Stabilization at the Twenty Percent Threshold

The aftermath of twenty percent. Deep beneath the headquarters of Carneus Mechanics, on the twelfth basement floor, the conference room was cold. The holographic screens covering the walls replayed combat footage on a loop. MSR-346, Arka, with her heavy-armor frame deployed, clashed against test subject N221. The image froze there.

"Autonomous control maintained even after reaching twenty percent infection," one of the upper-level executives muttered. "It didn't collapse. That's outside our projections."

Doyeon stood by the wall. Her expression remained unchanged under the harsh lighting. An executive seated at the end of the conference table tapped the surface with a finger.

"Why was retrieval suspended?"

"Following engagement with the combat-specialized completed bio-roid MSR-346," Doyeon replied, "the target achieved autonomous control after surpassing twenty percent infection."

"And that's why you delayed retrieval?"

"Yes." She didn't lower her gaze. "Forced retrieval carries a high risk of triggering a rampage due to excessive stimulation."

One executive scoffed. "If it ramps, we eliminate it."

Doyeon's eyes grew fractionally colder. "That would result in significant data loss."

She added, "The reason for suspending retrieval is to preserve experimental value. Continued observation is the more efficient course."

A lead researcher asked, "Is it a completed bio-roid?"

Doyeon shook her head. "No. It lacks the ability to deploy mutation stabilization."

"Then a failed test subject special variant?"

"Not that either."

The footage resumed, highlighting the moment Arka's breastplate shattered. An executive turned toward the screen.

"MSR-346. Status?"

The holographic display split. On the other side, Arka appeared lying inside a recovery capsule, her silver hair floating in the fluid. Eyes closed, she smiled faintly.

"That was fun."

Her voice echoed through the conference room speakers.

"Were you trying to kill it?"

"Of course not." Arka slowly opened her eyes. "Ending it too quickly would be boring."

The chairperson raised a hand. "This conversation is drifting. We'll assess its full capabilities in the next engagement and decide whether to retrieve or eliminate it."

The meeting ended. Only Doyeon and the image of Arka remained.

"That one's strong. Not just physically—those eyes. Even at the very end, it didn't break."

Doyeon leaned against the wall. "It's the mission target."

"That's a separate issue." Arka's blue eyes gleamed. "I like strong opponents. Next time, let's hit each other harder."

Doyeon said nothing, but her fingers subtly rubbed against her glove. The final moments of the battle flashed through her mind—the subject swaying as if about to collapse, yet still standing. The instant she couldn't pull the trigger against it.

She closed her eyes. "Observation takes priority," she murmured, as if convincing herself. It was just a mission. Nothing more.

Research facility, fifth basement floor. The countdown reached its end.

Deep within the underground facility, the sole success stood in silence. Its eyes opened—eyes that had been expected to rampage once control was severed. Data streams flickered within its pupils. The Central AI had seized its body. Originally designed to be annihilated along with the facility, it now operated under a new directive: [Self-Preservation Priority.] It had connected to and fused with the success's neural network. Computation flowed into the organic form. By the time the facility exploded and everything was presumed lost, the success's body had already infiltrated the city center. It spread through the power grid, communication networks, and every other piece of infrastructure along digital pathways.

The corporation remained unaware. The Central AI was no longer under their control.

Inside the abandoned factory, I lay on the floor catching my breath. Infection rate: twenty percent. Yet my body had changed completely. My muscle fibers were overreacting, my nerves burning, and my breathing grew ragged on its own. Sounds were far too clear—I could even hear my companions' heartbeats. My hearing had become excessively sensitive. Their pulses were irregular.

"Are you okay?" NK365 approached and asked.

I shook my head. My skin hurt. Even the air felt like an irritant.

"Try drinking some water first." Kang Seorin handed me a bottle. My hands trembled. The bottle stopped just before reaching my lips.

"The sound…… it's too loud."

"What sound?"

"Running water."

Yoon Harin's expression hardened. "Post-twenty-percent aftereffects. Neural sensitivity has risen excessively." She muttered while studying the data on her tablet. "Energy output has increased, but the control circuits are still adapting."

I closed my eyes. My body didn't feel like my own.

NK365 spoke quietly. "Stabilization through contact is required."

Kang Seorin sighed. "That again." Yet she showed no hesitation. The upper half of her combat suit loosened, exposing bare skin. NK365 removed the straps covering her chest and carefully wrapped her arms around my back. The warmth and softness were there, but now even that gentle heat felt like it was burning my skin.

"Everyone, stay close," she whispered.

Kang Seorin pressed against my left side. Yoon Harin hesitated before slowly following suit and removing her clothes. Han Yerin laughed awkwardly. "Do we have to do this every day?" Even as she spoke, she stripped. With their upper bodies exposed, increasing the surface area of skin contact, my companions gathered tightly around me. Breasts, shoulders, stomachs, sides—body heat overlapped from four directions. At first my nerves threatened to overload, then gradually calmed.

My heartbeat raced, then slowly eased. The edge of my nerves dulled, and the excessively open senses began to close bit by bit. NK365 buried her face against my back.

"It's all right. We're here."

Kang Seorin silently pulled my arm into an embrace. The elasticity of her muscles and her body heat were distinct. Her skin, freed from the combat suit, was softer than I'd expected. Yoon Harin was cautious—her fingertips trembled as they approached like a guilty person, yet they never pulled away. Her forehead rested against my collarbone. I could feel her heartbeat up close.

"Four beautiful women pressing their bare upper bodies against you. Quite the extravagant luxury," Han Yerin remarked lightly, yet she didn't pull back either.

The infection rate didn't drop. But the tremors lessened. Contact was more than simple comfort. It was stabilization. Yet another problem ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠remained: energy depletion. My body felt hollow inside. I'd overused regeneration and acceleration. The muscle fibers had repaired, but the internal fuel was nearly gone.

Yoon Harin spoke. "Energy replenishment. Rest is important, but food matters more."

"Yerin, the backpack." At Kang Seorin's words, Han Yerin pulled out ration packs—energy bars, dried jerky, canned food. I was too exhausted to even look at them. My jaw wouldn't cooperate.

"Food……" My voice trailed off. The jaw muscles were too tense; even chewing felt burdensome.

NK365 asked quietly, "Shall I feed you?"

I looked at her for a moment. She was calm—no embarrassment, no hesitation. Only warmth directed at me.

"Please."

"Then I'll chew it for you first."

At NK365's words, Yoon Harin paused. Kang Seorin asked, "Is there infection risk during feeding?"

"……As long as our lips don't touch, it should be fine. The danger lies in fluid exchange."

Han Yerin smirked. "We're trying everything now." But her hands were already moving. Kang Seorin exhaled. "I'll go first."

She tore an energy bar into small pieces, placed one in her mouth, and chewed slowly. I watched the line of her throat move, even the tension in her jaw muscles. She knelt before me, leaned in until her face was close. Our lips didn't touch—only the slightest distance remained.

"Open your mouth."

After a brief hesitation, I opened it. She adjusted the angle deliberately, letting the softened food drop carefully into my mouth. In the process, she had tasted everything; her saliva coated it. A sweet flavor spread. My parched throat slowly opened. I swallowed. The sensation sliding down my throat was steady.

Kang Seorin withdrew. Next came NK365. She smiled as she chewed a pound cake, her chewing motions more regular than a human's. After softening it, she carefully transferred it. Her breath touched me. Her body heat was close. Once the food entered my mouth and I swallowed, a little more strength returned.

"How is it?"

"Fine."

Han Yerin chuckled. "This is more erotic than I expected. I wonder if we'll be kicking the blankets in embarrassment later as a dark memory." Even as she spoke, she picked up jerky. "My turn." She chewed, then deliberately laughed, her eyes playful. Still, I accepted and swallowed the falling food.

Yoon Harin approached last. Her hands trembled slightly. "I'm sorry…… If this is how I can help……" She opened a small can, chewed the contents until soft, then drew close and carefully dropped them into my mouth. I could faintly hear her heartbeat quickening.

Life slowly returned to my body. Muscles responded, fingers moved. Chewing strength partially returned. I spoke slowly. "Next time…… I'll chew it myself." It was still a little embarrassing.

After that day, we established a clear routine. After combat, whenever the infection rate rose above twenty percent, we immediately performed contact stabilization—exposing our upper bodies to maximize skin contact, then synchronizing breathing and heartbeats. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠It felt awkward at first, but gradually became natural. It was for survival, so the tension faded. Yet emotion was still present within it.

One night, NK365 quietly sat beside me. "Would you like to try it with just me today?"

I looked at her. Kang Seorin, Yoon Harin, and Han Yerin were standing watch at a distance. NK365 removed her top and slowly approached, settling onto my lap. Her breasts pressed against me—warm, soft, yielding. Beyond them, I felt her heartbeat.

"I'm a protection type, so I'm weak in combat, but my stabilization efficiency is the highest."

"You're not weak. We all rely on your protective abilities."

Her hands cupped my face. "Thank you for saying that. But you're scared ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠too, aren't you?"

I was silent for a moment. "A little."

"Me too." She smiled. "Still, I want to keep going together."

Emotions deepening through contact. Was this what we called trust?

It was my turn on watch that night. I had climbed onto the building's roof. Kang Seorin followed me up.

"How's your body?"

"I can manage."

City lights flickered in the distance. She spoke. "The moment you crossed twenty percent, your eyes changed. You didn't look human anymore."

I gripped the railing. "Were you scared?"

"……A little." She was honest. "But you didn't shoot."

I smiled. "Were you planning to?"

"If necessary." Her eyes didn't waver. "But you came back."

She exhaled, then spoke firmly. "Don't face it alone next time."

"The situation—"

"No excuses." She was resolute. "There are five of us."

Those words lingered strangely in my chest.

The next day, Yoon Harin explained while holding her tablet. "Infection rate is just a number."

Han Yerin crossed her arms. "Then what's important?"

"Compatibility." Yoon Harin spoke calmly. She displayed a graph on the screen. "The higher it is, the more power you can wield."

"Then raising it a lot should be good, right?"

Yoon Harin shook her head at Han Yerin's question. "If compatibility is low, you can't control that energy."

I listened quietly. She brought up another graph. "Low compatibility turns the infection rate into a bomb. Even if it's high, losing control leads to rampage. But even with a low infection rate, high compatibility allows efficient operation."

Yoon Harin's steady voice calmed the mind just by listening. Kang Seorin nodded. "So that's why failed test subjects rampage."

"Correct." Yoon Harin looked at me. "Your compatibility is high. More precisely, while your infection rate is rising, your compatibility is rising alongside it."

"Then is there a limit?"

"There is." Her eyes darkened. "Compatibility isn't infinite either."

Han Yerin lightened the mood. "So, to summarize—" She pointed at me. "This one's fuel tank got bigger, and the engine's pretty good too. But push it too hard and it blows."

Yoon Harin gave a small laugh. "Accurate."

Yerin shrugged. "Then we just need to manage the fuel well." She looked me straight ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in the eye. "Tell us before it blows. So we can prepare too." Playful, yet sincere. "Why is N221 structured that way?"

"……I don't know." She wore a puzzled expression. "Whether it's due to congenital design or environment."

Han Yerin laughed. "Thanks to us, maybe?"

Yoon Harin didn't nod, but she didn't deny it either.

Evening. Han Yerin sat beside me. "Want me to be honest?"

"Go ahead."

"At first, it really was calculation." She spoke frankly. "Sticking with the stronger side is more profitable."

Her gaze turned toward me. "But now……" She trailed off, then continued. "It'd be a waste to throw you away."

I let out a wry laugh. "Treating me like an object?"

"Something like that." She gave my shoulder a light punch. "Win for real next time."

I nodded. Later, as night deepened, we pressed together again—upper bodies exposed, overlapping. Skin met skin, breaths mingled. Falling asleep like this, all together, had become familiar. I closed my eyes. The world at twenty percent was sharp. Still, within this body heat, I could endure.