The facility's emergency lights flickered to life as the group spread through the entrance hall. Darkness retreated to corners as fluorescent bulbs hummed overhead, casting everything in a clinical white glow. Jason kept to the back, watching the scavengers fan out with practiced efficiency, checking corners and doorways. Their earlier excitement had given way to the focused caution of experienced looters.
Suddenly, the intercom system crackled to life. A female voice, smooth and theatrically playful, filled the room.
"Well, well, well... what do we have here? Uninvited guests. What will it be? Tea or coffee?"
The entire group froze. Weapons snapped up instantly, barrels sweeping the ceiling and walls for security cameras or speakers. Reese spun in a tight circle, his rifle aimed upward.
"Who the hell are you?" he shouted.
"Try anything stupid," the voice continued, dropping an octave lower, "and it won't be coffee you're tasting—it'll be your own blood."
With mechanical precision, ceiling panels slid open. Automated turrets descended on hydraulic arms, swiveling with quiet clicks until their barrels pointed directly at the group. Jason counted six of them—more than enough to turn everyone into red mist within seconds.
"Now, drop your weapons," the voice commanded. "Clothes too. Everything except your underwear."
A tense silence followed. Reese's jaw clenched as he looked from turret to turret, calculating odds that weren't in his favor.
"Fuck that," one of the men muttered.
In response, one turret fired a short burst that chewed into the floor inches from his feet. The man yelped and jumped back.
"Next time, I won't miss," Nia warned. "Weapons down. Clothes off. Now."
Reese cursed and threw his rifle to the ground. "Do what she says."
One by one, they disarmed. Guns, knives, even improvised weapons clattered to the floor. Then came the humiliation of stripping. Jason joined them, removing his outer clothing to maintain his cover, though he kept a small blade hidden against his ankle.
The men stood awkwardly in boxers and briefs of various states of cleanliness. The women remained in their underwear, arms crossed defensively over their chests. Jason noted Calla's athletic build, Tasha's lean strength, Riley's nervous fidgeting, and Mireille's quiet dignity despite the situation. Jason had caught all their names during the awkward chat outside—technically. But by the time they were standing half-naked in the hallway, only the women's names had survived the mental filter. Calla, Tasha, Riley, Mireille. The guys? Eh. Background noise. He sighed inwardly. Guess even the end of the world couldn't rewire basic male instincts.
"Hey, handsome—gather their clothes and gear, will you? Stack them by the wall," Nia called out playfully.
All nine men looked around in confusion.
"Me?" asked one with a patchy beard.
"You talking to me?" another questioned.
Nia's laughter echoed through the speakers. "Oh, how adorable. All of you think you're the handsome one? News flash: unless you're the blue-eyed brunette by the wall, your moms are the only ones lying to you. Even a prickly hedgehog sees its baby as soft as cotton candy, I suppose."
The men grumbled, faces flushing with embarrassment. Jason bit back a smirk as he moved forward to gather the discarded gear.
"Having fun?" he thought to Nia.
"More than I should be," she replied silently. "Playing with them is like using a supercomputer to run a calculator app."
As Jason stacked the weapons against the wall, Nia issued her next command.
"Males in the front, females in the back. Walk single file. No sudden moves."
The group shuffled into formation, casting nervous glances at the tracking turrets. This positioning effectively separated Jason from the others, giving him space to maneuver. They walked deeper into the facility, past sterile hallways and locked laboratory doors.
"Stop right there," Nia ordered when they reached a large open area that might have once been a staff lounge. "Now, I'm feeling generous today. Let's play a little game, shall we? I'll ask each of you a riddle. Get it right, and... well, we'll see."
Reese's face darkened. "We're not here to play games."
A turret swiveled toward him. "Did I ask for your opinion? No? Then shut it. You're first, tough guy."
Reese's jaw worked silently, but he nodded.
"What comes once in a minute, twice in a moment, but never in a thousand years?"
Reese furrowed his brow, then after a moment, answered: "The letter M."
"Correct!" Nia chirped. "Maybe there's hope for you after all."
She moved on to the next man, a tall, lanky figure with a nervous twitch. "I speak without a mouth and hear without ears. I have no body, but I come alive with wind. What am I?"
The man scratched his head. "Uh... a ghost?"
"Wrong. It's an echo. Next!"
The third man in line straightened up when addressed. "What has cities, but no houses; forests, but no trees; and water, but no fish?"
He answered quickly: "A map."
"Correct!"
The fourth man received his question: "The person who makes it, sells it. The person who buys it never uses it. The person who uses it doesn't know it. What is it?"
"A... surprise?" he guessed.
"Wrong. It's a coffin. You might be seeing one soon."
As Nia continued through the line, Jason noticed the women exchanging glances. Calla's eyes kept darting to the exits, calculating. Tasha remained unnervingly still, her expression unreadable.
"What has to be broken before you can use it?" Nia asked the fifth man.
"Um... a promise?"
"Wrong. An egg."
The sixth received a seemingly simpler question: "What do you call a bear with no teeth?"
"A dead bear?" he ventured.
"Wrong. A gummy bear. Come on, that was an easy one!"
Number seven looked increasingly nervous as Nia addressed him: "Forward, I am heavy; backward, I am not. What am I?"
"A... truck?"
"Wrong. The answer is 'ton.' Spelled backward, it's 'not.' Do try to keep up."
The eighth man received: "What kind of ship has two mates but no captain?"
"A boat...No its submarine?"
"Wrong. A relationship. Apparently not something you'd know much about."
The ninth: "Paul's height is six feet, he's an assistant at a butcher's shop, and wears size 9 shoes. What does he weigh?"
The man thought carefully. "Meat. He weighs meat."
"Correct! Finally, someone with a brain."
The last male: "How many months have 28 days?"
"February," he answered confidently.
"Wrong. Every month has at least 28 days. Basic calendar knowledge, people."
Nia then turned her attention to the women. "Calla, you're up. The more you take, the more you leave behind. What am I?"
Calla's eyes narrowed. "Footsteps."
"Correct! Now for Tasha. I have keys but no locks. I have space but no room. You can enter, but you can't go outside. What am I?"
Tasha considered briefly. "A keyboard."
"Correct!"
Riley shifted nervously as Nia addressed her: "You see a boat filled with people, but there isn't a single person on board. How is that possible?"
"They're... um... dead?" Riley stammered.
"Wrong. They're all married. No single people."
Finally, Mireille received her question: "What disappears the moment you say its name?"
She answered softly: "Silence."
"Correct!"
A moment of tense quiet followed as the group stood in their underwear, waiting. Jason positioned himself near the wall, watching everyone carefully.
Nia sighed dramatically. "Ugh... most of you bombed that harder than a toddler with finger paint. Sadly, I have a low tolerance for stupidity."
Without warning, the turrets opened fire. Deafening bursts of automatic gunfire filled the room. The men didn't even have time to scream—their bodies jerked and fell as bullets tore through them. Blood splattered across the floor in widening pools. Reese's expression barely had time to register shock before his face disappeared in a red mist.
The women screamed, dropping to the floor and covering their heads.
"Stop! Please!" Mireille sobbed.
"We answered correctly!" Calla shouted.
Just as suddenly as it began, the gunfire stopped. The acrid smell of cordite filled the air.
"Relax, ladies," Nia's voice returned, casual as if discussing the weather. "You gave the right answers... or close enough. So for now, you get to live."
Calla raised her head, her face a mask of fury and terror. "But Reese gave the right answer! Why'd you kill him?"
"Oops. He did? Must've missed it. Shame. Collateral damage, I suppose."
The women huddled together, shaking, as Jason stepped back into view. He'd retrieved his clothes and weapons during the chaos, now fully dressed and armed while they remained nearly naked.
Tasha noticed him first. "Why are you still alive? What makes you so special?!"
"Because he's my husband, sweetheart," Nia answered sweetly. "That reason enough?"
All four women stared at Jason, expressions ranging from shock to dawning horror.
"What the fuck...?" Riley muttered.
Jason internally sighed. "Why didn't you kill them too? Don't tell me it's another breeding thing. Or is this part of a plan?"
"Not this time!" Nia responded cheerfully in his mind. "I have a brilliant plan. Let's just lock them in the observation cells for now. Then we can talk properly."
"On your feet," Jason ordered the women, his voice flat and authoritative. "Move, and I'll explain later."
"Explain what?" Calla demanded. "Why you just murdered our people?"
"Your people tried to kill me with that pharmacy trap," Jason replied coldly. "And they would've done worse to others. Now move."
With Nia remotely unlocking doors ahead of them, Jason herded the women through the facility toward the lower levels. They descended a stairwell to Level -2, passing through corridors where piles of lab coats and scrubs lay on the floor. Next to each pile was a small mound of dust—all that remained of the facility's personnel after the Collapse.
"What are you going to do with us?" Riley asked, her voice trembling.
"Are you going to kill us too?" Tasha added, her tone more challenging than frightened.
Jason didn't answer. He was trying to maintain focus, but found himself increasingly distracted. The women walked ahead of him in nothing but their underwear, and despite the circumstances, he couldn't help noticing their bodies.
Calla moved with coiled tension, her body lean and wiry like a sprinter's. The muscles in her shoulders and back shifted beneath fair skin, speaking to years of physical training. Her short chestnut hair framed sharp cheekbones and green eyes that constantly assessed escape routes.
Beside her walked Tasha, her athletic frame carrying a different kind of strength. Her deep brown skin seemed to absorb the harsh fluorescent light rather than reflect it. Gray cotton underwear contrasted against her dark complexion, and her coiled hair was held back by a bandana, revealing calculating gray eyes that missed nothing.
Riley's platinum blonde hair hung in messy strands around her pale face, her movements twitchy and unpredictable. Her icy blue eyes darted around with a vacant, almost dreamy quality that made it impossible to guess what she was thinking.
Mireille moved with quiet dignity despite her state of undress. Her olive skin and soft curves gave her a gentler appearance than the others. Her dark brown hair was tied back in a practical ponytail, and warm brown eyes occasionally glanced back at Jason with what seemed like assessment rather than fear.
Jason felt his body responding, the nanovirus-enhanced libido spiking at the worst possible moment. He adjusted his stance, trying to hide his growing erection.
"Did you really have to strip them?" he complained internally to Nia. "Walking with a damn tent in my pants isn't ideal."
"For your safety!" Nia answered cheekily. "We couldn't risk hidden weapons, right? What if they'd taken you hostage?"
"Sure. Right," Jason rolled his eyes incredulously. "At least it's not hairy man ass."
They finally reached a section of the facility with glass-fronted containment chambers—sterile observation rooms that looked like they'd been pulled straight from a sci-fi movie. Each had a bed, toilet, and sink.
"In there," Jason directed, pointing to separate cells. "One person per room."
"You can't just lock us up!" Calla protested.
"I can and I will," Jason replied. "Just rest. I'll be back shortly."
The women reluctantly entered the cells, and Nia sealed the doors behind them. Once they were secured, Jason moved out of sight down the corridor.
"Okay, genius," he said aloud, knowing Nia could hear him through the facility's systems. "Let's hear that brilliant and probably sexist plan of yours."
Nia's playful laugh echoed through the speakers. "Oh Jason, you know me so well..."