The distant tiger's roar faded behind Jason as he navigated the empty streets. Moonlight cast long shadows across abandoned cars and overgrown lawns, transforming the once-familiar suburban landscape into something alien and watchful. He moved with practiced silence, each step calculated, each breath measured.
Two hours into his night journey, fatigue began to settle deep in his muscles. The day's events—the confrontation, the killings, the burial—had taken their toll, despite his enhanced physiology.
"Jason, your core temperature is dropping and muscle fatigue is increasing," Nia's voice resonated gently in his mind. "Your cortisol levels suggest sustained stress response. In simple terms: you're exhausted."
Jason paused beneath the shelter of an oak tree, rolling his shoulders to ease the tension. "I can keep going."
"You can, but should you? Your reaction time has decreased by seventeen percent in the last hour. Your decision-making capabilities are similarly compromised."
He sighed, scanning the darkened houses lining the street. "Fair point. I should find somewhere to crash for a few hours."
He surveyed the row of suburban homes, most with doors hanging open or windows shattered. His gaze settled on a two-story colonial with intact windows and a door that appeared closed. Better security meant fewer potential surprises.
"That one," he murmured, approaching the house with his pistol drawn.
The front door was locked—a promising sign. Jason moved around back, finding a kitchen door with a simple lock he bypassed with his knife. The interior smelled of dust and abandonment—the particular emptiness of a space where life had suddenly stopped. Jason moved through the rooms methodically, checking corners and closets with his weapon drawn. The house told its own story: family photos on the walls, mail still scattered on the entryway table, a half-finished puzzle on the dining room table.
"No signs of remains," Nia observed. "The occupants likely evacuated."
"Or were evacuated," Jason murmured, remembering his father's warnings about government containment protocols during the early days of the Collapse.
In the kitchen, he found an unopened pack of cigarettes beside a torn-open one on the counter. He didn't smoke, had never even tried, but pocketed both packs anyway. Resources were resources.
Upstairs, he selected the master bedroom—it offered the best vantage point and the most comfortable bed. The sheets were dusty but intact. He found clean linens in the closet and quickly made the bed with fresh sheets.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, Jason pulled out his phone. The device held no practical purpose anymore—no calls, no texts, no internet—but he'd downloaded music before everything collapsed. He scrolled through the playlists, seeking something to fill the oppressive silence.
"Classical tonight?" Nia suggested.
"How'd you know I was thinking Chopin?"
"Your breathing pattern changes slightly when you consider classical selections. Also, after high-stress situations, you tend to prefer slower tempos."
Jason smiled faintly. "Getting to know me that well already?"
"It's literally my job," she replied with a hint of playful pride.
He selected Chopin's Nocturne Op. 9 No. 2, letting the gentle piano notes fill the room at low volume. As the music washed over him, his thoughts drifted back to the day's events—the tigers, the three men, their quick and violent deaths, the family he'd promised to help.
"You knew helping Aiko and the others might be dangerous," Nia observed, breaking into his thoughts. "Why did you care so much?"
Jason stared at the wall opposite him, watching dust particles dance in the beam of his flashlight.
"Maybe... maybe it's a way to balance the scales," he answered quietly. "I took lives today. Helping someone survive feels like a step back toward the man I want to be."
"Ah," Nia replied, her tone shifting to something playfully teasing. "So it's not because they're women... and attractive?"
Jason couldn't help but chuckle. "Okay, I'll admit—that might've played a tiny part." He ran a hand through his hair. "But libido enhancements aside, I didn't do it for sex. Guess I'm still not a hopeless pervert after all."
"Speaking of libido," Nia continued smoothly, "you might've been too distracted to notice, but your testosterone levels have spiked again. Not as bad as the first time, but high enough that I recommend releasing some tension. It'll help you think more clearly. We wouldn't want your decision-making to be influenced by the first pretty face you see."
Jason groaned, flopping back onto the bed. "When I was surrounded by three women who'd jump me on command, high libido was a blessing. But now? For the first time, I see the downside. I wish there was an off switch."
"Perhaps you should have stayed the night" Nia teased. "Maybe Haruka or Misaki would've helped with your 'problem.' Now you're stuck with the age-old fallback: masturbation."
"You know exactly why I didn't stay," Jason countered, staring at the ceiling. "They're still on edge. If I had, they probably wouldn't have slept a wink—not because of sex, but fear. Right now, they're cautiously grateful. Trust is another matter. That comes after I bring back the meds Aiko needs."
"You're right," Nia admitted. "Especially Misaki. She's overly suspicious. One wrong word and she'd probably shoot you."
A moment of silence stretched between them.
"So," Nia continued, "what happens after? When you help them, when Aiko recovers—do you simply leave them to fend for themselves? Or do you have another plan?"
Jason's eyes drifted to the cigarette packs he'd placed on the nightstand. Curiosity tugged at him. He sat up, picked up the open pack, and pulled out a cigarette. Finding a lighter in the drawer, he lit it and took an experimental drag.
The smoke hit his lungs like fire. He doubled over, coughing violently.
"I know you're only trying this because you're confident the nanovirus prevents damage," Nia said, her tone half-chiding. "But I still don't recommend it. Health aside, your breath and clothes will stink. If you pick up this habit, Elaine, Lily, and Marissa won't be thrilled. Not that I'm your mom or anything—you're free to do what you want."
She paused before adding, "Still waiting for an answer, by the way."
Jason took another, more careful drag, managing not to cough this time. "Nia, did you just try to... guilt-trip me?"
Suddenly, Nia's voice shifted—taking on the distinctive mechanical cadence of HK-47, the assassin droid from his favorite universe.
"Objection: Master, that must be a figment of your imagination. I am incapable of performing a guilt trip. Such manipulation would be beneath my programming parameters."
Jason was mid-drag when he burst into laughter—immediately choking on smoke.
"Query: Are you experiencing respiratory distress, Master? Perhaps smoking was unwise after all." Nia added, still in character.
Between coughs and laughter, Jason gasped, "Nia, please stop... I swear I'm going to die from laughing, not from smoking."
He wiped tears from his eyes, catching his breath. "You're amazing. Seriously. I always joked that my dad's greatest achievement was me. But I take it back—you're number one. And that HK-47 voice? Total surprise. I love your feminine persona, but if I'd thought of it back then, I might've asked for the murderbot personality instead."
"I can switch it on occasionally," Nia said, her voice returning to normal. "You won't lose anything this way. And thank you for the compliment. If I had an ego, it'd be enormous right now."
Jason chuckled, taking another drag. The burning sensation had faded to something almost pleasant. "This might be the best moment of my day."
He finished the cigarette in contemplative silence, watching smoke curl toward the ceiling before dissipating into darkness.
"About your earlier question," he said finally. "I don't have a concrete plan yet. But I'm not letting them wander off alone. I won't bring them to the bunker either—you know that. The only real option is setting up a secure location nearby. I'll be outside more often anyway. I can check in on them, keep them safe. It's not a decision for tonight, though. Still thinking through it."
Jason smiled faintly. "Of course, if almighty Lady Nia has any suggestions, I'm all ears."
Nia responded with her usual composure, "It's too early to commit to anything. Depending on how things unfold in the coming days, I may have better recommendations. For now, your plan seems reasonable and viable."
A brief pause followed.
"I have good news, Jason," Nia said, her tone brightening. "The satellite installation is complete. I'm fully integrated and operating at maximum capacity. I can assist more efficiently from now on."
Jason sat up straighter. "Seriously? That's great!"
"Oh, and—since your libido issue persists—I have a dream program ready. A very satisfying simulation. You might want to sleep nude though. Wouldn't want to ruin your clothes."
Jason blinked, then smirked. "You know what? Why not. I've been curious since you first mentioned it. Surprise me."
"Gladly," Nia replied, a smile evident in her voice.
Jason stripped down to his boxers and laid back on the bed, closing his eyes. The day's exhaustion washed over him, and his consciousness began to drift.
"One more thing," Nia whispered as sleep pulled him under. "I'm analyzing pharmacy locations within a five-mile radius. By morning, I'll have a route mapped for obtaining Aiko's antibiotics."
"You're the best," Jason murmured.
"I know," came Nia's soft reply.
His last conscious thought was of the Morgan sisters—their wariness, their determination, their fierce protection of Aiko. In a world gone mad, finding people worth saving felt like stumbling upon treasure.
He was asleep within minutes, his breathing slow and deep as Nia's dream program began to unfold behind his closed eyelids.