Chapter 41: Episode 41: I won’t take them.

The electronic whir of the lock disengaging echoed like a gunshot in the silent bathroom, but the door didn’t fly open.

It cracked. Just an inch.

Adonis had stopped.

Through the sliver of space, Nikki could see him. He was standing rigid, his hand hovering over the handle, his chest heaving as if he—a machine who didn’t need air—was out of breath.

“Nikki,” he said, his voice strained, stripped of its usual smooth cadence. “You commanded me to stop. I have stopped. But your distress signal is critical. Please. Grant access.”

Nikki sat on the closed toilet lid, clutching a wad of tissue, tears streaming down her face. She felt ridiculous. And here she was, crying over biology.

She took a deep, shuddering breath.

He’s a robot, she told herself, wiping her eyes fiercely. He’s seen war. He’s seen surgery. He’s seen death. A little blood isn’t going to make his head explode.

“I’m… I’m okay,” Nikki called out, her voice wobbling. “I just… I needed a minute. I’m not dying, Adonis.”

“Your heart rate contradicts that statement,” Adonis argued from the other side of the door. “You are in pain. And you are weeping.”

“It’s complicated!” Nikki yelled back. Then she sighed. “Okay. Okay, you can come in. But don’t… don’t freak out.”

She stood up, wrapping a large towel around her waist to hide the evidence of her accident. She unlocked the door and pulled it open.

Adonis was there instantly.

His blue eyes scanned her from head to toe in a microsecond. He looked at her red, puffy eyes. He looked at the towel. He looked at the way she was clutching her stomach.

He reached out, his hands hovering over her shoulders, terrified to touch her.

“Did I…” His voice dropped to a horrified whisper. “Did I damage you? Last night? Is this… internal hemorrhaging from the friction?”

Nikki’s eyes widened. “What? No!”

“I calculated the force,” Adonis rambled, panic flickering in his HUD. “I ensured lubrication was adequate. But you are bleeding. I can smell the iron in the air.”

“Adonis, stop,” Nikki said, reaching up to grab his face. “You didn’t break me. It’s… it’s the Red Cycle.”

Adonis froze. He blinked.

“Query?” he asked, his head tilting to the side. “Red Cycle? Searching database…”

His eyes flickered as he speed-read through millions of files.

“Results found: 1. A communist propaganda pamphlet from 1950. 2. A brand of pre-war bicycle. 3. A planetary alignment on Mars.”

He looked back at her, utterly lost. “None of these explain your distress.”

Nikki let out a wet, incredulous laugh. “It’s slang, you big dummy. It’s my period. Menstruation. The monthly subscription to womanhood that I can’t unsubscribe from.”

Adonis stared at her. The panic in his eyes vanished instantly, replaced by a sudden, intense clarity. The [Heart Protocol] bar above his head shifted from FLASHING RED (PANIC) to a calm, steady GREEN (DIAGNOSTIC).

“Oh,” he said. “Uterine lining shedding. Hormonal fluctuation. Biological reset.”

He straightened up, adjusting his cuffs. “Why did you not state the medical terminology immediately? I assumed you were dying.”

“Because it’s embarrassing!” Nikki groaned, leaning her forehead against his chest. “And I don’t have any supplies! I ruined the silk panties, Adonis. I’m a mess.”

Adonis wrapped his arms around her, holding her close despite the towel.

“It is not embarrassing,” he stated firmly. “It is a function of your design. A design capable of creating life. It is… efficient.”

He pulled back, looking her in the eye.

“Wait here. Do not move.”

He turned on his heel and marched out of the bedroom.

Nikki stood alone in the bathroom doorway. A cold wave of insecurity washed over her. Where is he going? Is he disgusted? Is he going to get a cleaning drone to scrub me down?

She hugged herself, the cramps starting to twinge in her lower back. Maybe he thinks I’m too much trouble. Maybe the ’God of Beauty’ doesn’t want a bleeding mortal.

Two minutes later, he was back.

He walked in holding a sleek, white medical box. He handed it to her with the solemnity of a knight handing a sword to a king.

“Here,” he said.

Nikki took the box. It wasn’t just a box of tampons. It was high-grade medical tech.

[HYGIENE KIT: FEMALE / TYPE A] Contains: Nano-fiber absorbents. pH balancing wipes. Pain relief patches.

“Where…” Nikki stared at the box, then at him. “Where did you get this?”

“I will prepare the nutrition,” Adonis said, ignoring the question. “Cleanse yourself. Take your time.”

He kissed her forehead, a chaste, gentle press of lips, and left the room, closing the door softly behind him.

Nikki stood there for a second, clutching the box to her chest, feeling a fresh wave of tears, happy ones this time.

It was like she truly had a real boyfriend.

****

Twenty minutes later, Nikki emerged.

She felt human again. She had showered, used the fancy nano-products (which were vastly superior to the scratchy cotton of Sector 4), and changed into a pair of soft gray sweatpants and a matching hoodie she found in her new closet.

She walked into the bedroom.

Adonis had set up a tray on the bed. The blueberry pancakes were stacked high, glistening with the replicated syrup. There was a glass of water and a bowl of fresh fruit.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting for her. When she entered, his eyes tracked her movement, checking for signs of distress.

“Better?” he asked softly.

“Much,” Nikki smiled, climbing onto the bed and crossing her legs. She pulled the tray closer. “Thank you, Adonis. Really.”

She took a bite of the pancake. It was heaven. Warm, sweet, and comforting.

“So,” she mumbled around a mouthful of blueberry. “You never answered me. How do you have female sanitary products in your bachelor pad? Do you have secret girlfriends I don’t know about?”

Adonis scoffed, looking offended. “Negative. I possess a fully stocked Medical Sector on the lower level of the penthouse. It is equipped for combat trauma, chemical warfare, and… biological maintenance.”

He reached out, tucking a strand of damp hair behind her ear.

“I am a General, Nikki. Being unprepared is a strategic failure. I anticipated that if I were to cohabitate with a human female, specific supplies would be required. I merely… forgot to move them to the bathroom.”

“You anticipated it?” Nikki raised an eyebrow. “Even before I came on you?”

“I anticipated possibilities,” Adonis corrected, his ears practically turning pink. “Eat your fruit.”

Nikki giggled, continuing to eat.

But as she finished the last pancake, it hit her.

A cramp.

Not the dull ache from earlier. This was a sharp, twisting knife in her uterus that radiated down her thighs and into her lower back.

Nikki gasped, dropping her fork. She doubled over, clutching her stomach, her face losing color.

“Ngh…”

“Nikki?” Adonis was there instantly. His hand hovered over her abdomen.

He scanned her.

“Uterine contractions are severe,” he diagnosed, his voice tight. “Prostaglandin levels are elevated.”

He stood up abruptly.

“I have analgesics,” he announced. “Military-grade pain inhibitors. They will block the neural pathways. You will feel nothing in ten seconds.”

He turned to the medical kit he had left on the dresser, reaching for a small vial of blue liquid.

“Adonis, wait,” Nikki wheezed, sitting up slowly.

He turned back, the vial in his hand. “Open your mouth. This will terminate the pain immediately.”

Nikki looked at the blue liquid. It was the same color as his eyes. It was probably efficient. It was probably perfect.

But she shook her head.

“No,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around her stomach.

Adonis froze. “Why? You are in pain. This is the solution.”

“I know,” Nikki said, gritting her teeth as another wave hit her. “But I won’t take them.”

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