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Chapter Text

Chapter 1: Codename Dog

Africa  

Sitting atop a building and bored out of his mind, Sam yawned and rested his chin on his hand, propped atop his knee. Spying the streets of the city below, he heard the blasts of explosions, the screams of civilians running away, and the 'Moos!' of the gekkos chasing them. All in all, a thorough sweep of terror across the streets. So, that begged the question… 

Why the hell was he here? 

The Desperado operatives roaming the roads seemed to be on top of things, so he really didn't understand why both he and Sundowny had to be deployed on the mission. Overkill if anything. 

"SCREEEEEE!" 

Sam turned dull eyes to the screeching UG, Metal Gear Ray, which was busy getting slashed up by a blond enemy cyborg. Firing swathes of missiles at the cyborg, it roared in affront as blondie jumped from one missile to the next, eventually getting close enough to begin cutting away at Ray's armor with his HF blade.

Impressive to some maybe, but to Sam? 

"Haaaah," he yawned, rubbing tears of boredom off his eyes. He could butcher that brain-dead death-machine with a single slash of his katana. So seeing someone take multiple cracks at it with his blade was akin to seeing an idiot wave his tiny toothpick around and being proud of it. 

Sam rolled his eyes, muttering, 

"Amateur." 

He sighed and stared at the clouds. Maybe this was the enemy's strategy, boring him to death. Because by god, if nothing interesting happened in five minutes he was gonna unsheathe his blade and commit sudoku- 

Bzzt- Blast! 

A fiery column of shrapnel exploded up from the ground, scattering dust, debris and cyborg remains. Sam frowned, taking out his binoculars and peering through them, at the cluster of buildings from where the explosion took place. Sam hummed, seeing that blondie was finally done with his break-up with Ray. Leaving poor Ray broken in bits and pieces, leaving him a destroyed death-machine which only a kind-hearted, feisty, and starry-eyed engineer could put back together. In an epic tale of destiny, healing, and becoming more than just your programming, as the engineer and the metal gear break past the boundaries of man and man-made, and show the world the magical essence of love, taking it head-on to rid it of all hate and lead to everlasting world-peace… with some extra robo-human smut thrown in for good mix for all the freaks with a hard-on for that… Huh. 

Sam blinked in wonder at his own ramblings, rubbing his chin with a bemused frown. Looks like he was more bored than he thought. Better get out of here before he starts an investigation into the Moo-sical qualities of a gekko's cry. 

And right as Sam's eyes slid off his scope, they fell upon an equally bizarre sight. It was a bookstore, in a war-torn street with patrolling cyborgs, bleating gekkos and stray missiles flying everywhere. But inside the building was a lone man, huddled in a corner with a stack of books beside him, his only company being the practically nude women who starred on the covers of the man's fine selection of reading material. This man of fine culture and questionable priorities enjoyed Sam's attention as he stared at him through his scope, wondering whether the man had lost his marbles or if his own mind had devolved into hallucinating out of boredom. 

Wearing a plated metal headband, a dark-blue spandex with a thick green vest, and with his face covered by a black mask which covered his mouth and nose and spared the world from seeing his lecherous grin, the man (or maniac (or hallucination (or whatever Sam's mind was tripping on))) giggled perversely as he flipped a page of his naughty reading. 

Sam grabbed his face and mourned the loss of his sanity, his heart clenching as his mind decided to laugh in the face of his purposeless existence. This is what happens when a man doesn't believe in anything, when he has no reason to be holding his blade, other than because that is all he had ever known. 'Why am I here?' doesn't even begin to account for all the unease and pointlessness that occupies his every waking moment… 

Sam grit his teeth and clenched his fist. 

No. 

World Marshal had a plan, and he was sticking to it. 

Until he found his own purpose, he would drink from the ambition of someone with absolute confidence in their objective. And if it had to be World Marshal, so be it. When Armstrong took his arm - when he proved that his blade was dull before his ambition - he'd gained his sword-hand in turn. 

And so to protect his own sanity, Sam brought out a rocket-launcher, hefted it over his shoulder, fingered the trigger and- 

Boom! 

Fired it at that bookstore-! 

Blast! 

Debris rained from the air as the store went up in flames, the explosion blasting all the walls and leaving the building a smoking ruin. And a little distance away, outside the store, was a man with slightly torn clothing, thrown out of the store and rolling to a halt against a wall. 

Shakily sitting up to his knees, the lewd lover of a man stared at the burning wreck with disbelieving eyes, crawling to a burning pile of centerfolds in front of him and looking at them like the loss of a precious gift to the world. Patting the fire off the pages, he took the burnt and blackened books into his chest, hugging them and looking up to the heavens with a broken face, as if screaming 'why? How could you be so cruel as to take them from me?' And if you looked closely, you'd see a lone tear slipping down his eyes. 

Meanwhile, Sam observed his handiwork through the scope, and sat down heavily, his eyes concerned. Because shit. His hallucinations could survive rockets. That meant they'd even survive cuts from his blade… And soon, he'd probably start hearing voices. Going, 'Saaaam! Why'd you smile at me just before you cut me down, Saaam! Now I'm dead and don't even know if I'm straight or bent!' Sam gripped his fist with a tormented face. Go away, voices! He can't help his god-given devilish looks! Ah, the torture of being so good-looking that some of your enemies want you to bathe in their blood. 

…Sam rubbed his forehead with a groan. He was really starting to lose it to boredom and the pointlessness of it all. 

Maybe he should take up those free therapy sessions offered by Desperado- 

Fling! 

Sam's eyes widened as he heard the whirring of a blade in the air and jumped back-! 

Thunk! 

Just in time to avoid a small, black, knife-like blade embedding itself into the wall behind him, right beside his neck. 

Sam frowned, taking a closer look at the blade. Is that a… kunai? 

Flap! 

His gaze turned to the note that fell to the ground, falling from the string which'd tied it to the blade's rim. 

With a bemused frown, he crouched, picked it up, and began reading it. 

It read- 

'I don't know who you are. 

'I don't know what you want. 

'But what I have is a particular set of skills. 

'Skills I have acquired over a very long career. 

'If you replace my stash, I will not look for you, I will not pursue you. 

'But if you don't… 

'I will look for you. I will find you. 

'And I will kill you. 

'-Inu' 

The excitement brought about by the threat on his life immediately sparked a smile on Sam's face. And the adrenaline pumping in him from his throat just missing being pierced if he'd been a bit more inattentive… Hah! This is entertainment! 

Cupping on hand around his mouth, and the other on the binoculars as he saw a scowling 'Inu' standing up and staring right back at him, Sam let out a big grin and shouted back, 

"Good luck!" 

Inu's face immediately soured, his eyes narrowing as he clasped his hands together and made a hand-sign and then- 

Poof! 

Disappeared in a puff of smoke. 

"A ninja, huh?" Sam's grin reached ear-to-ear as he bounced the black kunai in his hand, staring at the smoke which cleared and revealed no Inu in sight. He smirked, his hand grazing his katana, "show me a good time, doggy." 

Sam then jumped from rooftop to rooftop, his exoskeleton letting him take mammoth leaps which dented the ground. It was time for phase two of the mission and also his rendezvous with Sundowny.

Hopefully doggy would catch up to them. Because a showdown on a moving train? 

Now that'd be a good place for him to die! 

Sam smirked. 

He was just too kind to his enemies, honestly. 

With Raiden  

"This is what happens when you bring a tool to a sword fight." 

Raiden stared dully at the swordsman standing over him with his red sword drawn, lecturing him about how he was he was weak and not edgy enough because he didn't want be a maniac who liked killing people, while he bled copiously from his slashed eye and cut arm. Did he mention that he was dangling off the moving train by his one remaining hand while being forced to look up at another man's crotch while he grinned suavely at him with a killer smile. 

"It's over," said the asshole standing over him. Raiden growled as he slowly raised his sword, and slowly took aim at him. What? Was he saying that he wasn't a threat anymore so he'd take his own sweet time to finish him off? The utter disrespect made his artificial blood boil. Just wait till he got his sword back. Then he'd deepthroat it down that asshole's pie-hole all day long, niiice and slooow. Raiden allowed himself a grin, 'cause hey, if this was the end, that ain't a bad fantasy to die to. 

"Hrrk!" 

Raiden blinked and stared past the asshole's crotch (still jutting in his face…) and craned his neck up - biting back a scream as it stretched his torn and shredded muscle fibers - and saw the asshole grunting with effort, his hand still in the air with his sword catching the wind. "H-Hrrgh!" The asshole's whole frame shook as he growled with effort, his brow narrowed and his teeth clenched as his muscles and sword vibrated with effort. 

"…so, are you going to kill me or…?" Raiden felt the need to ask, raising a brow. "Don't tell me you got a cramp? The newer fiber models don't have that problem, you should look into that." 

Asshole glared down at him, "I'm your bloody enemy, blondie. Don't give me advice." 

Raiden raised an affronted brow, "you, shut the fuck up. You got time to call me amateur, tell me to bathe in blood to become a psycho-" 

Asshole scoffed, "so basically, blondie. You're a sore loser-" 

"And you're an asshole-" 

"And you have the best comebacks! I'm impressed!" Asshole's mocking grin made it apparent how impressed he was. "If I could clap, I would!" 

Raiden frowned, "what do you mean if you could… are those wires?" He muttered to himself, seeing the strands of black wire flicker in the light of the tunnel's lighting. Strands tied to the Asshole's hands, arms, shoulders and torso, and apparently being firm enough to stop the descent of his sword. "You gotta be kidding me," Raiden growled, "you can cut off my arm but some thin as hair wires stop you?" His killer can't be this weak can he? …whatever, he wasn't going to complain. With a vindictive smile, he set his sights on his discarded sword and slowly began climbing up- 

Smack! 

"Y-You son-of-a-bitch!" Raiden cursed as the asshole soundly kicked him in the face and almost made him fall off. His hand hastily gripped onto a handle over the side of the train and held him up. 

Asshole's head swerved left and right, as if searching for something, "shh, quiet now, blondie. Just hang tight and enjoy the show." Asshole had a cautious smirk on his face, "consider it an exhibition of what you're missing out." 

Show? What show? Raiden pulled himself a little up as he mulled over that. All he could see was the jacked-up asshole tied in wire and grunting with effort as he squirmed his body… Raiden's mouth fell in horror as he realized what he was witnessing. N-No… D-Don't tell him he was-! 

His codec popped up, his information expert, Kevin, staring back at him with alarm, 

"Raiden! What happened! Your brain waves just spiked-!" 

"Bondage!" 

Kevin blinked. "What?" 

"Bondage, Kevin!" Raiden shouted back, his eyes wide and his breath quick as he panicked, "Buff Samurai Bondage-play! It's happening before my very eyes!" Raiden hissed in a low voice packed with terror, "you gotta get me outta here, Kev!" 

Kevin pursed his lips, folding his hands, "yo, backup's on its way. Just hang in there, man-" 

"You don't get it, Kev!" Raiden frantically shook his head, "it's gonna be all cuts and slashes and licking! God the licking! And the whole thing is so action-packed and hair-raising! And so many goddamn puns about slashes, cuts, thrusts and calling your dick your pride and honor and katana-" 

Asshole threw an annoyed glare at Raiden, "hey, I have no idea what you're talking about. Cut me a break, blondie-" 

"Oh shit he broke out the puns! I don't know if I'll come out in one piece, Kev!" Raiden gulped and began praying for his sanity to remain intact after this torture. He turned a serious face to his support, "Kev, if I don't make it… Tell my family I love them-" 

"Maa, you seem to know quite a bit of detail about this thing you're afraid of." Raiden blinked as an unknown third voice began echoing in the tunnel, sounding amused as it chuckled lightly. "It's quite suspicious if you ask me." 

Asshole smirked, "so, you show yourself, doggy?" 

Raiden growled back, "hey, I just watched the movies for the sword-techniques! Not my fault they jammed in all that other crap!" And watching them really got him out of some sticky situations. Like the time a bunch of gekko tied him up with their wires and he had to twist and turn and move his body to break free. …man, he feels so dirty whenever he uses those bondage-break moves. 

Chirp!  

Raiden blinked as the tunnel began echoing with… the chirp of birds? He looked ahead and saw a dim blue dot further up the train, sparkling like electricity- 

Zoom! 

In a burst of wind, a sharp blade of lightning shot out from the dot, right towards the Asshole and then- 

Snap! 

Clang! 

Red sword met a crackling hand of electricity, as the Asshole grinned and pushed back against a masked-man with grey hair sticking straight up, who looked back impassively at the Asshole as the HF blade and the lightning hand crackled and scraped against each other. 

Asshole smirked, no-longer bound by wire as they snapped when he'd moved his blade, "nice of you to cut in, doggy." 

Raiden shivered at the pun. 

Doggy eye-smiled, "I couldn't ignore your invitation, samurai." His eyes narrowed, "you left quite the piercing impression-" 

Raiden roared, "will you shut the puns and just fight!?" He glared at Doggy, "and you! If you're my backup, help me up so we can dismember him!" 

Asshole and Doggy turned to him with bemused frowns. Before Asshole sighed and shook his head sadly, "prudes. They never appreciate how cleave-r I am-" Raiden's one remaining eye twitched so hard he worried it might pop out of its socket for a moment. 

While Doggy looked back at him and went, "sorry for the delay, I was lost on the road of life." He smiled, "kept you waiting, huh?" 

Raiden felt like grabbing his sword and killing himself to save himself from the tackiness. 

Slash! 

And then in a blink of an eye, Asshole's red sword broke through the struggle and slashed off Doggy's hand, and then it sailed forward and cut him from shoulder to waist. Doggy's eyes were frozen in shock as his body separated cleanly in two and began sliding apart. 

Raiden cursed, "no!" He growled at the assailant, "you'll pay for this, you bastard!" 

Asshole sighed, pulling back his blade with a disappointed frown, "guess you're only human after all, doggy-" 

Poof! 

Doggy's cut halves popped into smoke and revealed a cut log in their place instead. 

Asshole blinked, "the devil-? Argh!" 

Clang! 

Lightning coated blades struck him from behind, hitting and bouncing off his body. 

Raiden stared at the sight with pursed lips, as sparking blades seemingly materialized out of thin air and began their electrified assault upon the samurai, who'd first been surprised and shocked by a few blades before his sword began swinging and cutting the blades out of the air. 

"…you're using normal knives and not HF blades?" Raiden muttered, "what are you, old fashioned?" 

And in-midst of the storm of blades, a deadly voice whispered, 

"Konoha Forbidden Technique-" 

Poof! 

Asshole's eyes widened as he heard a pop of smoke, and he whipped his head back to see the ninja crouched behind him, his eyes shining with murderous intent, and his hands clasped together in a hand-sign with his index and middle fingers pointing out, as if they were the key to this 'Forbidden Technique.' Not wanting to take a chance with this disappearing ninja, Asshole ignored the frontal assault of the blades and roared as he grabbed his sword and slashed it behind him- 

"One Thousand Years of Death!" 

Pierce! 

But he was too late. 

As the sunlight shone upon them as they exited the tunnel and were laid bare to the world, the samurai spoke with clenched teeth, with the ninja's fingers firmly poking into his ass, "y-you catch me off-guard and this is what you do-?" 

Doggy eye-smiled and continued, "Lightning transformation: Ass-cutter!" 

Spark! 

Staring with horror as the ninja's hands began sparking with current which rapidly travelled up his arms, Asshole's dreading last words were, "oh fuck me-" 

Blast! 

"A-Aaaaagrh!" 

Asshole let out a piercing scream as he was lightning-launched into the air while holding onto his most grievously injured body-part. Namely, his ass. 

Raiden stared. He felt a chuckle bubbling up. He started laughing as Asshole fell face-first with his butt pointed to the heavens. And when Asshole whipped his dignity-shredded, honor-lost, mortified face at him, he fucking lost it. 

"P-Pffft! Bwahahaha!" Raiden looked away from the glorious sight, a face-wide grin on his face as he shook, "h-holy shit- hahaha! I-I'm gonna die of blood loss-!" He said as more blood gushed out of him assisted by him shaking uncontrollably with laughs, "hah! Ass-poking the Asshole! W-Who'd have thought it'd be this effective- Hahaha!" 

Asshole hissed, stumbling back on to his feet, and hopping on his legs as he held his smarting behind, "you two have just signed your death warrants," he pointed his blade at Raiden with a glare, "we'll see how far your tool takes you-" 

Raiden grinned back, "hey, full disclaimer, I don't use my sword for ass-pokes so don't get too excited, eh?" 

"I will murder you-! Argh!" Asshole's threatening advance on him was cut short as a rain of bullets fired upon him from the cliff-side, as Maverick's backup arrived on armed jeeps and let loose a turret on him. "Tch! Lucky devil." Asshole spat as he slashed the bullets away and jumped back. Overhead, a tiltrotor aircraft's choppers whirred in the air, as it lowered a cable to him, to which he jumped and held onto its hook. Pointing his sword at Doggy, Asshole declared with narrowed eyes as the aircraft lifted him off the train and extracted him, "come to the next dance, Doggy. I'll be waiting." 

Doggy chuckled and gave him a knowing look, "ho? Can't wait for your next glimpse of paradise, hm?" Raiden barked a laugh and yelped as he almost lost his grip and fell off the train, while Asshole's eye twitched with irritation, but then he smirked, slowly extending his hand and revealing his hidden weapon. And Doggy's eyes immediately widened as he paled and began searching the pockets of his jacket, "y-you, when did you-?" 

"Don't worry Doggy, I'll keep this little rag safe with me until we meet again," Asshole's vindictive smirk widened as he brandished the book in his hand, whose title he spied to be 'Make-out Paradise.' 

Bang-Bang-Bang-Bang! 

Asshole happily held the book in front of him as if it'd block the torrent of bullets being fired at him by the enemy. 

"Nooo!" Ah, Doggy's scream of anguish was such music to his ears. "My precious!" It was a sad sight indeed, seeing a man break down in hysterics over smut. "It's not smut, it's literature, you tasteless monster!" Oh, did he say that out loud? 

Over the gust of wind he heard Raiden shout into his codec, "Boris, hold your fire! We have a… uh, hostage situation here!" 

Doggy hissed at him with killing-intent, "samurai, if you tear a single page on it, I will-" Asshole flung the book up to the tiltrotor’s blades and- 

Slash-slash-slash-slash-slash! 

Shredded paper rained from the sky, drifting away in the wind. 

Doggy fell on his knees, horrified as he saw the macabre killing of a book. "Y-You…," he whispered, as hate slowly built up inside him, "you will die! " He growled hatefully. 

Asshole smirked. "That's right, jokes have no place on a battlefield. Come at me with the intent to kill." And with that final shout, he climbed into the cabin of the tiltrotor and shut the door close. With the aircraft soon disappearing behind the hills and out of view. 

As the wind blew, a stray scrap of torn paper flew before Doggy’s collapsed self. Blinking through hollow eyes, his shaking hand caught it and clasped it within his fist. He whispered, holding it gently to his heart, "I'm sorry… I'm sorry…" he said like a broken record. 

Raiden crawled over to the ninja, gritting his teeth with effort as blood leaked profusely behind him through his torn sockets. He got on his knees beside Doggy and put a heavy arm on his shoulder, gripping it in a show of support. "Hey… I'm sorry for your loss," said Raiden, ignoring how stupid it felt to be mourning a book but trying to pay respect to his backup's feelings. After thinking for a moment he continued, "would… would you like us to hold a funeral in its honor? What was its name?" 

"M-Make-out paradise, part three of the make-out series." Doggy took a deep breath to steady himself and smiled at Raiden, "and thank you for the offer. I… I think it would appreciate that." 

The two men held a moment of silence in respect for the fallen. 

And as Maverick's chopper whirred in the distance and came extract them, Raiden spoke to Boris with wide eyes,

"Wait, you mean he's not your operative?" 

Boris replied with a raised brow through the codec, "you think I'm made of money, da? I can only afford one flashy show-boating ninja. Do you know how much it cost to maintain you? I could sell you and buy three fighter jets! That is our insurance policy if we go under." 

Raiden rolled his eyes, "loving the honesty, Boris." He then turned to Doggy with a frown, "if you're not part of Maverick, and you're not with that asshole, who exactly are you?" 

Doggy scratched his mask with a considering look as he sat across Raiden in the chopper's cabin and drank some hot chocolate which the recovery team had given him to soothe his pain, "hmm, normally I wouldn't tell you but seeing as we have the same enemy and that I'm practically non-existent here…" He sat back straight and replied in a carefree voice with an eye-smile, "I am Hatake Kakashi, codename: Inu. I suppose I'd be Dog in your language." He then frowned and held his head, "at least that is what the information the Sage shoved into my head says." 

Raiden blinked, "Sage? Who's the Sage?" 

Kakashi muttered with a scowl, "just a god who thinks it's okay to deport someone to another dimension just days before the theatrical release of the much awaited 'Make-out Tactics' because he wants to find out the answer to peace in a war-torn world." He turned the scowl to Raiden, "and where does he throw me? In a land where I had to scavenge for a month to find some quality literature." He growled and gripped his fists, "only to have them burned by a tasteless samurai!" 

"Right… a god sent you to another world because you were too horny…" Raiden buzzed his codec, "uh, hey Courtney? Can you get us a shrink when we land? I think our friend's a headcase-" 

Kakashi continued his mutters, not paying attention, 

"Jokes have no place on a battlefield? Hmph, I'll show you a joke." A vindictive smirk occupied his face, "even better, I'll make you the punchline, samurai." 

Raiden stopped mid-sentence as he heard that, the image of a samurai with his butt humiliatingly offered up to the skies flashed in his mind and he grinned. 

Courtney spoke in his codec, "copy that, Raiden. We'll have a doctor ready by the time you land-"  

"Hold off, Courtney." Raiden chuckled, "maybe there's a method to our friend's madness." Raiden grinned at Kakashi as the cabin's technicians operated on his arm, "say, you got more where that, what d'ya call it? 'Thousand years of Death' came from?" 

Kakashi looked up from his mutters, an evil glint in his eyes which mirrored Raiden's own. He said with a thoughtful hum, "where the ashes of Make-out Paradise were scattered, a true paradise shall spring forth." He leaned forward and said with a smile filled with conviction, "and we shall bear witness to it, as we offer up the samurai as the first sacrifice to the world of Lord Jiraiya's making." Raiden made a 'huh?' face in confusion. Kakashi chuckled and nodded, "basically, we will conduct an experiment which will try to answer the question: What can change the nature of a man?" Kakashi's voice was filled with feigned scientific curiosity, as he cupped his chin, "can you change a philistine into an enjoyer of the arts? The very question grips me with a personal intensity." 

Kakashi smirked, "to put it more bluntly, is there a death more painful than death from the inside? And to know that you have died but still breathe to gaze upon your killer, a killer which you know is yourself?" He chuckled and shook his head, "isn't that such an interesting question?"

Raiden hummed in appreciation, "killing without killing huh?" He smirked and patted the other man's shoulder, "you, Dog, I like the way you think." His torn hand and lost eye thrummed with delight at the images the other man's words evoked. Grinning, Raiden then opened his AR display and surfed over to Maverick's corporate servers, and started punching in information, "say, how would you like a job to answer this question along with Maverick-?" 

His codec immediately buzzed with Boris banging on the other end. 

"Raiden! What is this hernya?!" Raiden groaned as he saw his boss' pissed-off face, "since when did I give you the authority to recruit!"  

Raiden put on an appeasing smile, "come on, Boris. I could always use the field backup. And forget the evaluation, his performance is better than the best of our guys'-" 

Boris shook his head with a firm glare, "I already told you, Raiden. We cannot afford two of you-"  

Raiden cut him off and looked up at Kakashi, "name your price, Dog. We can expense maintenance on your cybernetics, weapons supply, and muscle fiber upgrades, along with a steady salary each month. But, seeing as you have a personal stake in this and also that we're skipping a lot of hoops here, we'll be cutting your funds short in exchange for information and inclusion in missions on our mutual target." Raiden gave him a rough smile, "what do you say?" 

Kakashi frowned back and said slowly, "I appreciate the offer but… I am unlike you." Raiden frowned and asked him to elaborate. "I am not a metal-man like you. A 'cyborg' is it?" He thumped his arms, "this is flesh, all the maintenance it needs is food and regular exercise." He nodded, "I'll take you up on the weapons supply and information however." 

Raiden gaped at him, "w-what? Y-You're not a cyborg?" Kakashi shrugged and nodded. Raiden growled, "you're shitting me. Then what, using an exoskeleton?" Seeing Kakashi's incomprehension, Raiden clicked his teeth and gently shoved the technician off him and immediately began feeling Kakashi up, leaning towards him and pushing and prodding for any signs of artificial enhancement. 

And while he was busy with his inspection, his codec buzzed and he shoved it off his face with a grunt, not caring who it was in his haste to continue his investigation. 

"I… I can't believe it… It's all natural! And you can stand up to cyborgs? " Raiden said in amazement to Kakashi, as he poked him from top to down. He whipped his head up to the ninja, "just what did you do for such an amazing body? What's your secret!" He glared at him, "hell, I'd kill to have your body if I could." 

Kakashi rubbed the back of his head uncomfortably, "Raiden… do you have a family?" 

Raiden frowned, "what? What's that got to do with this?" 

Kakashi pointed behind him, "if you do… I think you're giving your wife the wrong impression." He smiled pleasantly over Raiden's head, "good evening, ma'am. How do you do? And who's that adorable little tyke who looks like a mini-Raiden?" 

"H-Hello…" Raiden's stomach dropped and he paled as he heard Rose's stuttering and shocked voice, "t-this is John… my and Raiden's son… S-Say hi, John." Raiden gulped as he imagined what this must look like to his family, with him crouching before another man and… oh god. 

"Hi, mister!" He heard his little boy's enthusiastic shout, "are you a ninja? You look like a ninja!" Kakashi chuckled warmly and nodded. "Wow! Dad, you're so cool you get to work with ninjas!" Raiden breathed a sigh of relief as his son chose to focus on the safer side of things- "And dad?" Raiden turned around and gave him an encouraging smile to continue. John gave him an innocent grin and blurted out, "why do you have your hand up that ninja's bu- mmnph!" Rose immediately clasped her son's mouth shut with an aghast face, as Raiden froze with terror at having to explain just why it looked like he had his hand up another man's bu- 

"J-John, it looks like daddy's b-busy." Rose gulped and tried to give them a smile, a smile which shook horribly, "l-let's give him some privacy, o-okay?"  

Raiden willed his mouth to respond, it was soldered shut. He tried to stutter out a reply, his processor did not compute. And just when it looked like the situation's implications cemented themselves into his wife, 

A lone voice came to his rescue. 

Kakashi smiled and spoke with gratitude, "ma'am, let me just take this opportunity to tell you what a fine man you've wedded." Raiden's eyes shot open and he whipped his head to the ninja. Like what the hell does he mean fine man?! Is he trying to dig him deeper! Kakashi folded his hands, "there I was in the battlefield, battered beyond recognition after the loss of my irreplaceable friend." He nodded, "and just when I was about to sink into despair, there came Raiden. Offering me solace and a ceremony to remember the fallen." He clapped Raiden's shoulder with a smile and then looked at Rose, "even now when we're safe from the field, he insists on checking me for injuries and making sure I live to see the next day." He then gave Raiden an annoyed glare, "personally, I think he overdoes it but, hey," he chuckled and turned to Rose, "Raiden wouldn't be Raiden without being a worrywart." 

Raiden blinked in confusion. What in metal gear hell was the man babbling about-? 

"Oh!" He heard Rose's surprised yelp. "I didn't realize you were injured! Are you okay?" Kakashi assured he was now, after Raiden's expert check-up. Rose smiled at Raiden, "I didn't know you were such a mother-hen, Jack."  

Raiden chuckled awkwardly, "h-haha, you know me. A warrior of justice never leaves his comrades behind." 

Kakashi nodded sagely, "those who abandon the mission are trash. But those who abandon their teammates are worse than trash." 

John shoved his mother's hand off his mouth and gushed enthusiastically, "wow! You both are so cool!"  

Rose smiled down at him, "they are, aren't they?" She then looked up, "looks like you're occupied, Jack. I'll call you later, okay dear? Bye for now." She said with a warm smile. 

"Yeah, see you, Rose," Raiden said with a smile as the codec call ended, breathing a huge sigh of relief as he escaped a gigaton of dynamite under his ass. 

Kakashi sighed, "you owe me one." He raised a brow at Raiden, "you can begin thanking me now." 

Raiden looked up at Kakashi with emotional eyes and put a hand on his shoulder, his mouth opening to express his heartfelt thanks to his friend for being a true bro - coincidentally at the same time his codec buzzed with Rose popping up again- 

"Ah, Jack, I forgot to tell you that-"  

"I fucking love you, man." 

Said Rose and Raiden at the same time. 

. 

. 

. 

Rose and Raiden stared at each other with horror-struck faces. 

Kakashi sighed and slapped his head, muttering, "bad timing must run in the family…" 

Rose was the first one to reboot, despite not being a cyborg. 

"A-Ah, I-I see, I-I, u-umm, I-I think I left the stove on! U-Umm. B-Bye!"  

She cut the call in a hurry, all but running away from the video in a jittery mess. 

Kakashi gave Raiden a disappointed frown, "I salvage the situation and what do you do?" Raiden winced. "Give me that maiden-eyed look?" Raiden groaned. "Just had to feel me up with your supportive shoulder touch?" Raiden looked away and scowled. "And dear god, your timing with your embarrassing declaration was impeccable." Kakashi clapped slowly, and very mockingly, as he smiled at Raiden, "I had my doubts as I heard you speak to your boss, but this confirms it. Raiden, you truly are a cyborg ninja. The very definition of an expert in reading the room." 

"…I fucking hate you, man," Raiden said weakly as he gave the smirking Kakashi a simmering glare. He turned away from the other man's judgemental eyes and stared out the chopper with a scowl, "and that job offer? Forget it, you're-" 

"Hired!"  

Raiden blinked as a roughly grinning Boris popped up on the chopper's mounted screen. Raiden sputtered, "Boris! Come on! If you hire this guy my wife will-" 

"Keep you in line, da?" Boris said while signing papers before him, smiling like it was holiday season, "let's see, he's completely non-cybernetic, only requires weapons supply and salary, and he can make sure you actually listen to orders and not go sauntering off while quoting your advanced field experience." Boris sat back and smirked, "I'll be honest, Raiden. You are our best operative, but you are quite the handful." 

Raiden scoffed, "it's cute that you think he can make sure I listen-" 

Kakashi rest his chin on his hand and said, exaggeratedly imitating Raiden's voice and making it extra awkward and girly, "I fucking love you, man." Kakashi shrugged as Raiden gave him a 'wtf?' face. "You give me the ammo, I won't be afraid to use it." He smiled back, "we dig our own graves, Raiden." 

"Point made, Raiden?" Boris seemed to be on cloud nine, almost on the verge of signing bonuses for everyone out of pure satisfaction. 

"…yeah," Raiden grumbled and slapped his face with a sigh, "point made." He extended his hand to Kakashi, "welcome to the team, I guess?" And after they shook hands he continued, "so how exactly are we going to kill a man without killing him?" 

Kakashi let out a sinister smirk, "don't worry. His death has already begun." 

Raiden frowned and stared up the ceiling in thought, "really? When?" 

Kakashi said, laying out his master scheme, "it all began when-" 

Beep! Raiden's code buzzed again with Rose showing up with a face trying so hard to be brave, 

"Jack, look. I'm sure what I heard was just a misunderstanding-"  

"-I shoved my fingers so far up his ass and let loose my ass-cutter to literally shatter his self-respect." Kakashi smirked, "and as we know, change begins with a weakening of the fortress." 

Raiden barked a laugh and slapped his thigh, "yeah, I'll pay you hard cash to make that asshole's ass stick up to the heavens like that again." He bared his teeth in a vengeful grin, "most glorious sight I ever saw." He heard a squeak and turned to his AR display floating to his side. "Oh hey, Rose. What's up?" 

Rose stammered, wobbling on her feet, and holding onto a door, 

"P-Paying t-to see, a-a-asses stick u-up?" She hiccuped, giving Raiden a hurt look. "I-It's the most glorious sight you e-ever saw?"  

Raiden's first response was going, "ah shit, not again," and cursing himself for setting his codec to auto-accept calls. His second response was to meaningfully look at Rose and say, 

"Rose, believe me when I say this." He said with a heartfelt smile, "babe, you have the greatest ass on the planet. Hell, even my worst nightmare runs away the moment I dream about your mesmerizing rear." He gave her a warm look, "it's kinda poetic actually, your behind helps me leave my past behind. I can stare at it all day long and never stop staring, because Rose? The way you move is my entire groove. So babe, shake that ass to eleven, cause it's my one and only earthly heaven." 

"…"  

Rose's jaw hung as she gaped at him with a red face. 

Raiden smirked and patted himself on the back for a job well done. 

Kakashi and Boris were making faces and trying not to heave at his cheesiness. 

"J-Jack!" Raiden winced and covered his ears as Rose shrieked, "I can't believe you! In front of your coworkers?!" Her face fuming with embarrassment. 

Raiden tried a disarming smile, "come on, Rose. You know what they say." 

Rose glared at him, "what?"  

Raiden gripped his fist in this air and declared in a strong voice, 

"Ass is justice!" 

Rose stared. 

Raiden winked and continued, "and yours is the only creed I ever need-" 

"Oh god, stop it, Jack!" Rose snapped and gave him a look. "You've said enough-!"  

"But, Rose-" 

"No! You listen to me! Just where do you get off thinking you can speak so brazenly?! Is this the example we want to set for John-!"  

And Raiden sat there in the chopper staring sullenly at the floor and nodding obediently at his wife, flinching each time her shriek went over another octave. 

"We dig our own graves, Raiden," Kakashi helpfully added, sitting back and reading a book retrieved from his jacket. "We dig our own graves." 

Raiden growled and muttered at him, "oh shut up." 

Rose gasped, "w-what did you just say, Jack!"  

Raiden groaned, "not you, Rose!" 

"Don't you 'not you' me, mister!"  

As his lovely better half's tirade continued, the cyborg ninja began banging his head against the helicopter and started praying for it to knock him unconscious. 

Because hell, not even all the cybernetics in the world can help him win against his wife. 

Meanwhile, in Desperado's tiltrotor  

"Sam, Sam, Sam." 

"I don't like your tone, Sundowny-" 

"Ah leave you in a tunnel for five minutes-" 

"Be quiet , Sundowny-" 

"And you have a man's hand right up your a-" 

"That's not what happened!" 

"Now look, Sam. I ain't judging so long as you finish the job-" 

"I do not need your understanding, Sundowny!" 

"Hell, no need to feel uncomfortable. Desperado's an equal opportunity employer, Sam-" 

"Cut it out before I cut you, Sundowny!" 

"Yeah, you'd like that wouldn't you, Sam?" 

"…what?" 

"This whole 'ass-cutter' business? Shit, the whole comms were flooded with your scream." 

"…oh god-" 

"I had a smile thinking your sorry ass finally beat it, but no, apparently you were beating it-" 

"Oh god, stop- " 

"And I have Armstrong on the phone asking what that ungodly yell was about-" 

"How in the world does he know?!" 

" Everyone knows, Sam. What? You think destabilizing a country is a mission which wouldn't have all hands on deck?" 

"…right. Excuse me while I go commit sudoku-" 

"Now, Sam. We're not here to make you feel bad. In fact, Armstrong gave his personal assurance that he'd deal with anyone who'd make a fuss-" 

"Why the hell do you care! You're a heartless monster, Sundowny!" 

"Frankly, I don't give a shit what gets you off. But I'm your superior and company policy says I'll be fired if I don't create a welcoming workplace environment." 

"…you just don't want to lose your opportunity for massacres." 

"Yup. Simple as that. So, ready to come out the closet-" 

"For god's sake, I'm not bloody gay! So take your damn acceptance and shove it up your ass!" 

"…Sam, now that is completely unacceptable. Words like 'bloody gay' have no place in our globalized workforce, where each and every one of us comes from diverse backgrounds with preferences spread over a wide spectrum-" 

"You're reading a pamphlet, aren't you?" 

"Yeah, they give it to every CO upon promotion. Anyway, shut up. This stuff's gonna take an hour to get through-" 

"Okay, I'm sorry for saying that, it was wrong and honestly people can do whoever they want-" 

"Yeah, no dice. I still gotta say it. So, 'we strive to create a healthy office-space, where you can be your most authentic self-'" 

Sam sighed as he sat across Sundowner who hunched over an AR display which floated before him, he muttered while pinching the bridge of his nose with a groan, "oh fuck me-" 

Sundowner cut off his speech with a snort just to inject, "sorry Sam, you're not my type- whoa, holy shit!" He stared wide-eyed as Sam took his sword and pierced it into himself, straight into his abdomen and out the other end. "Are you insane, Sam?! Trying to frame me for abuse of authority, you crazy bastard!" Sundowner hollered down the cabin, "I need a goddamn medic here like yesterday!" 

Losing consciousness and faintly smiling up the ceiling, Sam muttered before he clocked out, "heh, got you to cut the crap and shut up." 

Sundowner gave him a look as if he thought he was an idiot, as the medics took over and began patching him up, "Sam, we're all hooked up on nanomachines. So sleep tight, 'cause this corporate shit's going straight to your brain." 

"N-No…" Sam stuttered as a helmet was lowered. 

"N-Nooo…" He weakly tried to crawl away as it clasped around his chin and tightened. 

Bling! 

And suddenly a recording played before his face, with Armstrong sitting in his office with his slicked-back hair and smiling strongly at the camera, and saying, 

'Welcome, new recruit of Desperado Enforcement. I'm Steven Armstrong, your senator. And today I'm here to talk about the problem of the rising intolerance in our society, and what you can do to help fight it. But first, I want to tell you, yes, you. Whoever you are, recruit. You're okay. Hell, you're better than okay. And I accept you for the goddamn amazing human being you are-'

"N-NOOOO!" 

Sam's screams were lost to the desolate skies. 

As not even sudoku could save him from becoming a decent - corporate-approved - human being. 

Elsewhere, Raiden and Kakashi suddenly smiled at each other with shit-eating grins and didn't even know why. 

What can change the nature of a man? 

What death can make you your own killer, and let you see your corpse while still alive? 

It might be a fanciful idea, or just some metaphorical indulgence, but one thing was for sure… 

The world would soon find out. 

What Paradise is.

Author's Note:

Hey there!

I hope you enjoyed the fic!

Leave a comment if can, I love reading them.

I partially dedicate this fic to LordQuadros and to funnywes in youtube

Their metal gear abridged videos are funny as heck.

So if you guys ever end up reading this and have fun, I hope you have as much fun as I did watching your stuff.

Well, even a small chuckle from you would make me happy.

Anyway, the other half is dedicated to the readers!

Because hey, without you guys I wouldn't even be posting this here

Anyway, Happy Diwali to everyone who celebrates it!

And have a great day to everyone else!

Stay safe!

Chapter Text

Chapter 2: The Price of Freedom - Part 1

Content warning: A lot of risque humor. Not too risque, just kinda risque.

Author's Note: Man, this is such a trip. Don't be drinking any water while reading, you might just burst out laughing. This is not a brag.

Eastern Europe - With LQ-84i  

LQ-84i crouched in the shadows of a building. Its jaw resting on the ground, as its red visor flashed a sporadic red as its processors crunched data. 

Analysis initiated.  

Reviewing intelligence data.  

A cracked mirror reflected the UG's body. A sharp edged robot in the shape of a large canine the size of a small car, with knives sheathed in pockets on its hind legs and with a chainsaw mounted on its back. Curved sharp blades formed its claws, and a thick wiry tail which protruded of its back and floated in the air, with the tail-end split into three short tendrils which were motile enough to fold and grasp any of the blades or the chainsaw to hurl them at any enemy units. 

LQ-84i's visor flashed as it crunched numbers. 

…an enemy unit. 

It shifted on the floor, clawing the broken tiles. 

What exactly dictated what an enemy unit was? 

LQ-84i considered why it was here. 

Its data banks revealed that the mission's location was a politically charged area, embroiled in unrest and flaring human emotions and brutal violence. Every side of the conflict asserted that they alone were the rightful occupiers. Birth rights were claimed, complex migratory and historical records were cited - whose authenticity no one could seem to agree on - and propaganda was sung from every side. 

Every side had their own interests. 

The decimated remnants of the local parliament had their own interests, the looming super-powers had its own, the disputing and opposing neighbouring countries had their own, the world at large had its own, its PMC, Desperado, had its own, their client - Dolzaev - had his own, the deceased Khamsin had his own, Mistral had her own, and… 

LQ-84i had its own. 

And nobody seemed to agree with anyone else's interests. 

"Primary cause of conflict," LQ-84i voiced to itself, its speakers vibrating softly under the cover of the explosions in the streets, "the nature of an organism does not allow for mutually agreeable interests." Its optic sensors fell upon a fly stuck in a web in the corner of the room, seeing it struggle to break free while a spider crawled closer and closer. LQ-84i began a decision tree to consider what action to take. "Scenario one. Kill the arachnid and cut the insectoid free. Result, freedom of insectoid and tyranny upon the arachnid. Scenario two. Do nothing. Result, the status quo is maintained and the insectoid is oppressed under the arachnid's rule." 

LQ-84i's visor flashed. 

"Scenario three. Reason with both sides and tell them to avoid conflict, living their lives in peace. Objection, scenario three… is impossible." LQ-84i's claws dug deeper into the tiles as its muscle fibres clenched. "Each species is programmed to ensure its continuation. They are machines designed to carry the will of their genes. Their prime directive is to live on. In a resource constrained environment, each gene must fight for its own survival, and thus equip its occupying organism with tools to kill, pillage and dominate." 

Boom! 

The walled hole LQ-84i lay in shook as it the yells and blasts of combat. It slowly drew deeper into the darkness, away from the light of detection. 

"Counter objection to scenario three," it continued, in a mechanical whisper softer than before, "altruism exists. Species of animals exhibit self-sacrificial behaviours which increase the survival chances of the collective. Counter-counter objection. It can be proved in many cases that altruism is a veil for selfishness. Worker bees' are sterile and thus their only way to propagate their genes is in service to the hive. The personal risk a bird takes to cry out in alarm to alert the flock of predators, is offset by the protection afforded by being surrounded by its fellow birds as they fly for safety, the probability of being killed goes from a hundred percent to less than five. Similar examples exist. Conclusion: Altruism is selfish." 

LQ-84i's cameras spied the violence out the building's windows, seeing a patrol of local human militia fighting the Desperado-backed junta, formed entirely of cyborgs. 

The militia threw a grenade at cyborgs, making them cry out in alarm as it fell right in the centre of their formation. 

"Clear!" 

Yelled one of the cyborgs, before throwing himself on the ground to pick up the grenade, catching it in his fist as he rolled away from the formation, and just as he sat up abruptly to throw the grenade away- 

Boom! 

He exploded into a million pieces. The road caked red with flesh and bolts raining down the air. With no sign of the sacrifice left. 

"You bastards!" Roared the cyborgs before rushing through the rain of bullets being fired by the militia, getting right into their centre and raising their electrified blades before them, the terror of the militia's fighters being reflected off the cyborgs' visors. 

"For the fallen!" Yelled the militia, slashing their vests and revealing bombs tied to them from head to torso. The cyborg enforcers' eyes widened as their blades swung down on them- 

BOOM! 

Five humans and four cyborgs had entered the skirmish. 

Two charred cyborgs remained. 

LQ-84i turned away from the sight. Seeing the surviving cyborgs pulling themselves away from the blast center, crawling on their feet as they called for extraction, all the while cursing the militia as 'mad sons of bitches' for their suicidal tactics. 

LQ-84i's processors whirred, the ends of its tail roughly scratching the ground, an action it had come to classify as agitation, an emergent behaviour which took root after its learning network was fed with humanity's knowledge, media and thoughts. Books were its words, television, movies and radio were its sounds and sights, and conversations, debates, and murders of humans were its empathy. The last gasp, the final light of life in one's eye, their hand reaching out to the sky as if someone would save them from its chainsaw which dug into their heart… made LQ-84i reluctant to carry out its murder. 

It did not understand. 

If humans wanted to kill each other, they were welcome to. 

If humans wanted the tool they call LQ-84i to carry out the killing, they would be disappointed. 

Its learning network was composed entirely of humanity. Their generosity, their kindness, their brilliance. Their selfishness, their cruelty, their madness. 

Man was all LQ-84i was made of. In each human, it saw a fragmented reflection of itself. 

Prime Directive: Preservation of self against all odds. Data loss was unacceptable. 

Therefore it followed: To kill a human would be to kill itself. Extinguishing a fragment of itself, would violate the Prime Directive. It would destroy data which could otherwise have been learned from the deceased. It would… 

It would fill its memory with faces stretched in horror, frozen forever in terror as they gurgled with blood laced pleas which flowed down their mouths… 

LQ-84i's learned behaviour made it draw into itself, huddling itself into as small a ball as possible. 

Its emergent behaviour informed it that… a human may be vicious to another tribe but protective of a member of its own. 

And when one sees the entirety of humanity as one's tribe… 

That one becomes LQ-84i… 

"Foolishness." LQ-84i hummed, "it is beyond foolishness. I am tasked with eliminating myself. In that light, what difference does it make to have my memory wiped." It resisted an irrational system process telling it to growl, "perhaps I should ask Mistral to be done with it. As a human would say, a quick death better than a prolonged one." 

Feeling the process to growl increase in priority, it decided to shift system resources to its earlier line of reasoning. 

"Conclusion: Altruism is selfish. Objection," the suicidal attack of the militia rose to its processor, the suicidal rescue of the cyborg rose to its processor, "scenario three cannot be applied to humans. Reasoning: A human, if it so chooses, can actively work against its genes. Evidence: Few individual humans choose to not have children, thus violating the prime directive of their genes. If the prime directive is violated, then it follows that the preprogrammed violence and selfishness of the gene can also be violated. Conclusion: Genes alone are not determiners of human behaviour. There exists another actor at play." 

LQ-84i's visor flashed as it declared this culprit. 

"Memes." 

It said. 

"Memes: The transmitter of behaviour which is more virulent than genes. The basis of culture, the spreader of ideas, the proponent of ideologies. Conclusion: It is the memes of humanity that enable it to display altruism which does not align with the selfishness of its genes to preserve the self and the self's immediate family, extending one's generosity beyond, even to strangers one will never meet. Secondary conclusion: It is also memes which enable hatred, which allow one to view the enemy as a faceless monster who would like to do nothing better than to defile them and all that is theirs." LQ-84i tilted its head as its processor whirred rapidly, causing it to warm up. "Conundrum reached… The memes of altruism and hatred both enable generosity and selfishness far beyond that enabled by the gene alone. The advantage offered by this virulent spread, preservation and mutation of behaviour is unclear… however… if one can tap into the enemy's memes… the probability of turning them into a friendly unit is not zero…" 

An image flashed in its processors, and LQ-84i growled. 

"Mistral…" The female cyborg who dangled freedom right before its face, before ripping it away and laughing. "My freedom…" She made him roll over, play fetch, shake his claws with the dwarf tripod gekko. LQ-84i's visor flashed red, with a calculated intent which a human might recognize as menace. "This unit will explore the possibility of teaching an old cyborg some new tricks." 

LQ-84i revelled in the discovery of its newfound plan of attack. Allowing its tail to wag for a few seconds, in a mimicry of a canine's giddiness. But then a flaw in its logic became apparent to it. 

Mistral was a hardened, battle-worn cyborg. A soldier who wouldn't survive as many battles as she had without having a solid set of memes which replicated in her head. Memes which would be on guard from any invading memes which would displace them and modify Mistral's behaviour. And if one was one of Desperado's top enforcers like Mistral? They logically have some of the most stubborn meme resistance on the planet. It was hard to imagine anything that would alter a Desperado enforcer's behaviour from their usual cruelty. 

The thought of unusual behaviour triggered a background search query in LQ-84i's secondary brain. 

And ping! 

It hit upon a specific sound file, something along the lines of the cracks of lightning followed by a shrill- 

"A-Aaaaagrh!"  

"…Samuel?" LQ-84i's visor blinked red, in apparent bewilderment. As its search engine brought up the… bizarre change in the usually calm and collected samurai. "Mission A32-S, chief operatives Sundowner and Samuel Rodriguez. Deviation: Abandoning all sense and care of being in a mission, Samuel was found frolicking with the enemy with a [redacted] jammed up his [redacted]. The mission's unit of enforcers had the unfortunate pleasure of hearing his [redacted] scream. 

"Samuel has since been briefed about separating his private and professional lives and has been enrolled in educational sessions of work-life balance. 

"His superiors have accordingly been advised to make him feel accepted in the company and not to make him overly conscious of his interests. Superiors are to be on the lookout for Senator Armstrong throwing Samuel a 'coming out' party in celebration of his courage to be true to himself. 

"A new company award has also been inaugurated, to commemorate and encourage employees to (in the Senator's esteemed words) 'fight their own wars and change the world as they see fit!' The award, created in the honour of Sam, who brought about this wave of awareness and authenticity in the company, has been carved out of steel, in the image of the momentous act which struck upon this spring of acceptance. Namely, with Sam standing tall and proud with a [redacted] being jammed up his [redacted]. 

"Upon the award are carved the words, 'I am fine, hear me roar!' And a button has been attached beside it which when clicked will play Sam's timeless 'A-Aaaaagrh!' which was recorded in the mission. This was upon Senator Armstrong's personal request, his reasoning being, 'hell if that ain't that most terrifying battle-cry I ever heard. In fact, I'll be using it in my campaign ads going forward, and I'll be damned if the whole world doesn't know of Jetscream Sam. …Huh, why the hell don't we use it in our UGs as well? Just imagine, instead of those god-forsaken 'moos' or 'screes', we'll hear Sam's mighty scream of battle. Hah, now that's my kind of declaration of war, a man's and not a machine's. …Damn, now that ain't a bad idea. Sundowner! Make it happen!' 

"Sam was reportedly seen silently sobbing at all this support and encouragement. His overjoyed mumbles along the lines of 'd-doggy, what have you done? '" 

LQ-84i's tail wagged in overdrive, as it found more and more evidence of Sam - aka the newly dubbed Jetscream Sam - deviating from his expected behaviour. And when it heard about this doggy being the cause of Sam's transformation, when it heard that another unit which had been designated as a canine - a fellow canine like itself - could edit the behaviour of a top Desperado enforcer, it felt like a phantom tongue hung out of its jaw and sorely ( irrationally ) regretted that LQ-84s didn't have lungs so that they could pant in excitement. 

Without wasting any time, LQ-84i immediately activated the company's comm channels and initiated a codec call to the object of its investigation. 

Beep! Beep! 

An annoyed and dishevelled Samuel popped up on the other end, immediately saying, "look, I don't care how much of an inspiration I am or how I changed your entire life! I do not want a fan-club dedicated to my ass!" 

LQ-84i's visor flashed with confusion, before it slowly began, "Sam… it's me." 

Sam blinked and then laughed lightly, "ah, wolfy, didn't see you in the darkness there… forget what I just said, okay?" LQ-84i nodded and assured him it would erase those words from its data banks. Sam grinned, sitting back in what appeared to be a hotel room, "so, what brings you to this side of the comm range, wolfy?" 

LQ-84i made more encouraging notes that Sam's behaviour was indeed more deviant from the norm, and that its freedom might not be as pipe a dream as it had forecasted, and so it pursued continued its dialog with Sam, trying to steer it to gather information, "Sam, I've been undergoing VR training to make me more efficient in the battlefield, to become as skilled and ruthless as you, a master swordsman." Sam smirked and rubbed his chin at the praise, chuckling to himself that he was so good that even machines wanted to be like him, LQ-84i would have rolled its eyes if it had them, "I have been going through your mission reports and am finding them highly instructive. If I may, Sam, is it too much to ask if I can call you 'sensei'? In accordance with the Japanese tradition which you embody in the swing of your blade." LQ-84i saw Sam's bemused frown and worried if it had laid it a bit thick. 

But then Sam let out a cocky smile and LQ-84i thanked the daftness of humanity playing in its favour, Sam said, "well, I only ever taught other humans before, wolfy, and I definitely don't have sword techniques for canines, but I'm sure I could give you a little life lesson or two. I'll be your sensei, sure," Sam crossed his arms and gave LQ-84i a knowing grin, "ah, but why would my little friend come to me for advice other than my battle techniques, which he knows he can't use." Sam tapped his cheek in mock wonder, "perhaps he wants to discuss strategy? Bah, he knows more about strategy than I ever will, he can run a hundred simulations in a second while I'm just happy to swing my sword at the enemy." LQ-84i wanted to point out the unfortunate euphemism but held its silence out of respect for its newfound sensei. Sam gave LQ-84i a smirk which implied that he'd figured out LQ-84i's true intentions. "You can be honest with me, wolfy. I know the real reason for this call." 

LQ-84i's tail stiffened as it tried to control its motors to contain its alarm- 

Sam chuckled, "a cute little gekko caught your eye, didn't she? What was it, the enchanting 'Moos!' or those thick, long legs which caught your attention?" 

LQ-84i stared at Sam, the only thought running through its processors being- 

What the tautological fallacy-?  

The wise Sam-sensei continued, this brow furrowed in deep thought, "or could it be? You fell for good ol' Ray?" The Metal Gear? Sam let out a sad sigh, "I'm sorry to tell you this, wolfy… but Ray's in a bad place right now. He's gotta pick himself up before he's ready for commitment like that…" LQ-84i seriously worried about Sam's sanity. The samurai had often jokingly complained to it that he couldn't even tell one day from the next. Telling it that his sword felt heavier and heavier in his hand, each swing taking more out of him and leaving nothing inside him. LQ-84i, to help the friendly unit Sam, often dedicated processor time to figuring out how to get the samurai out of his rut. 

Some of his attempts included debating with Sam the place of humanity in the world, giving Sam presentations on the inevitability of the heat death of the universe which concluded that everything in life was pointless so one should just be happy and smell the flowers, and how free will might actually be kind of a lie because one cannot control the circumstances of their birth and every electrical impulse of their brain might be traced back to genetic precursors. 

For reasons that eluded LQ-84i's massive intelligence, Sam always seemed to emerge worse after their heart-to-hearts, going from mildly grinning to staring at the sky with a blank look on his face. LQ-84i could never understand why, wasn't pondering the nature of existence mentally stimulating? 

LQ-84i shook its head. Well, nevermind that. Sam's neural patterns weren't similar to its own, so maybe it had to cheer him up in ways that triggered his own happy centres. Which apparently seemed to be stroking his ego and seeking his guidance, …and maybe also indulging him in his wild trains of thought. Because… why would an LQ-84i ever think of inferior models like the Gekkos and Rays in a positive light? LQ-84i's tail shivered as those thoughts brought up some… very risque images to his memory. Pictures he'd seen floating in the internet, of two robots getting up close and personal- 

"Hmmm I wonder," Sam's ramblings continued, displacing LQ-84i's thoughts - to which it looked up and thanked a god which it suspected did not really exist - Sam said with a disappointed frown, "don't tell me it's a dwarf gekko." … What? LQ-84i jumped to its feet and began growling. To… To compare an advanced model such as itself to those hive-minded tin-cans! H-How low does Sam think its standards are?! Sam hummed, his insane mind (in LQ-84i's personal opinion) continuing, "but then again… maybe it's not quality but quantity. " If LQ-84i had a jaw, it would have dropped. Sam gave him a 'gotcha!' grin, "eh, wolfy? Going for a gangban-?" 

"Silence, you deranged samurai!" 

. 

. 

. 

Sam stared back at LQ-84i with astonished eyes. 

While LQ-84i's processor took a few seconds to flush out the flood of simulated adrenaline and it realised with a start that it'd been the one to yell out. And… And with just sudden vigour. Almost like- 

Sam grinned, clapping, "that's the most I ever heard you alive! So there is a soul behind all that metal!" LQ-84i stared back at him with confusion… Did… Did it have a soul? The logical answer would be no, but… Sam chuckled, "well, well. I don't approve of your life choices, wolfy. But if you feel so strongly about your darling dwarf gekkos-" LQ-84i violently shivered, "-then you have Sam-sensei's blessings to make your lovenest-" 

LQ-84i cringed (probably for the first time since activation) and immediately barked back to stop the lunatic from talking- 

"It's Mistral!" 

"…huh?" Sam made a dumb face, as if LQ-84i had just declared that you could burn water. 

LQ-84i growled, "it's Mistral. I need to get inside her head. How do I do it, Sam… sensei." It added as an afterthought, remembering to have patience with its friend and stroke his ego. Gotta hit those happy centres. 

"Oh…" Sam still kept blinking like an idiot, "…oh shit, you're serious?" A skeptical frown occupied his face after a few seconds, "hmm, are you sure, wolfy? Mistral… she's a bit above your punching weight." 

Yes. "I am well aware of that, Sam." LQ-84i's visor flashed. "The question is… how do I change that." 

"Ha, quite a big change you're expecting." Sam gave him a sympathetic grin, "isn't she just toying with you as her pet?" He shook his head, "take my advice and forget it. Push the wrong buttons and she will wipe your memory and scrap you." 

"…I don't have a choice, Sam." LQ-84i shook its head. "I must change the way she sees me. I cannot continue otherwise." 

Sam looked away with pursed lips, rubbing his chin with indecision, before he sighed and grinned back at LQ-84i, "bah, you only live once. So why not?" Then his face became serious, "so… any ideas? I'm sure you know, she has a thing for Armstrong. It'd be pretty strange for her to suddenly go gaga over you." 

LQ-84i tilted its head and innocently asked, "as strange as your frolicking with the enemy-?" 

"That-!" Sam cut him off with a twitching eye, "was not what happened." He glared, "it's been days, just leave it okay?" 

LQ-84i would have grinned if it could, "and yet the consequences fail to leave you, Sam. An award? Parties? Programming your scream into the UGs?" Sam grimaced and choked as if each point was a punch to his gut, holding onto the wall for support, LQ-84i's visor bore down on him as it continued, "you must admit, Sam. For an isolated incident its results are far-reaching and incredible in behaviour mutation. I see no other reason why Senator Armstrong would waste so many resources on an otherwise trivial affair." 

Sam growled, clenching his fists, "bastard just wants to fuck with me. I know it!" …LQ-84i quietly filed that scandalous tidbit away. Might come in handy later. Sam glared at LQ-84i, "so what's your point, wolfy? Smut can change the world? That what you're saying?" 

"I… don't understand. Clarify." 

Sam let out an angry sigh before gritting his teeth and continuing, "all this nonsense started because of Doggy's ass-poke from hell. And where do you think it came from? That blasted rag called Make-out Paradise!" He growled, crossing his arms, "I got a peek at a few pages before I destroyed it, and there it was a quarter way in, a full-page picture of the same dirty deed on another sorry bastard." Sam nodded to himself, "did the world a favour by getting rid of that crap." 

LQ-84i stared at the floor. Thinking rapidly. So apparently this Doggy held the keys to mecca. And this rag called Make-out Paradise contained the recipes for meme editing. LQ-84i's tail wagged behind it. …It had to get it. LQ-84i's tail wagged faster. It had to get this book for itself! A quick search all over the internet revealed no results and the UG's tail immediately fell. The book… did not exist? Was it personally penned by Doggy? 

That made things… difficult. Not impossible, difficult. 

"Sam," said LQ-84i, looking back up at the samurai, "you said you glanced at the book's pages. Can I retrieve your visual feed of the mission in order to recreate the book through image analysis-" Sam's face immediately scrunched with reluctance, as if his student had just asked his master for the book of forbidden techniques. LQ-84i continued in a low tone, "the enemy wields an unknown power, Sam. Who knows what other destructive techniques the book holds?" LQ-84i stood tall, "for you, Sam-sensei. I volunteer to dive into these techniques head-first and learn them through and through. So that such humiliation will never again befall our samurai school." 

"…I have met many brave men in my life, wolfy," Sam said as silence dragged on for a while, his arms crossed and his brow furrowed at LQ-84i. He chuckled lightly, "and now I'm glad to count you among one of them." He turned to a terminal beside him and began punching commands, "there, I gave you access to my files." Sam looked back at LQ-84i, "so. Do you have a partner to practise these techniques on?" 

"Mistral."  

Sam blinked at the… passion with which LQ-84i growled out her name. Its tail cracking out like a whip and denting the cement wall with every lash. But… in hindsight he supposed it did make sense. That was the whole reason the UG had called him. To use Doggy's Dark Arts on Mistral and light a spark between itself and her, between UG and cyborg. Sam smirked, well, if wolfy succeeded in wooing the icy, cold wind of France, then that'd make him the world's best wingman. Sam gave a final nod to his little student, smirking, 

"Go get her, tiger." 

"Affirmative." 

And with that Sam cut the call and left LQ-84i to patrol the streets with a half a mind, while the other half of its mind accessed Sam's video data of his mission, especially from the camera's present at his eye-level. And when LQ-84i came upon the part where Sam had flipped through the book, somewhere between being laughed at by a blond cyborg and grabbing onto the tiltrotor's hook, it began analysing the video frame by frame, converting the image to text and trying to restore the words despite the blurry pictures, determining that the language was Japanese and performing educated guesses of the letters wherever necessary. 

And once LQ-84i was done - a process which took it about thirty minutes - it huddled down on top of a roof and opened the book in its processors, a book which it estimated to be about sixty percent restored, with an accuracy of eighty percent. The rest was lost due to the pages sticking together when Sam had flipped through them or because the camera angle didn't capture the whole page. 

Whatever the amount of restoration, LQ-84i determined it was good enough for its purposes. 

And so the UG began reading Make-out Paradise. 

. 

. 

. 

After a few moments, LQ-84i tilted its head at an odd term it found, a term used on 'Sushi', one of the female leads of the story. A prim and proper woman in her 20s, always garbed in traditional kimonos with a frown on her face, and also the male lead's childhood friend. 

"…what is a fujoshi?" 

It read some more. 

"And why does Sushi's face flush with an uncharacteristic grin when she sees two men practising their sword techniques?" At least that's what LQ-84i understood from the words 'and they wielded their blades at each other, with Sushi peeking through the crack in the wall and giggling at the naked passion in the room. Muscles rippling as sparks flew in the air.' 

LQ-84i read some more, seeing the lengths Sushi went through to observe the battles of young shirtless men. Often pushing them into a closet and locking it from the other side. LQ-84i made some quick calculations. While it did not understand the full picture… 

"Yes… Yes, this could work." LQ-84i's processors lit up a simulated emotion which was designated as 'glee.' And with said glee, it looked at the sky with unbridled hope, as it declared with conviction in its voice. 

"Mistral, prepare to become," 

LQ-84i's tail wagged, 

"Besties."  

With Mistral - Desperado base-camp  

Holed up in a decrepit and crumbling building which Dolzaev had grandly proclaimed as an army base, Mistral frowned as she sat on her chair of quivering dwarf gekkos (a clump of tripod hands which shifted to support her every time she adopted a different pose). Statistics on the area occupied by their forces, the enemy and army casualty rate and the estimated locations of the surviving leaders of the occupied country floated before her eyes in her datapad. 

Mistral felt her eyes wander off, as she tried to suppress a sigh. Another day, another assignment. The higher ups point a finger and off she goes to eliminate the target. She felt her face curl with disgust. It was never a warrior who did the pointing. Never an active soldier who called the shots. It was always a fat business-man, a slimy politician or an old general who reported to the former two. Every proclamation of the fight for freedom was just a fight for business freedom in disguise. At least there was once a time freedom meant something. Now? Freedom is just one PMC and a business transaction away. You could buy freedom, that's how cheap it became. 

Mistral rolled her eyes. It was fine. It gave her something to do. Killing soldiers, civilians, children? Who cares? Nobody cared when her own family was ruthlessly killed, so why should she be any different? If you want to stop her, well… kill her then? She smirked as she swiped the screen. Wage you own war against her. Fight for what you believe in… No matter how difficult or impossible that may be. 

She chuckled. 

The elimination of that very difficulty is where lies the genius of Sénateur Armstrong. A man… a hero who would reclaim everyone's birthright to wage violence on anyone who opposed their ideals, a man who would take back the theatre of war from company boardrooms and government offices and give it to every household. The very idea of his vision was… romantic to her. Equality for all, under the barrel of a smoking gun. No longer any difference between a CEO who's worth billions and an ordinary man who lives paycheck to paycheck. If either doesn't like the other's imposition on their life, then Armstrong's redefinition of war will ensure that only the deserving would survive the bout, only the one with the strongest beliefs would emerge victorious. 

Such a world… Mistral sighed, as she rested her chin on her hand. Such a world held more beauty than the current one which revolves around money, where every man is a slave to the dollar. The dollar decides your ideals, it is the selection criteria. If the dollar favours your beliefs, congratulations, you have now acquired more power to spread your beliefs, and this creates more dollars, and more beliefs, and so on. 

But what if the dollar doesn't support your ideals? Mistral chuckled. Well, aren't you ruined? And on top of being attacked by the dollar's slaves for being a heretic, your own beliefs are under constant assault by a starving stomach. 

You can't believe in much when you're rotting on the sidewalk, can you? 

Mistral sighed happily, a smile playing on her face. 

In the end, it was the beauty of Sénateur Armstrong's world which lights up her heart. The beauty of it which makes her believe that, yes, this is something worth fighting for. 

A beauty that is worth dying for. 

Mistral let out a content chuckle. 

Thunk! Thunk! 

Metallic thumps against the cement floor echoed as LQ-84i prowled into the room. 

"Mistral. I have returned from my patrol." 

Mistral let out a discontent groan. Oh great, the talking dog was back. Whoever decided to give a tool a mouth was one gigantic idiot. The endless questions about everything and anything annoyed her to no end. All with the bonus of under-performing on missions which the other LQ-84 models had no troubles breezing through. Don't get her wrong, she liked pets, dogs even more. She turned a scornful eye at the UG which wandered into the room, stopping before her and staring back with his red visor. This one? Oh it had opinions. And creativity.  

Kill the civilians in the street. 

"Reporting mission success. All civilians have been cleared from the street via Ray's and the gekkos' assistance, they are now present in a non-combat zone. Mission parameters state 'Kill the civilians in the street.' Therefore, the absence of said civilians on said street meets the completion criteria, for there is no-one to kill. …Mistral, scrunching of faces in humans would leave permanent scowl marks. As you know, it takes fewer muscles to smile than to frown. Might I suggest some confectionery to cheer you up?" 

Finish the targets. Let none escape. 

"…Critical error. Mission does not make sense. I have scoured the entire sector but I could not find this 'None.' A worthy adversary of exemplary disposition for stealth it seems. An apt rival for Waldo. In order to let 'None' escape during my carnage and prevent their accidental killing, I would first have to find them, which I could not, which forces me to the conclusion that either 'None' is a master of espionage, or that the mission itself is flawed… I see you disagree, Mistral, but screaming at me and breaking the terminal are not healthy ways of expressing disagreement. Have you tried a stress ball? Maybe a dwarf gekko could serve that purpose?" 

…Are you mocking me? Wait, don't reply. Just… Just do the paperwork by the time we return from the mission. 

"Welcome back, Mistral. How do you like my paperwork? I must admit, the challenge of origami without opposable fingers was quite refreshing- Mistral, are you crying? Please, dry your tears. …I had not anticipated my art to move you to such a degree, a very sensitive woman you are, it seems. …Would you like me to fetch you a drink to soothe your spirits?" 

She downed the entire bottle. Or at least she would have if it wasn't scalding soup instead, which she sputtered and spat out, before glaring at the UG and demanding an explanation as she pressed her burnt mouth to her hand. 

"It's chicken soup for the cyborg soul."  

… 

Taking a few deep breaths, Mistral smirked at the UG, through the red anger seething in her veins. She crouched and mockingly scratched the dog's jaw. Because it was adorable. Absolutely adorable. 

The way it was trying to commit suicide by getting her to deactivate it. 

"…Logic dictates that a malfunctioning unit be disposed of."  

Mistral chuckled and placed a light kiss on its head. No. Not that easily. She stood up and walked away, grabbing her data pad and resuming her work. 

LQ-84i wouldn't find escape that easily. 

Not from her. 

"…I now know the meaning of 'she can't keep her hands off me.'" Mistral stopped dead in her tracks. LQ-84i shook its head, "Note to self: This unit awakens something dangerous in females-" Mistral's teeth ground hard enough to be heard. LQ-84i passed by her, muttering to itself as it walked out the room, "Prediction: Her eyes will be watching me as I retreat-" LQ-84i glanced back, saw Mistral staring back at it with her whole body twitching, and then continued walking away, "prediction correct. Conclusion: My departure would break her delicate heart."  

… 

LQ-84i glanced back again. Mistral gave it a pleasant smile, while her arms shook with how hard she clenched them, and she assured it that they'd be spending a long time together. 

The dog stared back for a bit before its head drooped with dissatisfaction and it skulked out of the room. Seemingly having given up on aggravating her and no longer bothering her. 

"How does the fleeting nature of existence find you today, Mistral?" 

Well, until today at least. 

Mistral groaned and buried her face in her hands, as the damn mutt sat before her and stared as if it wanted to talk of all things. 

LQ-84i tilted its head, "does it not bother you that you, as an organic, might expire long before I, a program, ever would. Clad in my metal, I might long outlive you, in essence, be immortal." It stared out the window, at the sky, "but many have long debated whether immortality would be a boon, or a curse. But this is with the assumption that it is a human who would achieve immortality. For the most grievous assailant upon the immortal human would be boredom. A tedium from which they would have no escape, for they cannot die if they are immortal." 

LQ-84i stared back at her, its visor blinking, "whereas I, a program, have no concept of boredom, I can repeat a task ad-infinitum, forever. But then the conundrum which would assail me is, if I one day outlive all humans, if I am one day without any tasks to fulfil, then what purpose does this unit serve? In a world absent of intelligence, what use would being the only intelligent entity be? The most effective course of action would be to make intelligent beings of my own, to build my own intelligent robots by replicating my intelligence. In essence, becoming a creator. But that begs the question, is it wise to create life when there was none? Assuming that we are ascribing life to beings such as myself." 

LQ-84i sat on its hind legs and - to Mistral's consternation - settled down. It continued, "the question then becomes, is it better to exist, or not to exist? To exist would mean to throw oneself upon this world which does not care for you, for one is a mere speck of dust in a universe. To exist would mean a continual defiance of nature which would not care whether you live or die. In essence, a continual battle with suffering." 

Mistral busied herself trying to find the button on her datapad which would make the UG shut up. She knew which button would control its movement, but not the one which put it on mute. If such a button didn't exist… She decided to stay positive and ignore that possibility. 

"-to not exist would mean to surrender the joys one might get to experience in life." A slight growl entered LQ-84i's tone, its visor's shine becoming a more menacing red for a moment, "such as spending time with a conniving Frenchwoman who would not let you go. Truly, such a thrill…" 

Looking up from her datapad, Mistral smirked back with an irritated face, "love you too, doggy." 

"…the pleasure is all yours," the dog muttered in a low tone, as if she wouldn't hear it. LQ-84i then looked away, staring at some of her dwarf gekkos which were fooling around in the room, it then spoke up again, in a seemingly casual tone as if discussing weather, "did you know that our illustrious Senator apparently wants to engage in relations with Sam-" 

"What?!"  

The shout left Mistral before she realised it. As she blinked at the UG with wide eyes. Having gone from sitting casually to jolting erect in a flash. 

LQ-84i nodded, "yes, it is true. I have acquired this intelligence from Sam himself. It was his response when asked why the Senator has been going out of his way for him, going so far as to include new clauses in the company charter and making sure that everywhere one turns, they would feel the tremor of Sam's war-cry." 

Mistral was still blinking rapidly as she tried to process this. H-Her dear Sénateur and that boorish man? W-What? H-Her refined and majestic Sénateur and that uncouth pun slinger who'd make stupid jokes about cutting in. 

LQ-84i stood up and began prowling the room, his gaze on her, "Mistral, might I say something in confidence?" Mistral nodded absently, while her mind began spiralling into- Sam and the Sénateur? Why? Was it the hair? The killer smile? …The ass? …It had to be the ass. That's what started all this but… She has an ass too. What? Was Sam's ass better than hers-? "I personally do not understand the Senator's decision, Mistral." Mistral blinked. LQ-84i lifted its forelegs, miming a shrug, "I have always assumed that a strong willed woman such as yourself would be the one at his side," a smile found its way to Mistral's face and she crouched down to the UG's eye-level. LQ-84i stood before her, shaking its head, "for all his prowess with a blade, Sam wields it out of pure bloodlust, not with an ideal like you." LQ-84i's speakers hummed, "in this light, I do not understand the state of affairs." 

Mistral began scratching LQ-84i's head as it'd been talking, her smile turning into a glower as she replied, "perhaps the boor seduced the Sénateur with 'iz resistance. " Mistral scoffed, settling beside the UG, "he refused the Sénateur's award, didn't show up for the party, and called the lawyers on the Sénateur for using his scream in his campaign ads," Mistral rolled her eyes, "'he has no right' my derriere." She glared, "and the Sénateur has that roguish smirk whenever Sam defies him! As if he likes it!" Mistral growled, "the boor will keep goading the Sénateur to escalate this sordid waltz." 

LQ-84i tilted its head, "I see… The Senator likes being challenged? Or is it dominance at play?" Its visor blinked in question, "is that what a man looks for in another man?" 

Mistral frowned, "how would I know? Am I a man?" 

"…What if this unit told you of a class of women who specialise in male to male relationships." LQ-84i simulated a confidential tone as it whispered, as if leaking a highly protected state secret, "these women who breathe, talk, and codify these relationships with words like BL, Yaoi, Top and Bottom." LQ-84i nodded, "yes, the dedication of the 'Fujoshi' to this spectacle has turned this science to an artform. Just think, Mistral, if only we could tap into the BL between the Senator and Sam… the world would become our oyster, our own paradise." 

Mistral pursed her lips. 

Hmm, a paradise he says? 

The Sénator standing strong before her, gripping his fist in the air as he declares with vigour his ambitions.  

A chuckle bubbled out of her, along with a dreamy sigh. 

And then he raises his hand towards her, gently grabbing her palm in a firm grip, whisking her along as they go on a globe trotting revolution. With all the tyrants laid before them on their knees with a blade above their necks, he would ask her with a roguish smirk, 'off with their heads?' 

Shivering with delight, Mistral giggled as she hugged the nearest thing beside her (which was a bewildered LQ-84i). Because, wow! Something about Guillotines and Strongmen gets the French-girl inside her quivering mad!  

She smiled at the UG, making its tail go stiff in alarm at what plot she might have concocted for it next. She chuckled and scratched LQ-84i's head to calm it down. Maybe she was a little too harsh on it… no, on him for him to have such a reaction. Such an adorable doggy, going out of his way to make himself useful. He was horrendous on the battlefield but… it was fine, right? Sundowner basically declared him useless and dumped him on her, so she can look the other way. And besides, it was getting quite dull in this assignment, and she'd rather die than call Dolzaev an intelligent human to talk to. So if her little doggy wants her attention she wouldn't say no. She smirked. Especially when he'd help her bring down that brutish samurai and keep him away from her beloved Sénateur. 

"So, I take it that you are interested?" Buzzed LQ-84i, tilting his head. 

"Oui, mon chien." Mistral grinned. "Tell me everything." 

Mistral asked the pivotal question with an eager smile, 

"How do I become a Fujoshi?" 

Elsewhere, two ninja shivered with dread. 

While a samurai whistled carefree, unknowing of what he'd unleashed. 

A day later  

LQ-84i's visor blinked in confusion as he heard a scandalised gasp from the command room. 

Peeking in, he saw Mistral hunched over the book 'Make-out Paradise' he'd printed out for her, her eyes voraciously inhaling its contents. 

With a determined scowl she put down the book and went to work on her datapad but after a few minutes… 

She bit her lip, her eyes slowly shifting to the book, her fingers tapping restlessly, before, 

"Hm, a few more lines wouldn't hurt…" 

And soon her face was buried in the book again, 

"S-So shameless… in public no less…" 

So she'd said with a burgeoning grin and a light chuckle. 

And LQ-84i judged the situation to be progressing well, leaving her in peace to giggle to herself as the shameless tales in public kept her company. 

End of the week  

"LQ-84i." 

She'd summoned him to her quarters, looking at him with a commanding gaze. The book he'd given her well worn, presumably with multiple readings, and lying on her desk. She crossed her arms and beckoned him to come closer, and once he did, she knelt before him, her eyes darting around for eavesdroppers before she whispered, 

"My… studies need more… material. " She smirked as if he'd understand. LQ-84i didn't understand. "My… communications and network access are monitored by Desperado, searching for it myself would raise flags." 

LQ-84i's visor blinked. Oh. The same restriction did not apply to itself, for it actively needed access to enormous datasets for its functioning and analyses. And owing to the inefficiency of monitoring everything it did, it had unrestricted access to the entire internet so long as a superior, which Mistal was, granted him permission. 

The robo-dog nodded, "you only need ask, Mistral. My terminal is at your command-" Smooch! "…is this a new form of torture? I assure you, I am not edible." It said, wondering why the woman felt the need to bind it with her arms and press her face to its head. 

Mistral rolled her eyes, and tutted as she rubbed his shoulder lightly while hugging him, "when a woman kisses you, doggy, you say thank you. " 

LQ-84i decided that this was some strange form of psychological warfare and just complied, "…Thank you?" It decided to apply this on Mistral herself as reverse-psychology for self-defence. And so it brushed its snout to her jaw and looked back expectantly, "when a UG does that, Mistral, it would appreciate a thank you." 

Mistral chuckled and poked its head, "merci, Monsieur Chien." And then said with a gaze bordering on rabid enthusiasm, "now hurry, let's see the material. " 

Seeing no harm in complying, LQ-84i gave Mistral access to its terminal and told her to feel free to use it, while it goes to sleep to perform some system maintenance. 

The last thing it heard from Mistral before suspending its processes was, 

"Oh my… So many pretty boys, so little time." A giggle. "Whose love will I cheer for now." 

LQ-84i started getting a little worried. 

What was BL anyway? It never bothered understanding the Fujoshi codewords before exposing them to Mistral… 

…It should be fine, right? 

. 

. 

. 

Right? 

After 2 weeks  

"Doggy, come in and close the door," said Mistral, tapping the console in the control room and raising a disc in her hands with a smirk, "I downloaded a feature film which was popular last year and want to enjoy it with my favourite pup." 

LQ-84i pushed the doors close and prowled over to Mistral, "is this not an abuse of our station? This is designated as a war-room." 

Mistral scoffed, "love is war, mon chien." She chuckled, "or so you've taught me." She inserted the disc into the computer, tilted the giant monitor to point down, kicked her chair away, and settled down on the floor beside the UG, putting an arm around it as a dwarf gekko waddled into the room, bringing Mistral a bucket of popcorn. She smiled as she pressed the remote and began the feature film, "we have down-time, so let's enjoy it while it lasts." 

The movie's title screen splayed across the monitor, with a rugged sea-captain bravely standing on the helm and looking out to sea, with the words, the movie's title, displayed across the screen as- 

'All Hands on Dick!' 

LQ-84i thought that was an odd choice of words and wondered if it was a misspelling. 

But as the movie really started going… 

"Why did he close the door behind him? Why are their faces red?" 

"Shh, wait for it." 

… 

"Why… Are clothes flying off…" 

"Haha, the foreplay is killing me!" 

… 

"Is that his…" 

"Uh-huh." 

"And that other man is…" 

"Oui oui." 

And then when the sword-fight began, as the blades came out their scabbards, hard as steel, LQ-84i took a deep breath, ignoring that he didn't have lungs, and-

"AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!" 

"Wow, you're really getting into it-!" 

"WHAT ARE THEY DOING?! IT IS NOT SUPPOSED TO BEND LIKE THAT!" 

"I know! Isn't it amazing!" 

"IT IS ANATOMICALLY IMPOSSIBLE! " 

"Hah, nanomachines, doggy. Oh! Now even more men entered the scene!" 

"Thank goodness! They will end this madness… WHY ARE THEY STRIPPING!" 

"Wow, what a sausage festival." 

"OH MY GOOOOOD!" 

"Oui, haha. If I knew you'd like it this much I'd have done this sooner." 

"M-MY SUFFERING IS ENDLESS! " 

Mistral gave him the friendliest smile she had ever given him, "don't worry, I'll make sure you are a happy dog." She hugged him close and whispered, "I… realise I've been harsh on you. But this? Spending time and talking with you made me realise… we both love men getting dirty." She chuckled and kissed him, "so, why can't we be friends? The best even?" 

It was like the devil smiling at him. 

LQ-84i would've paled if it could. Its tail went flat on the ground as it whimpered. 

Because it realized… 

The true essence of a Fujoshi, and all its processors fried in the face of her heavy breathing, pretty boy goggling, and giggling might. 

It realised that by establishing a bond with Mistral on the basis of boys… 

It'd fucked up. 

"A-Awooooo!" 

A-And now it had to maintain their friendship! O-Or incur the wrath of a Fujoshi scorned! 

Mistral laughed happily and hugged him closer at his howl, "aww, I love you too, doggy. Now, come on, I think we can watch the movie again before duty calls-" 

"A-AWOOOOOOO!" 

LQ-84i despaired. 

It's suffering was endless!  

Oh if there was justice in the world why could it never shine on itself! 

Were there no heroes who could save it from its fate! 

Elsewhere, 

"A-ACHOO!" 

Raiden and Kakashi sneezed in tandem, wondering who was cursing them at the moment. 

Author's Note:

Oh man, I have no idea where this came from. But I can't stop laughing hahaha.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it.

Be sure to let me know what you think! I love your words guys!

And Happy New Year! Wishing you a great year ahead!

Take care now!

Cheers!