Synthetic

Jaka sat like a storybook assassin atop the entrance arch to the rebelling village. His wings were half-extended, arched in the middle like a demon’s, a few feathers missing. Those missing feathers orbited his hunched form like a spectral ring of supernatural blades, occasionally darting out of formation under their own power to strike down a target. They were, in essence, drones - each one operating independently, each one another extension of his processors.

Below him, villagers crowded together: some crying, some rigid and motionless, others trembling. And they were the lucky ones.

The village lay in ruins, the demon population obliterated. If the orders hadn’t included the “send a message” clause, the crowd below wouldn’t exist at all. But someone had to spread the story - that was their purpose. Flames licked the wooden structures, ignited by the hot exhaust of his drones’ ion engines. Dead bodies littered the dusty streets, their blood pooling into dark, viscous puddles. Men, women, children - none had escaped.

The whole thing irritated him. He could have ended it in a single strike from above, clean and efficient. But no. He was required to make it memorable. Which was why, besides his usual method of slicing targets neatly in half, he had also used his hands. He had ripped off limbs, torn out throats, crushed skulls, and pummeled stomachs - all while his victims remained conscious. Their screams had shaken those left alive. He had even used a few of the ones below - those who surrendered rather than hide, fight, or flee - as examples to the rest. He discovered quickly that the brutal deaths of children were remarkably effective silencers.

A drone suddenly detached from formation, and his eyes followed it as it accelerated past Mach one in under a second, slamming through the wall of a house like a thrown dart. A scream rippled outward, and the drone returned moments later, its surface freshly coated in blood. Another demon who had come back rather than run like he wanted them to.

He sighed, stood, and slowly turned in a full circle. The plains surrounding the village were all farmland - fertile, well-used, rows thick with harvest-ready crops. A single thought sent a drone out over the fields, and seconds later fire began to bloom. Smoke rose in heavy columns. A dark cloud was already forming above the village from the sheer volume of burning structures, and the fields would only feed it. Soon neighboring villages would arrive to see what had happened, and word would spread. Eventually, everyone would know what became of those who killed the knights assigned to collect tax.

Below him, a few demons were still sobbing, their voices needling at him. One in particular - a woman, probably considered pretty by their standards - shook uncontrollably.

His expression remained flat as he jumped down from the arch, wings opening to slow his descent.

One more death wouldn’t hurt.

Ylfa detached from Jere’s neck as his wings retracted with a hiss into the panels on his back. She sighed, stretching, then turned her gaze over the water. A wide lake lay before them - still, pristine, bordered by soft golden sand. It was far from everything, untouched and silent. Only the native wildlife disturbed its calm.

She turned just as the last feather slid into place, grinning.
“Isn’t it pretty?”

He nodded, agreeing simply because he had no reason not to. To him it was just another landscape - he had seen better, and preferred the view from the air anyway. But it pleased Ylfa, so he smiled.
“It is.”

She twirled on the sand, heel digging in, light summer dress fluttering and revealing glimpses of thigh. Her laughter was sweet.
“And it’s the perfect day too! Isn’t this great!”

He nodded, feeling the warmth beneath his feet as he removed his shoes, following her lead. She suddenly bounded over and - swift as a swipe - pulled his T-shirt right off. She paused, openly staring at his toned chest with a spark of hunger before breaking into a grin.
“You could use some tan.”

He shrugged - then froze as she lifted her arms above her head, expectant. Her smile didn’t fade.
“Take it off, please.”

He gave a nervous nod and did as she asked. Her dress fell to the sand with his shirt and their shoes. His breath caught as he looked her over - the bikini suited her perfectly. Her tail wagged behind her as she grinned.
“Go on. Take it all in. You’ll be seeing more of it tonight.”

His heart stuttered. She laughed and put a hand on her hip.
“Come on, you’ve already seen all of me. How is this making you nervous?”

He shrugged, trying to fight off the thoughts firing through his mind.
“I’d like to know that too.”

She laughed again and grabbed his hand.
“Come on, let’s swim, and then we can sunbathe.”

He barely had time to respond before she pulled him toward the waterline. Her face was pure joy, laughter ringing through the still air, hair bouncing. For a moment he was mesmerised - until his eyes drifted downward to the movement of her chest. He quickly looked away. She burst out laughing, right as the water reached their feet. The cold made her slow for a beat, but she pressed on, following him in.

The water rose around their legs, washing over their thighs before they reached waist depth. Then she released his hand, took a breathy little hype-up exclamation, and leapt forward with a splash. She yelped at the cold before vanishing under the surface.

He waited until she popped back up, sputtering.
“Are you alright?”

She grinned, water up to her neck, arms working beneath the surface to keep afloat despite easily being able to stand.
“I’m fine! It’s just a bit cold. Come on in!”

He dialed his processors to filter out some - not all - of the cold, then lowered himself until he was level with her. She flashed him a mischievous smile and splashed him before darting away.
“Race you!”

He grinned. She didn’t stand a chance.

The sun caressed their skin as they lay on the soft sand, hand in hand, drying off as much as trying to tan. Jere doubted he could tan at all, but it felt nice to have his processors amplify the sensations he could feel. His world became the lapping of the water, the gentle drift of the wind, the cradle of warm sand, the embrace of sunlight - and the warmth of Ylfa’s hand.

She sighed softly, staring up at the drifting clouds overhead, shaped like slow, fluffy whales.
“It’s weird to think that we were up there with the clouds… and that we’ll go up there again soon.”

He smiled. It was natural to him, but he knew that what was natural to him wasn’t natural to others. He hoped that one day he could show her enough that it would feel normal to her, too. Until then, he delighted in her wonder, her awe. It pleased him to show her something that made her eyes sparkle.

“I’m glad you enjoy it.”

She turned her head, grinning at him.
“Well of course you do. It’s kinda your entire thing.”

He smiled back - but guilt suddenly swept through him like a shadow. He wasn’t sure why. He had to query his processors for the source of it, because he couldn’t locate it himself. They returned the logical answer, and the words left his mouth almost without permission.

“Ylfa… I’m sorry.”

Her face fell into confusion.
“What? Why?”

“Because I’m not very good at all this. I must seem like… like…”

She smiled gently.
“A brick wall?”

He nodded - both grateful she’d found the words and ashamed that she could phrase it better than he could, despite him being a supercomputer. But her smile never wavered.

“But you know I don’t think of you like that.”

She shuffled closer, the sand soft between them.
“If I did, I wouldn’t want to do anything with you.”

He opened his mouth, but she went on.

“I mean, you were like that for a long time. But I decided before you started to open up that you’d suit me.”

Confusion raced through him. She grinned.

“I saw how perfectly you did everything. And I knew that you’d treat me perfectly too, if I played my cards right. The fact you’re able to love me like you do? That’s the cherry on top.”

Words fluttered out of him like loose pages.
“So… you don’t think I’m stale?”

She chuckled.
“Oh no, you’re very stale. But I know that on the inside…”

She placed her free hand on his bare chest.

“…you’re full of emotion. As long as some of it escapes, I’m happy.”

Warmth flooded him, and he smiled.
“Thank you.”

She smiled back - and then repeated the same manoeuvre she’d pulled that morning, rolling smoothly until she lay on his chest. She knew her weight didn’t affect him in the slightest, but he felt the shift of her damp swimsuit against his bare skin, soft and cooling, enough to make his nerves spark. Her smile curved into a teasing grin.

“So, what about you? Why do you love me?”

His heart skipped beats as his processors scrambled to compile a list.
“I… well, firstly, I love how you put up with me.”

She laughed.
“Yeah? That’s good. What else?”

He swallowed.
“Well… I love how you can switch so quickly from soft to teasing…”

She laughed again, a beautiful, ringing sound. He continued, emboldened.

“And I really love how fast you adapt.”

She grinned.
“Yeah? Not my body?”

Heat bloomed across his face as her legs twined with his.
“W-well, of course…”

She smiled sweetly.
“We’re married, darling. You can appreciate my body. It’s as much yours as it is mine.”

He nodded, throat tight. She shifted forward - and he suddenly noticed her bikini top wasn’t clasped anymore. It slid onto his chest, cool and damp fabric resting between them. Only the closeness of their bodies kept her covered. She noticed his gaze, and her smile softened, hair brushing his cheeks.

“And by that standard,” she murmured, “yours is mine too.”

He stared up at her in wonder, asking himself - yet again, for what his processors registered as instance three hundred and twelve - how he had possibly ended up with someone as beautiful as her. And then she leaned down and kissed him.