Divine Singularity || Reader x Murder Drones

VIII

You turned, the weight of your body shifting the earth beneath you in a low, rumbling quake. The soil cracked softly under the pressure, moss brushing against your limbs as you adjusted just enough to face the rustling coming from the underbrush. Predictably, J stepped out from the thicket. She was already dusting herself off, sighing in quiet frustration as she held a basket in her arms. Another care package, no doubt.

"Good to see you again," you greeted. You heaved yourself upright, dragging your limbs across the forest floor, careful not to shake the canopy too much or disturb any animals. There was no need to cause unnecessary panic.

J gave a sharp nod in return, her way of acknowledging affection without admitting to it.

You reached out a massive clawed hand and flattened it against the grass, creating a makeshift seat out of your palm. The forest floor was damp and uneven, and you suspected J would sooner stand the whole time than risk staining her already ruffled uniform with sap and mud. She paused only briefly before stepping up into your hand, seating herself like a queen on a throne of flesh and bone.

"How was your day?" you asked, genuinely curious, if not out of politeness then because you found her perspective... interesting. It was hard to remember the minutiae of daily life when your body was made of wings, eyes, and light itself.

"Tiring," she grunted, already peeling back the wrap from the basket to reveal its contents. A neat spread of fruit glistened in the moonlight—well-arranged, cleaned, even sorted by ripeness. J never did anything halfway. "I don't like being paired up with N for anything."

You tilted your head slightly, amused. "Surely he's not that bad."

J snorted, an undignified but satisfying sound. "You have the luxury of saying that because it hasn't happened to you yet." She handed you a fruit with a flick of her wrist, and you took it graciously. "He's a hard worker, I'll admit that much. But he just... he makes so many mistakes. Like, it almost feels intentional. He messes things up by trying too hard to help. And he's just always so... so happy about everything to the point it gets annoying."

Her fists clenched as she spoke. You could feel the frustration coming off of her. But you said nothing. You just listened.

Eventually, she deflated, releasing a long, slow breath. Her posture eased. You tilted your head back and let the fruit she'd given you tumble into your maw, the sweet, acidic juices bursting between rows of jagged teeth. You didn't bother being elegant about it. J didn't mind.

"And what about you?" she asked after a moment, brushing off her knees with one hand. "Any progress?"

You clicked your teeth together once, the sound echoing. "Indeed. With focus, I've refined my control over the size of the light constructs. They're stable now—easier to handle. Less volatile."

To demonstrate, you summoned a sphere of Extant energy in your open hand—pure, glowing, softly pulsing. Then, as J watched, you narrowed your focus and compressed it until it was no larger than a plum. Small enough to sit comfortably in her palm. You held it out for her to take.

"Wow," she breathed, taking it. Her optics followed the soft swirl of light beneath its surface. "That's... impressive. Does that mean you could eventually apply it to yourself?"

You paused, the thought curling into your mind. The concept wasn't new—you'd thought about it. The implication wasn't just technical. It was existential.

"...Perhaps," you answered slowly. "Considering my current state, shrinking myself down would be a necessary step if I were to return to my original drone form. I wouldn't dismiss the possibility."