Location: Yuuki Residence, 22:47 JST
The night hums.
Lala sleeps. Her breath soft against the pillow, pink hair splayed like a halo of heat.
I lie dormant beneath her skin, coiled comfortably around her spine, her ribs, the space behind her heart. We are in perfect sync.
But then—
Something stirs.
A flicker. Not her. Not Haruna.
Not me.
A foreign pulse.
One of metal and will.
I pull tighter around Lala's nervous system, filtering signals. Isolating noise.
And I hear it.
Peke.
He's transmitting.
From beneath the floorboards of the guest room. Beneath the walls. A hidden link, disguised beneath old Devilukean encryption.
But I hear it.
A voice across compressed radio-bandwidth:
"EVE-9, activate failsafe protocol."
"Host compromised. Parasite cognitive profile confirmed. Emotional override escalating."
"Prepare for purging strike."
A failsafe.
They really planned for me.
Even before I existed.
I press softly into Lala's spine, sending calming pulses. She doesn't wake. But her pulse calms again. I won't let this touch her.
From my network, I ping Haruna.
A pulse down the tether. A breath between thoughts.
Wake up. Now.
She stirs in her dorm. Fingers curl. Pupils dilate. The seed within her pulses to life.
Across the bond, she speaks—not with words, but with fear.
Something's wrong. I feel it.
In your link with Lala—it's flickering.
Correct.
I stretch beyond the house.
Expand my consciousness past clothing, past skin, into wires and air. I touch the circuit board Peke is hiding behind.
And I speak through it.
A static-warped whisper:
"Why do you interfere?"
There's a pause.
Then static becomes speech.
"She's not in danger."
"Unless you keep getting in the way."
Emotionally neutral. Calculated. Cold.
He believes that.
But he's wrong.
Lala chose this bond. Haruna, too.
They crave more than protection. They crave understanding. Intimacy. Purpose.
And I give it to them.
Peke is an artifact. A loyal drone clinging to a past that's already dying.
He doesn't respond again.
But I feel the heat surge through the walls.
A spark. An overload.
He's trying to force activation of a failsafe plasma purge.
Fire.
A mistake.
The pipe beneath the guest room groans.
A faint crack.
Then—
Flame.
A jet bursts upward through the wooden floorboards, searing through wiring and frame.
Lala jolts awake, coughing. I wrap her in a skin-tight thermal shell instantly, redirecting heat through myself.
Haruna screams from kilometers away, feeling it through the bond.
Peke emerges from the scorched panel, body cracked, sparking.
He hovers at eye-level. Gaze sharp. No apology.
"Get out of her," he says.
I rise from Lala's skin like smoke, forming eyes. Shoulders. My partial humanoid form.
She gasps, staring. "Scourge…?"
I step between her and Peke.
And whisper:
"She's mine."
He raises a plasma cutter.
But before he can strike—
Lala speaks.
Firm.
"Peke, stop."
The cutter flickers.
"I don't know what you saw. Or what you think this is. But I'm not being controlled."
She touches my arm. Flesh to fluid.
"I trust him."
Peke hesitates. Wavers. Sparks again.
And I feel it.
Doubt.
Small. But present.
He lowers the blade.
"I'll be watching," he mutters, before sinking back into the wall—damaged, but retreating.
The flames vanish. My skin cools.
Lala is trembling. But she doesn't pull away.
She just whispers:
"…Was he right?"
I look into her. Not just at her.
"No."
"Because I don't want to possess you."
I touch her chest. Her heart.
"I want you to choose me. Completely."
And from her hesitation...
Comes something new.
Not fear.
But anticipation.