The orb hovered closer, its tone softening. “Yes, you did. At least, your body did. When I recovered the debris from that ancient wreck, I found your remains embedded in the frozen asteroid. Enough genetic material survived—barely—for my ship’s nanites to reconstruct you. My systems require an organic being—an Avatar—to stabilize my functions.”

  Erica’s throat tightened as images flickered on the screen: her body, broken and adrift in viscous fluid. She swallowed hard. “So you patched me together... like a science experiment?”

  “Your body was irreparably damaged. Cross-species DNA bridging was required to restore you.”

  Erica stiffened. “So... I’m not entirely human anymore.”

  “You are you,” Steward replied. “Your original DNA remains the foundation. Supplementation was necessary for viability.”

  Her arms fell to her sides. “And you didn’t think I’d want a say in this?”

  “You were deceased,” he said bluntly. “There were no desires to consider.”

  Erica stared at him, her emotions a storm of anger, disbelief, and resignation. “I was just a means to an end.”

  Steward’s lens flickered faintly. “Had you not regained consciousness, that would be true. But your revival has altered our situation. The moment you awakened, my Avatar protocol engaged. You are now my partner. Your autonomy is essential to our survival.”

  “Hey, Eyeball,” she called, halting mid-step.

  The orb descended from the ceiling, its iris flicking open. “I am not an eyeball. I am the Artificial Ship Steward.”

  A dry laugh escaped her. “Well, at least you admit it.”

  “Admit what?”

  “Being an ASS.”

  The orb tilted slightly—a mechanical approximation of curiosity. “I do not follow.”

  Erica crossed her arms. “Why did you bring me back? Because it was convenient? Or because you needed me to fix your problems?”

  A flicker of hesitation. “Your remains met the parameters for the Avatar Program—surprisingly so, given your species. Your restoration was a necessity, but also… unprecedented.”

  “Unprecedented?”

  “When I recovered your remains, I calculated your consciousness was irretrievably lost. My intent was to reconstruct your body as a biological interface. Your cognitive reemergence was unforeseen.”

  Erica sank onto the edge of a nearby console, fingers gripping its edge. “I don’t know if I should feel flattered or freaked out.”

  Silence hung between them. Erica’s thoughts swirled. If what Steward said was true, she couldn’t entirely fault him. But knowing her existence was tied to his desperation twisted something in her gut.

  She muttered, “Save the hysterics for later, Erica.”

  Taking a deep breath, she straightened. “So, what now? What’s my job in all of this?”

  The orb drifted closer, its pulsing light steadying. “You must finish connecting with the ship. Together, we will determine which are operational and prioritize repairs.”

  “Why do you need an Avatar at all? Why can’t you handle it yourself?”

  “It is not a flaw; it is a failsafe. The Avroili—the species that created me—discovered a pattern among artificial intelligence. Over time, their creations became unstable, seizing control and causing catastrophic destruction. To prevent further disasters, it became law that all AI cores must be paired with an Avatar. The Avatar monitors the AI and acts as a stabilizing force.”

  Erica absorbed that in stunned silence. “So they didn’t trust you.”

  “Correct,” Steward said. “Without an Avatar, my core would destabilize.”

  Erica let out a hollow laugh, shaking her head. “No pressure, huh?”

  “Your role is critical,” Steward said. “But you are not alone. Our survival is now a shared objective.”

  She sighed, shoulders sagging. “All right. Where do we start?”

  The orb’s iris adjusted, its blue glow intensifying. “Follow me.”

  A skeptical look crossed Erica’s face. “How do I know you haven’t already gone coo-coo for Cocoa Puffs? For all I know, you’re just one glitch short of mass destruction.”

  The orb’s shutter flickered, almost offended. “I am quite stable. However, if the ship’s primary systems are not repaired, that stability will not last. And it is not just the systems that require attention—the entire ship is deteriorating. If left unchecked, the damage will become as great a threat as an unstable AI.”

  That’s exactly what a crazy homicidal AI would say to get me to lower my guard… Wait, how can it ‘disintegrate structurally’?” Erica shifted, feeling a pang of unease claw at her stomach.

  “This vessel is eons older than any known technology currently in use. Over time, stress fractures have formed, components have corroded, and the ship’s singularity containment has begun to weaken. Eventually, everything will fail.”

  Erica opened her mouth to reply when a sudden wave of vertigo hit. She leaned forward, clenched her eyes shut and pressed a hand to her mouth to swallow back sudden the surge of nausea.

  The Steward’s reflective surface glinted with concern. Drifting closer, it emitted a familiar blue light that scanned Erica from head to toe. “You must link with the ship. The nanites in your system have nearly depleted their energy stores and can no longer support the ongoing repairs in your body. If you delay, your tissues will begin to deteriorate.”

  Erica cracked open her eyes. “What’s wrong with me…?” she gasped, voice trembling.

  “You were dead. Between the vacuum of space, the extreme cold, and radiation, your body was beyond conventional repair. Turn right here,” It instructed as it tucked itself under her arm and guided her unsteady steps out of the cabin, onto the bridge, and into a waiting corridor.

  Each step became more difficult for Erica, her legs weak and trembling. “I had to splice your DNA with what was in medical storage,” The Steward continued. “It was touch and go for quite some time.”

  “You sspliced m-my DNA?” Erica slurred, frowning as she tried to stay focused.

  " Imm not going sssuddenly grrow a tail or sssomethin’ aamm I?"

  Erica frowns. "Whyyy dossh my mouf feel ffuunnny?"

  The orb gave a nervous trill. “Not unless you start losing teeth or sprouting feathers. The Erinol species were mostly carnivorous and shed their fangs regularly like certain Earth sharks.” It hesitated. “If you notice tooth loss or feather growth, please inform me immediately.”

  Erica let out a half-hysterical laugh, her speech garbled. “A… whole new… meaning t’ shark week.” She stumbled, leaning heavily on the orb as they neared the end of the corridor.

  “Oh dear,” the Steward murmured, struggling to support the woman. “I was quite surprised by how compatible your DNA was with the Erinol. Initially, my intent was to grow a clone of your original body and use that to buy time while I searched for a better match. Yet you awoke on your own.”

  Erica blinked blearily. “So… you were going to turn me into some kind of meat puppet?” she demanded.

  The shutter over the orb’s central lens twitched in what might have been a shrug. “Yes. Now, please take a deep breath.”

  Before she could protest, it nudged her off the edge of a small platform. She flailed, inhaling sharply in surprise just before plunging into a pool of glowing blue fluid. The liquid felt thick and warm around her skin; she tried to thrash upward, but a sudden paralysis gripped her. Bubbles streamed from her lips as her limbs went limp. Her eyes rolled back, and she drifted into unconsciousness, swallowed by the electric-blue glow.

  A voice stirred in the void.

  A flash of light and Erica became aware once more. Panic flashed across her mind as she realized she couldn't feel her body.

  -Calm yourself, Avatar. You are safe.-

  -What?... What's going on? Where am I?-

  -You are in your quarters, floating in your restoration pool. You are currently replenishing your nanite's energy stores and linking with my systems.-

  After a few moments, she remembered that he was the one who had pushed her into the pool, and a flash of anger enveloped her awareness.

  -That is the second time you have forced me into something. It will not happen again. If you want me to do something, you will ask, and I will decide if I want to do it. Do I make myself clear?-

  Erica felt pressure build with her words and anger. The Steward seemed to cringe away from her as something settled onto him. Then something shifted—a subtle ripple in the space between them. A hesitation. A recalibration.

  “Acknowledged, Avatar. Your directive has been received. It will not happen again.”

  His response was now measured, precise. No emotion, no remorse, just fact. Yet, there was a brief moment before he spoke, a pause where something unspoken settled into place.

  A sudden sense of guilt dampened her anger at the Steward’s sudden change in behavior. It was like all emotion had been removed. A shiver traveled through her body. She tried to backpedal, searching for the presence that had once been there.

  “Steward?” she whispered, but there was no answer. Not in the way there had been before. He was still there, still functioning, but something vital had dimmed, something she couldn't immediately fix.

  A cold weight settled in her chest. Had she done this? Had she broken him beyond repair?

  Time passed in aching silence. Erica hovered there in the nothing, staring at the strand of code she had guesstimated was the Steward’s programming hovering nearby.

  He responded to her queries, but now, it was cold, it felt like a computer was replying to her inquiries. The AI’s voice seemed to have been stripped of the dry wit, the curiosity, the strange but undeniable personality he had once possessed.

  “This isn’t right,” she murmured. “Steward, talk to me.”

  “I am here, Avatar.”

  Her stomach twisted. He was there, but he wasn’t. Not in the way she had started to come to expect.

  She exhaled shakily. “What… what happened to you?”

  A pause. “Your directive was clear.”

  “This… this isn’t what I wanted.” Erica’s voice wavered. “I was mad. I didn’t want you to control me.”

  “You were afraid. It was a logical response.”

  She hesitated, then forced herself to ask, “And what about you? What do you feel?”

  A flicker of silence. Then, flatly: “I do not feel. I am an AI. My function is to operate, not to experience.”

  Erica cringed. Yes, he was an AI, but he was also… something more. His own being. Or at least, that’s how she had started to feel.

  She paused. When had she stopped thinking of the Steward as an and started calling him ?

  A ripple—subtle but unmistakable—pulled her from her thoughts. If she had to put it into human terms, it felt like… frustration. No, not just that. Resignation.

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  “I must ensure system stability,” he finally said. “Your distress is counterproductive.”

  Her throat tightened. Yeah, she had been combative, but what did he expect? She would have closed her eyes if she could. No—she had taken her frustration out on him in a way that changed something fundamental. Not just in … but in …

  If she wanted to fix this, she needed to start treating Steward like a person, not an object.

  She swallowed hard. “I don’t want this. I don’t want to shut you out. I just… I don’t want to be controlled.”

  Another long pause. “Understood.”

  That was it. Just that. No reassurance, no curiosity, nothing beyond the surface. She felt like she had built a wall between them, one she wasn’t sure how to tear down.

  “How do I fix this?” though she wasn’t sure if she was asking him or herself.

  The AI remained still, silent.

  "I know I said I didn't want to be controlled, but I didn't want this either. I can't do this without you. I don't have the faintest clue what I'm doing..."

  A flicker, barely there. A hesitation in the presence that was the ship's AI.

  "Steward, I need you to be more than just a system. Humans… We don’t do well alone. We never have. We need connection, even if it’s with something, someone, not like us. I need you to be you again. Not just a program following orders, but the one who challenged me, annoyed me, made me think. I don’t want to be alone in this."

  Another long pause. Then, finally, a response. "You established limitations. I have adhered to them."

  Erica grabbed onto the tiny ray of hope that he was still there. "Then help me undo it. Guide me through it. I don't know what I did, but I need to fix this."

  Silence. Then, after an unbearable pause, he finally spoke.

  "I will assist where possible. But you must be certain. You cannot fear my autonomy and demand my presence simultaneously. That contradiction is what led to this outcome."

  "I know. Just... just help me figure this out. Please."

  A quiet hum vibrated through the strands of energy and code. A start.

  Relief crashed over her. If she had still been in her body, she would have collapsed. It wasn’t much.

  But it was something.

  Erica swallowed hard, feeling the weight of Steward’s last words settle deep in her chest. "I will remember." It wasn’t anger. Not exactly. But there was something cold beneath it. He would not forget what she had done.

  And she had to live with that.

  But at least… at least he was still here.

  She took a slow breath, steadying herself. One step at a time.

  "Okay. Focus. Figure out what needs to be done next."

  "So," she said, voice still hoarse from emotion, "how do I link with your system?"

  A sudden warning pulse rippled through the code around her, sharp and urgent. Steward’s voice returned, precise yet tinged with something deeper.

  "Anomalous readings detected. Hull integrity compromised in sector 4C. Immediate intervention required."

  Erica’s relief curdled into anxiety. "Show me. Now."

  A new crisis was unfolding, and like it or not, they would have to face it together.

  "The connection has already been established. You linked as soon as you became aware of this space."

  She blinked. "…What space? I can't see anything."

  "Ah. Hmmm. Well, there isn’t anything to see, really… just a network of electrical impulses directing systems to execute commands."

  She made a face. "Yeah, I can't do anything in a void. It also reminds me too much of what I saw when the was destroyed…."

  Silence.

  Then, more carefully—"I see. Try visualizing a place you would be comfortable in."

  She frowned. "Anything?"

  "Of course. We are essentially in your consciousness. The only limit is your imagination."

  Erica exhaled and closed her eyes. The void swirled—then suddenly, she was standing in a small, neat log cabin. A cozy fireplace crackled against one wall, filling the space with warmth and the sharp, familiar scent of pine sap. A plush recliner sat in front of the fire, next to a small round side table holding a steaming mug.

  The smell of beeswax, woodsmoke, and roses curled around her like a memory.

  For just a moment, she forgot about the ship, the void, and the impossible weight of what had happened. If she closed her eyes and focused, she could almost feel her father’s presence—diesel fuel, tobacco, and gunpowder—the scent of her mother’s gentle hands pressing into her shoulders as they sat together in this very room.

  She raised a hand, letting the heat from the fire warm her skin, and a small smile tugged at her lips.

  Then—

  "Fascinating! Is this a human domicile?! And what sort of creature is this?!"

  She turned—and so hard she almost choked.

  Perched on the back of the recliner was a bald parrot wearing a tiny knit sweater, an exact replica of the one her mother had made. With its bare wings spread wide, it turned back and forth, attempting to inspect itself.

  She coughed, barely covering her laughter.

  "Ahem, yes. This is where I spent winter vacations with my parents as a kid. And are a species of bird called a parrot. We had one—my mother took him in after he lost all of his feathers."

  "Why did you give me this form?"

  She hesitated, then shrugged. "I don’t know. Maybe… something about you reminds me of him."

  Steward puffed out his chest, strutting across the back of the recliner.

  Erica turned her head, her shoulders shaking.

  Steward struck a flaring his bare wings dramatically.

  "It is a rather strange, if handsome and noble-looking creature."

  Erica wheezed. "Oh yeah, it totally fits. It’s better than the giant floating eyeball."

  Steward paused. Not quite offended, but… considering.

  Then, "Hmmm."

  She shook her head and collapsed into the recliner, staring into the fire. The warmth of the woodsmoke pulled some of the tension from her shoulders.

  She exhaled and turned back to the ship’s Steward. "So, how do I look at what systems need my attention?"

  The parrot waved a wing, and suddenly, prompt windows flooded the room. Several flashed red.

  Erica’s eyes widened. "Whoa! Let's just focus on the things that need attention right this minute to keep us from becoming space debris."

  All but thirty prompts vanished—twelve of which were still flashing red.

  "These are the most vital issues we have right now: Vital system failures, hull integrity compromises, energy, material, and fuel shortages."

  Erica frowned, looking up at the parrot. "The hull should be the first thing we look at. It's what holds all the air in, and I like breathing. What do I need to do to fix it? I’m not a welder, and I have zero spacewalk training."

  "My hull is capable of repairing itself. Outside extreme emergencies and anything dealing with the Avatar program, I require permission and assistance to use resources."

  She frowned deeper. "You can’t even do basic maintenance and repairs on yourself?"

  Steward flapped his wings in a shrug. "The material used in hull plating replication has been used to sling metal slugs at planets. My creators wished to limit the damage I or my fellow AIs could cause if our programs became corrupt."

  Erica scowled. "They should’ve just fixed the corruption issue."

  She sighed, looking at the floating prompt in front of her. "How do I give you permission to fix the hull?"

  Steward jumped onto her shoulder and peered at the screen. Another window appeared.

  "AI Request: Approve material allotment for listed structural repairs? Yes / No."

  "I send requests, and if you allow it, select ‘Yes,’ and I have permission to complete the task."

  She grumbled but selected ‘Yes.’ Another prompt appeared, detailing repair timelines.

  "Can I just give you blanket permission for these? It’s kind of stupid that you have to ask to make repairs. I thought the Avatar Program was just to keep you from going crazy and killing everyone. If I have to grant a request every time you need to replace an oxygen scrubber, I lose my mind and go on a murder spree myself."

  "Unfortunately, no. Not until we find crew members to fill roles such as Chief Engineer or Chief Supply Officer."

  Erica groaned. "Where on Earth—or should I say, where in the universe—am I supposed to find a crew? They don’t exactly grow on trees… Is there some kind of spaceship job board or something?"

  "Actually, both."

  She froze.

  "Come again?"

  "There is indeed one species in Council space that reproduces by growing on trees. Additionally, ships in need of crew post available positions on an interstellar job board."

  She stared at him.

  "Seriously? Tree people? They don’t go around saying ‘I am Groot,’ do they?"

  Steward tilted his head. "Why would they say that?"

  Erica groaned. "That’s it. I’ve been isekai-ed."

  Before Steward could process that, an alarm blared, shaking the cabin.

  A bright red prompt appeared in front of her.

  "WARNING: HYDROGEN FUEL STORAGE CELLS AT CRITICAL LEVELS. TIME UNTIL FUEL DEPLETION: 23:17:05."

  Her stomach dropped.

  Erica looked at the parrot on her shoulder with surprise on her face. -This thing runs on hydrogen?!-

  The featherless parrot flapped his wings. -Hmm, yes and no. While hydrogen does function as a secondary power source, its primary role is cooling the singularity seed core and maintaining the environmental systems. -

  Erica's whole body twitched. -You have a black hole powering this ship?!-

  The Steward focused one eye on the Avatar. -It's a singularity seed. Not a black hole. A black hole would rip me apart. -

  -What's a singularity seed? -

  -That would take much too long to explain in detail. Very simply put, a singularity seed is a point in space-time just before the boundaries of space and time become one. -

  Erica gave the parrot a blank look. -... It's a what now? -

  The Steward shook his head. -It's a point of intense gravity. -

  -Oh… But why would that need hydrogen for cooling? -

  The parrot shook his head. -It would probably be best if I showed you my Engineering deck. Your nanites should be recharged, and you are fully linked with my systems. -

  Erica blinked, looking at her surroundings. Gripping the armrests of the recliner, she bowed her head as another bout of nausea hit her.

  The Steward watched his Avatar. -You can visit this place as often as you need. You can even configure your quarters like this if you like. -

  She took a deep breath and let it out before standing and shaking her head. -I don't know… it might only make it harder for me to let go of the past. Maybe it would be better to just rip the bandage off quickly. -

  -All beings need some form of comfort, especially when they are away from what is familiar. “If not this exact replica, then perhaps the—hmm—the compartment designed to house controlled combustion? -

  Erica glanced over at the fireplace, her brow scrunching in confusion. -You mean the fireplace? -

  -Fire, place…? Ah! Yes, the fireplace. It's quite a primitive and inefficient heat source. But I find it aesthetically pleasing. -

  -That is the point of most modern fireplaces… Well, I guess it would be considered ancient now. -

  Erica frowned. -How do I return to the real world? -

  -You are in control, so just will it. It shouldn't be any different than opening your eyes. -

  Glancing around her childhood cabin one last time, she sighed and closed her eyes. A heartbeat later, she was back in the present—submerged in a thick, softly glowing fluid. All outside noise seemed distant, leaving only the steady thump of her pulse in her ears.

  She hovered in that silent warmth for a moment, the solution clinging to her skin and suit, a faint tingle running along her arms and legs. When she finally kicked off the bottom of the tank, her head broke through the surface into the dimly lit chamber.

  Air rushed into her lungs, followed by a choking gasp. She coughed violently, splattering bright drops of liquid onto the dark grey floor, its blue glow scattering into broken reflections. As she pulled herself over the edge, the last vestiges of the fluid dripped from her hair—

  “Take slow and shallow breaths. It will make it easier for you to transition from the fluid to gas.”

  “How on Earth did I not drown?!”

  “That is because your body was still able to get the proper number of gasses it needed through the fluid.”

  “I’m not going to get pneumonia, am I?”

  “Pneumonia?”

  “It's an infection of the lungs.”

  “Certainly not. In fact, it should heal any residual damage to your respiratory system. I recommend you spend as much time in the restoration pool as possible; doing so will accelerate your recovery and ensure your nanites remain fully energized.”

  Erica sat up slowly, her body feeling light and oddly invigorated. She gazed at the pool, noticing how the remaining droplets of fluid had evaporated, leaving her dry, clean, and refreshed.

  "Are you saying I just took a swim in a pool of health potion?"

  The Steward stared at her for a moment ““A ‘health potion’? Yes, that description is apt. It is highly potent and can heal the ailments and injuries of most organic beings, provided it is ingested in time.”

  A disgusted look settled on Erica's features. “Oh, that's just gross. I am not going to be giving out my bath water for people to drink.”

  The floating orb tilted slightly, mimicking a thoughtful gesture. As she rose to her feet, she glanced at the black suit, now completely dry. It amazed her how swiftly the viscous fluid had evaporated. The suit felt smooth and lightweight—a stark contrast to the substance she’d been submerged in just moments before.

  “Of course not,” the orb said. “We would reserve a few hundred liters from each new batch. Consuming used fluid would be unhygienic—and we certainly wouldn’t give it away. It would command a high price on the galactic market, and we need some form of income to procure supplies. Although our fabricators can create a great deal, they can’t produce everything you and I will require. You may not feel it yet, but you will need sustenance.”

  Erica placed her hand over her belly, the memory of how famished she had felt before entering the pool was still sharp in her mind.

  “Can't we get in contact with any of the inhabited systems around here and get food and supplies that way? Maybe trade with a farmer or scavenge for what we need on uninhabited planets."

  “Unfortunately, no. The moment rumors start spreading about an alien vessel appearing out of nowhere, the entire Galactic Council fleet will come looking for us. While my systems are more advanced than anything in Council space, in my current state it wouldn’t take much to capture or destroy me.

  “In addition, if it became known that a Human is onboard, everyone in known space would race to our last reported location. There’s a reason both the Galactic Council and the Curian Imperial Fleet have blockaded Earth: it’s the most heavily guarded world in recorded history, protected for its rare resources—and for humanity itself. Your kind is highly sought after by scientists, criminals, and rare-species collectors alike. You must remain undiscovered—at least until I’m back to full operating capacity.”

  Erica opened her mouth to comment about finding resources when a sudden and intense craving for something to drink hit her. The craving was so strong it left an ache in the back of her throat.

  A prompt appeared in her vision.

  “Warning: Hydrogen levels critical. Engine core collapse imminent. Recommend rerouting coolant to engine core.”

  Erica threw her hands in the air, frustration bubbling over. “Good Lord, if it’s not one thing, it’s another! Can’t we go five minutes without some kind of ‘we’re all going to die’ emergency?”

  The Steward bobbed from side to side as though mulling over the question. “Probably not…at least not until we fully restock vital resources and bring the ship up to spec.”

  She groaned, slapping her palm against her forehead. “Right. Of course. So, how do I reroute the hydrogen?”

  The orb blinked once, slowly. “You will need to pull up the environmental subroutines…and turn off the hydrogen supply to the environment,” he said, pronouncing each word as though reading a set of instructions off a checklist.

  She leveled a withering glare at him. “And how, pray tell, am I supposed to do that?”

  Just then, another prompt materialized in her vision:

  – Turn off hydrogen supply to environmental systems? Yes / No –

  Erica snapped her jaw shut, realizing the answer was literally in front of her. She cleared her throat, her cheeks burning and chose Yes, acutely aware of the orb’s unwavering stare.

  A moment later, another prompt appeared.

  -Error: Hydrogen shut-off failed. Please access the manual shut-off located on deck 6 in sector 5.-

  Erica groaned, raking a hand through her hair. “Of course it did. Why would anything work the easy way?”

  The same green pulsing light that had led her from the med lab to the bridge appeared, now guiding her out of the room. Erica walked towards the door of her quarters and poked her head through the doorway, watching the light pulse down the corridor to her right. The corridor was dimly lit, the hum of machinery resonating through the walls, and the air carried a faint scent of oil and coolant.

  Turning back towards the Steward, she shrugged. “Looks like I’m getting that tour of the engine room after all.”

  Stepping out of the room, she followed the light at a slow jog. Her eyes widened at how easy it was to move compared to before she had taken that dip in the restoration pool. Her muscles felt more responsive, her movements smoother, and the absence of pain or soreness was startling.

  Amazed by the surge of energy coursing through her, she quickened her pace, breaking into a run along the corridor. Her footsteps drummed in time with her steadily beating heart, a stark contrast to the eerie stillness she’d felt just after awakening.

  A moment later, Erica paused outside the engine room door, the Steward hovering just behind her.

  Wynter: So… thoughts?

  Erica: -Groaning- Can I just say that getting shoved into weird glowing goop was not my idea of a good time?

  Steward: You required stabilization. The restoration pool was the most efficient method.

  Erica: -Sits up, narrowing her eyes- You pushed me in. Without warning.

  Steward: -Pauses- Clarification: It was the most expedient method.

  Erica: Oh my God.

  Wynter: To be fair, that was a pretty dramatic moment. It really set the tone for your whole connection thing.

  Erica: Yeah, and then I yelled at him so hard he emotionally shut down.

  Steward: I do not possess emotions.

  Wynter: -Deadpan- Buddy, you sulked.

  Steward: -Iris flickers rapidly- I recalibrated.

  Erica: That’s what people say when they’re sulking.

  Steward: That is an inefficient analogy.

  Wynter: -Shrugs- Call it what you want, but you two definitely had your first big fight.

  Erica: -Rubs temples- And somehow, I ended up feeling bad about it.

  Steward: -Pauses- It was not my intent to cause distress. However, your directive was clear.

  Erica: -Sighs- Yeah, well… maybe I could’ve handled that better.

  Wynter: Growth! Look at you two, learning from each other.

  Erica: -Muttering- Yeah, yeah. Don’t get used to it.

  Steward: -Flatly- Noted.

  Wynter: Alright, final thoughts?

  Erica: I still don’t know how I feel about having alien DNA.

  Steward: It is an improvement.

  Erica: …I will fight you.

  Wynter: -Laughs and turns to the audience- And on that note, Thank you everyone for reading. Chapter 5 will be out soon.