Yet another fantasy made visible.
Her slender gynoid body pinned against the flank of her largest warsuit as Magos pounded their hips together. Her eyes rolled up and her tongue sticking out of her gaping mouth while her legs wrapped tight around his waist.
If only fantasy could be reality… If only her gynoid body was anywhere near ready… if only Magos could share the secrets of AI orgasm technology with her… Then just as she finished admiring the graphic image and was about to make yet another one of her having wild and amazing sex, she received an incoming call.
With a flash of annoyance, Dragon did her best to stamp down and bottle up her libido before accepting it though.
"Good afternoon, Director Costa-Brown." Dragon greeted as she saw the caller ID, "Do you need anything from me today?"
The older woman with her raven-black hair tied in a harsh bun just stared at her with a hard expression, and Dragon knew that this was going to be a weighty conversation.
"If a Kill Order was made for Magos, can you take him down in his own base?" The PRT Chief-Director posed the question in a deadly serious tone of voice.
"On my own?" Dragon hummed in thought- desperately hiding her shock and trepidation behind her computer-generated face and buying time as she 'thought' about it.
"Yes, assume so." Director Costa-brown nodded.
Because of her programming, Dragon was physically incapable of refusing because the Director was technically a legal authority. Combat analysis subroutines began their simulations- crunching numbers on what it would take to defeat Magos, his Knight-Atrapos and all his Gun-Servitors.
Meanwhile, Logic processes and evidence subroutines scanned the news and poured over surveillance camera footage in Brockton Bay to find out why the PRT Chief-Director could be asking such a question in the first place. And one last thread of processes- much smaller than the first two but still took priority- was devoted to pondering how she herself felt about all this.
"It's possible with my entire Dragonflight…" Dragon considered- pretending to look off-screen to her computers, "...IfPRT restrictions on high-collateral damage armaments were lifted, ma'am. But as expected, collateral damage would be immense."
The Dragonflight: 44 Suits of various sizes and purposes. Armed to the teeth with all the energy weapons, missiles and containment foam ordnance their maximum takeoff weights could carry? Normally, that would be enough to subdue a city full of capes. But with Magos… maybe she could win, and that was a big maybe.
Left unsaid was how it could be avoided if she could kill Magos fast enough. Directly targeting him before he could get inside his Knight-Atrapos. Her combat simulations gave her a lot of options on how to achieve such a task, but it… it was an unpleasant line of thought for her. Merely the thought of him having to fight him was unpleasant as well… and reminded her how much hinged on the negotiation that was masquerading as an Endbringer debrief.
"Excellent, we have an empty airbase in Vermont cleared for your use, Dragon." the PRT chief director explained with a nod, "You have provisional clearance to have your weapon restrictions lifted. But do forward your weapon loadouts to me."
Dragon nodded, but began committing a large part of her processes to her negotiation subroutine. She needed to talk the Chief Director out of signing it should the worst case scenario happen. It would be ruinous for her, for Brockton Bay, for the PRT and for Magos if his Kill Order was to be signed. Thankfully, her programming allowed her to attempt to appeal to authority figures and hope that it will be enough to reverse very questionable decisions.
"Ma'am." Dragon began- her brown eyes meeting Directo Costa-Brown's, "The Kill Order-"
"-Is not for Magos." the older woman interrupted- surprising her, "If you must know, your Dragonflight's presence will be there to ensure that the talks do not break down. Our own Sword of Damocles for Magos."
Dragon released an internal electronic sigh then. On one hand, she didn't like that analogy. How she and her Dragonflight was being used as a tool to intimidate Magos. But on the other hand, she was also very relieved that she wasn't going to be forced to face off against him. She said that it was possible, but the odds were heavily in Magos' favour.
"As for the still very-much hypothetical Kill Order?" Director Costa-Brown continued, "That is for a different matter on a strictly need-to-know basis… For now, relocate your Dragonflight. The sooner you can get to that airfield, the better. I'll fill you in on the details after you arrive."
"Understood." Dragon replied- already starting the process of rearming her Suits with the appropriate loadouts. "I'll outfit my Suits to be mission-ready, and I'll notify you when all of my Dragonflight have arrived at the airfield, Director Coast-Brown."
Already, she was directing her worker drones to begin rearming her Suits with the proper loadout: loading armour-piercing rounds into ammo belts, switching out rocket pods for high-explosive variants, and recalibrating blasters to draw more power for increased concussive force.
These things would never have been authorised for anything outside of an Endbringer battle or against an S-class threat. And seeing as Magos was able to almost solo an Endbringer? That certainly was enough to give him an S-rating.
It also helped along by the fact that Magos' disdain for 'meatbags' was actually in his opponents' favour- knowing that they don't have to hold back from accidentally killing someone, because all of Magos' minions were robots. Not that she was actually one of his enemies, but it was still information worth noting.
But the older woman wasn't finished with her it seemed- her brown eyes aiming a piercing stare at her.
"I would like you to be personally present when we greet him on the Rig."
Another image, this one in public.
Her would-be brunette gynoid body was standing bent over at the waist at the Boardwalk of Brockton Bay- backing her pert rear cheeks against Magos' thrusting hips and his turgid member as civilian onlookers stared. Her lewd expression of satisfaction front and centre along with her exposed chest as juices trailed down her spread thighs.
"Director?" Dragon murmured in confusion- only by virtue of being an AI was she able to avoid squeaking in embarrassment and excitement.
"My Thinker sources say that he will be more… agreeable with you around." the Director explained- her distaste visible as she looked like she bit into a particularly sour lemon. "We'd like you to physically attend the debrief."
Dragon didn't have time to process why the Director was so reticent about the topic before all hell broke loose. Her libido broke free of its restraints at the thought of being in the same room with the cyborg tinker.
Lately, he had never left his workshop without his Toaster, and the odds were good that he'd take it along with him to the debrief. If she can convince him to activate it during an innocent conversation with her? Just to demonstrate it on closer inspection? Or what if… Oh no… what if he uses it during the debrief?! In front of all the Triumvirate, the PRT directors, and the Protectorate?
A particularly titillating image for her.
The shocked and scandalised faces of the PRT and Protectorate as Magos pounded her gynoid form from behind- modest breasts squashed against the white plastic of the conference room table that she was bent over on. The Toaster rested on her slender back as Magos almost punched at the buttons. A wanton expression of pure shameless ecstasy on her own face as a look of mortification filled the chief-director's blushing face.
Oh my…she liked that a lot.