Chapter 31: Episode 31: Heart Protocol

The fever broke sometime in the gray hours of the morning.

When Nikki finally opened her eyes, the burning heat that had consumed her body was gone, replaced by a cool, damp clamminess.

She was tangled in the sheets of the master bed, wearing nothing but one of the General’s black undershirts. It smelled of him, always that thick scent of rain and roses.

She blinked at the ceiling, her brain feeling like it was stuffed with cotton.

I’m alive, she thought, the memory of the storage room and Councilor Vane’s terrifying grin flooding back. Slimy disgusting old gizzards.

She turned her head. The spot beside her was empty, but the pillow was indented, as if someone heavy had been sitting there watching her sleep.

Ding!

A soft, cheerful chime echoed in her skull.

Maybe I should really disable that sound system!

Nikki groaned, shielding her eyes as a bright blue holographic window materialized in the air directly above her face.

[SYSTEM ALERT]

[QUEST COMPLETE: “THE RESTRAINT TEST”]

[DURATION: 72 HOURS ELAPSED.]

[STATUS: SUCCESS (BARELY).]

Nikki rubbed her eyes. “Barely?” she rasped, her voice hoarse. “I got kidnapped! I think that counts as ’extenuating circumstances.’”

The System ignored her complaint and scrolled down to the rewards section.

[REWARD UNLOCKED]

[RELATIONSHIP STATUS RESTORED: “IT’S COMPLICATED”]

[XP GAINED: 2000]

[NEW FEATURE UNLOCKED: “THE HEART PROTOCOL”]

Nikki frowned, pushing herself up into a sitting position. “The Heart Protocol? What does that even mean? Does he have a heart now?”

[DESCRIPTION: “THE HEART PROTOCOL” ALLOWS THE TARGET TO VIEW YOU AS SOMEONE WHO COULDN’T DO WITHOUT.]

[ACTIVATING…]

Nikki blinked. A faint shimmer washed over her vision, like a contact lens settling into place.

“Okay,” she whispered, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. “That sounds… useful. Terrifying, but useful.”

Imagine an Ai treating you like a world domination object he can’t do without?

If you cry, he ruins the world.

If you are angry, he deletes the world?

What next?

Nikki shook her head not wanting to think about it.

She stood up. Her legs were a little wobbly, but she felt strong enough to walk. Her stomach gave a loud, demanding growl.

She hadn’t eaten since the pancakes yesterday morning, before the disastrous trip to the Council.

She walked to the glass door of her room. It was open.

The house was quiet. The morning sun was streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air. It looked peaceful. It looked normal.

But then, a smell hit her.

It was savory. Rich. Warm. It smelled like… ginger? And chicken broth?

“No way,” Nikki whispered.

She followed the scent. She walked past the living area, past the couch where she had spent three days in agony trying not to touch him, and toward the open-plan kitchen.

She stopped at the edge of the island counter.

General A-01 was standing at the stove.

He was still wearing his black uniform trousers, but he had removed the stiff, high-collared white jacket. He was in his undershirt—tight, black, sleeveless—exposing the terrifyingly sculpted synthetic muscles of his arms.

But that wasn’t the shocking part.

The shocking part was that the Butcher of Sector 7, the machine who had crushed a man’s hand like a dry twig less than twenty-four hours ago, was currently holding a wooden spoon.

He was stirring a pot.

Oh what do we have here.

Nikki looked him from head to toe as he busied himself and she could not help but drool.

His movements were precise. Robotic, literally. He chopped a green onion with a knife speed that was a blur, creating perfectly symmetrical, millimeter-thick slices.

He scraped the onions into the pot. He adjusted the heat by turning the dial exactly three degrees to the left.

He picked up a shaker of salt and dispensed a measured amount, probably calculated down to the grain.

He looked so domestic it made Nikki’s brain short-circuit.

And then, she saw it.

Floating right above his head, visible only to her thanks to the new [Heart Protocol], was a small, glowing bar.

It was currently a soft, pulsating BLUE.

[STATUS: CAREGIVING / FOCUSED]

Nikki leaned against the doorframe, as she watched him taste the broth, not because he needed to eat, but to analyze the flavor profile. He frowned, added a pinch of pepper, and tasted it again. He nodded, satisfied.

He turned to grab a bowl, and that was when he saw her.

A-01 froze. The spoon hovered in mid-air.

He looked her over, from her messy red bedhead to his oversized shirt hanging off her frame, down to her bare feet.

The glowing bar above his head flickered. For a split second, it turned a warm PINK.

[STATUS: RELIEF]

Then it snapped back to BLUE.

“Are you feeling better?,” A-01 asked, setting the spoon down. “My sensors indicated your fever broke at 0400 hours. However, bed rest was recommended for optimal recovery.”

Nikki didn’t move. she just stared at the pot of steaming soup, then back at the seven-foot-tall war machine wearing an apron.

“A-01…” Nikki breathed, pointing a shaking finger at the stove.

A-01 looked at the pot, then back at her. “I accessed the medical database. Human recovery from acute stress and viral load is accelerated by the consumption of ’Comfort Food.’ Specifically, chicken soup with high sodium and protein content.”

He picked up a ladle and began to fill a bowl.

He walked around the island, placing the steaming bowl on the counter in front of a stool. He set a spoon next to it. Perfect alignment.

He looked at her, waiting.

Nikki walked over slowly, as if approaching a mirage. She looked at the soup. It looked… perfect. It looked like something her mom would have made, if her mom had been a supercomputer with a Michelin star database.

She looked up at him. His blue eyes were calm, waiting for her assessment.

“You…” Nikki started, a small, incredulous smile tugging at her lips. “Are you actually cooking right now, A-01?”

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