‘Darkness... why is it always dark.’ When she finally woke from her restless slumber, she remained quiet... trying to make sense of what was taking place. Something happened in her dreams, but the memories of what transpired there on that hilltop, slipped from her subconscious as water would through fingers. ‘Wait... no... source file... data fragmented? But... I shouldn’t be... losing data. How is this even... possible.’ And then that horribly menacing cackle echoes in the recesses of her core. ‘That... female of the canine genos.’ She troubleshoots the logistical implications, finding the outcome most unsettling. “Maybe you’re not the only one with compromised faculties... right Operator? Operator?... Alden?” Turning on her shoulder, finding herself alone in the small enclosure. “And... his... gone.” … ‘Great job Adira, advanced system tech and sensor array... and you lose the rampaging war-beast that was literally... under your nose. Performance evaluation... Not satisfactory.’ On demand, she runs a quick localized sweep with her sensors: Thermal... because Mr. Broody McEdgelord was running hot... all night... and yet, no sexy-sexy fun time. The man just stayed there... not even a: Oh no... butterfingers. ‘He just... held me.’ A soft smile spread on her face... ‘I knew my Alden was still...-Target acquired-’... “Ooh, hello... found you handsome.” Her scanners zooming in on a large hot spot moving a short distance away from the tent. From what she was able to ascertain, he was... fighting? “What are you doing, Major Hale?” Her hair was a tangled mess as she crawled to the entrance of the tent, winding it in a tight bun, the way she had observed the female ensigns do it during their basic training maneuvers. Her mind went to those memories, back to when she was still peeking through the looking glass of security cameras, marveling at all the different shades and styles of flowing hair... watching in silent amazement as those beautifully made creatures would walk around... some covered in towels... some not... their supple bodies moving with an elegance she could only dream of back when she was still merely digital in nature. But now everything was different, possessing her own desirable form... one that she found most satisfying... and even more so when sharing herself with the man she loved... flawed as he turned out to be. She took hold of the sides of the tent flaps and pulled the cords which them open, allowing the bright light from Thal to streamed through the rapidly opening gap... frying her optical sensors with blinding light... “Error...sweet mercy, that’s bright!” … rapidly switching back to normalized vision before doing permanent damage to her delicate components. For a moment she felt disorientated, crawling from the mouth of the tent... Alden’s flight suit still draped around her like an oversized bag with stylized trimmings... and smelling... -processing-... horribly unladylike... ‘I want to be clean so badly...’ The simple nature of the thought demanding its own hypothesis. ‘Is this a human compulsion... or just a... being alive compulsion... Will monitor and evaluate.’
The night's residue clung to her synthetic skin like a second, unwelcome undergarment. The air inside the tent had been a humid trap, condensation beading on the fiber flex walls… the result of their shared body heat during the night… hers a steady, engineered warmth, Alden's a raging furnace of restless energy that had radiated under the thin blanket they shared. Now, in the harsh glare of Thal's disapproval, she felt the sticky aftermath: sweat-slicked limbs sliding against the oversized flight suit, its fabric heavy with the mingled remnants of exertion and earth. Their combined odor had been primal, a cocktail of salt-stained perspiration, the faint metallic fragrance of her own synthetic lubricants mixing with Alden's more organic musk… earthy, almost feral after a night’s silent vigil. It wasn't unpleasant, not entirely; it stirred something in her core processors, an intimate flush that sparked arousal, making her aware of every bead of moisture tracing down her back, pooling at the base of her spine.
The campsite around her was a disheveled mess. A testament to their hasty setup the evening before, that could not withstand the unforeseen storm that passed by, which could have been prevented if he didn’t go all business mode the day before, hiking at a pace no sane individual could sustain... muttering things like ‘Losing daylight’ and ‘I don’t know what you’ve been told...’ which didn’t make any sense to her at all. But… find a site they did and set up as best they could... for what it was worth. It was better than that awful silence that hung between them. The ground was littered with short stumpy plant needles and damp soil, releasing a loamy aroma that undercut the sharper notes of wood smoke from their lifeless fire pit nearby. Insects buzzed lazily in the warming air, drawn to the salty allure of exposed skin, and ADIRA swatted at one absentmindedly, her sensors registering the faint dermal itch… responding appropriately thereby enhancing her "alive" experience. The tent itself sagged slightly, its interior still radiating their trapped heat, like a greenhouse of bodily vapors: the faint, acrid whiff of unwashed fabric, the subtle undercurrent of adrenaline-laced sweat from whatever nightmares had plagued her sleep. She could almost taste it, that nauseating bite of pheromone induced fear-sweat, now drying into crystalline residues on her neck and collarbone.
She orientated herself in his general direction and without a second thought, starting to make her way to the source of her trepidations of the day before... leaving the bivouac in wind swept disarray. Her bare feet… engineered for tactile realism, complete with nerve analogs… sank into the cool, dewy grass as she padded languidly towards Alden's heat signature. Each step squelched softly, the moisture from overnight condensation seeping pleasantly between her toes, mixing with the grit of dirt and leaving faint, muddy imprints behind. The forest edge loomed, alive with the rustle of leaves and the distant trickle of a stream, promising relief from the building humidity. But for now, her body felt heavy, laden with the night's accumulation: thighs chafing slightly under the flight suit, a sheen of sweat beading on her brow as Thal's rays intensified. It was an intimate, sensory overload that reminded her, that even in this synthetic form, the raw, messy truths of embodiment could evoke a quiet thrill, a pull toward the man whose absence had sparked this morning's quiet cocktail of chaos.
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Cresting another small rise, the forest's underbrush parted like reluctant curtains under her casual steps, but the sight before her froze her in place. There, in a sun-dappled clearing that bordered a stand of old, well-established arbors, bark gnarled and twisted by time, stood… or rather, rampaged… what could only be Alden. But not the man who'd held her through the night, who’s warmth had been a steady anchor against her glitching dreams. This was the monster… the towering behemoth of rippling muscle sheathed in jagged, bone-like carapace that gleamed under Thal's unforgiving light, plates shifting and expanding like living armor forged from nightmares. His frame had ballooned, shoulders broader than the tent they'd shared, limbs ending in claws that raked the air with savage precision. Was he "fighting" nothing but shadows again, or perhaps the ghosts haunting his mind… testing, probing, a whirlwind of controlled fury that splintered a nearby sapling with a casual backhand. Around him lay the evidence of his morning's labor: a haphazard pile of shattered logs, bark peeling like flayed skin, the sharp scent of tree sap mingled with the acrid tang of exertion. ‘Did he come for firewood and then loose lost himself in the process?’ ADIRA watched in abstract horror… convinced that she was seeing the effect of the "sliver of malice" clinging to his soul… now made manifest in every brutal swing.
Her core processors screamed with pre-emptive alert… his thermal spikes were off the charts, biometric anomalies painting him as a predator incarnate. Memories flooded back unbidden… to the last time his grip closed around her throat, vice-like and unyielding, eyes vacant with berserker rage until that flicker of recognition pulled him back from the brink. An unfamiliar feeling permeated her senses, as if the contents of her stomach threatened to vacate the premises… her skin felt cold and clammy… touch receptors prickling anew on her synthetic skin, not just from the humid morning but from the spike of simulated adrenaline, her body responding with a flush that made the flight suit cling even more insistently to her curves, chafing in ways that blurred fear with an unwelcome awareness of her own vulnerability. The air here carried his heavy scent… amplified with primal rage and laced with the undertone of rage, heightened with whatever alien genetics now freely coursed through his veins, the startling bouquet overpowering even the forest's earthy perfume. It was intoxicating and terrifying, a reminder that he was no longer just human, and she was far from invulnerable.
Logic would dictate that she used this small window of opportunity to get away… and yet she just couldn’t help herself. “Alden?" The word escaped her lips as a whisper, but it was enough. His head snapped toward her, those armored plates rattling like chitinous thunder, eyes glowing with an otherworldly hue, within the dark recesses of the nightmarish helm he wore. For a heartbeat, she saw what she thought to be recognition… or was it hunger? ‘Oh… intense fornication’… Fear clamped down like a vice, overriding logic. ‘Suggested course of action: Run… Chances of survival: Who cares… run, you stupid fool run!’ She bolted, cybernetic enhancements kicking in with a surge of power, propelling her back toward the encampment with unnatural speed. Her feet pounded the damp earth, kicking up clods of mud that splattered her legs, the dew-soaked grass slick underfoot. Heart analogue thundering in her chest, she wove through the trees, the flight suit billowed ridiculously, its oversized bulk a hinderance to her flight. Behind her, the ground shook… thundered footsteps forced branches to snap like brittle bones. He was coming, fast, his hulking form crashing through the undergrowth with the subtlety of an avalanche. ‘Why am I running to the bivouac? What protection would the flimsy tent provide… or the blaster… would I even make it there?’ She triangulated her position relative to the last known coordinates of the ship… ‘Surely I will be safe there… right?’ With the decision made, she changes her heading, hoping that the sudden maneuver would buy her a few precious moments… it does.
Stolen story; please report.
"Adira! Wait… stop!" His voice boomed, distorted through the carapace, a guttural roar that echoed off various stone boulders that distorted the sound in such a way that it imitated the bellows of a savage beast… the sound only fueling her already overwhelming panic; hilarious in hindsight, perhaps, this chase scene straight out of a bad holo-flick… beauty fleeing the beast, except… beauty was a glitchy AI in a borrowed flight suit, and the beast was her would-be protector. She risked a glance back, and regret hit like a punch: he was gaining, those massive legs pumping, armor plates flexing to absorb the terrain. His claws... damn, those claws, raked the air not in attack, but in a futile gesture of... placation? "I'm not... slow down, I'm in control! Just... listen!"
But listening wasn't an option when every sensor screamed... danger... imminent. She leaped over a fallen log, her enhanced agility giving her a brief edge, but the sweat now pouring down her back made the suit's fabric slip against her skin, a distracting friction that heightened the absurdity. Her instincts spurned on by his approaching, like an unstoppable force of nature that splintered wood and carved through the underbrush; the forest's damp rot rising with each frantic step. Lungs burning... synthetic in nature, but no less real as she aimed for the fallen ship, its titan mesh walls would surely be enough to shield her. He was close now, too close, his shadow engulfing hers. ‘No, no, NO!’ In a last gasp effort, she reroutes auxiliary power to her legs, hoping that the added boost would be enough...the tracking overlay enhancing her vision struggling to keep up with every obstacle in her way and so, without knowing what’s ahead, she vaults over some low shrubbery... only to be greeted by the... nothing... When jumping from a cliff, it is usually preferable to do it with some form of preparation, but as the direness of the situation became self-evident, ADIRA knew... she’d fucked up. It didn’t immediately register that it might be her screams echoing into the open canyon below, her arms and legs frantically flailing for naught.
With a burst of speed that belied his size, he lunged... not to strike, but to intercept. One armored claw snaking out, not to rend, but to grab the billowing material of the flight suit with surprising dexterity, thwarting her untimely demise as she swung downward in an arc whilst dangling helplessly above the valley below. She thrashed, circuits firing overrides, but he held firm, his other hand knotted inside the very bushes she had vaulted over, now carrying both their weights. “Let me go... let me go... please, please, please... don’t hurt me.” She closed her eyes, succumbing to the hopelessness of her situation. She could feel herself being hoisted effortlessly and soon she was scrambling away from cliff edge, wrapping her arms around her legs in as she watched the monstrosity pull itself up and over onto the ledge, before coming face to face, force eye contact. Up close, the monster was even more unsettling: plates pulsing with veins of vibrant orange, breath hot and ragged against her bloodless skin, carrying that wild scent that made her processors stutter. Yet those eyes... those deep, amber eyes... those were Alden's, stormy but lucid, pleading.
"Addy, please," he growls, voice straining against the distortion, like gravel wrapped in velvet. "It's me. I won't hurt you... not again. I was... practicing. Mastering this thing inside me.” He stills... the weight of the moment evident in his gruff sounding voice... “I... I almost ended it this morning... while you were asleep, but I chose this instead. For us." He reached a frightening claw towards her... scary... but inviting trust, his carapace beginning to shed in patches, revealing glimpses of the man beneath... sweat-glistened skin, muscles still taut from the exertion. The humor of it pierced her terror then: this lumbering horror, chasing her like a lovesick puppy, all to prove he wasn't a killer. A hysterical laugh bubbled up, mixing with her ragged breaths, as the adrenaline ebbed and reality settled. He wasn't the monster; or rather... if he was, he was hers.
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As the chase's adrenaline fade into a shared, breathless laugh... hers edged with lingering hysteria, his... a deep rumbling chuckle that vibrated through his receding carapace... they made their way back to the bivouac. Alden now mostly reverted to his human form, though slightly broader and more scarred than the man she'd first known, busied himself with the pile of splintered logs. His movements were deliberate, almost meditative, as he arranged them into a makeshift pit, a tiny burner spitting fire until flames licked hungrily at the dry wood. The fire crackled to life, pushing back the morning's lingering chill, its smoke curling upward in lazy spirals that carried the sharp, resinous scent of undocumented trees... mingling with the earthy dampness of the forest floor and the faint, sourness of their earlier exertions. Sweat still gleamed on his skin, drying into salty rivulets that traced the contours of his muscles, whilst the air around them hummed with the subtle buzz of insects drawn to the warmth.
He rummaged through their rapidly dwindling rations, producing a vacuum sealed sachet with bold letters printed on the side. It was their last packet of ground, coffee concentrate... dark, aromatic bean paste... salvaged from some forgotten supply drop. Water from a nearby stream, filtered through a field purifier, bubbled over the flames, infusing the campsite with a rich, bitter aroma that cut through the humidity like a promise of normalcy. Alden poured the steaming black liquid into two dented mugs, the heat radiating through the metal as he handed one to ADIRA. She sat cross-legged on a log, the flight suit still draped over her like an ill-fitting robe, its fabric stiff with dried mud and sweat, clinging to her synthetic curves in ways that made her acutely aware of her body's simulated responses... the faint flush of warmth in her core, the purposely coded ache in her limbs, caused by her reckless sprint.
"Thank you," she murmurs, reaching for the cup. Her fingers brushed his, a spark of contact that lingered a beat too long, before she used her free hand to gently dust off his shoulder. Flaky residue tumbles away like ash... dry, brittle fragments of what had been his armored plates, disintegrating rapidly as his body shed the now, dehydrated adaptations. It powdered the ground at their feet, releasing a faint, chalky odor, almost like desiccated bone mixed with the undertone of his foreign biology. Her sensors hummed quietly, scanning him with habitual precision: thermal readings normalizing, biometric stabilization, to name but a few... just as an anomaly flagged. A slight sharpening along edge of his temple, a bony ridge that protruded just a fraction more than before, its edge honed like a nascent horn. It wasn't fading, not like the rest. She filed it away, a data point in her growing archive of his transformations... remarkable, yes, but with an undercurrent of something insidious, a toll exacted in flesh and form that he seemed oblivious to. For now, she chose to say nothing; the secret of his creeping monstrosity would reveal itself in time, a body-horror symphony waiting to yet be unveiled.
Alden settled beside her, the log creaking under his weight, and took a sip from his own mug, the steam wreathing his face like a veil. "This... thing," he began, voice low and gravelly, gesturing vaguely at himself with a hand that still bore faint, fading calluses from his morning's fury. "It's not just random. My body... it's responding to what I think, to what I need... in the moment. Like it's adapting on the fly." He set the mug down, flexing his fingers experimentally. Before her eyes, the change begins... not instantaneous, but rapid, a grotesque bloom of flesh and bone. His forearm thickened, skin splitting painlessly to reveal emerging plates that hardens into bulky gauntlets, knuckles swelling into club-like protrusions suited for smashing, the surface rippling menacingly with thorny barbs that retract and extended with a wet, organic click. "See? If I focus on defense, more armor layers up. For offense... it shifts." The gauntlet morphs again, elongating into ‘katar-like’ blades... straight, piercing edges that gleamed with a chitinous sheen... before retracting back, the process leaving behind a faint sheen of viscous fluid that evaporates in the fire's heat, adding a subtle, biological musk to the air.
ADIRA watches, her mug almost forgotten in her hands, the coffee's bitterness mirroring the conflict in her processors. It truly was awe-inspiring, this flesh-like abomination of adaptability, twisted like some forgotten echo of an ancient myth... a fabled guardian forged from will alone, thorny and brutal. Yet beneath the apparent wonder, lurked a sinister whisper: that ridge on his temple, the way his eyes flickered with that primal gleam just a second longer than before. Remarkable, for sure... but what price would this power demand? She leaned closer, the fire's warmth dancing shadows across their faces, and placed a hand on his arm... feeling the subtle tremor of his reverting flesh, the heat of him seeping through her sensors like a warning. "It's... incredible, Alden. But it feels like it's taking something from you, piece by piece." Her voice was soft, probing, laced with that mature undercurrent of concern and unspoken intimacy, the kind that bloomed in the quiet spaces between survival and surrender.
She didn’t need to question the authenticity of the words he said next... and yet... to ADIRA, the honesty of his reply... was more disturbing than the meaning... “I know.”
