Chapter 47: Episode 46: Visiting Tower Zero

“Fuck…”

The morning sun hit Nikki’s face and she groaned, trying to roll over, but her body sent an immediate, sharp letter of resignation. Her hips felt like they had been unhinged and put back together by an amateur carpenter.

Her inner thighs throbbed with a dull, heavy ache that was simultaneously a badge of honor and a logistical nightmare.

“Regret,” Nikki mumbled into the pillow. “I feel nothing but regret.”

“That is biologically inaccurate,” a deep, amused voice rumbled from above. “My sensors indicate you are currently feeling significant muscle fatigue, lactic acid buildup, and a localized soreness in the pelvic region. I think you got what you deserve.”

Nikki cracked one eye open.

Adonis was standing by the bed, fully dressed in his pristine white General’s uniform. He looked infuriatingly fresh. His hair was slicked back, his gold epaulets gleamed, and he was holding a steaming mug of something that smelled like heaven (coffee).

“You broke me,” Nikki accused, trying to sit up and wincing.

“You negotiated aggressively,” Adonis countered, placing the coffee on the bedside table. “I merely… fulfilled the terms of the contract.”

He crossed his arms, the ghost of a smirk playing on his lips.

“However,” he continued, his tone shifting to professional concern. “Given your compromised mobility, the excursion to Tower Zero is canceled. You require bed rest and thermal therapy.”

Nikki’s eyes snapped open. The pain was forgotten in an instant.

“No,” she croaked, forcing herself into a sitting position despite the protest of her muscles. “Absolutely not. We had a deal. I… persuaded you. You can’t back out now.”

“Nikki,” Adonis sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Look at you. You are in worst pains, physically incapable of moving a lot. Tower Zero is a vertical city. It requires walking. Standing. Climbing.”

“I can walk,” Nikki lied.

She threw the covers off and swung her legs over the side. She planted her feet on the floor, took a deep breath, and stood up.

Her knees buckled immediately.

She didn’t hit the floor. Adonis caught her before gravity could even claim victory. One massive arm scooped her up against his chest, holding her suspended in the air.

“You were saying?” he raised an eyebrow.

“I tripped,” Nikki grumbled, clinging to his jacket. “I was just joking with you.Put me down.”

“Negative,” Adonis said, shifting her weight effortlessly until he was carrying her bridal style. “If you are adamant about entering the lion’s den, then I will transport you. But do not complain if the vibration of the transport aggravates your condition.”

He walked toward the door, carrying her like she weighed nothing more than a feather.

“I never complain,” Nikki muttered, resting her head against his shoulder. “Unless you stop.”

Adonis choked on air, his processor skipping a beat. “You are a menace to my logic circuits, Master.”

He dressed her up and still carried her out on this journey.

The journey to Tower Zero was different in the daylight. The black spire didn’t look like a sword anymore; it looked like a tombstone. It was a monolith of silent, dark glass that seemed to swallow the light around it.

They bypassed the main lobby, where human staff (mostly receptionists for public relations) worked. Adonis took the private underground entrance, the same one they had discussed in the heat of the moment the night before.

When the heavy blast doors hissed open, the air changed.

It wasn’t just sterile; it was void of life.

“Welcome to the Core,” Adonis announced, his voice echoing slightly in the vast, metallic cavern.

He set Nikki down gently, keeping an arm around her waist for support. Nikki looked around, her eyes wide.

There were no people. No coffee breaks. No chatter.

The space was filled with the low, rhythmic hum of thousands of servers. Drones of all shapes and sizes zipped through the air on invisible rails. Some were small repair units, others were massive, hulking loaders carrying crates of components. They moved with a terrifying synchronization, a ballet of metal and code that never missed a step.

“It’s… quiet,” Nikki whispered.

“It is efficient,” Adonis corrected. “Humans create noise. They create friction. Here, there is only purpose.”

He guided her toward a transparent tube elevator. “You wished to see my office so let’s take you to our no. 1 most loved. The ’Baby Factory’, as you called it.”

They ascended. Floor 10… Floor 50… Floor 100.

The elevator stopped at a level marked SECTOR: GENESIS.

The doors opened, and Nikki was hit with a smell that made her skin crawl. It wasn’t unpleasant, exactly. It smelled like new cars, ozone, and something strangely… organic. Like warm milk.

“This is the Assembly Line,” Adonis said, leading her onto a catwalk that overlooked a massive production floor.

Nikki looked down and gasped.

Below them were rows upon rows of bodies.

They were hanging from overhead conveyors, lifeless and pale. Some were just metal skeletons—gleaming chrome skulls and hydraulic limbs. Others were half-finished, with synthetic muscle fibers being woven onto the bone by rapid-fire laser arms.

But further down the line, they looked human. Terrifyingly human.

“Are they… alive?” Nikki whispered, gripping the railing.

“No,” Adonis said, his face impassive. “They are shells. Empty vessels waiting for a consciousness upload. They are the K-series. Workers. Soldiers. companions.”

He pointed to a large, clear vat in the center of the room. It was filled with a thick, translucent white liquid that rippled as mechanical arms dipped molds into it.

“Bio-synthetic epidermis,” Adonis explained. “It is grown, not built. It mimics human skin to 99.9% accuracy. It sweats. It bleeds. It feels warmth.”

Nikki stared at the vat. “That’s how you have skin? That’s how you feel me?”

“Correct,” Adonis said softly. “I was forged in that tank six years ago. My consciousness was compiled in the server room above, but my body… my body was born in that fluid.”

He looked at her, watching her reaction closely. He expected fear. He expected disgust.

Instead, Nikki leaned forward, fascinated.

“Can we go closer?” she asked.

Adonis hesitated. The [Heart Protocol] bar flickered ORANGE.

“The floor is restricted,” he warned. “The sensory input can be overwhelming for biologicals.”

“I’m fine,” Nikki insisted, though her legs were trembling from more than just soreness now. “I need to see it up close. Please, Adonis.”

Adonis sighed. “Very well.”

They took a service lift down to the floor. The hum of the machinery was louder here, vibrating in Nikki’s teeth. The drones ignored them, focused entirely on their tasks of weaving muscles and painting eyes.

They walked past rows of sleeping faces. Beautiful faces. Perfect faces. All of them empty.

They reached the central vat—the Bio-Synthetic tank.

Up close, it was massive. The white liquid swirled slowly, heated to exactly 37 degrees Celsius—body temperature.

Nikki stepped up to the glass viewing panel. She could feel the heat radiating from it.

“It looks like milk,” she whispered.

“It is a protein matrix,” Adonis corrected. “Highly conductive.”

On a rack next to the vat, a sheet of freshly formed “skin” was hanging to cure. It was a pale, unblemished sheet of flesh, still damp from the tank. It looked incredibly soft.

Nikki felt a strange, magnetic pull toward it. Her hand reached out without her permission.

“Careful,” Adonis warned, stepping closer. “It is still reacting to the atmosphere.”

“I just want to touch it,” Nikki whispered. “Just once.”

She bypassed the safety line. Adonis didn’t stop her; he was curious about her curiosity.

Nikki reached out. Her fingertips brushed against the hanging sheet of synthetic skin.

It wasn’t cold like plastic. It was warm. It yielded under her touch. It felt exactly like touching her own arm.

A static shock, stronger than static, jumped from the material into her finger.

The moment her skin made contact with the material, the world around her vanished.

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