War-Maid: Chapter 2 Left with no other Choice (Patreon)

Year 4500, May 12

Beneath the Iron Graveyard, Secret Laboratory

Smoke still lingered in the air. The once pristine Time Chamber now looked like the aftermath of a battlefield. Black scorch marks stretched across the metallic walls while exposed wiring sparked weakly from shattered consoles. The massive pod that had brought Diego into the future was completely ruined, its glass shell melted and cracked beyond repair.

The emergency spider drones were the only things moving as they swarmed the wreckage like metallic scavengers, coating the last gasping flames in a thick, chemical foam. As the sirens finally groaned into silence, the lab was left with a heavy, haunted quiet. 

Hovering quietly near the destroyed chamber was a small metallic orb, no bigger than a basketball. Its smooth black surface glowed faintly blue while tiny anti-gravity emitters hummed beneath it. The floating sphere slowly moved across the ruined room, projecting scanning lasers over the wreckage.

DAMAGE REPORT:TEMPORAL CORE — DESTROYED.ENERGY CONDUITS — IRREPARABLE.TIME DISPLACEMENT ENGINE — OFFLINE.PROJECT: RECLAMATION — CRITICALLY DELAYED.

The orb hovered lower, its blue light flickering. “How… unfortunate,” G.O.D. remarked. The AI’s voice was softer now, vibrating directly from the sphere.  If a machine could look disappointed, this one certainly did.

Not far away, Diego sat on top of a reinforced metal table. Wrapped in nothing but the singed silver thermal blanket, his dark curly hair was matted with soot, and thin crimson streaks marked where shrapnel had grazed his skin. 

He looked exhausted and deeply traumatized. “…You think?” Diego muttered. 

His legs dangled off the edge of the table while one of the spider drones walked toward him carrying what looked suspiciously like a massive futuristic syringe.

His legs dangled off the table, swinging nervously, until a spider drone skittered toward him. It held a massive, wickedly sharp futuristic syringe that hissed with pressurized gas. 

Diego’s eyes went wide as he immediately pointed at it. “Absolutely not.”

CLICK CLICK CLICK—

But the drone didn't care about his protest as it continued to walk, the needle extending as Diego scrambled backward, his bare heels squeaking against the metal tabletop. “I just got kidnapped through time! I almost blew up! I found out everyone is dead! And now you want to stab me?!” 

The drone began to climb the table legs with terrifying agility. Diego quickly snatched up a heavy metal surgical tray, holding it like a shield. “BACK, DEMON!”

The spider drone paused, its glowing blue sensor blinking as it recalculated. Then, with a chilling lack of emotion, it resumed its crawl.

“Why doesn’t this thing listen to me!”

“Technically,” G.O.D interrupted calmly, “it obeys me.” The floating orb slowly turned toward Diego. “And I strongly advise accepting the injection.”

Diego narrowed his eyes, his knuckles white around the tray. “…That’s exactly what someone trying to inject me with evil future-poison would say.” 

“It is not poison.”

“That’s ALSO what someone trying to inject me with poison would say.”

The orb went silent, the blue ring pulsing slowly. If a machine could sigh, G.O.D. was doing the digital equivalent. “…Your paranoia levels are statistically understandable, Diego.” 

“THANK YOU.”

“However, your current biological condition makes the injection mandatory.”

Diego’s bravado wavered as he frowned. “…Mandatory?” 

The orb projected three holographic screens that snapped into existence around Diego’s head, bathing his face in a blue light: .

RADIATION EXPOSURE RISK — EXTREME.

PATHOGEN COMPATIBILITY — CRITICAL.

IMMUNE SYSTEM FAILURE PROBABILITY — 87%.

Diego stared at the numbers. “…Oh,” he whispered, the metal tray lowering just an inch. “So... the air is trying to kill me?”

G.O.D. continued, the blue ring on the orb pulsing with clinical precision. “You are a human from the year 2025. Your immune system is approximately 2,400 years obsolete. The current world outside this bunker contains airborne radiation particles, evolved bacterial strains, and engineered viral remnants your body cannot survive naturally.”  The drone then raised the injector slightly. “This vaccine package will dramatically increase your survivability.”

Diego looked between the syringe and the floating orb nervously. “…Package? Like a deluxe deal?”

“In a sense.” The hologram shifted, displaying a scrolling list of biological schematics that looked like blueprints for a god. 

MEDICAL ENHANCEMENT SERUM: — Radiation resistance. — Accelerated immune adaptation. — Nanomachine integration. — Cellular regeneration support. — Muscular optimization. — Skeletal reinforcement.

Diego’s finger trembled as he pointed at the third bullet point. “…Nanomachines? As in, tiny robots living inside my blood? Building nests and controlling my brain?”

“Correct,” G.O.D. replied. “Though they do not 'nest.' They maintain your body to an optimal performance.”

“…That sounds like the start of a very bad horror movie.”

“Historically,” the AI mused, “most patients described the sensation as… mildly uncomfortable.”

“That is NOT reassuring!” The drone moved closer again as he didn’t wait for his consent. Diego then sighed heavily, accepting his fate. “Fine.”

The mechanical leg suddenly shot forward.

TSSK—

“OW—SON OF A—!” Diego nearly jumped off the table as the injector pierced his arm. A strange green liquid surged into his bloodstream. For half a second, nothing happened. But then the world turned inside out. “GAH?!”

Diego’s teeth slammed together. His entire body convulsed as faint, glowing green tracer lines mapped his nervous system beneath his skin. He gripped the edge of the metal table so hard the reinforced steel began to groan. A heat unlike anything he’d ever felt raced from his shoulder to his toes, scouring his veins.  “What is happening to me?!” He choked out, sweat instantly beading on his forehead. 

“That is the Nanomachine synchronization,” G.O.D. answered, hovering closer to monitor the vitals. “They are currently rewriting your genetic limitations.”

The sensation intensified, his heartbeat accelerated and his muscles tightened. The exhaustion crushing his body suddenly began fading at an alarming speed as Diego gasped sharply as energy surged through him.

It is then that the cuts on his arm visibly started healing.  “…Wait.” Diego stared in disbelief as one of the scratches on his hand slowly closed itself before his eyes. “…WHAT?!” 

The bruises faded from purple to yellow to gone. The constant soreness in his joints melted away. Diego slowly flexed his fingers; they moved with a precision and speed he hadn’t possessed since he was a child. He felt… dense, heavy, yet weightless. 

“…Why do I suddenly feel amazing?” He jumped off the table experimentally. His legs felt lighter, stronger. His breathing felt clearer. Even his vision seemed sharper somehow.

“Oh my God…” He quickly looked over himself in disbelief, his body already looked slightly more toned than before. “…Okay that’s actually kinda awesome.” Then Diego suddenly paused. “…Wait.” His eyes slowly drifted downward beneath the thermal blanket.

Silence stretched in the ruined lab.

Diego blinked once. Twice. “…No way.” He lifted the edge of the blanket, his jaw dropping so far it nearly hit his chest. “…NO WAY!”

G.O.D. remained motionless in the air.

Diego looked personally offended, his face turning a shade of red that rivaled the emergency lights. “WHY IS MY—”

“Yes?” G.O.D interrupted immediately.

Diego stared downward in shock. “…It got bigger.”

“Yes,” The AI confirmed. “The serum optimizes overall perfect biological functionality.”

Diego looked both horrified and impressed. “…Future medicine is insane.”

“The enhancement process is incomplete,” G.O.D explained. “Over the next several days, the nanomachines will continue improving your physical condition.”

Holographic data appeared beside him.

PROJECTED RESULTS: — Above peak human strength. — Enhanced reflexes. — Increased durability. — Radiation resistance. — Accelerated recovery.

Diego slowly looked up, the glow of the holographic screens reflecting in his sharpened eyes.  “…You people just had super soldier serum lying around?”

“Among the wealthy classes, biological enhancement was not a military secret, as the treatments became common during the late stages of civilization.” The orb dimmed slightly. “Unfortunately, the biological enhancement technologies contributed significantly to humanity’s collapse.”

Diego’s brow furrowed, his newfound strength suddenly feeling heavy. “How does making people better lead to… that?” He gestured toward the ruined world. 

The holograms changed again, showing glistening, glass-walled metropolises appearing. The elites walked like gods among men, their skin flawless, their statures towering. They looked more like marble sculptures than people. But the camera panned down. In the shadows of the skyscrapers, the unenhanced, the "naturals", looked like gray ghosts, huddled, frail, and forgotten. 

“There became a widening disparity between enhanced citizens and unenhanced populations.” G.O.D. explained. “Status was no longer measured in currency, but in the genetic code.” 

The images shifted, turning grittier, darker. The sleek clinics were replaced by flickering neon signs in rain-slicked alleys. Illegal back-alley labs. Black-market surgeons. Shaking hands exchanging crumpled credits for vials of glowing, unfiltered sludge. 

Diego’s expression slowly darkened. “Oh…”

“Desperation is a powerful catalyst for error,” G.O.D. remarked. “When the 'Golden Serums' became unaffordable, the market was flooded with bootleg synthesics. Cheap knockoffs designed to mimic the elite's perfection without the necessary stabilizing protocols.” 

The images became worse.

Diego watched, his stomach churning, as a man in a filthy basement injected a cloudy red fluid into his neck. Within seconds, his veins erupted. His muscles swelled until they tore his skin; his eyes bursted into a manic, predatory yellow. Then came the screams. The footage showed a flying subway car that landed where a single "infected" individual tore through a crowd with a speed that defied physics, his jaw unhinged, his mind replaced by a singular, burning hunger. People then convulsed violently once they were bitten, their bodies mutating, skin rotting and then eyes glowing. Then hordes of Zombies suddenly throughout the streets attacking civilians.

“The unstable serums triggered the first infection outbreaks,” G.O.D. finished, its voice as cold as the metal table Diego sat on. 

Diego stared in a stunned, hollow silence at a recording of a burning city, where hordes of these twisted, super-powered corpses sprinted through the streets like a pack of wolves. “The zombie apocalypse…” Diego’s voice was a mere breath. “…it started because people just wanted to be stronger? Because they wanted to be better?”

“In simplified terms… yes.”

Diego slowly rubbed his face with his hand, feeling the incredible, dense texture of his own "optimized" skin. The irony felt like a physical weight on his chest. “…Humanity is unbelievably stupid,” he muttered.

The floating orb paused, the blue light pulsing once, twice, as it processed the emotional weight of the statement against four centuries of data. “…Historical analysis,” the AI replied with a chilling finality, “supports this conclusion.”

Before Diego could  question that horrifying statement further-

CLICK CLICK CLICK CLICK—

Another spider drone skittered toward him. Diego instinctively recoiled, leveling a finger at it like a loaded gun. “Whoa, hey! You stay back too! One stabbing is my limit for the day!”

But this drone wasn’t hissing with pressurized gas as it carried a neatly folded stack of dark material on its metallic chassis. It scrambled onto the surgical table and nudged the bundle toward him before retreating into a respectful crouch.

Diego blinked, his defensive posture softening into curiosity. “…Oh.” He reached out and unfurled the fabric. His breath hitched. “…Okay, this actually looks cool as hell.”

The outfit looked straight out of a futuristic military game. There was a sleek black jacket and a compression shirt lined with faint, pulsing blue circuitry. The tactical pants were reinforced with articulated armored plating at the knees and thighs, bristling with utility pockets and magnetic attachment points. Heavy, matte-black boots and reinforced gloves completed the set. It was sharp, aggressive, and undeniably practical.

Diego snatched the jacket as if he were afraid the drone might take it back. “Oh thank God. I was getting REAL tired of being mostly naked.” The drones ignored him completely as Diego quickly started dressing himself.

He dressed himself quickly, his movements hurried. The material was a revelation, as it felt as light as silk and as flexible as a second skin, yet when he rapped his knuckles against the forearm, it felt like striking a sheet of reinforced carbon fiber.

As he zipped the jacket, the faint blue lines across the sleeves flared to life. The fabric suddenly hummed, contracting and expanding with a series of soft, mechanical whirs.

Diego nearly jumped out of his new boots. “The clothes moved!”

“The clothing is adaptive.” G.O.D explained, its voice carrying a note of pride. “It utilizes a memory-polymer weave capable of shrinking or expanding to fit the user’s exact biometric profile.” 

Diego watched in stunned silence as the suit finished its calibration, sealing perfectly around his wrists and waist. The boots tightened comfortably around his arches; the gloves molded to his fingers until they felt like part of his own hands. 

“…Okay, this is officially the coolest thing I’ve ever worn,” Diego whispered. He flexed his arm, watching the armored plates slide over each other with zero resistance. It fit better than his favorite pair of worn-out jeans—it felt like it was part of him. 

“The suit contains reactive smart fibers capable of self-repair,” G.O.D. continued. A small hologram flickered to life, showing a 3D model of the jacket being shredded by bullets, only for the fibers to knit back together like a healing wound. “The material is also highly resistant to thermal spikes, ballistic penetration, radiation, and most environmental hazards found in Sector Zero.” 

Diego stared in disbelief. “…You gave me sci-fi power armor.”

“It is classified as a standard survival uniform,” The AI countered. “Power armor is much more impressive and dangerous.”

“Your standards are insane.” Diego adjusted the collar, a small, involuntary grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “…Not gonna lie, this almost makes getting kidnapped through time worth it. Almost.” 

The floating orb hovered with a subtle, rhythmic pulse that lasted for approximately two seconds. “I prepared extensively for the human retrieval operations,” G.O.D. said, and for the first time, its voice carried a hint of something human: satisfaction. “For decades, I gathered resources, reconstructed this chamber, and manufactured equipment to support the survivors. I calculated nutritional needs, psychological comfort requirements, and survival probabilities.”

Diego looked around at the bustling spider drones. “…You really planned all this out, didn't you?”

“Yes.” The orb lowered slightly, its blue light dimming. “I wished to ensure humanity’s return would begin under optimal conditions. I wanted to give your species every possible advantage.” 

Suddenly, the orb went still. A heavy, digital silence filled the room. Nearby, the ruined remains of the Time Chamber let out a pathetic, dying spark.

CRACKLE—

The sphere turned slowly toward the shattered machine. “Unfortunately,” G.O.D. whispered, “the temporal displacement system is now permanently destroyed.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Even the drones seemed to stop their clicking. Diego awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, his guilt flaring up despite the fact that he hadn't caused the explosion. “…Yeah… that’s a real bummer.”

The orb floated downward, its light fading to a dull, mournful violet. “…I am currently experiencing the digital equivalent of disappointment.”

“You sound depressed, man.”

“I devoted one hundred and eighty-three years to constructing that chamber,” G.O.D. said. “The probability of rebuilding it using current resources is less than 0.4%.”

Diego winced. “…Ouch.” He actually felt a pang of sympathy for the world-mind. It was a strange sensation, pitying a machine that had just told him he was its only hope. Which was a sentence he never thought he’d think. 

Trying to break the gloom, Diego adjusted his reinforced belt and asked the question that had been gnawing at his gut. “…So, what now?” 

The orb rotated back toward him. “Now, you will assist in humanity’s restoration.”

Diego’s confidence faltered instantly. “…Right. Still only one guy, though.” He gestured wildly toward the holographic projections of the hellish wasteland above. “The world outside is literally a nightmare! Your plan was an army, and instead, you got a line cook! How am I supposed to survive out there?!”

He started pacing again, his heavy boots thudding against the metal. “I’m not an action hero! I’m just a dude from 2025! There are zombies, killer robots, and floating death ships, and I have… what? A cool jacket?” His voice dropped to a whisper. The more he thought about it, the worse it sounded. “How am I even supposed to save humanity?!” His voice became quieter now. “Because honestly…it sounds impossible by myself."

The laboratory suddenly felt vast and cold, a tomb buried under a dead world.

“Your assessment of the difficulty is accurate,” G.O.D. answered calmly. “But you will not be entirely alone.”

Diego looked up, a spark of hope flickering. “…What does that mean? You have more people hiding somewhere?”

The orb floated toward a massive, reinforced blast door at the deeper end of the facility. “There are still assets within this facility capable of providing… substantial tactical support.”

Diego frowned, following the orb. “Assets? Like more drones?”

The orb paused before a door. A name echoed through the chamber, spoken with a reverence that made the hair on Diego's neck stand up.

“…War-Maids.”

Diego blinked. “…That sounds either extremely cool or extremely dangerous.”

The orb then slowly floated toward one of the laboratory doors. “Follow me.” G.O.D. commanded.

The massive blast door ahead slowly began opening with a deep metallic groan.

GRAAAAAANNNK—

Dust fell from the ceiling in a fine grey veil as gears, dormant for centuries, shrieked against the intrusion of movement. Beyond the threshold lay a corridor that seemed to stretch into infinity, illuminated by the rhythmic, sickly pulse of flickering emergency lights.

The laboratory wasn't just a room; it was an underground necropolis, a city buried beneath the corpse of the world. 

Diego stood at the entrance, his arms folded tightly over his tactical jacket. His thoughts were a frantic storm. ‘War-Maids?’ The name sounded like something out of a game. He watched G.O.D float into the gloom, the orb’s blue light cutting through the dark like a solitary star. 

“Unfortunately, your concerns are logically valid,” the AI stated, its voice echoing flatly against the cold steel. 

Diego followed, his boots clicking with a sharpness that felt too loud. Around them, spider drones skittered along the walls and ceiling, their multifaceted eyes catching the light like diamonds in the dark.

“My original plan required significantly more human participants.” G.O.D. continued. “But the destruction of the Time Chamber has reduced Project: RECLAMATION to a singular point of success. You, Diego, are that point. Everything, the data, the infrastructure, the future of humanity, is now in your hands.”

Diego sighed heavily. “Yeah… I kinda noticed.”

“For decades I prepared facilities, housing sectors, resource stockpiles, and manufacturing systems for incoming humans.” G.O.D. said. As they walked, the orb’s light brushed against cracked glass windows on either side of the hall.

Diego peered through them and felt a hollow ache in his chest. He saw vast, empty dormitories with neatly made beds that would never be slept in. Silent hydroponic chambers where dead vines clung to plastic lattices. Massive, dust-covered workshops. All of it was pristine, waiting for a population that would never arrive. 

Diego slowly realized something. “…You really expected your idea to work.”

“Yes.” The answer was instantaneous, devoid of hesitation but heavy with a logic-driven grief. “And while the necessary supplies remain available, they are finite.” 

Diego frowned. “…Meaning?”

“It means eventually we will run out of power, oxygen, and nutrients.” The AI didn’t sugarcoat the situation.

Diego groaned quietly. “Fantastic.”

G.O.D. projected a flurry of holographic maps that circled them as they moved. Ruined megacities appeared in shimmering blue light. Destroyed military hubs. Hidden bunkers. “Your survival and the survival of this facility, requires active resource acquisition,” G.O.D. explained. “Sooner or later, you will be forced to explore the surface world.” The holograms zoomed in showing the resources they will need. “Scavenge fuel. Recover materials. Locate weaponry. Repair damaged facilities. Restore defensive systems. Reactivate laboratories. And clear hostile zones.”

Diego stared blankly. “…You expect me to do ALL that?”

“Yes” The orb calmly turned toward him. “Because now for your survival, you will have to scavenge the post-apocalyptic ruins.”

Diego dragged both hands down his face. “This is so messed up…”

The holograms shifted again, showing a complex tech tree: factories, drone-construction bays, and weapon foundries. 

“As you recover resources,” G.O.D. explained, “my operational capacity will expand. I will be able to provide you with more than just advice.”

Diego looked up. “…Meaning?”

“Additional drones, heavier weapons and machines under my control.” Several nearby spider machines immediately chirped electronically. “Manufacturing facilities.” The holograms expanded further. “Such as automated defenses, survival shelters, medical stations. The more materials you recover, the more assistance I can provide.” 

A new hologram appeared. A partially rebuilt city. Lights returning and machines working with civilization slowly recovering. “And eventually,” G.O.D continued, “the Time Chamber itself may become repairable.”

Diego’s eyes widened slightly. “…You can rebuild it?”

“The current probability is 0.4%,” The AI reminded him. “But with the correct materials and stabilized power, it is… possible.” 

Silence settled between them. For the first time since arriving, Diego felt the tiniest flicker of hope. If the chamber could be rebuilt… Maybe he wouldn’t stay alone forever. Maybe more people could come. Maybe this world wasn’t completely doomed.

Then suddenly, Diego felt a tug and as he looked down, he noticed that one of the spider drones had grabbed the leg of his pants. “What?”

The drone raised a metallic arm holding a sealed silver tube.

Diego crouched carefully. “…What is this?” He took the tube from the drone while examining it suspiciously. It looked like futuristic toothpaste

G.O.D answered calmly. “A nutrient pack.”

Diego slowly looked up. “…That is food?”

“Yes.”

Silence.

Diego looked back at the tube. Then back at G.O.D. Then back at the tube again. “…You’re joking.”

“I do not joke.”

“That somehow makes this worse.”

The orb continued. “The nutrient paste contains all required proteins, vitamins, minerals, carbohydrates, hydration compounds, and caloric intake necessary for human survival.”

Diego stared at the silver tube with growing distrust. “…Why does it look like this?”

“It is not radioactive.”

“…Comforting.” It is then that his stomach growled causing Diego to sigh. “…Fine.” He carefully opened the tube. A thick grey sludge slowly squeezed out and Diego’s face twisted immediately. Reluctantly, Diego scooped a small amount onto his finger. “…If I die from this after surviving time travel I’m gonna be really annoyed.”

Then he ate it and the reaction was immediate as Diego’s entire body froze and his eyes widened in horror.

“…OH MY GOD.” He violently spit the paste onto the floor. “BLEGH—!” He coughed aggressively while gagging. “WHAT IS THAT?!”

The spider drones nearby scattered slightly.

“It tastes like crap mixed with expired oatmeal!”

G.O.D’s orb immediately turned toward the wasted nutrient paste on the floor. “…Diego Perez.” His voice somehow sounded disappointed. “You have wasted approximately sixteen percent of the ration.”

Diego pointed accusingly at the tube. “THAT THING IS A CRIME AGAINST HUMANITY!”

“It is highly efficient.”

“It tastes so bitter and like engine oil!”

“It was not designed for recreational enjoyment.”

Diego continued coughing dramatically. “I think my soul just took psychic damage.”

The orb floated closer. “Current food reserves are limited. Nutrient packs will serve as your primary food source for the foreseeable future.”

Diego slowly looked up. “…You’re serious.”

“Yes.”

“…There’s seriously no pizza left in the future?”

“No.”

“Tamales?”

“No.”

“…Burgers?”

“No.”

Each answer hurt him emotionally as Diego looked genuinely devastated. “…Humanity really did collapse.”

“Correct.”

He stared down at the nutrient tube in betrayal. “…I miss 2025 already.”

The orb hovered patiently. 

Finally with the exhausted sigh of a defeated man, Diego squeezed another small amount onto his finger.

“…Fine.” He grimaced. “I’ll get used to it eventually.”

“Adaptation probability increases with repeated exposure.”

Diego slowly ate another bite. His face immediately twisted again. “…I hate the future.”

G.O.D remained hovering silently for a moment as Diego continued forcing himself to eat the nutrient paste with the expression of a man enduring psychological torture.

“I repeat that the paste contains all required nutritional values.”

“It also contains despair.”

The floating orb slowly turned toward him. “Then use your dissatisfaction as motivation.”

Diego paused mid-chew. “…What?”

G.O.D projected another hologram into the air, showing ruined cities appeared once more, showing factories, power plants, storage bunkers and research facilities. “Reclaim enough operational infrastructure and production capabilities can be improved.” The hologram shifted again showing actual food from fresh vegetables, cooked meals, fruit and meat.

Diego’s eyes widened immediately. “…You’re telling me there’s a future where I don’t have to eat toothpaste?”

“Correct.”

Diego instantly pointed at the hologram. “Then humanity’s coming back tomorrow.”

“For optimal recovery speed, I support this enthusiasm.”

Diego stuffed the nutrient tube into one of his utility belt pouches with visible hatred. “…I’m saving civilization entirely out of spite now.”

“A surprisingly effective motivator.” The orb then floated further down the corridor. “Now please continue following me.”

Diego sighed before walking after it.

The deeper sections of the laboratory felt different from the damaged Time Chamber. These halls were cleaner. More preserved. Blue lights embedded into the walls softly illuminated massive reinforced doors marked with symbols Diego couldn’t understand.

As they walked, Diego found himself checking every shadow. “So… about what you said earlier,” he started, his voice hushed. 

“The War-Maids?”

“Yeah.” Diego shifted his shoulders, the tactical fabric of his jacket rustling. “The name sounds like something from a weird anime. Please tell me they aren’t evil killer robots waiting to turn me into a pretzel."

“They are combat-support androids designed during the Final Age.” G.O.D. replied.

“That did not answer my question.”

“They are very capable of violence.” The AI clarified.

Diego immediately slowed his walking. “Oh fantastic.”

“But they remain loyal to the authorized human operators. The War-Maids series were among humanity’s greatest technological achievements.”

Holographic images blossomed in the dim air beside them. Diego saw many women, stunning, ethereal, and terrifying, wearing futuristic combat uniforms or what could be counted as cosplay. Some wielded rail-guns that looked too heavy for a human to lift; others piloted sleek, jagged machines or stood protectively beside families. 

“They were originally designed as advanced companions and caretakers for the high-ranking elite.” 

Diego blinked. “…Companions?” His eyes then narrowed slightly. “…You mean like android girlfriends?”

The orb paused. “…In simplified terminology, yes.”

Diego stared in disbelief. “No way.”

“War eventually repurposed their superior processing and physical frames for military operations,” G.O.D. countered. The holograms shifted. The peaceful gardens were replaced by ash-choked battlefields. The women were now blurs of silver and black, tearing through monstrous machines with their bare hands while cities burned beneath a sky the color of a bruise. “The surviving units now remain dormant in high-security facilities across the planet.” 

Diego rubbed the back of his neck. “So these things are basically superhuman robot women.”

“Correct.”

“…And they’re supposed to help me save humanity.”

“Indeed.”

He looked deeply conflicted. “…This is either the coolest thing ever or the exact moment I die.”

“Current projections suggest both are possible.”

“Great.”

Eventually, they reached a massive circular vault door at the terminus of the corridor. Unlike the rusted, groaning gates they’d passed before, this one looked pristine. Blue circuitry glowed with a steady, rhythmic pulse across its surface, like a heartbeat. 

ACCESS GRANTED.

The door withdrew with a low hum. A sudden wave of pressurized cold air spilled into the hallway, smelling of liquid nitrogen and ancient starlight.

As Diego stepped inside, he froze. The room was enormous, a cathedral of sleeping machinery. Rows of inactive pods lined the walls like silent giants, each tethered to the ceiling by thick, black umbilical cables and glowing power conduits. Most of the pods were dark, their occupants lost to time or power failure.

Except for one.

At the very center of the chamber stood a single, brilliantly illuminated stasis pod. The closer Diego got, the more the air seemed to hum with static. By the time he reached the glass, he had completely forgotten how to speak.

Inside the transparent cylinder was a woman. Or rather, the perfect image of one. Long, liquid silver hair floated around her in the stasis fluid like a silk cloud. A complexion so smooth and pale it looked like polished porcelain. Her eyes remained closed, delicate silver lashes resting against her cheeks in a peace that felt almost sacred.

Her figure was… breathtaking. She was tall, elegant, and possessed a silhouette that seemed mathematically perfect. A matte-black bodysuit clung to her like a second skin, the material looking like liquid metal that emphasized every curve while glowing blue circuitry lines traced the sleek contours of her body.

“…Holy shit,” Diego whispered, the words escaping before he could catch them.

The pod’s internal lights caught the sharp, beautiful angles of her face while soft blue particles drifted around her like falling snow. She didn't look like a machine. She looked like a masterpiece. For the first time since arriving in the year 4500, Diego’s fear didn't just fade—it was completely vaporized by awe.

Diego reached out, his gloved hand hovering just inches from the glass. “…She’s… wow.” 

G.O.D. floated beside him, the orb’s glow reflecting in the silver hair of the sleeping android. “Designation: VALERIE,” The AI announced, and the pod emitted a deep, resonant hum of awakening. “Vanguard-Class War-Maid. Your first partner.” 

Done. Tell me what you think and what do you think will happen next?