Divine Singularity || Reader x Murder Drones

IV

"Are you ready?"

The words came soft from your maw, barely a whisper against the hush of night winds, but the tension in J's grip told you she'd heard them clearly. You could feel her nestled securely against your back—or what you had come to assume was your back, in this strange, beast-like anatomy of yours. It was hard to say with absolute certainty what counted as your front or your side anymore.

Your plumage, thick and layered like a cascade of silk and bone, all but swallowed her form. Only her upper torso remained visible, bobbing slightly above the sea of white that made up your upper spine. Her legs were completely lost in the downy warmth, hidden in a nest of your living architecture.

J let out a quiet gulp, her arms tightening instinctively as though she were a child gripping the mast during a storm.

"Ready as I'll ever be," she muttered—clearly not ready at all.

And with that simple declaration, you launched.

But not like before—not with the reckless abandon that had carried you across skies like a comet tearing through the heavens. This time, you were careful. You made sure to watch each beat of your wings. You angled yourself upward with grace, not speed, giving J time to adjust, to breathe, to understand the freedom that was slowly coming.

She gasped sharply as the forest floor began to fall away beneath you, the earth shrinking, warping into a child's playset—the trees becoming bristles, the rocks like toys tossed carelessly in the dirt. Her grip tightened again, mechanical fingers curling around handfuls of feathers, and for a moment, you worried she might crush them.

The dove nestled in your feathers let out a soft, calming coo, as if trying to ease her nerves, though you doubted J could hear it over the roar of the wind.

Her breathing grew uneven—ragged, fast, like the start of a panic spiral. You didn't blame her. The world had dropped away so quickly, and the two of you now soared in the sky, two beings (plus a dove) dancing among clouds.

So you reached for her—one of your many arms curling upward—and offered a finger.

She latched onto it without hesitation. Her small, metallic hand barely managed to wrap halfway around the girth of your digit, but she held it like a tether to the world. Like a lifeline.

You would've laughed if she wasn't so panicked.

And then—just as you passed through the clouds, parting them like fabric torn at the seams—J screamed.

It was less a scream of terror and more a sound of protest, of sheer disbelief that she had allowed herself to be in this situation. She threw herself forward, burying her face into your feathers and gripping tight enough that you could feel the tiny shudder of her power core vibrating through your hide.

You rumbled a chuckle, the sound resonating deep in your chest like thunder rolling across a distant horizon.

"Look up, J," you said gently, guiding her attention with a claw. "There's nothing to be afraid of."

She didn't respond. Her voice came muffled, flattened by the sea of feathers she'd buried herself into. "We are thousands of feet in the air! There is absolutely plenty to be afraid of!"

You chuckled again, the sound this time laced with affection rather than amusement.

"Trust me," you whispered. "There's nothing up here that would dare touch you. Not while I'm around. And do you really think I'd let you fall?"

There was a moment—a pause that stretched just long enough for the sky to breathe around you both—and then, slowly, she peeked upward.

And the world cracked open.