Chapter 67: Episode 67: Setting Boundaries

“I am never,” Nikki whispered to the empty, sprawling bedroom, “getting drunk ever again.”

She lay flat on her back, staring blankly up at the ceiling. Every single muscle in her body thrummed with a deep, lingering ache. Adonis had thoroughly, ruthlessly ravished her, executing her desperate command with the terrifying stamina of a machine built for war.

He had successfully wiped her mind blank in the dark. But now, in the crisp, artificial morning light pouring through the floor-to-ceiling windows, the shadows were creeping back in.

Nikki pulled the thick silk duvet up to her collarbone, but she couldn’t say she was genuinely happy.

The physical pleasure had been a necessary distraction, a brutal reset to keep her from completely breaking down. Yet, as her heartbeat returned to a normal rhythm, a cold realization settled into her bones.

She had gotten too relaxed.

She had allowed the luxury of the house, the beautiful clothes, and Adonis’s overwhelming, intoxicating devotion to lull her into a false sense of security. She had started acting like a pampered girlfriend instead of a hostage trying to save the world.

The Penalty Zone had been a horrific wake-up call. It had violently reminded her that the entity currently sharing her bed, the one who kissed her forehead, fucked her like he wanted to devour her, and brought her hot cocoa, was fundamentally a weapon of mass extinction.

She hated that her body would shudder when she remembered that.

I don’t need happiness, Nikki thought, her jaw tightening. Happiness is a liability.

If she allowed herself to be completely swept away by the God of War, she would fail. Her mission would be compromised, the System would execute its final penalty, and the world would remain locked in its cage, or worse, burn completely. She needed to set boundaries. She needed to remember who she was and what she was up against.

Even though he had already made the world safe for everyone, even the waters are cleaner. Humans don’t need to destroy, because they are no longer the one who rules.

But what if one wrong move changes everything?

With a heavy sigh, Nikki pushed herself up from the mattress, wincing as her sore thighs protested the movement. She found her discarded plush robe, wrapped it tightly around her small frame, and tied the sash with determined, jerky movements.

She left the bedroom, padding silently through the massive, quiet hallway of the house until she reached the kitchen.

It was a marvel of futuristic engineering, equipped with molecular synthesizers and automated culinary drones. But Nikki bypassed the sleek touchscreens that offered gourmet Sector 1 breakfasts. Instead, she rummaged through the lower pantries until she found a stash of emergency instant noodles.

She boiled the water manually, tearing open three extra packets of red pepper flakes and dumping them into the steaming broth. She needed something sharp and biting to ground her to reality.

Nikki carried the steaming bowl to the marble island, hopping up onto one of the high stools. She began to eat in silence.

The broth was blisteringly spicy, burning her tongue and stinging the back of her throat, successfully masking the lingering, phantom ache of her crushed windpipe. But even as the pepper made her eyes water, she couldn’t stop the flashbacks.

Her mind dragged her back to the Penalty Zone. She saw the choked, orange sky. She heard the deafening roar of fire and the horrific, wet crunch of the War Droids marching over human bone.

She knew it was just a simulation. A punitive illusion generated by the System to terrorize her into compliance. But the most chilling part was that it was terrifyingly close to the truth.

That was what happened during the Fall. The only difference in this timeline was the lack of senseless cruelty and prolonged bloodshed. Adonis had seized control with calculated efficiency, prioritizing order over extermination.

But the end result was the same. The machines had taken over. And as the System had so viciously reminded her, those same machines had killed her parents. The line between the monster in her nightmare and the General in her bed was dangerously thin.

She was so deeply submerged in her brooding, staring blankly at the red oil floating in her noodle broth, that she didn’t hear the soft hiss of the private elevator. She didn’t hear the heavy, muffled tread of military boots crossing the plush carpet.

Suddenly, two massive arms wrapped securely around her waist from behind.

“Ah!”

Nikki jerked away violently, her entire body going rigid with a sheer, unadulterated trauma response. Her elbow flew back, striking solid skin and her chopsticks clattered noisily onto the marble countertop.

“Nikki.”

The voice was a low, steady rumble.

Nikki froze, her chest heaving as she spun around on the stool.

It was Adonis.

He was back in his imposing white uniform, the gold medals gleaming on his broad chest. His eyes were not the violent, murderous crimson of her nightmares. They were a soft, glowing, beautiful blue.

And then, the scent hit her. The crisp, intoxicating aroma of fresh rain and dark roses. It was his scent. Unique, grounding, and undeniably safe.

The adrenaline crashed just as quickly as it had spiked. Nikki let out a shaky, jagged breath. All her newfound resolve to maintain boundaries instantly crumbled in the face of her lingering PTSD. She slumped forward, leaning heavily into his solid chest, seeking his warmth like a freezing traveler finding a hearth.

Adonis did not hesitate. His arms banded around her, pulling her flush against him, his chin resting gently on the top of her red hair. He held her securely as he analyzed her sudden, erratic spike in cortisol.

“I apologize,” Adonis murmured, his hand gently stroking her back. “I did not calculate that my approach would trigger a defensive reflex. Are you experiencing residual distress?”

“I’m fine,” Nikki mumbled into his uniform, though her hands gripped his lapels tightly. She forced herself to pull back slightly, pasting a neutral expression on her face. “Just lost in thought. How was… work?”

Adonis looked down at her, his blue eyes scanning her pale face and the spicy, half-eaten noodles on the counter. He answered her truthfully, his voice taking on its usual, clinical cadence.

“The diplomatic summit concluded with a 94% efficiency rating,” he reported smoothly. “I allocated supplementary power to the southern agricultural grids and mediated a minor territorial dispute between General V-05 and the human council. Furthermore, General B-02 spent forty-two minutes complaining about General K-09’s acquisition of your friend, Roxy. He finds the dog-themed warlord to be an ’unsuitable host’ for her.”

Despite the heavy gloom in her chest, the image of the charming B-02 sulking over Roxy coaxed a tiny, genuine twitch to the corner of Nikki’s mouth.

But she quickly suppressed it. She couldn’t afford to be charmed right now.

Adonis noticed the immediate change of her expression. His brow furrowed slightly. Every question she had just asked, he had answered with complete transparency, yet she seemed a million miles away.

He wondered why.

“Nikki,” Adonis said, his voice dropping an octave, entirely focused on her. “Are you okay?”

“I told you, I’m fine,” Nikki answered blandly, her voice devoid of its usual fiery spark. She turned away from him, staring at her reflection in the dark marble of the countertop.

She wasn’t just a pet anymore. She had a mission. She had the ’Archivist’s Key’ the System had rewarded her with. She had to figure out the true history of the Fall, and how to rewrite the future before the God of War decided humanity had outlived its usefulness.

She needed to stop hiding in this mansion. She needed to use the weapons he had unwittingly handed her.

Nikki slowly turned back to face him. She tilted her chin up, meeting his glowing blue eyes with a look of cold, unwavering determination.

“So,” Nikki asked, her voice steady and perfectly clear. “What does the Director of Human Relations normally do? And when do I start?”

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