The quarters emptied as Scarlet and Lyra departed to handle their own equipment maintenance, leaving Arthur alone with Nyx. The door sealed with a soft hiss, and the ambient lighting dimmed to evening protocols.
Nyx turned to Arthur, her golden eyes reflecting the low light. Her upgraded frame moved with a fluidity that spoke to Syuen's engineering expertise, even if the motivations behind it were purely mercenary.
"So," Nyx said, her voice carrying that familiar edge of challenge. "Want to properly test these aesthetic optimizations?"
Arthur leaned against his desk, arms crossed, his prosthetic hands catching the light. "I thought the simulation room was for testing."
"I'm talking about a different kind of test," Nyx said, closing the distance between them. Her hands moved to the fastenings of her tactical suit. "Syuen said these were for psychological impact. I want to see if she was right."
The suit peeled away, revealing the bronze-toned synthetic skin beneath. The upgrades were immediately obvious—her proportions had been enhanced with the same precision that had improved her combat specifications. Syuen's aesthetic optimization had been thorough.
Nyx dropped to her knees in front of Arthur, her hands moving to his belt. "You've been with me before the upgrades. Now you get to experience the enhanced version."
Arthur's breath caught as she freed him from his pants, her upgraded hands precise and confident. The synthetic skin felt warm—temperature regulation designed to mimic human touch. She positioned herself, pressing her enhanced breasts around him with deliberate care.
The sensation was immediate and intense. Syuen's modifications had included tactile sensitivity enhancements, allowing Nyx to respond to pressure and heat with human-like awareness. She moved with practiced rhythm, her golden eyes locked on Arthur's face, watching his reactions.
"Definitely an upgrade," Arthur managed, his prosthetic hands gripping the desk edge.
Nyx grinned, increasing her pace. "Forty percent improvement in combat efficiency, twenty-five percent faster reaction time, and apparently very effective psychological impact."
"Can confirm," Arthur said through gritted teeth.
She varied her rhythm, alternating pressure and speed with the precision of her enhanced neural processing. The intimacy of the act combined with her obvious pride in her new capabilities created a charged atmosphere that had nothing to do with combat readiness and everything to do with connection.
When Arthur finished, Nyx maintained eye contact, her expression satisfied and possessive. She cleaned herself with efficient grace, then stood and kissed him deeply.
"Thank you," she said quietly. "For treating me like I'm still me. Even with all the modifications."
"You are still you," Arthur assured her. "Better specifications don't change who you are."
Nyx pressed against him, her upgraded frame solid and reassuring. "Good. Because I plan to use these enhancements to keep you safe. And to thoroughly enjoy the fringe benefits."
***
Two hours later, the Monarks assembled in Bay Twenty-Three. Scarlet had her crimson hair tied back in a tactical braid, her expression businesslike. Lyra carried her datapad, already calculating optimal engagement scenarios. Nyx stood with obvious confidence, her upgraded frame drawing attention even in full combat gear.
"Simulation room," Arthur announced. "We need to assess Nyx's new capabilities and adjust our tactics accordingly."
"Finally," Nyx said. "I want to see what I can actually do now."
They moved through the Ark's corridors to the training level, passing other squads preparing for deployment. Arthur noticed the stares—Nyx's upgraded frame was obviously different from standard mass-produced specifications, and word of the Monarks' successes had spread.
The armory adjacent to the simulation room was staffed by the same bored supply officer who'd equipped them on their first mission. His expression shifted to something approaching respect when he saw Arthur's commander insignia and the Monarks designation.
"Commander Cousland," the officer said. "Standard loadouts?"
"For Scarlet and Lyra, yes," Arthur confirmed. "Nyx has new specifications. Check the updated manifest from Missilis Industries."
The officer's eyebrows rose as he pulled up the data. "These specs are... this is custom-model grade. For a mass-produced unit?"
"CEO Syuen authorized full reconstruction," Nyx said flatly. "Check the authorization codes if you doubt it."
The officer did, his expression shifting to something between awe and envy. "You're cleared for upgraded equipment. One moment."
He disappeared into the secured storage area, returning five minutes later with a weapon case that bore the Missilis Industries seal. He opened it reverently, revealing a rocket launcher that made Nyx's previous weapon look like a training tool.
The launcher was sleek black metal with red accents, the barrel reinforced with what appeared to be advanced composite materials. The grip was ergonomically optimized, and the targeting system integrated seamlessly with Nikke neural interfaces.
"The Screamin' Eagle," the officer said. "Modified Missilis heavy weapon platform. Improved accuracy, faster reload time, enhanced explosive yield, and reduced recoil through advanced stabilization systems. This thing can punch through master-class armor."
Nyx lifted it with reverent care, her upgraded strength making the massive weapon seem weightless. The neural interface connected automatically, feeding targeting data directly to her visual processors.
"It's beautiful," Nyx said quietly.
Scarlet and Lyra exchanged glances. The disparity between Nyx's upgraded equipment and their standard loadouts was impossible to ignore.
"Load up," Arthur ordered, keeping his tone neutral. "Let's see what it can do."
The simulation room was a vast chamber capable of generating holographic Rapture threats with tactical AI. Arthur programmed a challenging scenario—mixed Rapture types, master-class leadership, difficult terrain.
"Rules are simple," he said as the squad took positions. "Eliminate all hostiles. Standard tactical protocols. I want to see how Nyx's upgrades affect our coordination."
The simulation activated. Holographic Raptures materialized—ant-types swarming from cover, soldier-class units advancing with coordinated fire, and a master-class Woodpecker directing their movements from elevated terrain.
Lyra took her overwatch position, targeting systems analyzing threats. Scarlet moved to flanking position, her SMG ready. Nyx advanced to forward position, the Screamin' Eagle tracking targets with fluid precision.
The difference was immediate and dramatic.
Nyx's reaction time had been good before. Now it was exceptional. She identified threats, calculated trajectories, and fired with machine precision. The Screamin' Eagle's improved specifications meant each rocket hit with devastating accuracy. Ant-types evaporated under direct hits. Soldier-class Raptures were torn apart by proximity detonations.
Her enhanced durability showed when she absorbed incoming fire that would have staggered her previous frame. The upgraded plating shrugged off impacts, allowing her to hold forward positions that would have required tactical retreat before.
"Target the master-class," Arthur ordered.
Nyx pivoted, her enhanced neural processing calculating the shot in milliseconds. The Screamin' Eagle's advanced targeting system compensated for distance, wind simulation, and the Woodpecker's evasive movements. She fired.
The rocket streaked across the simulation space with impossible accuracy, detonating directly against the master-class core. The Woodpecker's holographic form shattered, its leadership node destroyed.
Without coordination, the remaining Raptures fell quickly to concentrated fire from Scarlet and Lyra.
Simulation complete. Total time: four minutes, thirty-seven seconds.
"Previous best time for this scenario was eight minutes, twelve seconds," Lyra reported quietly.
Arthur studied the combat analysis data. Nyx's contribution to overall squad effectiveness had increased by sixty-three percent. Her upgraded specifications had transformed her from effective heavy weapons specialist to dominant battlefield force.
"Again," Arthur said. "Harder scenario."
They ran three more simulations, each progressively more difficult. Nyx's performance remained exceptional. Her upgraded frame allowed tactics that would have been suicidal before—holding chokepoints alone, absorbing fire to cover squad movements, engaging multiple targets simultaneously.
By the fourth simulation, the tension in the squad was obvious. Scarlet's movements had become aggressive, almost reckless. Lyra's positioning was overly cautious, compensating for perceived inadequacy.
Arthur called halt after the fourth run.
"Bay Twenty-Three," he ordered. "Debrief."
The walk back was silent. In the bay's privacy, Arthur faced his squad.
"Say it," he ordered.
Scarlet spoke first, her voice tight. "She's operating at a completely different level now. Custom-model specifications. We're back to being standard mass-produced units while Nyx is showcase grade."
"I'm lagging," Lyra admitted quietly. "My targeting calculations are slower. My frame is less durable. In combat effectiveness, I'm now the weak link."
"You're both still effective soldiers," Nyx said, but her tone lacked conviction.
"We're effective," Scarlet corrected. "You're exceptional. There's a difference."
Arthur let the silence stretch, then spoke carefully. "This is what the Ark's system creates. Inequality. Custom models get upgrades, recognition, resources. Mass-produced units get minimum maintenance and eventual decommission. Nyx got lucky—Syuen needed a marketing tool, and we were convenient."
"So what do we do?" Lyra asked.
"We adapt," Arthur said. "We use Nyx's upgraded capabilities to increase overall squad effectiveness. And we keep proving that all Nikkes—mass-produced or custom—deserve recognition and resources." He met each of their gazes. "You're my squad. All of you. Nyx's upgrades don't change that."
"But they change the tactical reality," Scarlet said.
"Yes," Arthur agreed. "And we'll adjust. Together."
***
In Tetra Industries headquarters, CEO Mustang reclined in his executive chair, his muscular frame relaxed in a black and gold bodysuit that left little to imagination. His office was decorated with entertainment posters, award trophies, and promotional materials—a sharp contrast to Syuen's clinical efficiency or Harper's military precision.
The door opened, admitting two Nikkes who approached with obvious nervousness.
Flower—the redheaded iDoll with a rocket launcher and fragile confidence—stood beside Ocean, the calm blonde whose professional demeanor masked deep concern. Both wore standard Tetra uniforms, their mass-produced specifications obvious.
"Flower! Ocean!" Mustang exclaimed, gesturing expansively. "My favorite iDolls! What brings you to my humble office? Wait, let me guess—you want tickets to the new concert series? Done! Entertainment!"
"Actually, sir," Ocean said carefully, "we're here about a transfer request."
Mustang's playful expression sharpened with sudden intelligence. "Transfer? You want to leave Tetra? I'm wounded! Devastated! My heart breaks!"
"Not leave Tetra," Flower said quickly. "We want to be assigned to Commander Cousland's permanent squad. The Monarks."
Mustang sat up, his casual facade dropping to reveal the calculating businessman beneath. "Arthur Cousland. The Outer Rim commander who treats Nikkes like people. The man who killed a Tyrant-class Rapture and recovered Shepard's body." He studied them intently. "You served under him temporarily. Squad Seven. The mission where you recovered the Harmony Cube."
"Yes, sir," Ocean confirmed. "Commander Cousland treated us with respect. Valued our input. Trusted our capabilities. We performed better under his command than we ever have before."
"And now you want to join his permanent squad," Mustang mused. "Interesting. Very interesting. Entertainment!"
He stood, pacing with sudden energy. "Here's the situation, ladies. Missilis just upgraded Nyx to custom-model specifications to capitalize on the Monarks' popularity. Syuen's making marketing moves. Cerberus has Shepard. Elysion has Scarlet and Lyra." He spun to face them. "And Tetra has... what? Two iDolls who once worked with the famous Commander Cousland?"
Flower's expression fell. "We understand if it's not possible—"
"Not possible?" Mustang laughed. "It's brilliant! Perfect! Commander Cousland is the hottest story in the Ark right now. Every corporation wants representation in his squad. If I can get two Tetra Nikkes permanently assigned to the Monarks, our brand visibility skyrockets!" He pointed at them. "You two just became very valuable assets. Entertainment!"
Ocean's professional calm cracked slightly. "You'll approve the transfer?"
"Better," Mustang said. "I'll authorize upgrades. Not full reconstruction like Nyx—Syuen's showing off—but significant improvements. Enhanced specifications, better equipment, training protocols." His grin was sharp. "When you join the Monarks, you'll represent Tetra Industries at our best. And in return, you'll make sure everyone knows Tetra supports Commander Cousland's methods."
"We can do that," Flower said, hope brightening her features.
"Good! Because this is bigger than just squad assignments." Mustang's expression turned serious. "Commander Cousland is changing how the Ark views Nikkes. That threatens some people and inspires others. Tetra chooses inspiration. We're entertainment, yes, but we're also survivors. And I take care of my Nikkes."
He returned to his desk, pulling up authorization forms. "I'll coordinate with Deputy Chief Andersen. The transfer will take time—paperwork, training, upgrades. But it'll happen." He looked up at them. "One question. Are you sure? The Monarks take the most dangerous missions. Commander Cousland values you, but he'll also put you in situations where you might not come back."
"We're sure," Ocean said firmly.
"Then welcome to the entertainment revolution," Mustang declared. "Now go get measured for upgrades. Entertainment!"