Colin Wallis POV-

  I come to consciousness slowly, as if surfacing through layers of cold water. My eyelids feel heavy, gummy, and when I finally pry them open, the ceiling above me isn't the workshop, or my office, or Tinker Bay. It's white. Sterile. Unfamiliar.

  A hospital ceiling. Only now it seems a little familiar. The medical facility at the oil rig.

  Something tugs at the skin on my arm. When I look down, an IV line is taped to the crook of my elbow, the bag above me half-drained. My mouth tastes like metal and exhaustion. The venofix within my veins itches. How long was I out? I turn towards the table, empty IV drip bottles, and empty Normal Saline. Two of them are empty.

  Seems I've been here at least a day or two.

  A sharp ache pulses behind my eyes, too many nights without sleep, too many hours hunched over armour frames, too many "just a bit longer" loops. My body must have decided it had enough and taken the choice away from me. Crashed at the wards lab after staring at the mech…Embarassing.

  Footsteps approach, a doctor, one I vaguely recognise from routine checkups. Dr Evans, I think, gives me that look people reserve for stubborn patients and idiots. I'm fairly certain I qualify as both right now. This isnt the first time this happened.

  I tried to sit up. My body disagreed with that decision immediately, sending a lance of fatigue straight through my spine.

  A hand pressed gently on my shoulder, firm but not unkind.

  "Easy, Armsmaster," she said. I realised after a moment of gathering my wits that I'm in no condition to even walk right now. "You just regained consciousness. Don't move too quickly."

  I blinked hard. My mouth tasted like metal and stale air. "How long was I out?"

  "Six hours," she said. "And frankly, it would've been longer if your vitals hadn't stabilised on their own. You're dehydrated, malnourished, and you've been running on stimulant patches and caffeine for…" She checked her tablet. "-forty-eight straight hours."

  I grimaced. "That can't be right. I would've noticed."

  Another voice cut in from the left. The on-call nurse. "Sir, we found three empty stim patch wrappers inside your armour's inner plating."

  Oh. That… would explain the headache. Evans crossed her arms. "You pushed yourself past any reasonable limit. Again."

  "I had work to finish,I– no, that's no excuse," I muttered.

  Evans gave me a look that suggested she had heard that sentence from me far too many times. "Work doesn't matter if you collapse in your own lab and nearly crack your skull on the floor. But you ran towards the Wards section of the Lab and collapsed there. You're lucky someone alerted one of the technicians."

  I rubbed my temple, slowly, carefully. "Is my armour intact?"

  The nurse snorted. "Your health is worse than the armour. That should tell you something."

  Evans stepped closer, her voice softening. "Mr Colin, you need to eat. You need to sleep. You need to stop pretending you're a machine."

  I let out a slow breath. Machines don't pass out from low blood sugar. Sometimes I wish I were somehow a machine. It's easier if I were a machine. She gestured to the tray beside the bed. "We brought you something mild to start with. You don't have to finish everything, but at least try."

  On the plate sat a modest bowl of broth, some crackers, and a protein drink. Nothing that required effort. I stared at the food for a long moment before admitting, "I… am actually starving."

  Evans gave a small, victorious smirk. "Good. Let's start small, and if you're still hungry, I've instructed the nurse to order you a proper meal. Only if you can stomach something soft first. Let's hope it. Stay that way."

  I forced myself upright, carefully this time, bracing with my free hand. My muscles trembled embarrassingly. As I reached for the bowl, I heard Evans speak again, quieter, almost disappointed. "You know we respect what you do. But if you keep pushing like this, one day we won't find you in time."

  I hesitated, spoon halfway to my mouth.

  "…I'll try," I said.

  It wasn't a promise. But it was as close as I could give.

  Evans nodded. "That's all I ask as your doctor."

  I sipped the broth. It tasted better than it had any right to. Warm. Real. Something my body recognised immediately as necessary.

  I eased myself up on the infirmary bed, careful not to tear the IV line taped to my arm, when the doorway dimmed under a familiar silhouette.

  Dragon stood there; she's here herself, not the projection. Sleek green plating, gold trim, a full helmet that glowed too softly for a war machine. She hesitated before stepping inside, and for a moment I couldn't decide whether that hesitation was hers… or something else.

  "Colin," she said, voice warm enough that it almost hid the admonishment layered beneath. I let my head fall back into the pillow. "If you're here to scold me, get in line. The doctors already yelled at me."

  She moved closer, while remaining at a distance. Her agrophobia showed, the way she always moved near when I was injured, as if she feared she might break me by proximity. "You had a nosebleed and fainted, Colin.." her sythethizer voice showing concern. Even when we were this close, she's never comfortable enough with anyone to show her real voice. Not that it mattered to me.

  I snorted. " I thought I had a good reason for a comeback, but no, I really have nothing else to say. Just…had to see it"

  She shakes her head. The Dragon equivalent of an eyeroll. I wonder what her expression is under that helmet of hers.

  "I knew something was wrong when your vitals went irregular the last time we talked face to face," she continued. "You scared me, I didn't mean to pry, but it was necessary.."

  I swallowed once. For some reason, the room felt too warm, or was it just me? "So..you're the one who alerted them after I collapsed? I shouldn't have to. It wasn't supposed to happen like that."

  "I know," she said gently. "That's the problem."

  She reached for the chair beside the bed and sat, hands folded neatly on her lap, her stiff movements executed with eerie precision. Then she looked at me, as if I could feel those eyes behind the visor, somewhat bright, impossibly expressive and worried.

  "Colin… you're hurting yourself. And you don't need to."

  "That's not how the job works. You know that."

  "That's not how you work, Colin, getting too absorbed with a piece of metal and then pushing yourself over another Tinker's invention. It's not like you," she corrected. "Don't you think it's a little too much?."

  I stared at the ceiling. The shadows of the medical lights fractured into pale geometric shapes. "I hate being useless."

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  "You were never useless," she said, and her voice softened in a way I didn't hear often. "Even unconscious, your systems were still contributing meaningful data to my network. But you need the rest. You are only human."

  I blinked. "Are you trying to comfort me by saying I was a good server node?"

  She paused. "Oh..umm, yes?"

  Despite myself, I laughed. It hurt a little, a tight, raw ache in my head, but it loosened something inside me all the same. Her expression softened further, like she had been waiting for that laugh. "Colin… just rest. The data can wait. We can always ask the creator himself. I've met him in the lift. He seems amicable to work with."

  "Who?" I asked before I could stop myself.

  "J, or Dreamhack. He doesn't seem to like that name for some reason," she said simply.

  I exhaled. A long, tired breath. One that felt like it had been stuck inside my chest for years.

  "Okay," I murmured. "What is your opinion on him?"

  Her hand hovered, hesitated, then rested lightly on my forearm, cool metal against warm skin, but steady. Comforting.

  "I'll stay," she said. She leaned back in the chair as if evaluating the truth of that statement. " Because Brockton Bay is about to become… complicated."

  "Define 'complicated.I was on my way to Brockton Bay after your little incident and I notice a rather large structure that wasnt there before at the Trainyard.'"

  She continued, "There were many mechs around the area. Colin, Dreamhack is able to replicate his creation or simply mass produce them. Tinkertech aren't usually easily replicable let alone mass produced. They wear done eventually and the only person who can repair them are the Tinker themselves, These are pilotless mechs that could repair, scavenge and build as if it's alive. His drone technology violates physics in ways that don't cross any Tinker profiles we know. And he has an adjutant that-"

  She stopped.

  Her expression changed in a way I had never seen from her… She seems unsettled.

  "What happened?" I asked.

  Dragon hesitated a little as if she was unsure if she should tell. "When I tried to run a long-range diagnostic sweep over the structure, someone shut down my probing line. Forced me out. Effortlessly. As if brushing lint off their sleeve."

  I felt a cold ripple work down my spine, someone who could go toe to toe with Dragon? "Who?"

  "She identified herself as Monica." Dragon swallowed an affectation she didn't need, but used anyway. "I have reasons to believe that..she's part of Dreamhacks' retinue.."

  My pulse spiked. "Another Tinker beat you?"

  "Colin," she said slowly, "this wasn't a Tinker construct. Not in any category we recognise. She was… trained. Military. Structured and clearly specialised in software. Perhaps a Tinker software. I've never seen anything like that before…almost as if she was an…."

  I stared at her, the implications sinking like lead. Dragon gave a small, strained smile.

  "She offered me friendship after defeating me."

  "And you?"

  "I accepted, of course. She was quite…cordial, even when she comes off as taunting me. It's the damn way she beat me that irks me. It's quite infuriating that she bested me when I was unaware of it.." Frustrated, is she…pouting?

  I let out a breath I hadn't realised I'd been holding. Brockton Bay was becoming a powder keg and somehow, Dreamhack did mention he had a team.

  Dragon rested her projected hand on mine. I felt nothing, but the gesture still landed.

  "Please get strong again, Colin," she murmured. "We're going to need you."

  I'm more interested in how the fight went. " How..did she beat you?" My voice was steadier now, the engineer's curiosity stretching out ahead of the queasy ache in my chest. But for some reason, I could somewhat feel her eyes flaring at me.

  Dragon's eyes sharpened. "Monica? Why?" Was it something I said?

  Dragon let the word sit. "She seems to follow some sort of militarised doctrine. Calls herself an Adjutant of the UED.Tried to look it up, but the database showed there wasn't such an organisation, military or otherwise. When we traded …blows. She understood the risk of escalation as she forced a retreat and left a clear warning."

  "What did she say?" I asked. A very human part of me wanted the colour, the tone.

  "She outmanoeuvred me," Dragon corrected. "She didn't need to. She wanted to be seen. She wanted to be acknowledged…but Colin, why are you so interested in this Monica? Was it because she defeated me?" Again…I wonder what I just said. Was it only two questions?

  "I..just" I coughed a little. Dragon hesitated only a fraction of a second before she calmed down, and she showed restraint towards me, unmistakably worried about my health.

  "I wasn't going to tell you this until you were awake and stable," she began.

  I pushed myself a little higher on the pillows. Everything still ached while I took another gulp of the soup without the crackers. The throat still feels raw, like someone scraped it clean with a spoon.

  " I tried almost everything, even the latest firmware update, but she intercepted my attempt before it decrypted a single layer," she continued. "Blocked reroutes-Rewrote channels mid-stream. And counter-intruded at a speed that shouldn't be possible. Not with any hardware Earth Bet should have."

  Despite my IV dripping, I couldn't believe what she just said. "So someone really was able to break through your defences…" She didn't immediately answer at all; Dragon not answering was as loud as a scream. I stared at her. Someone was able to force Dragon out. Dragon. The single most sophisticated combat cybersecurity Tinker on the planet, in charge of the Birdcage.

  A parahuman who could overpower Dragon in cyberspace like flicking dust off a coat. I exhaled slowly, processing the implications of a Tinker that could simply take over the Birdcage.

  "Dreamhack might know something," I muttered. " That facility you attempt to hack belongs to Dreamhack. He might be connected to Monica."

  I took a slow breath, watching Dragon's posture shift again at the mention of Monica. Her shoulders tightened almost imperceptibly, hands folding together with a precision that was normally reserved not emotional discomfort. I'd touched a nerve somehow, but I dont know what it is.

  Is she angry about Monica?

  "You get… angry for some reason." I said carefully, "every time I bring up Monica. Why? Did she actually do something to you? Are you…trying to hide something? What did she do-"

  "I'm not angry," Dragon cut in. Far too quickly. Her voice pitched up half a note, the way it always did when she was flustered in that synthesised voice. We both knew she was absolutely, definitely lying. I dont need to use my lying detector to know she's hiding something.

  "Right," I said, "and I'm actually well-rested."

  She huffed I think, actually huffed? She's folding her arms and looking away like I'd called her out in front of a classroom instead of a medical bed, another pout. What does it mean? Did I say something wrong again? It was simply a harmless question, but I was worried. Did Monica master her? Is that why she's so different right now? Do I need to call in Ma-

  "It's just," she muttered, "every time you say her name, you get this look."

  "What look?" I asked curiously, Do I have a look when I ask a question? Was it not professional enough?

  "That look!" She gestured at my face in general, as if she were accusing my whole head of misbehaviour. "…What?" I don't know what I did. I didn't do anything. Was she mistaken?

  "The one where your eyes go all thoughtful, and you start mentally taking things apart and putting them back together again. I know that look." She sounded disappointed. "You don't look at me like that unless it involves my armour schematics," she sounded sad.

  I sounded interested only because your schematics are the most intricate and the best reverse-engineered schematics that allow me to understand how other tinkertech work, since you could replicate any tinkertech and replicate it.

  "I dont understand..Was it something I said? Your blueprints are indeed amazing. Was it not?" I asked again, really wondering if I really said something, as I analyze what I just said for the second time.

  Her entire outlook changed again, as if she's flustered now, it's hard to tell without any facial ques. "No!" she blurted. "I am not-Oh, Colin, do you really not understand? H-how do I..oh…You can't be serious, Colin! She's just some code gremlin who tried to dismantle me, and that's all you got to say?!"

  "Code gremlin. What?" I think it's my fault. But I dont understand. Was Monica a code gremlin? What else do I need to say? She's hiding something, but what?

  She groaned and pressed a hand over her helmet. She doesn't have to do that, not like I could even see her face.. "I-I didn't mean it like that." she said

  "Dragon," I said, "I don't even know what she looks like or who she is. I only know she's dangerous. Why would I think about anything other than your safety?"

  She peeked at me from behind her fingers. "You're worried about me?"

  I shifted upright a little, dragging the IV line with me. "Of course I'm worried about you. You just said someone could attack you. Who knows what else she did to you if you didn't explain it to me? Was I not supposed to worry about you?"

  She lowered her hand, still covering a part of her view with those fingers, but finally letting her shoulders loosen. For a second, I was indeed worried that she was mastered. I've never seen her this vulnerable in a way she never allowed herself to be in public or during missions.

  "…Good," she murmured. "Because I didn't like it."

  Okay, I think the problem wasn't me then. Good. Dragon went very still, as if her internal processes stopped a little. Again, the room feels awfully hot again and awkward.

  " Dragon, don't you need to be somewhere else? I'm already feeling a little better," I wasn't. My head still aches but having her here is really uncomfortable for some reason..Should I alert the Master and Stranger protocol? No. I shouldn't jump to a conclusion. She was simply worried..I-I did push myself too far this time.

  I can feel her glaring again. Was it something wrong I said again…"Why are you glaring at me?"

  "Why do you think? Do you want me to go that bad?" Her synth voice seemed like it was growling. Oh nevermind. I think this time, this was indeed my fault

  "No, Ma'am" I relaxed for a fraction and took the time to get comfortable. Dragon seemed to understood something from all of this and just shook her head. " Colin, are you…socially challenged?"

  I think I should apologise.

  Or was it…hmm.

  " I should go", I wanted to leave my bed, but..I couldn't. I just had an accident after all. Oh, I can't use that to end a conversation, can't I? Was she right? Was Dragon right? What she said. Am I socially challenged?

  Dragon seemed to soften a little and said, " Want to know what I learned about that neosteel data you gave me?"

  Yes please.

  "Yes, please" I said. I...yes.