Eve Squad's private dining chamber in Nomad. The long table was cluttered with plates of fusion cuisine—flame-grilled Ryne-beast steak, nutrient-rich rice nebulae, synthetic wine—half-eaten in the midst of a loud, laughter-filled conversation.
Kai leaned back in his chair, goggles pushed up, a smug grin on his face. "So, Eve… tell me again how many languages you can speak fluently now?"
Jax, mouth full, pointed a fork at Eve. "Yeah, and didn't you absorb a missile two weeks ago? Just soaked it up with your nanotech skin like it was a sunbath. That's not just cool—that's scary hot."
Eve, seated at the head of the table, leaned forward with a half-smile, her bluish-white hair catching the light like moonlight on steel. "You're all just fascinated because I'm the only AI who happens to be just as human "
Axel, calculating and deadpan, chimed in: "Eve has achieved a 97.4% success rate in high-risk missions. She is statistically cooler than all of you. Combined."
Mira laughed. "We don't need statistics to know that, Axel. We've seen her punch a mech to death with her bare hands, then patch Kai's ribs with a nanofiber thread while quoting ancient Saiyaran poetry."
Kai, raising his glass: "To the lady who's everything we can love her for and more."
All: "To Eve!"
Eve raised her own glass, chuckling softly. "And to the misfits that make her happen," but then her smile dropped and she became serious, meeting each of their eyes. "You've all saved my life more than once. I might be engineered to survive anything, but it is your humanity that gives me purpose. Your courage. Your flaws. Your jokes, even."
Everyone became silent in appreciation and admiration.
Vayne raised a brow. "Even my jokes?"
Axel: "Statistically the least valuable part of the squad's morale boost protocol."
Laughter echoed. The tension of missions and battle bled out into warmth, into family.