"Master," ARIA's voice sliced through the downtown LA traffic symphony like a laser through butter, after the Rivera briefing, "I am done with what you requested yesterday; I've compiled our technological assessment across all eighteen categories. Fair warning: your ego might need industrial-strength bandages after this reality check."
Peter grinned despite himself, weaving through traffic like he was playing some twisted video game. Even when delivering potentially crushing news, ARIA maintained that perfect balance of respect and sass that made her indispensable.
"Hit me with it," he said. "How godlike is my knowledge base actually?"
