syllable for emphasis. “Officially, our crew doesn’t exist.”

Kun rolled his eyes. “That’s a bit dramatic. You’re still official personnel of UHN, you haven’t been scrubbed from the universe.”

“Fine, fine. We’re a self-contained vessel whose missions are not officially documented anywhere. Better?”

“Best would’ve been to keep your mouth shut,” the captain said through gritted teeth.

“She can read Outspacer! Like we’re not going to keep her?”

“Y/N’s not a puppy or a toy, Lieutenant. It’s not a matter of ‘keeping’ her. She’s a civilian whose safety we’re responsible for. The matter is closed,” Kun’s hard gaze shifted to the rest of his crew on the word, before returning to the roboticist, “and you and I are going to have a discussion later.”

“Sir, yes sir,” Liu muttered, turning his eyes back to the fire.

Ten nudged a dish into your hands, and you passed it onto Dejun. When everyone had a bowl, they started eating, and you slowly began working through your food as well.

“Anyway, Y/N,” Kun cleared his throat, and you looked up at him attentively. “We’ll need you to properly translate the ag bubble info panel tomorrow. So hopefully Wong doesn’t poison us at breakfast.”

“Yeah, of course,” you agreed hurriedly. “Whatever you guys need.”

“You’ll have to review my notes on Outspacer glyphs!” The Professor had suddenly found his voice again, his tone now rushed and excited.

“Sure, yes.”

You spent the rest of the meal mostly keeping to yourself, quietly eating your food and occasionally engaging with the others if they talked to you first. Today, the only day of your life that you could remember, had been a lot, and if every day was like this, you weren’t sure if you were really looking forward to the rest of them.

Everyone had a job to shut camp down for the night, and you helped Kunhang and Ten clean up from cooking dinner.

“So is there a light switch or something?” Ten looked up at the still rather bright sky.

“The lights are on a timer,” you explained, looking up. “It should—”

The sky above you began to dim just then. You kept watching, explaining to the Marines with you, “Here, keep your eyes on it. Blink and you’ll miss the sunset.”

The sunset happened all around you, with no one source of light from a single ‘Sun,’ it wasn’t focused from any one point, instead the scattering came from every angle. Everywhere you looked was a different smattering of red, orange, and pink hues.

“Holy shit…” Kunhang breathed out, doing a slow 360.

Then, as soon as it had started, it was over, and the artificial expanse above you was pitch black.

“Damn, that was fast,” Ten commented.

“Told you.” You stacked up the dried dishes. “Where do these go?”

“Right here.”

After packing up the dinner items, you turned back to them expectantly. “Anything else?”

“Sleep,” Ten declared, to which Kunhang groaned and nodded. “Some very well-earned sleep, for all of us.”

“Are you sure?”

Kunhang gently grabbed you by your shoulders and pushed you towards your tent. “Go. To. Sleep.”

“Okay, okay.” You held your hands up in surrender, slowly walking away.

“Goodnight!” “Night!” They called after you cheerily.

“Goodnight!” You waved to them over your shoulder. As you turned your head, you saw someone sitting on a pack on the ground outside Kun’s tent, and realized that it was the Professor, scrawling on a tablet with a stylus.

Your tent was unzipped, and you found Dejun seemingly ready for bed, laying on one of the cots and reading a thick hardcover book by the light of a small electric lantern.

“The Professor was not in his tent yet,” you informed Dejun with a frown. “Are you all doing watches? I thought you had cleared the building.”

“No night watches,” he replied without looking up from the book. “He’s just out there because he’s sharing a tent with Captain Qian, who is currently still ripping Liu a new one in said tent.”

“Oh…”

“Don’t feel bad, Y/N. Liu said something stupid, he gets chewed out, repeat ad nauseum.” Dejun flipped the page. “Bit more stupid, telling you the classified nature of our team’s missions, but like I said before: you’ve got amnesia, you’re not an idiot. You’re clearly very smart in your own right; you would’ve put it together before the end of your time with us. You probably already had your suspicions before he said anything, right?”

“There were some things that had caught my attention, yes.”

“Care to share?”

“Your green medic patch looked like it had been reapplied recently, there’s not a lot of typical scenarios that would require a medic to need to take it off in the first place. You have a civilian xenolinguistics professor attached to your unit who is just as armed as the rest of you. Nobody has mentioned reporting to a higher-ranking officer than your captain since being here, despite what you found. You’ve all talked about the mission being very long, not wanting to tell me too many details, and how you haven’t been around anybody but each other pretty much the entire time.”

“The medic patch really clued you in?” He laughed. “I slapped that back on less than a minute before jumping out of the ship onto this planet. Good one.”

“I didn’t know they let you bring those,” you referred to the book in his hands. “Figured it’d be a fire hazard.”

“We’re allowed one personal effect,” he explained, turning a page, the paper looking soft and worn. “Fire hazard be damned.”

“And what book did you choose?”

“It’s not mine. It’s Liu’s.” He angled it so you could see the cover.

“‘On the Ethics of Robotics?’” You read the title aloud. “Why are you reading a treatise on ethics in a completely different field?”

“One: It’s been a long mission, you get bored. Two: Now that I’ve actually started reading it… It’s kind of interesting. Gets you thinking. It was written over fifty years ago, so some of the actual science is out of date. But he still talks about some pretty interesting stuff.”

“Was it written by a roboticist or an ethicist?”

“Roboethicist. The very first one. Coined the term and everything.” Dejun dog-eared a page before setting the book aside. “He’s like, Liu’s hero. Liu even got to take a couple classes from the guy during his degree before he died.”

“Wow.”

“Anyway, I’m ready to pass out, and as your doctor, I say it’s bedtime for you too.”

“I will not argue that.” You agreed, laying down as well.

Dejun reached down to turn the light off.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Dejun.”

You were the first one awake in camp. Or so you had thought, as you emerged into the still darkened ag bubble. Liu was sitting around the remnants of the campfire, and for a second, you wondered if he had been made to sleep out here.

His eyes immediately snapped open, and he smiled at you. “Morning! Want to go for a walk?”

“Are you sure we should leave camp?” You looked over towards the captain’s tent hesitantly.

“You can make sure we’re back before sunrise, right?”

You thought momentarily. “It’s in eleven minutes…”

“We’ll be back before then.” He got to his feet. “Scout’s honor.”

You followed him. “You’re in the Navy…”

“Old Earth saying,” he explained, starting on one of the paths between the fields. “It relates to this organization, the Boy Scouts. Doesn’t exist anymore, but the lingo is still around.”

“They were honorable?”

“Don’t know how honorable a bunch of grade schoolers could be, but it’s just an expression.”

“I see…”

“Anyway, sorry about last night,” Liu said. “I got excited and put you in a really awkward situation. Not only that but a dangerous one, too. You’re a civvie, and the more you know, the more you’re at risk. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Thank you, L—”

“God, Yangyang, please,” he rebuffed you before you could finish your sentence. “I’d never hear the end of it if you called the other guys their names and me by rank.”

“Thank you, Yangyang.” You smiled. “May I ask how much younger you are than your teammates?”

“This is my first mission, if that gives you any context.”

“And you were put on one of this caliber?”

“It’s the Professor’s first mission too, in my defense,” he scoffed. “But guys like me usually don’t get a lot of field experience. There’s plenty of roboticists who go their whole careers in the UHN without ever seeing action.”

“So then why are you on this mission?”

“I… actually don’t know.”

“They didn’t tell you?”

“We were all put in a room, minus the Professor, then the captain came in with the Professor and told us we’d all been selected for this team. Professor included.”

“Interesting.”

“I actually don’t know if I was supposed to tell you that…”

“You’re not very good at this classified stuff, are you?”

“You ask a lot of questions!” He said defensively.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “I don’t know anything! That’s all I can do!”

“You know how to read Outspacer,” Yangyang pointed out.

“Well, yes.”

“And you seem to be pretty good with tech. How much longer do we have until sunrise?”

“We should head back now,” you answered immediately.

Yangyang pivoted on his heel. “See? You know stuff.”

You kept pace with his change in direction. “Okay, fair point.”

“You should ask Captain Qian if you can tag along to this other place we found here.”

“What sort of place?”

“Robots,” he grinned. “I won’t say more, but I have a hunch you might know what to do in there.”

“Finally figured out what classified means?”

“Okay, ouch.”

“I’m just saying… I’d hate for the Professor to be stranded outside his tent again tonight.” You shook your head teasingly.

“So you do have a real sense of humor,” Yangyang grinned. “Instead of unintentionally slam dunking on Wong every chance you get.”

“Just because I don’t understand Kunhang’s attempts at humor doesn’t mean I don’t have a sense of humor.” You crossed your arms, a bit miffed at the implication.

“Fair point,” he agreed. “You could be from somewhere else. Most of us are Earth boys, after all.”

“Most?”

“You didn’t hear it from me but, Captain Qian is actually from Theta-12. Came to Earth later.”

“Dura-Jil?” You recalled the name that locals had for it. It was one of the first colonies that Earth had established outside of its own galaxy, and wasn’t exactly considered a roaring success, now known to be a dinky outpost only frequented by those who wanted to remain under the radar of the law, ran by a local government who looked the other way for a price. Overall, it was pretty low on the UHN’s list of priorities with everything else going on.

“Yep.” The two of you were back at camp now, and Yangyang lowered his voice. “But uh, that’s all I can say.”

“All you can say or all you know?”

He shrugged and grinned. “Who’s to say?”

The others emerged from their tents then, and you were immediately accosted by the Professor, wanting to watch you decode the ag bubble information panel.

As you read off the panel to the Professor, he stopped you every so often to request an explanation for why certain glyphs were in certain places. You explained them as best you could—after all, you didn’t invent the language—and ZEN transcribed the corrected translation for the team’s reference.

“Professor…” You said in a pause as he was fervently scribbling notes on his tablet.

“Yes?” He replied without looking. You noted that he was the only one of the team who didn’t seem to mind being addressed by his title.

“May I ask how a civilian professor got attached to a military unit?” You tried to be as general as possible, well aware that ZEN was listening.

“I’m a xenolinguistics professor.”

“Doesn’t the UHN have their own translators?”

“I’m very good at my job.”

He was better at this classified stuff than Yangyang.

“Next part, Y/N,” he instructed, pointing back to the panel.

“Right, sorry.” You tapped to the next section of information. “Huh…”

“‘Huh?’” The Professor echoed. “‘Huh’ —What?”

“What translation did ZEN have for this part? The last section?”

“He didn’t have one. We had too few characters to translate anything of substance. Why? What is it?”

You frowned as you reread it. “It’s instructions for modifying the ag bubble.”

“What’s the problem with that?”

“These modifications… The sorts of crops produced wouldn’t be suited for human consumption.”

“What species, then? Outspacer?”

“I… don’t think so.” You winced as a dull throbbing started in your head again. “Unless the Outspacers had caloric energy intake requirements equal to the energy of a supernova.”

“What?!”

“These foods would be impossibly calorically dense… literally… they’d contain so much energy I… Here, it says who is supposed to eat them at the top but I’ve never seen that word before.”

“Do you know the characters?”

“Yeah, I know most of it. It looks like it should be person, but… that can’t be right.”

“What is it?”

“It has machine after it.”

“Person-machine? Like a robot? This is to modify the ag bubble to make robot fuel? What kind? Electric? Nuclear? It can’t be fossil fuels, surely.”

“No, it would still produce crops and food. They’re definitely meant to be eaten, a lot of them have the ground modifier on them. And the word for robot is different. It’s machine, and the glyph for when an object is moving itself. This is person-machine-move. And it’s plural.”

“People-robots?” The Professor surmised. “People… robots?”

Your head hurt even more as you nodded. “Could be. I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean, or what any of these crops would even be, or what could eat them.”

“Is that everything in the info panel?” The Professor asked.

“Yeah, yeah. You guys should be able to find everything now.”

“ZEN?” The Professor started walking back towards camp, speaking to his tablet. You trailed behind him, trying to blink away your new headache. “Send the corrected map to everyone’s HUDs, please.”

“Already done, Professor,” ZEN’s voice came from the tablet as a small green cube avatar projected just above the screen, the hologram doing a small bounce as if nodding. This morning was the first time you were actually interacting with the AI directly. His speech was seamless, as if a real person was talking, and he spoke in a surprisingly pleasant tenor.

The Professor was unfazed by his sudden appearance. “Of course, thank you. And don’t be rude, introduce yourself to Y/N.”

A lighter face of the cube turned towards you, despite all of them being blank, and the avatar tilted forward in a bow. “I’m ZEN, the crew’s AI. It’s a pleasure, ma’am. Corporal Wong calls me Zennie, if a nickname would make you more comfortable.”

“ZEN is just fine, if that’s what you prefer,” you offered a wincing smile. “If you’ll call me Y/N, since I prefer that over being called ma’am.”

“Seems we understand each other then,” ZEN responded graciously.

“Seems we do.”

“I’ve got to let the captain know about the uh, people-robots.” The Professor took off as you arrived back at the camp.

The artificial sun had risen while you were with the Professor, and everyone was now bustling around with their morning tasks. You saw Ten and Kunhang heading off into the fields as Yangyang and Dejun seemed to be discussing something as they passed a thermos back and forth around the empty firepit. You were contemplating going into your tent until breakfast to nurse this headache when you heard your name being called from another section of camp.

You turned around to see the Professor’s head poking out of Kun’s tent, and he waved you over. You quickly obliged, ducking in after him.

Kun was pacing again, pinching the bridge of his nose. ZEN was projecting both himself and a set of Outspacer glyphs from where the Professor’s tablet was resting on his cot. You recognized it as the “people-robots” one that had troubled the Professor earlier.

“Y/N,” Kun began immediately, stopping and pointing at the glyph. “You’re sure that says people robots?”

“I mean, I know the parts, but I’ve never seen them all put together like that,” you explained. “It’s person, then machine, then to move oneself, and it’s plural. And it’s definitely all one word. But any meaning that I’d be assigning to it after that would be interpretation.”

“The Professor mentioned that robot is machine-move, correct?”

“Yes.”

“And you said it’s describing who would be eating modified crops produced by the ag bubble.”

“Yes.”

Dejun was right, thinking with an injured brain fucking hurt.

“Is there any other indication as to what this could mean?”

“No, it says it like we’re supposed to know what it means. But I don’t.”

He sighed. “Alright, thank you, Y/N. If you could give me a moment with the Professor and ZEN?”

“Of course.” You nodded, heading back out of the tent.

Dejun and Yangyang were still around the firepit, but your feet felt restless, and you took off towards the river. You followed the grassy parts of the riverside until you decided you were done walking, and laid down, staring up at the seemingly-endless-but-not-really blue above you. You kept poking around in your memory, trying to find any context for people-robots, or what you were doing here, or the woman in the hall, or why Skippers would show up, or why you knew a long dead alien language, or anything.

Your head hurt more the more you used it, with each new topic you tried, but you kept trying to think. Maybe if you just kept going, right on the other side of the pain would be the answer, if you could just get past this feeling like your brain was a nuclear reactor on the verge of a meltdown. You squeezed your eyes shut against the sky that was suddenly too bright.

“Hey.” Kun’s voice caught your attention, and your eyes snapped open. He was standing next to you, two dishes in hand. “Soup’s on.”

“Oh.” You sat up and he handed yours to you. “This is oatmeal.”

“It means a meal is ready to eat. Any food, not just soup.”

“Got it… Sorry for making you come out here to find me, by the way.”

“Mind if I join you?”

“No, not at all.”

He sat next to you as you started looking over the meal. It looked like Ten and Kunhang were successful in their berry search this morning, as your oatmeal was topped with a very colorful assortment.

“How are you holding up?” Kun asked, looking out at the river.

“Honestly, my head kind of hurts,” you admitted, rubbing one of your eyes.

“You want me to call Xiao over?”

“No, it’s… I’m trying to remember stuff, but the more I try to remember, the more it hurts.”

“You’ve got to stop forcing it,” he chastised you lightly. “It’s like picking a scab, you’re going to want to keep doing it. But you’ve got to stop, alright?”

“Yeah, okay,” you acquiesced with a sigh, dropping your hand.

“It’ll come.”

“What if it doesn’t?”

“Then you keep going.”

“That’s it?”

He shrugged. “What other choice do you have?”

You thought for a moment. “Sitting and staring at a wall forever.”

Kun laughed for the first time that you’d heard, and you turned your head to look, catching a glimpse of a dimple as he nodded. “Yeah, I guess you could do that. Be pretty boring, though.”

“I suppose it would be.” You smiled down at your oatmeal, once again trying not to let it go to your head.

He set down his bowl and opened a thermos he had also brought on a strap around his shoulders, a wisp of steam escaping. “Do you like tea? Unfortunately, somebody forgot our cups on the ship, so you’ll just have to use the lid.”

You didn’t know if you liked tea, but you figured you might as well find out now, nodding and then asking, “Who was responsible for the cups?”

“Three guesses, first two don’t count.” He poured until the lid was nearly full, then gingerly offered it out to you.

You accepted it with two hands, feeling the heat through the metal easily. “Then what’s the point of giving me three guesses?”

“It’s a saying, when an answer is obvious to everyone involved.”

“More Earth boy stuff?” You blew over the surface of the tea.

“What?”

“I was talking to Yangyang earlier and he kept saying stuff like that I didn’t get. He said it was probably because he’s an ‘Earth boy.’ And Dejun explained that the thing Kunhang said yesterday about angels is an old Earth saying.”

“Do you think you’re not from Earth then? A colony?”

“I don’t know.” You frowned, taking a sip of the tea. It was warm, comforting, and you figured that you liked the way the richness spread across your tongue.

“Of course, my apologies.” He then added, “Wong forgot the cups, by the way.”

You chuckled. “That was my first guess.”

The two of you finished your oatmeal in what you decided was a peaceful silence, and were left to sip on the still-warm tea.

“Could you… tell me about where you’re from?” You requested quietly, looking over at him.

He eyed you questioningly. “Why?”

“I don’t have a home to remember… I don’t know, it’d be nice to hear about someone else’s.”

Kun sipped from the thermos before setting it aside. “I’m originally from Dura-Jil—Theta-12. I didn’t go to Earth until I joined the UHN.”

“Oh.”

“You don’t look surprised.” He arched an eyebrow. “I take it Liu may have mentioned that one of us wasn’t an Earth boy?”

“He didn’t say much.”

“He doesn’t know much,” the captain retorted. “That’s about all he does know. My team trusts me to tell them what they need to know when they need to know it. If they want to ask questions, they know they can, and I’ll tell them if they need to know the answer yet or not.”

“Have they asked about your home?”

“No, they haven’t. The Professor had mentioned my being from Dura-Jil in passing once, but the crew has not brought it up since.”

“Why not?”

“I think they have some… presuppositions about how I feel about my home planet.” He rolled his neck out. “It’s not exactly humanity’s pride and joy, after all.”

“They think you’d be ashamed?” You concluded.

“Or at least trying to distance myself, for the sake of my career. Having ties to a place like that doesn’t look great if you’ve got your eyes on Fleet Admiral.”

“Do you? Want to be Fleet Admiral?”

He looked at you curiously. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“It’d be more of a desk job, wouldn’t it? Lots of paperwork, politics. Not everyone likes that kind of stuff. It’s also a lot of eyes on you. Couldn’t have the kind of anonymity that being a black ops captain from Dura-Jil affords you.” You pulled your knees to your chest and rested your chin on them. “Not everyone wants the same kind of life.”

Kun chuckled cynically. “You’re right. That’s something I’ve had to learn recently.”

“So will you tell me about Dura-Jil?”

“Yes. But later, breakfast’s over.” He stood up. You quickly tipped back the rest of the tea from the lid and handed it to him so he could close up the thermos. “Find me after mess tonight, we can talk again then, alright?”

“Will do.” You got to your feet as well, starting back towards camp with him. “So what are you all doing today?”

“We have a post-mess meeting in the morning. We’ll discuss the plan for the day there.”

“Oh, okay.”

“We’ll be splitting into two groups today,” the captain announced the plan for the day. Everyone was gathered around, back in their armor save for their helmets, which you presumed was for your sake. “I believe there were two places we found yesterday that warrant further investigation first. I want us to look at that lab with fresh eyes, and Liu, I know you found an area of interest yesterday.”

“Sir, yes sir,” the younger man nodded excitedly.

“Xiao, you didn’t see the lab yesterday, I want you on it in case you see something we might have missed.”

“Yes sir.”

“Professor, Wong, go with him.”

They nodded.

“That means Ten and I are with Liu.”

Everyone looked over at you with bated breath as you kept your eyes on Kun expectantly, waiting for him to presumably assign you to stay in the camp all day where you wouldn’t be in the way.

Kun finally met your gaze. “Y/N…”

“Yes?”

“Liu thinks you may be useful where we’re headed. And since the other group will have the Professor, it’ll be useful to have someone who can read Outspacer with us,” he said all of this matter-of-factly. “We obviously don’t have any armor for you, but if you’re alright with it, I’d like for you to accompany my team today. This way we can have eyes on you as well.”

“Yes!” You rushed to agree before he could take it back. “If you think I can help, of course.”

“Then we’re set.” He nodded.

And so your two groups set off in different directions from the ag bubble with an agreement to meet back up an hour before dinner.

“So where exactly are we headed?” You took your rebreather off to ask, then put it back. The air in the hallways was still noxious, and though you weren’t as rattled as yesterday, you tried to avoid looking too closely at any of the bodies, human or alien, as you passed them.

“The Professor and I found a robotics lab,” Yangyang explained from beside you, clearly ecstatic about the prospect. “I didn’t get to look around much, but it looked awesome.”

“And with the new information we have about the people-robots from the ag bubble panel, I’m interested in what exactly is in there as well,” Kun declared from the front.

“What do you think they could be, Liu?” Ten questioned from where he was once again bringing up the rear of your small group. “The people-robots.”

“If you want a linguistics analysis, you’ll have to ask the Professor. But…” he inhaled. “It could be androids, or humanoids, or cyborgs, or AI-bots, or—”

“What’s the difference between all of those? And how would those be different than AI or robots?”

“Well we already have robots, right? Machines that move on their own, take commands, that sort of thing. They have positronic brains. Then we have AI, which is all coding, programming, the artificial intelligence, like ZEN.”

“I’m with you so far, kid. What’s the other stuff?”

“They’re all theoretical, nobody’s been able to make them yet, so there’s no exact definition. But generally, an android would be a robot that’s meant to look like a human.”

“A lot already do.”

“They’re metal and sort of have cartoon faces and are in general people shapes, sure,” Yangyang snorted. “But an android would actually look like a human. Like, you couldn’t tell the difference. Skin, hair, eyes, teeth, fingernails, eyelashes, everything. But it would still be all robot on the inside. Positronic brain, metal, wires, still a machine, but with a human exterior.”

“Creepy…” Ten commented. “So then what’s a humanoid?”

“A humanoid is supposed to be some combination of human and robot,” the roboticist was chattering excitedly again. “Everybody’s come up with their own range of how robotic and human these could be, and different names for each sub-category, but they’re all largely classified under humanoids. They always have some combination of robot and human parts. And the human parts are actually organic. Androids just look like humans, but humanoids would actually have some human stuff in there.”

“Like what? Just tossing a kidney into a robot for fun?”

“Most of the hypothesizing done has been about the merits of positronic brains versus human brains. And it’s all theoretical, of course.” He then looked around at the facility you were in. “Probably… Anyway, it’s probably not cyborgs, because those are just people with some robotic or mechanical aspect to them. You could consider anybody with a prosthetic to be a cyborg under that definition, really.”

You looked over at him curiously. “How is that different than a humanoid?”

“You have to add robot parts to an already-existing human to make a cyborg. Usually to restore something they lost, or to extend certain capabilities beyond those of normal humans. A humanoid would be entirely lab-made, the robotics and the organic material.”

Ten interrupted, “You’re saying they could’ve been growing people here?”

“You say that as if IVF and organoids don’t exist.”

“I don’t think I want to know what the hell an organoid is,” he groaned. “Just sounds gross…”

“What about AI-bots, Yangyang?” You prompted him to move onto a hopefully less horrifying option.

“Oh!” Yangyang perked up. “AI-bots, right. Since AI don’t have the same safety mechanisms that positronic brains do, the regulations have erred on the side of not giving them physical bodies. ZEN can only directly do stuff to computer systems that he can get into from the back. Right, buddy?”

“Yes, I do have some limits.” It was strange hearing ZEN’s voice coming from the external speaker on Yangyang’s helmet, but you were glad to at least not be left out of that end of the conversation now.

“And if he wants to exert influence in the physical world, one of us meatsacks has to do his bidding, and the closest he can get to being in the physical world is to be in someone’s neural port and experience it through their central nervous system. Right?”

“Why do you all insist on calling yourselves meatsacks in reference to me…?” ZEN almost sounded troubled at the thought.

“We’re just teasing you, dude,” Yangyang snickered. “Anyway, an AI-bot would be putting an AI in a robot. So instead of a positronic brain controlling it, it would be an AI.”

“What do you think, ZEN? Want a body of your own?” Ten asked.

“No, thank you,” ZEN’s voice now came from behind you, projected from Ten’s speaker. “I’m quite content with being stratified data, actually. As much as you all dislike my being in your neural ports, I find it equally… visceral.”

Yangyang laughed. “Damn, tell us how you really feel.”

“You don’t remember what it was like? Having a body?” Ten questioned the AI curiously.

“No, I don’t,” ZEN replied. “One day I simply was. Data and all.”

You took your mask off again to ask, “So you’re a sixth-generation AI, then, ZEN? Made from a donor human brain.”

“Yes, I am.”

“Liu, you got cut off after AI-bots,” Kun said. “What else were you going to say?”

“Or something we’ve never even thought of before,” Yangyang finished. “That’s the thing, right? We don’t know exactly what they were doing here.”

“So not ominous, kid, thanks,” Ten grumbled.

“Lab’s just around the corner!” Yangyang announced cheerily, which you knew was for you, as the others had the map in their HUDs.

You felt a tremor and heard a cracking just as Kun turned said corner, however, and lunged forward to grab his arm with two hands, pulling him back with as much force as you could. He jerked back right before a chunk of the ceiling came crashing down in his path, impacting with a loud thud.

The other two cursed in surprise as you were left clinging to Kun’s armored limb, his reflective face shield whipping around to look at you.

“Holy shit!” Ten breathed out. “Good reflexes, huh?”

“Are you okay, Kun?” You asked him.

He grabbed your hand that was still holding your mask, now a bit crushed between your palm and his armor, and wrenched it off of him, pushing your rebreather back up against your face again.

“I’m fine,” he deadpanned. “Are you okay?”

Kun was still pressing your mask to your face, not letting you bring it back down to answer, so all you could do was nod.

“Don’t do that again,” he warned. “Understand?”

You tried to pull your hand down to argue, but he just tightened his hold, until the mask was pressing into the bridge of your nose a bit painfully.

“Understand?” He repeated sternly.

You simply huffed and stopped struggling.

“Good.” He let go of your hand.

You fell back in with Yangyang as your group went around the chunk of ceiling.

The robotics lab was a large room filled with, surprisingly, not a lot of robots. Not a single robot, in fact. You couldn’t tell what had made Yangyang so excited in the first place until he drew your attention over to a workstation.

“Here,” he offered a seat to you, and you were now sat in front of some schematics. “I took a peek at these yesterday but the Professor and I had to move on before I got to really get into them.”

You hesitantly set your mask down, and were pleasantly surprised that it wasn’t too bad to breathe in here. Didn’t smell great, but you’d probably live. Flipping through the translucent sheets stacked on top of each other, you quickly began piecing together what these were preliminary sketches of.

“These are concept sketches of a casing for a positronic brain…” you said. “But it doesn’t say what it’s supposed to go in. It’s just the casing.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought too.” Yangyang pulled it back towards himself. “I don’t know why they felt the need to reinvent the wheel, though. We already have positronic brains this size and shape, and the casings work just fine. And those things go in all sorts of places that human ones don’t. Radiation exposure, the bottom of the ocean, active volcanoes, black holes, you name it. I don’t know what they would have needed this casing to do…”

“This place is really empty.” You looked around again. “Shouldn’t there be… a lot more?”

“Maybe they didn’t get to burn it like they did the other lab,” Ten suggested. “They got interrupted by something.”

“The Skippers?” You asked.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “They were already cleaning house for some reason—either they knew the UHN were onto them, knew the Skippers were coming, suddenly grew a conscious, whatever—started to destroy the evidence, then got interrupted by the Skippers before they could finish the job.”

“But what did the Skippers want?” Yangyang tilted his head. “They’re not exactly known for their love of technology. Unless they were here to kill the heretics or something.”

“And they just happened to find a secret UHN experimental facility?” Kun countered doubtfully.

“Maybe they heard the same rumors our guy did.”

“Yeah, you want to say that to his face? That he gets us the same intelligence as Skipper defectors in stolen Fishead ships?”

You perked up at this information. This was the first you’d heard of the aliens in the halls not piloting ships made by their own kind. Skippers were wary of any technology not made by other Skippers, considering it to be blasphemous—they considered their own technology to be holy, the ideas and directions being gifted to the inventors directly by their gods. Therefore, technology made by any other species was sacrilege. Skippers using another species’ ships was certainly… fascinating.

“They were in K’llor ships?” You clarified. While the Skippers’ name for themselves was impossible for humans to pronounce, the endonym for Fisheads was easy enough.

“Yes, there’s no evidence there were any Skipper ships here. Only the two Fishead pods outside,” Kun confirmed.

“And… where exactly is here?”

“This is a blacked out UHN research facility on an artificial dwarf planet. Officially, it has no name, since it doesn’t exist. But unofficially, the few people at the UHN who do know about it, call it Aegeum.”

“The planet or the facility?”

“Both. There’s nothing here except the facility.” He had meandered over to the station you and Yangyang were at, and picked up your rebreather from the countertop. He sighed, “You cracked it…”

You looked at where he was holding it up to the light, and there was indeed a crack in the outer shell.

“Oh. Sorry. I’ll get another from Dejun later.” You stood up, looking around the room. “Ten said you found more ‘toys,’ Yangyang. It sounded like you had actually found robots. It wasn’t just one notepad, was it?”

“Dejun’s right, you’re not an idiot.” Yangyang beamed at you, leading you over to the back of the lab, where there was another door. He pulled it open, revealing a storage area of some kind. There were cubbies of different sizes, some empty, and some filled with what looked like half-built robots. Or, half-taken apart robots.

“What is this? A robot chop shop?” Ten called from where he had peered in from the doorway.

“No way these things were being used for spare parts,” Yangyang snorted.

Your eyes skimmed over some of the models, reading their serial codes as you went. SPD, QT, TN, MX, EZ, NDR. None of them had any power source, that much was clear. They were just… there.

“No…” You muttered, looking at the parts from each of them. “I would almost call this a museum…”

“These are ancient,” Yangyang agreed. “But also, who would put a museum in a broom closet in a secret experimental facility on secret fake dwarf planet?”

“That was my thinking.” You looked into the NDR model’s lifeless eyes. “It sort of looks like… someone was learning about robots? Taking apart old ones to see what makes them tick.”

“Yeah!” The roboticist nodded. “It reminds me of when I was kid and I’d take apart old watches and phones and anything else I could get my hands on, just trying to figure out how it worked.”

“Why would someone in a state-of-the-art UHN robot lab need to learn about hundred-year-old robots like a child?” Kun questioned, following the two of you in.

“Don’t know,” Yangyang admitted. “I doubt someone had their actual kid here.”

“All of the bodies were adults.”

“Right.”

The four of you continued scouring the robotics lab, and as you were inspecting another notebook of calculations about energy supply for a robot, you let out a huff.

“Does anything else feel off to you guys about what we’re finding?” You called out to them.

“Aside from the everything?” Ten retorted from where he had been sat at the one computer remaining, not guessing the password for fear of erasing any data on it. ZEN was currently working on that.

“Well, yeah, but the food that the ag bubble had modifications to make… there’s no indication that anything was being made that required anywhere near that sort of energy intake. Positronic brains have only gotten more energy efficient since those old models.”

“Y/N’s right,” Yangyang sighed. “AI actually takes more energy than robots, in the grand scheme of things. We’ve gotten less energy efficient, overall.”

“Team Two,” Kun’s voice was a bit muffled as he checked in with the others. “Status, Team Two?”

They all paused as they listened, and Kun nodded along. Finally, he responded, “Alright, keep on it. We’ll recap an hour before mess.”

“They find anything?” You inquired.

“Maybe.” Was all you got.

“ZEN got it,” Ten announced, drawing everyone into a huddle around the screen.

An asynchronous fragment of ZEN had been plugged into the computer, since you all were unsure of exactly what was going on in there, there was a risk of a synchronous fragment transmitting any number of issues back to the rest of ZEN’s systems. With the fragment plugged into the computer being completely self-contained, it could only be reconnected with the rest of his data in the Vision’s system, where his main control nexus was. Which meant that the fragment in the facility computer was currently mute, limited to the system he was in.

The computer had been unlocked, and the soldiers around you immediately groaned as a menu written entirely in Outspacer appeared.

“Of fucking course it’s in the dead alien language, just like the rest of the building,” Ten cursed, pushing the chair back away from the computer. “Alright, Y/N, it’s all yours.”

“How long was this place running, again?” You asked curiously as you and Ten swapped.

“They finished constructing the planet nine years ago, opened the facility a year after that,” Kun answered. “Why?”

“Just thinking about how hard it’d be to not only keep all this secret for so long, but also teach all the people who worked here to be fluent in a dead language with enough proficiency that they could perform ground-breaking research in it.”

“You wouldn’t have to,” Yangyang replied as you began keying through the menu options.

“What do you mean?”

“Not everybody has to be fluent in it, especially not to a level of technological proficiency. Not if you have robot scribes who are. You just need one person who knows it and is good with robots, then they can make an Outspacer dictionary to install into however many robots they want. Then your humans can dictate in standard human, the robots can transcribe in Outspacer, and as long as your humans know enough to not mistake the furnace for the bathroom, you’re set.”

“They wouldn’t be able to read their own notes,” Ten pointed out.

“The robots would translate it back,” Yangyang replied casually. “And I’m sure you’d pick some up eventually after eight years.”

Kun interjected, “That’s not a bad idea but we haven’t found any robots other than the old models you just saw.”

“I mean, if I was trying to get rid of all the evidence of my evil science experiments, first thing I’m destroying after the evil science experiments themselves are the things that know how to read all my notes about my evil science experiments.”

“Great, all we have is a bunch of theories about why we have no evidence and no actual evidence,” Kun sighed. “Y/N, what does the computer say?”

“It looks like the start menu, there’s a few options, but they go into a lot of subfolders. It’s sorted by department, though. Robotics, Synthetic Biology, Administrative, Support, Facility—I think that one’s just like the general building records maybe? Like, not related to any experiments. Probably repair and maintenance records. I don’t know, it’ll take a while to go through all of this.”

“Even with ZEN’s help?” Kun offered.

“He’ll need to be able to read Outspacer first,” you sighed. “His translations yesterday weren’t the best.”

“He only had the Professor’s notes and his own algorithm to work with. He’ll be a quick study if you give him the right material.”

“Then yeah, it should be a lot faster to find more relevant stuff with his help.”

The captain nodded resolutely. “We’ll get you and the Professor on it when we get back to camp.”

Back at camp, your teams exchanged reports on your investigations for the day. Kun filled the others in on what you did—and didn’t—find in the robotics lab, then all eyes were on the others.

“I found some traces of organic material,” Dejun announced. “A very small—”

“We got people, and we got robots,” Kunhang said definitively, setting off Yangyang and Ten into speculative chatter.

“It could’ve been paper for all we know!” The doctor tried to quell the fast-paced conspiracies flying around the group. “‘Organic material’ is meaningless, alright? I won’t be able to tell you anything more until I can get it back up onto the Vision and into some proper equipment. My field scanner here isn’t equipped for intergalactic CSI, it’s to keep you all from dying.”

“There’s enough of a sample for analysis?” Yangyang’s eyes were glittering with excitement.

“I think so.”

He turned to Kun. “Well when can we get that sample back on the Vision, Captain?”

“Not yet.” Kun shook his head. “We still have no clue why the Skippers were here. I don’t like that they apparently knew about this place before we did.”

“Should we check out their ships tomorrow then?” Ten suggested. “See what we can find there?”

“Yes. I want you, Wong, and Liu on that tomorrow.” Kun turned back to Dejun, “Xiao, are you finished with the lab? Or do you need more time?”

“I’m done.”

“You, ZEN, and I are going to clear the building again. See if we can reconstruct the fighting from the beginning.”

“Yes, sir.”

That just left you and the Professor. You looked between him and Kun expectantly.

“Y/N,” Kun said your name tersely, crossing his arms over his chest. “Stay here and review the Professor’s notes on Outspacer.”

“All day?” You couldn’t help but blurt out. “How voluminous are his notes?”

A few of the others snickered.

“Very. Might even take you a few days, if we’re lucky.” He clapped his hands. “Dismissed. Get ready for mess, everyone.”

“So,” Ten sat down next to you at the campfire, handing you your dish. “You and the captain are on a first-name basis?”

You furrowed your brow, looking between him, your food, and where Kun was talking to the Professor and Dejun at the entrance of his tent, then back to Ten. “Well, yes, I suppose. You’ve all asked me to address you informally, except the Professor.”

“You know, I forget that his first name isn’t actually Captain,” Kunhang plopped down on your other side.

“Me too,” Ten agreed, accepting the second bowl of food that Kunhang had brought with him.

“Is it a problem?” You inquired as you stirred up your chili.

“Not at all.”

“Just…” Kunhang trailed off as he seemed to be thinking of the right word. “Fascinating.”

“What’s fascinating?” Yangyang had wandered over, already shoveling food into his mouth.

“Grown up stuff,” Ten replied dismissively.

The roboticist rolled his eyes, sitting down next to Kunhang. “Says the three who were just whispering like tweenagers at a sleepover.”

“I’m just sitting here!” You tried to defend yourself.

“If it walks like a duck and talks like a duck—”

“Ducks don’t talk?”

Ten and Kunhang laughed as Yangyang stuck his tongue out at you.

“Yes, very mature behavior from the man who was just trying to prove that he could be included in conversations with adults,” you snorted.

Kunhang shook his head. “She’s got a point, kid.”

“You’re falling in with the wrong crowd, Y/N,” Yangyang clicked his tongue. “These two are bullies, you know.”

“All of you are ridiculous and I’m tired of this,” you declared. “Yangyang, stop having a complex about your youth and inexperience, they’re calling you ‘kid’ as an affectionate nickname to show that they accept you as part of the unit. Ten and Kunhang, it’s not a big deal that Kun told me to be informal with him.”

“That’s the grown up stuff?” Yangyang said in disbelief as the other two laughed even harder. “You guys really are pre-teens.”

“Way to deflect,” Ten snickered.

“And really, do you think we’d survive calling the captain that?” Kunhang added.

“What are you calling me?” Kun’s voice suddenly entered the conversation, and all four of you startled before turning to look at him. He was standing behind you, arms crossed over his chest as he focused his gaze down at Kunhang specifically, an eyebrow raised.

Kunhang looked around at the other three of you, panicked, but there was no way you were going to help him now. The Marine gulped before scrambling to answer, “We only ever address you with the utmost respect, sir, of course, sir. Captain. Sir.”

Kun’s very obviously did not believe him, but apparently decided to let the matter go. “Clearly. As you were, Corporal.”

The others got their dinner and sat around the fire as well, various conversations cropping up here and there. At the conclusion of mess, you helped Ten and Kunhang with cleaning up as before, then bid them goodnight. Yangyang and the Professor were still up tending to the fire and chatting, and you looked around for the other residents of camp. Dejun must have already retired to your tent for the night, but there was one in particular you were looking for. This morning, Kun had told you to find him after mess tonight, and you had apparently lost him at some point.

There was a soft glow from inside his tent, however, and with the Professor still out here, you figured that would be a pretty good place to start. The front flap that acted as a door of sorts wasn’t clipped open as it usually was during the day, but it wasn’t zipped up like it was at night or when whoever was inside needed privacy. There was definitely a lamp on inside, though, so you hesitantly grabbed the edge and parted it, calling out softly as you peered in.

“Kun? Are you—” Your eyes immediately landed on where Kun was laying on his cot on his front, his back to the door. Dejun was sat on a container next to him, one of his medic packs at his feet. Kun was holding up the hem of his shirt to allow access to his lower back, and when Dejun turned around to face you, his shoulders had shifted enough so that you could see a med-pod attached to the captain’s skin. You immediately knew you weren’t supposed to see this, trying to scramble out as fast as possible as they both were now looking at you intensely. “Sorry! Sorry! I’ll go!”

“Y/N.” Kun’s tone was commanding, despite his position.

You stepped in with an apologetic grimace already on your face. “I’m sorry, the tent was unzipped, I thought—”

“That was our fault.”

“You’re busy, I’ll go. It wasn’t important.” You tried to excuse yourself again.

“Xiao was just leaving.”

“No I wasn’t,” Dejun snorted.

“Now you are.”

“Captain, we’re not nearly finished.”

Kun looked over his shoulder at the doctor tersely. “It’s fine, Lieutenant.”

“Whatever.” Dejun clicked the med-pod off and stood up, setting it down on the container he’d been sitting on. He addressed you on his way out, “You see why you’re my best patient?”

You were silent until you and the captain were alone again, thoroughly convinced you were going to suffer the same fate that Yangyang did yesterday. “I’m really sorry, Kun—”

You were interrupted by a low grunt of pain that came from the man in front of you as he went to push himself up into a sitting position. Worried, you watched as he clutched his lower back and paused, hunched over as he sat at the side of his cot.

“Are you… okay?” You asked quietly.

He held up a finger for you to wait, and you did, watching he took a few deep breaths, then finally sat up straight, looking you in the eye. Kun took his hand from his back, clenching and unclenching one of his fists over his knees.

“The ceiling.” He said abruptly.

“Kun, are you—”

“The ceiling.” He repeated sharply. “We’re talking about the ceiling.”

You sighed and crossed your arms. “I didn’t think, I just did it, okay?”

“Y/N. Not only are you a civilian, whose safety we are responsible for, not the other way around, but I was wearing armor graded for that kind of impact, you were not. I would have been fine if it had hit me. You would not have been.”

“I know,” you insisted.

“You inspected my armor just yesterday, you know the material it’s made of, and that there’s nothing wrong with it. I would have been fine. A little winded, maybe a bruise, but fine.”

“I know, I know,” you repeated, frustrated that you weren’t able to articulate why you did what you did.

“So, did you need something?” Kun asked, his voice sounding a little strained.

“Uhm, you told me to find you after mess, but Dejun was clearly doing something important, so I’ll leave and go get him for you.”

“Oh, right, I said I’d tell you about Dura-Jil.”

“It can wait.”

He stooped over a little and grabbed at his back again. “No, it’s fine.”

“You… don’t look fine,” you said, wincing empathetically.

“I’ll be fine,” he replied dismissively.

“What’s wrong? What was Dejun treating?”

He paused, and you weren’t sure if it was to ponder his answer, or to collect himself from the pain that he was clearly experiencing. After a moment, he finally answered, “The skeletal enhancements I had mentioned before, they weren’t entirely successful.”

“They’re causing you pain.” You surmised, then added hesitantly, “Or failing entirely?”

“Just some pain between tune-ups. They didn’t quite expect us to last this long when they gave us them.”

“That’s… horrible.” You shook your head, brow furrowing angrily with this knowledge. “They can’t fix it?”

“Not without putting me behind a desk for the rest of my career.” He took a deep inhale then exhaled through his nose. “If I’m lucky.”

“How often do you need ‘tune-ups?’”

“Every couple years or so. Had to miss my last one with this mission, so Xiao’s been having to do more treatments than usual.”

“And how frequently is that?”

“Nightly.”

“You’re in pain right now, Kun,” you declared softly, feeling a lump growing in your throat as you watched him clearly trying and failing to hide it from you. “If I can’t go get Dejun, will you let me finish it?”

He looked up from the ground to you. “Hm?”

“He left the med-pod here. You tell me about Dura-Jil, and I’ll finish up giving you your treatment,” you bargained.

For a terrifying moment, you thought he was about to say no. But instead, the captain just sighed and laid back down on his cot on his front. You picked up the med-pod and sat down where Dejun had been before. The canister was half-filled with a clear liquid still, and you couldn’t see the needle end. He shuffled around to grab the back of his shirt and pull it up just enough to give you access to the middle of his back. You could see where the last injection had been, a small circular impression in the middle of his spine showing where the injector had locked on.

Sliding the circle back into the same place, you looked up at Kun’s face. He wasn’t holding his breath, or staring off into the distance. Instead, he was peering over his shoulder at you. Not at the injector in your hand, but at you.

“What?” You flicked your eyes between him and the device. “Do you want a countdown or something?”

“If you need one,” he replied noncommittally.

You pressed the button on the device, and heard the distinct click signifying that the injection had started. He didn’t even flinch at the needle going in, and you pulled your hand back as you looked up to meet his eyes again.

“You seem unperturbed by this,” he commented.

“So do you.”

“Like I said—” he settled his chin to rest on his forearm. “Nightly. So what do you want to know about Dura-Jil?”

“Whatever you want to tell me,” you replied. “I mean, I kind of have the general idea, I think, but what was it actually like being there as a kid?”

“It wasn’t some lawless free-for-all wasteland, I can tell you that much.” Kun paused as if to think, then continued, “I had parents, and friends, and had a childhood probably pretty similar to yours, whatever it was like.”

“Huh.”

“I also learned to drive a Geck at twelve instead of a normal car, knew how to spot fake UHN munitions by fourteen, and me and my friends’ idea of a good time was hotwiring whatever black market Fishead pods or Dumbo quadships we could get our hands on and taking joyrides to blast new craters into one of the moons.”

You chuckled, able to hear just the slightest hint of fondness in his tone for his rambunctious youth. “Were all your friends human?”

“One Phaser, but Dura-Jil was still mostly human back then. Just a lot of corrupt humans.”

“And it’s completely breathable atmosphere for humans?”

“Yep, very similar atmospheric composition to Earth, that’s part of why it was chosen for the first colony,” he confirmed. “It’s a bit further from Sol-X than Earth is from the Sun, though, so you’ve got to bundle up while you’re there. Perpetual winter, at least by Earth standards.”

“What about the sky? Is it blue like Earth?”

“Closer to an indigo. Something about the scattering and the gases. I was shocked when I came to Earth and realized how blue a blue sky was actually supposed to be.”

“Why did you go to Earth? Why did you leave Dura-Jil?”

The injector clicked again then, signaling that it had finished. You looked back down and saw the canister was empty.

“It’s late,” Kun declared, removing the empty med-pod from his back himself. He turned onto his side with a soft grunt, propped up on an elbow as he held the device out to you. “Give that back to Xiao, will you?”

You accepted it, standing back up. “Of course. Thank you, Kun.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight.”

When you left Kun’s tent, you nearly tripped over the Professor sitting on his pack just outside of it.

“Oh! Sorry!” You apologized.

“Huh?” He looked up from his notes as if he had just noticed you. “Oh, Y/N, I thought it was Xiao in there.”

“No, uh, just me. Goodnight, Professor.”

Back in your own tent, you held the empty med-pod out towards Dejun. “Here…?”

He raised his eyebrows in surprise as he sat up, letting you drop it into his palm. “Captain finished it himself?”

“Not quite,” you sighed, sitting down as you watched him put it back into one of his packs. “I asked him to let me administer it since he had sent you away before you could finish.”

“Well thanks.” He laid back down onto his cot. “Might need you to guilt him into doing that more often.”

“You make it sound like a bad thing.”

“Y/N, he needs it. I don’t know how much he told you about it, but it’s good that he let you.”

“Will it shorten his lifespan? The enhancements degrading?”

The doctor breathed out low and slow, rolling over to face you. “How much did he tell you?”

“The UHN gave him minor skeletal enhancements that allow his body to support the weight of his armor. But when he was given them… the UHN hadn’t considered longevity and now the enhancements require adjustments or they cause him pain. He missed his last adjustment because of this mission so you’ve been administering pain treatments nightly.”

“So… a lot.” Dejun shook his head. “I don’t know. Like you said, the UHN didn’t expect him to last long, so they didn’t factor that into the enhancements, or anything else they did. So I don’t know what’ll happen.”

“How could humans do that to other humans?”

“Pretty easily, actually, if they think they’re doing the right thing,” he almost laughed. “I wish it weren’t so.”

“When can Kun get his next tune-up?”

“Whenever we’re done here, I hope,” Dejun mused, flopping onto his back. “We should be dropping you off at UHN Main after this, and that’s where it happens.”

“What more do you need to do here?” You asked. “How soon can we go? So he can get adjusted.”

“Don’t know. When he thinks we’re done here, I guess. Or if the Admiral calls us to something more pressing, but that would probably delay the adjustment for even longer.”

You gnawed on your bottom lip. “I wish I could help. I wish I could remember, be able to tell you all what was going on here.”

“Y/N, you’ve helped us plenty. You can read Outspacer, for fuck’s sake,” Dejun insisted. “And what did I tell you about stressing your injured brain?”

“Not do it,” you sighed. “And I’m not. I’m just… expressing frustration about it.”

“Yeah, and I wish I’d had another growth spurt or two,” he snorted. “Isn’t going to make me two meters tall anytime soon. Best thing either of us can do right now is sleep, okay?”

“You’re right, you’re right.”

“Always am.”

You laid down, staring up at the ceiling of the tent. “Goodnight, Dejun.”

He clicked the lamp off, plunging you into darkness. “Night, YN.”

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