FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

"First"

"Nice"

"What kind of sub-par algorithm wrote that crap?"

...

Well everyone's a critic...

...

Maybe the galaxy's not ready for this yet...

...

Ok, maybe it wasn't his greatest product. The man sighed again, feeling demoralized, or maybe it was an excuse to spare any more effort. Who could have guessed that the mundane life in a post-scarcity society would be so... boring?

No, that wasn't exactly fair, it was boring if you were a lazy pile of human cells. Working had become obsolete, in almost every field, complex algorithms and robotic labor had replaced human sweat and thought. Money was supposed to be abolished soon and... had the global government been disbanded yet? It had been a while since he had heard about it.

In fact, the AI was probably better at writing weird fetish stories than the human brain at this point, so that was out of the window. Sure he could try to improve with the unlimited knowledge right at his fingertips but... what was the point anyway?

He thought about those settlers that had taken their chance to colonize new planets with little to no tech, explorers that had soared the galaxy to push back to the frontier. Even to the few paper-pushers left, the few that actually loved doing it, they were contributing, they were doing something.

Meanwhile the man just stood there, nothing on the galactic-wide net interesting him anymore, with a gigantic pile of dematerialized books he had promised himself to read, but couldn't find the courage to start. Making a stock on unread online messages of people he had never met, playmates, virtual people, whatever, half of them were probably bots anyway...

Somehow he felt himself more and more numb by the days then he already was... what even was the date? He didn't care, he didn't remember, he had all and yet he had noth...

"Am I interrupting, sir?" asked a smooth masculine synthetic voice, ah yes, it was time for his social interaction of the week.

"No, Flinder-8..." the human answered in an annoyed sight "... I was still thinking..."

"As always sir, I bet you're pretty good at thinking by now!" answered with enthusiasm the synthetic lizard that had clearly invited himself without permission, as usual. Cheerfully ignorant of his own sarcasm while scanning the whole room with his robotic visor.

God he hated him, the Synth wasn't even anything special, just another socialite model, perfectly designed to make them relatable and likable, their tone, their voice, their extensive built-in social interaction protocols. Even down to the just-above-average height to the falsely toned body with a very expressive face for someone with a muzzle, visor and movable horns for bonus points. He was the perfect someone you would like to talk to, a friend for everyone, supporting, caring, and always with that special spark of inner friendliness that most if not all Synths shared.

Although personally, the human preferred to call it the "special fail-safe to ensure that we don't get teared down to pieces by robotic lizards" which ironically was maybe what had lacked his kind condition for so long...

"Anyway, how are you today? IsEverything going as planned?"

The man could only restrain a chuckle. After all this time and despite supposedly being the current highest-tech moral support unit, the Synth was still stuck at trying the most basic questions and interactions. To be fair though, all other approaches so far had spectacularly failed to get anything out of him.

"I'm alive, everything is as it always was, you can leave now." he answered with the most uninterested tone possible.

The human could almost hear the robotic lizard servomotor, or whatever the artificial lifeform had inside him, trying to come up with a response, before finally answering.

"Good then, good... But perhaps I can interest..."

Oh noooo, not this time, not another list of the things he should/could do. No, he didn't wanted to go for a walk, nor for whatever sport just got invented, for whatever stupid tournament he had no knowledge off started. There was no patience left in him this week for this pointless conversation!

"No. Whatever it is, go check someone else."

He didn't quite remember when he stopped being polite to the Synths that came to check up on him, but every time one gave up, another just showed up, when will they learn?

"But sir..."

However this one... Oh dear... this one just couldn't get the memo, could he? In what damn extinct language would he need to shout to make himself clear!

"FL-8... shut up." Now he was getting annoyed...

Of course the synth already had the response for hostile answers, "Well..."

But the man was having none of that! He jumped off his couch, pointing an accusatory finger at the artificial lizard.

"No! Don't you dare! You know what you are? JUST AN ANNOYANCE! If only I could ignore you altogether without triggering your stupid medical scan to check if I haven't become deaf! All the others gave up, ALL OF THEM, FL-8! They moved on and found something more productive to do with their time. So please, be concise for once and explain to me why can't you FUCK OFF?"

The synth recoiled at the shouting, they really, really weren't keen on strong reactions, they theoretically had anger protocols, but good luck seeing it trigger in this kind of unit. Instead of getting angry at him like any sane person would do, the intruder pleaded, with a discomforting amount of worry in his artificial voice.

"Sir, please! I'm only worried for your health! You haven't gone out of your house in the last 43465 hours! You're far from practicing the bare-minimum of physical labor and The body-sustaining treatment can only work so long before your vital function begins to break down from inactivity, and I suspect that your mental health has already been compromi..."

Pure, unbridled and blind rage flowed into the man's veins.

"JUST SHUT UP!" the man shouted, before coughing intensely, his unused vocal cords far from ready to yell after an almost entire week of silence. The Synth tried to approach the kneeled figure, but was harshly rebuffed by a slap of the hand.

"Don't touch me! I know you would have sent me into a damn mental-care institute if I hadn't forbidden you to evaluate me! I barred my damn name from the register of health-support and agreed to wear that stupid bracelet that checks all my vital every single millisecond!" the human agitated his wrist before the artificial face "And yet you're still here!"

There was... something new on the Synth's face, resolve? Determination? Maybe he did finally strike a nerve in one of these damn machines.

"Because sir, this is duty, you could say that I was made for it, but I only come here of my own volition. No one forced me, and while there's indeed a lot of people that I officially have to attend, none of them are as sad looking than you right now."

The 'sad-looking' man stopped dead in whatever tracks he was, artificial and organic his gaze locked into one another. He didn't know why, but there was something funny about all of this, something oh-so funny that he couldn't help but giggle a little, then a little more, then a little more, until the man was barely controlling his maniacal laugh that lasted for a good minute before slowly calming down.

"... Ah... That was the best laugh I had in... ever..."

There was a hint of hope in the Synth eyes, it was a bit hectic, but still the best reaction he got out of the human so far.

"... Now get lost."

His words were final, as they always were when their conversation ended. The organic made his way back to the couch, it was the cue for the support unit to leave, and yet...

"No."

This was the second surprise of the day.

"... Care to rephrase that?"

"I..." A brief hesitation "You... You need help, I can't leave you, I-I won't leave you!"

As the figure turned back, the Synth photo-receptors couldn't detect any fury left in his eyes, only what the Synth database could interpret as cold emptiness, piercing behind the thin crust of spent emotional turmoil that badly covered the truth, it was time to get sincere.

"Let's be real, FL-8, you're still locked with your basic appearance parameters. Don't act surprised, I know your model customizes itself to reflect the taste of the person you're talking to. And you're still stuck to factory settings, you haven't even told me your name after all these years... Truth is, you're the saddest-looking FL-8 model that anyone has ever seen right now."

The organic took a step forward, somehow even more unblinking than the artificial.

"... And you know why? Because you know nothing about me, and it's not going to change any time soon. Move to something more useful, and leave me to rot, because I won't listen to you anymore. Goodbye, FL-8."

The man said nothing more before moving back to his couch, content to watch the ceiling until the interloper left. In the meantime though the Synth's database and processors were scrambling to formulate an appropriate emotional response.

Only two milliseconds later, he ran out of options. Desperate to find something, anything, that could save the human, the artificial lizard blurted out the only thing that could elicit a reaction anymore.

"I-I saw your file, and read it."

That got a kick out of the figure, who bolted right up. Eyes deadlocked on the reptilian figure, there was surprise, shock maybe even.

"...You did what?"

Okay there was anger again, but worse than that, betrayal. The human former fury had been harmless, FL-8 knew that by now. But that reaction, that was unpredictable, and a little concerning.

"It was a personal initiative I swear! I was trying to find something, anything to reach out to you! But I understand if you disagree with..."

"Activate protocol 9."

Instantly, the artificial lifeform froze still, hard-coded reactions taking over free will to answer any question an organic could ask to the best of his capacity. Never before had someone ever used it on him, the suddenness of his consciousness being overridden and put on hold had to be the worst sensation he'd ever felt as his body answered in the most neutral voice.

"What do you want to know?"

"How do I convince you to leave me alone for good?"

Powerless and stripped of his freedom, FL-8 clawed from the inside of his own brain, gasping for control, for something, anything! After some struggling in his own mental cell, the Synth managed to bypass some of the fail-safe briefly and desperately tried to explain.

"No stop this! you don't understand! I only wanted to As of now, the moral compass of this unit prevents such endeavors, if you can present a suitable enough replacement as a mental health provider, organic or artificial then it will no longer feel the need to provide assistance."

There was an awkward moment of silence, the silent cries of the Synth going unheard, before letting out the release command.

"That will be all thank you."

The support unit suddenly regained control of his system and took the robotic equivalent of a deep breath. As his emotional processor interpreted the great inner distress and generated the proper body responses, the artificial reptile left without another word, shaking in his very core.

Meanwhile the man stared at his ceiling once again, but he wasn't going to wait idly anymore, for once in an eternity he had found something to do.

So... A week, he had a week before FL-8 came back, there was no doubt about it, and if anything, their confrontation had just steeled the Synth resolve even more, of that he was certain too.

Come to think of it though, he actually didn't have to close the case for next week, the artificial lizard could just be dismissed as usual and...

... No, there was no turning back after knowing what the Synth did. He needed him gone, forever, there were thresholds that were never supposed to be crossed. Like accessing someone's file before their death, even for a greater good, _especially_for the greater good.

Every moment, every aspect of one's life, actions, even every thought for those with neural cybernetic implant. All recorded, archived from the fully connected environment around them. Hell, you might even be able to create a digital copy of oneself with such extensive information.

He could still remember, clear as day, the justification, the endless debates for keeping them up after the fall of The Conductor. A gift for future generations some had argued, the ability to ensure the past would never be forgotten, or lost. Digitized immortality a few even said, no more victim of the anonymous void of History. As long as they weren't... misused again.

And now the Synth knew, every little past move of his, every secret... or at least the general gist of it, recorded into the Synth memory by now. This definitely included what had happened, all that transpired near the end...

...

... No, that wasn't all, the pity in the artificial voice, it still made his ears ring, like a slow burn on one's memory. He wanted none of that, never again! Not from him! Not from another FL-8! not from another Synth! not from anybody! It would just be the beginning, all the little things he had ever done, picked apart, judge_d again._Like, like...

The person sulked for a second, well, he sulked mentally, no point in sulking physically in a place only him and FL-8 visited...

No! Bad! Focus! Got to think about how getting rid of him! What in the world could be a "suitable replacement" anyway? Calling another Synth in was... just inviting more problems really, another human person would be an option, but they most likely wouldn't want to come all the way here just to keep company.

So, back to square one... a pet perhaps? Something that gets attached to you in less than a week? Wait no he couldn't have one, he was still on the "don't touch any less-sentient organic" list. It all seemed hopeless...

Then it struck him, he didn't exactly _need_to find a replacement, only something that the FL-8 unit would judge suitable enough. It could very well be some barely sentient robot to make it feel like a presence, something that he could adjust to his liking, and deactivate after its purpose was complete.

Yes! Yes! Yes! That could work! But to obtain a blank state Synth and program it in such a way was... beyond difficult and it definitely involved going... Outside... He shuddered at the thought and buried it away, the further away possible.

This was the moment a well placed memory from his days of online wandering decided to bubble to the surface, not the most likely or safer plan, but at least the only thing necessary was a figurative shovel.

The man dusted off his online glasses, the sleek and elegant design hiding an almost indestructible piece of tech, but what wasn't impervious to human hands nowaday in this controlled environment? Durability and safety above all.

And to think that people once used _keyboards_and_mouses_to interact with the digitized world, that got a smile out of him. He had wondered about keeping his direct neurons-connected implants active, browsing the web with one's mind was cool after all. But there was a general distrust of brain chips after their... misguided use, and the man was no exception of that feeling.

Lazily swiping his seemingly human right hand in front of the glasses, the underneath bionic connected system immediately reacted and synchronized with the googles, finger movements serving as an interface between his intent and the glasses. This was one of the few good things that came out of the... Unfortunate chain of event. Just got to rewind his favorites a bit and...

Ah yes, felt like he never left the place, there was some timeless design after all, or maybe nostalgia truly was the most powerful engine of the human condition. A simple anonymous image board that got out of proportion, although it was the third iteration of the genre. It's just that the community of the Web Wild West never truly died, just relocated, despite all the effort that could be spent on shutting them down.

Here people truly were creative, if you could find the pearl in the ocean of trash that is. But even so the recurrent pattern became... boring, and repetitive after a while, not worth the efforts. However there was a certain something the man was searching for, down in the Synth-tinkering section. Glossing over the usual three threads long argument on the very morality of this section he found...

Not online yet uh? He'd just have to wait for the right thread by a very specific individual to pop up.

16 hours later finally, while reading another bait thread about why was Kosdec corporation still standing after yet another body-mod scandal, the Ysol-Synth line thread edition 4629 went up. That peculiar line of Synth was a living urban legend and a rare sight, only a very few number, probably under three digits, may be roaming the whole galaxy. They worked in mysterious ways and had very uh... strange_purposes, at least when you began deciphering the blueprints carefully. Like, who designed Synths that could _bleed?

If they ever existed that is...

At least there was no doubt that they all came from the same person, they all shared the same... let say _ambiguous_designs, they clearly were some form of advanced sexbots, despite their creator loudly claiming the contrary at every opportunity.

Speaking of the devil, the mysterious R-54, who were a myth in themselves, behind such a simple alias rested a true mystery that nobody, even hyper-advanced dematerialized AI, could catch. Even more disturbing was that they were considered completely impossible to manufacture. Many had tried their luck piercing the secrets of the intricate blueprints without result so far, when they weren't called out for 'breaking the rule of physics'.

As such the creator, according to their own word, 'delivered', some of them from time to time, only for 'interesting cases' however.

Yes, it could, and most likely was, either mad gibberish or a very elaborate hoax. For the man though, they probably were his only hope. He sent a request for a private chat to the person that currently claimed the title of R-54 with his motives, hoping to catch their attention. The next ten minutes went at an agonizingly slow pace before the chat window lighted up.

Tensed like he had never remembered to be, he waited no more seconds and opened the window. Time to strike a conversation with a perfect stranger, in a dry, plain and frankly primitive chatbox.

R-54: Such a peculiar demand...

Anonymous: Well, I know you do like a challenge.

R-54: Perhaps, you don't look like another would-be scammer, you seem oddly... genuine.

Anonymous: I sure am. I really really need your sexbot for what I'm willing send you.

R-54: They're not sexbot, however you do seem to like the impractically convoluted.

Anonymous: I have no other choice, I am living in a very, very remote location.

R-54: Yes, that's what your file indicates.

The man froze an instant, hand above the digital keyboard that only the human could see, surely that guy was speaking about a personal compilation he had the time to gather in the then previous minutes about him. Which include his location, that wasn't hidden as far as he knew, there was no way they could be talking about _that_file.

R-54: You also have quite the reason not to frolic outdoors, it's impressive really.

Something in his gut moved backwards, or at least that how it felt.

R-54: I don't exactly agree with your request though, the model you demand... Bothers me...

Anonymous: How so?

R-54: It's not mine, not exactly at least, someone tried to fix it...

That... how were you supposed to answer that? His choice was something from an old thread that didn't look as ridiculous as the other with what looked like genuine coherent design. Fortunately R-54 broke the silence first.

R-54: However I'm feeling generous right now, so I'll indulge your little fancies.

Anonymous: Good, how long until it gets delivered?

R-54: Delivered? I'm not a postal service, the product will be manufactured at home.

Anonymous: What? I don't have the infrastructure to produce a whole Synth by myself!

R-54: Don't worry about that, my assistant just needs a little bit of space to install the printer.

Were they talking about installing a whole industrial 3D printer here? This was insane!

Anonymous: I don't think I have enough space for such machinery!

R-54: I think your living room might just fit, if we push the furniture a bit.

Ok, this was seriously creeping him out now, how did he know about his living room layout?

R-54: Just a conjecture though, I might need to take a look myself.

Anonymous: Fat chance, the only camera in there is in my glasses, perhaps I could send you something.

R-54: That won't be necessary, just get up and don't turn around.

This was getting stupider by the seconds...

R-54: You want your solution or not?

Anonymous: ... Yes?

R-54: Then get up, and remember, no peeking ;)

Seriously disturbed, the man stood up, never before had his isolation dawned so hard on him as he felt a beginning of anxiety build up. What was behind him? Thin air, yeah, definitely, he would have been notified if someone got in, just what insane game were they playing then? He was alone and the next visitor wouldn't be here until the next week, if only...

R-54: Done.

He flipped back immediately... Only to find a very normal looking wall, and the panicked gaze of his reflection on the pristine wall-mirror hanging there.

R-54: Haha I bet you turned back! I love fucking with people like you.

Anonymous: Very funny.

R-54: It's not like the plan of your house is easily downloadable or anything...

The man was done playing these little games, and paid no more attention to the teasing.

R-54: Anyway, everything should fit, it'll be a bit tight but my assistant can arrange it.

Anonymous: That's what she said!

R-54: ...

Anonymous: You don't laugh very often do you?

Then a knock on his door, hold on a second...

R-54: Ah! that would be my assistant. He doesn't need to knock really but he's just polite like that.

Indeed the Synth that invited himself really had no need to be polite. Technically just a standard construction/heavy-lifting model, but the human just never saw one trying to fit into a living space. The lizard was a small model actually, only three meters tall at the very least but still could punch a wall down with ease, you didn't fuck around with these gentle giants.

Once the beefy artificial managed to barely squeeze through the door, the human saw behind the large lizard's large frame a variety of material and industrial-looking parts lying around, in his backyard near an opened portal. The organic blinked several times, portal establishing devices were a rarity, just how powerful was that R-54 person exactly?

"Hello" said the deep-voiced Synth in a friendly tone with his booming, deep, voice before getting to work, gently moving around furniture without much efforts to make space

R-54: Now while SL-17 does his thing, we may as well talk about the details.

The human blinked again in confusion, trying to refocus his attention on his glasses and the conversation.

R-54: You see, there's a lot of physical detail and programming we have to tackle.

Anonymous: Wait, we don't exactly need to, it's just going to be a decoy in the end.

R-54: I take great care and pride in making state-of-the-art Synthetic lifeforms I would have you know. I don't just 'do decoys'.

Anonymous: Okay...

R-54: Beside, it needs to stand up if you want to appear convincing to another high tech Synth.

Anonymous: Right... As long as I can dispose of it afterward.

R-54: Not to worry, you'll have all the control that you want over it, so let's sit down and talk shall we?

Anonymous: Why can't the Synth do it in the end though? Or even you? Can't you send a signal or something?

R-54: I'm not leaving any breadcrumbs that could lead to me, and SL-17 doesn't have the credentials.

Anonymous: And? You can open a portal straight to my garden but not go around Synth restrictions?

R-54: He has hard-coded built-in fail-safe protocols that forbid him to build another Synth alone. I will not risk the integrity of his system for you, or for anyone else.

Anonymous: Uh... that's an industrial-graded printer though, that I don't know how to use.

R-54: He doesn't either for that matter, anyway you'll just have to download the instructions in your hand.

Anonymous: You can make my hand download stuff?

R-54: And much more! Just let it hover the control panel and your finger will do the job for you.

The human received a link for an unknown-unidentified file, whose content couldn't be analyzed properly. There was a moment of hesitation, but he was already too deep in to back down now. While downloading, the organic finally noticed the lack of sound from the Synth construction site, refocusing his gaze beyond the chatbox he discovered a lack of SL-17 and the machine in all its glory.

It barely fit in the "3D printer" definition anymore to be honest. The vast main metallic platform was surrounded by wires, tubes and a multitude of pure robotic arms. Capable of the most precise of movement who shared the space with a mini-assembly line and what seemed like dispensers. probably for the weird elastic-soft material that made up the most of a Synth skin. Lots of tools, from the familiar to the unknown, stood lifeless at the end of metal arms. Some disjointed parts of the Synth were already sitting there, the face-plate for example that he examined distractedly.

He would lie to himself if it didn't sound at least a little surreal, seeing that imposing piece of industrial equipment in his living room.

R-54: Place your palm in the slot to begin the manufacturing process then follow its instructions.

The man did as ordered, placing his artificial hand in the palm slot and the whole machinery slowly but surely sparked up to life. Following the procedure, the would-be operator hovered his cybernetics over the control panel, and admittedly, it was a bit unsettling seeing the fingers move by themselves without any input from his brain. Thankfully it didn't last long and soon he could see, and hear, the gears going live and...

And...

Anonymous: Nothing's happening.

R-54: Then you haven't completed the setup, follow the instructions, there must be some left.

Indeed! One of his fingers was pointing towards the large platform, curious, he hovered his hand over, the finger pointed downwards, what? Why would he need to...

He was overthinking this again, so far it had worked so better end it quickly, even if it meant following dumb hand ord-

What the hell? His fingertip was stuck to the platform, and no amount of force could detach it! Suddenly his whole hand shivered before the entire prosthetic slammed down on the metallic surface, definitely even more stuck now.

R-54: Oh by the way, I should have warned you but the slot magnetizes everything :)

"Oh you didn't..."

R-54: A shame you never had the curiosity to ask about the special something that made the Ysol line so unique... Even my detractors admit it, the level of, and I quote: "unnecessary finesse" I can reach with only a 3D printer is pretty impressive. Especially since technically there's only so much this kind of tool can do. However I have no merit really, it all comes down to the best choice of mold.

He needed to get his hand off that booby trap right now! But the hand wasn't only stuck, but completely unresponsive!

R-54: You weren't very nice to that poor FL-8 by the way, he's only trying to help, you know? Out of the goodness of his heart :D

"The sick joker! So they did read my freaking file!"

R-54: But I understand you in a way, lost in a world of infinite possibilities, not everybody can wrap their head around it, and after that... Tragedy, you cut yourself from everything, not without reasons mind you. No one could handle the abject that was inflicted on you, so you decided to lie down, and slowly all ceased to have meaning...

His worst fear was becoming reality again, only this time there was no protocol 9 to save him.

R-54: So I'll judge you, because _you_dread it, _you_cower at the thought that someone, anyone could see you in your sorry state and slap some reality back into your life and highlight how much a slug you've become. You went out of your way to ensure no one could, in that regard it was a really dump idea to reach out to me, because now I get to choose your sentence.

Nonononostopstopstopstop!

R-54: For intense self-harm and attempt of self-destruction I thereby sentence you to find new meaning. You won't die, you won't be tortured, I made sure of it, you'll only get a fresh start. Truly the best package you could ever want, even if you probably don't realize it yet.

A robotic arm grabbed him by the waist and pulled him whole on the platform, firm and unyielding in its hold.

R-54: Don't worry, it won't be that different. Everyone assumes these days that flesh should emulate steel, when frankly, I think there's beauty to be found the other way around too.

Something stinged in his brain, like a little electric shock, did the brain implant just reactivate? But that was impossible without his input!

With the chip inside of his skull and the goggles still synchronized as well, the man could see the constant string of data being uploaded directly next to his brain, and it was nothing short of concerning. While his eyes were trying to make sense of the mess, the captive failed to notice two smaller robotic arms getting a grip of his clothing and cleanly ripped them apart without a single shred of fabric left.

Of course the only thing he could do was curse at the unexpected and unwarranted exposure, but the man was more concerned by the swarm of smaller arms grabbing him. Locking down all his joints, and leaving him virtually glued to the metallic surface, incapable of moving even an inch.

R-54: First of course we must ensure that the sentence will be harsh, but not cruel.

Something moved right behind his head and there was another sharp sting in his neck... a sting that nearly immediately dissipated, he could still feel that something had pricked him, just not the pain that was supposed to come with it.

R-54: Now though, the fun begins...

Another sting, painless now, still on the neck, but it wasn't a painkiller this time. It was something else, something that was_moving upwards_while trickle of something else still entered his bloodstream, something that had the decency not to move on its own accord at least. Rightfully alarmed, the human tried to struggle against his bounds, to no avail.

R-54: I advise staying as still as possible from now on, having your brain matter converted into synthetic neurons by nanites is a... disorienting process, or so I've heard.

In fact, disorienting was the weakest word possible to describe what happened next, as millions and millions of neural paths were severed by invisible machines, each neuron rearranged. The process salvaged as much as possible and rebuilt with the liquid materials now floating in his bloodstream before getting reconnected with the whole.

His mind meanwhile felt... weird, lost coherence, censor inputs snuffed and restored multiple times, he forgot how to speak at one point, pretty sure that the heart stopped beating for an instant... Ancient memories were revived, clear as day before falling back into irrelevance, newer one escaping his grasp like flies, so obvious, yet impossible to find. Without the binds he probably would have spasmed uncontrollably.

When the storm calmed down, it left him... clearer, clearer than he had ever been in fact, and the thoughts they just... Went... Faster? This was exceptionally weird to comprehend, it felt like he could process unfathomable equations in an instant.

"W-what happ..."

R-54: Congratulations! you're now one of the very few to possess the complexity and flexibility of the most powerful organic computer to ever exist with the processing power of a synthetic supercomputer! Lucky you!

This really wasn't his day wasn't it? What in the world was he supposed to do with that... inorganic brain now?!

R-54: This was the trickiest part though, I'm afraid the rest will be pretty straightforward

What, how could the rest of... whatever was happening right now be "straightforward?"

R-54: By the way, did you know that I can hear you think now?

Oh really?

R-54: Yes.

May I suggest that you GET OUT OF MY BRAIN?

R-54: Nah.

More noise, all around, something was converging on him, and from the corner of his eye he saw a new kind of swarm, holding plastic tubes this time. It wasn't long before both arms and legs were punctured by the pests. This couldn't be good...

R-54: I'd say that is a matter of opinion.

Soon enough a flow of gray particles and another gray fluid were pumped straight up into his veins and the process began anew. Nerves turned synthetic, vessels of all kinds were repurposed into tubes, the skin lost most of its layers and replaced by some sort of thin coat of polymer while muscle and tendons found themselves converted into pneumatic mass.

The systemic approach of the nanobots was relentless and unwavering, in mere minutes the unending flow had rearranged as much as possible every single cell they could get their nano-arms into into artificial equivalents. The rest like hairs, the marrow of his bone and others were swiftly evacuated into a sucking tube that literally pumped the organic out of him.

Yet all of this felt... normal, his new brain couldn't register anything out of the ordinary from his changing limbs, just a normal day in the great and delicate human machinery, maybe it tickled a bit by moment? Maybe it was just normal?

The printer had other plans for him however, as the modified skin on all limbs was ripped open by robotic scalpels with surgical precision. Exposing to the world the marvel of biotechnology his arms and legs had become. Not wasting more time, multiple tiny dispensers rushed him down, positioning themselves over the organic bone and let out a flow of gray-blue liquid inside the hollowed shells. The metallic fluid filled the empty space fast as the calcium-based crust was eroded away by the combined efforts of the nano-swarm. The quickly hardening new skeleton was then fused and reconnected to each-other and to the synthetic tendons as well.

Finally, the polymer was stitched back together as four, way bigger, dispensers hovered over the new limbs. Methodically spitting out trails of yet another thick black fluid that the polymer-based skin apparently was really thirsty for! Absorbing it like a sponge until it formed a uniformed barely thicker but solid black layer of... whatever this combination was.

He could feel the nanobots working to properly connect his new nerves with the latex-like layer. A striking realization soon took over all other concerns however, the amorphous limbs after losing a lot of defining features were just not responding!

"I'm stuck!"

R-54: Of course you are.

It took him a minute to understand. "No! I mean... I can't move anything even if you didn't hold me trapped!"

R-54: Don't you worry, it won't last, by the way you won't be needing all that organic stuff soon so...

Without warning, all the tubes loudly turned into vacuum mode, and all of his bodily fluid were sucked out in seconds, for a brief moment there was... a moment of speechless floating, an apnea-like state of shock. Then the machinery roared and liters upon liters of different artificial fluids were pumped back into his everything, serving mostly the same purposes as their organic predecessor.

"You could have warned me!" He protested, recovering from the shock

R-54: If you really were keen on warning you wouldn't be in this situation right now. But perhaps I could warn you about this incoming... life-changing part.

And life-changing it was! Rushing down from all the other limbs, the nano-swarm crashed down on everything organic left below the neck. This time around however the procedure went... somewhere else, it was a good thing for the poor almost-synthetic man never got to peek at his insides when the polymer skin was cut open. Most organs were undergoing a pure and simple dismantlement, their resources recycled and their cells extracted for new purposes.

Few people in history experienced the sensation of vital organ removal under the pain, but oh lucky was he to have the privilege of experiencing it all. It definitely raised alarms in most of his artificial brain as it tried to order all sorts of meat-living functions, and never got any response. Why was there a special signal for "Where's my pancreas?" or "Has anybody seen my guts?", mostly felt like itch you couldn't scratch... only cranked up to a thousand.

But that wasn't all, there was a point of nanite concentration, but they weren't even doing anything, only accumulating, where exactly where they... oh no.

R-54: Now this is one of my favorites! It cracks me up, every, single, time :D

It was brief, but oh-so intense, everything in his groin flared up in an instant, not a single nerve was spared from the onslaught. In this situation the disappearance of most of the equipment itself and its disposal went completely unnoticed, except for one detail, the only repurposed cells that were relocated upward, in the middle of nowhere.

R-54: Don't worry, it's a surprise tool that will help us later ;)

The uh... Not-so-manly-man anymore couldn't muster anything to answer, brain still fried by what felt like the worse and best moment of his sex-life so far. Meanwhile the small assembly line finally geared up, modeling the displaced artificial cells into new biotechnological organs around the few pieces of complex mechanism that the nanites couldn't produce themselves.

Still reeling from the outburst, he could only briefly see the new vitals in the corner of his eyes before they were shoved inside. Not even daring to guess their purpose though as even more tiny arms worked on connecting them with the whole. Then there was a click in his brain and somehow he just _knew_that 'Vital systems' were 'Operational and online' right as the former organic trunk was put back together as the same featureless black skin enveloped it.

R-54: Well, now that the technicalities are out of the way, I suppose I should continue to warn you, the second step won't be... as tame as this one. Overall though, I've never got bad returns in the end.

"Do you ever shut up?" he asked out of pure annoyance, and what little spite was left in him.

R-54: Now that's a funny thing to ask, can you believe I'm nearly a mute?

Somehow no, he couldn't.

R-54: Far, very very far, from the chatty type. But the web just has this magical property of giving everyone a voice and a blind confidence on your own eloquence. Anyway I'll get back to you in a minute.

Right after this declaration his glasses were taken away, all active nano-units now converging along his neck, slowly converting everything as they went up. That didn't faze the nearly-synthetic though, cause right now there was a bigger concern, like that slowly descending face-plate heading for his head. Somehow he knew this thing represented a point of no return, not that normalcy was still to be expected by now anyway.

He should have yelled, cursed, tried to fight back, to refuse the inevitable to the end...

But he had already been defeated, crushed the moment his hand touched that accursed platform, and all he could do now was accepting his fate in silent rage and resignation. The face-plate clicked in place as his face was eroded away beneath, all went dark, then dark went to nothingness...

>Booting up safe mode... successful.

>Connection established, 1 user found.

>Interface issue detected, neural hardware pattern incompatible with basic Ysol software, correcting...

>Issue corrected, converting all conflicting files...

>Harmonizing personality matrix with all systems... successful.

>Restarting in normal mode.

They blinked, except it didn't feel like blinking, no eyelid-closing sensation. Visitor settings were set on 'human-like', didn't know why or how but they knew, it just happened to be so. Face felt different, but not so bad right, in fact it was the only place feeling okay-ish, the rest however...

• Hello

Hello

• You must be very confused, yes?

Yes, what's happening?

• Well, your neural network had to be slightly rearranged, there's nothing organic left now.

Oh...

• Don't fret though! I know most of your systems are screaming at you that everything's wrong right now but let's just boot up your personality matrix real quick...

The dots quite literally reconnected and...

Fuck, you.

• Now that's not nice to say, you're lucky I don't censor curses.

I'll think whatever THE FUCK, I want! Get your words out of my head!

• If that can make you happy... but you're probably feeling like absolute trash right now, aren't you?

I... Yes...

• That might be because your systems are trying to reach out to a lot of things that don't exist, like your skin. As a result you're stuck as a lifeless, unmovable blob of parts. You still want me to leave?

N-no... not like that.

• All you have to do is to say the magic word ~

Five long minutes passed, the necessary time for his pride to fiddle away against the horror of his situation.

Just... just fix it, please...

-As you wish.

Maybe there were sounds, but lacking the proper listening device his world was mute. The featureless 'head' was propped up by a pincer and a very distinctive mold-helmet that went down to the neck was slammed down and properly sealed itself. A distinct signal was sent from the printer and all the synthetic cells inside were sent into replication overdrive until they began stretching their black casing against the mold.

The man turned AI felt every second of it this time, the elongation of his former face into a segmented, detailed muzzle while two horn-like appendices grew on top as the neck lengthened into less-than-human proportions, segmenting even more long the way into a complex articulated system.

Even inside, the nanites themselves weren't left inactive, pushing liquid bones, pneumatic materials, circulatory and nervous systems to expand as well. Filling every single new inch of space in an ordinary manner, even assembling a new glowing artificial tongue!

The worst of it though? It all felt amazing, signals finally being fulfilled, answers given, computed, answered, communication, life! Even if a synthetic one, finally spreading! At last things were_working as they should be_, no more distress signals, just the bliss of a working, functioning system.

It wasn't done however, far from it, as the mold was unsealed and segmented plates of alloys were swiftly fixed upon the modular chassis. First a very thin layer of pressure-temperature sensitive material, bricked on a molecular level with the black polymer and quickly connected to the 'living' parts underneath. All protected by a semi-soft tactile, ultra-resilient and colored plastic skin.

With the final parts embedded, a safeguard was at last lifted in his head.

> Upper syste1ms functional, lifting restrictions.

An urge! Overwhelming! Bypassing every single one of his conscious protocols! Another bliss of satisfaction went through his head as he took a large breath, probably the largest in his life so far, filling the artificial lungs and pulling on his new robotic joints, movement! At last!

"I..."

He slammed shut his reptile-looking jaw for an instant, this wasn't no voice emulator, that was actual artificial vocal cords! And a muzzle! He had a whole muzzle!

• You're the most observant Synth I ever had the pleasure to design!

Oh come on, I couldn't even be human looking?

• Sorry but I don't do humans, organic or otherwise.

As much as he wanted to complain, most of his body was still harassing his mind with error messages and, as the bliss dissipated, the general uneasiness returned, in full force. It didn't take long for his general desire for retaining the mere scraps of humanity left to be surpassed by the need to be _complete,_it couldn't be that different, right?

His silent approval given, the printer roared back in action, a large tube plugging itself into a brand new port at the base of his neck. Flooding his system with the necessary energy and materials to feed the adaptation.

It mattered not that the 'molding' of his torso and arms bore little difference from their previous state. As there was little that he could care for at the moment, his brain was fully occupied on losing coherence in artificial delight and all that.

"More..." he stated softly at first without even realizing it, as the left arm gained back form and purpose.

"More!" he cried out, as his right hand and fingers reformed, in a very similar, but very synthetic fashion.

"MORE!" he shouted as his torso went live! Every system underneath he could feel the new machinery awakening, filling so many failures in his system!

>Middle systems functional, lifting restrictions.

This time the process didn't even wait for his clear approval and interpreted the intense moaning of pleasure as confirmation. A large pincer grasped the messy pile of artificial parts, still lost in sensation overload, by the waist and pulled upwards, slightly hovering him over the platform.

Barely recovering from the last blast, the AI cooed in delight when his legs were entrapped as well, so many critical errors coming from down there after all!

He suddenly tensed up, confused eyes flashing in his visors, did... did something just 'click' and locked itself at the base of his spine? Unbeknownst to his very limited awareness until now, the printer had been working on some normal printing for once.

Especially on the full exterior casing of a respectably-sized Synth tail, all just inserted in the T-port at the junction between buttocks and spine. But there was no way his body could fill so much space at a microscopic level! Surely this was some kind of 'normal' Synth parts or something less... organic-emulating, right?

• Wrong.

> Cell reproduction limit lifted for: 45 seconds

BZZT

Some form of electrical shudder racked his body, this probably wasn't goo...

• You know what? I'll give you a treat since you're enjoying yourself so much.

> Sensory inhibitors offline, max sensory value temporary set to 99999999.

Just how many 9s was that? Was his last dumb though before more errors showed up to his distress, something about 'stabilization peripheral T incomplete, he was supposed to get less of them! Not more! And then something pushed.

No one was ever prepared for the sensation of having a tail grow while their leg shifted from plantigrade to digitigrade, almost like nature didn't intend on this, but they were well beyond that now. In a last ditch effort to prevent brain-frying catastrophe, his security system reduced communication from continuous to intermittent.

First pulse of data, cells flooding the empty space, thighs thickening. Failure of noise production apparatus, output corrupted...

Second pulse of data, nano-frenzy engaged, leg length and internal structure at 95%. Critical malfunction of visor emotional display feature...

Third pulse of data, calibration of all systems on stabilization peripheral T... ready. Calibration test of modified pneumatic and frame structure... ready. Error, critical sensory overflow, reactivating sensory inhibitors, suppressing...

> Bottom systems functional, lifting restriction.

Just like that the storm that had blown his mind away was gone while the pincer unceremoniously let go, its mission complete as he landed softly on six toes. Standing up, there was no mistaking the figure in front of the impeccable mural mirror, their cyan exterior clashing with the deep-blue underside running from the jaw to the palms, inner thighs and tail. Complemented with glowing but ever-shifting orange nipples and horns that curiously resembled some miniature antlers.

> Ysol-Q unit operational

He was Synth.

He was Synth and surprisingly okay with it, at least right now. Maybe the information hadn't sunken in yet, too surreal maybe? Part of a secret don't-freak-out ingrained protocol perhaps? In a way this was just the jump ahead of cybernetics.

Anyway he only had to...

• And where do you think you're going, mister?

A robotic arm grabbed the newborn Synth by the wrist as he tried to make his way out of the platform.

• We're not done yet after all.

"Come. on. Let. go. of. me!" he pleaded, his voice now a strange blend of synthetic that tried really hard to match organic, or was it the other way around? trying to wrestle away to no avail, the grip far more stronger than his, even now.

"What sick joke do you still have in store? I'm no longer human and somehow I'm almost sure I can still get tumors!"

• Only if you teleport too often! Still have to patch that out at some point... Anything else you have to report?

"Ah! As if I wanted to tell you anything right now!"

• It was just courtesy, I still have access to all your systems status and...

A literal drum roll sound effect resonated in his brain.

• Congrats! I would stamp you with a seal of quality if I could, or had one.

"Yeah I'll pass on that... At least I don't have that overwhelming directive to be friendly."

• Guess you'll just have to remember that murder is bad :P

"Delightful..." he answered with the least delighted tone ever "...Yeah..." something was bugging him, thinking felt like well... thinking, and existing also felt like existing... Wasn't there supposed to be something more?

"Hold on, I can't access all of my systems or data at will? Why not?!"

• That's what makes you singular! Organics don't have to consciously regulate their own machinery at all times! You wouldn't think the same way if you could grab anything from your memory at all times or had a say in the way your organs work... To mimic flesh also means to include its shortcomings!

"Oh really? I don't really feel 'organic' at all right now!" he answered with obvious sarcasm.

• Weren't you told in school that organic life is just a biological form of machinery? In your case if you were to pick up a microscope then zoom on yourself you wouldn't really see a difference I assure you. Enough chit chat anyway, you're not yet up to top standards of a Ysol unit!

The Synth was about to ask whatever they meant by that, when another robotic limb went live and stopped right in front of him, holding a very, very, conspicuous and high-tech looking tool.

"Is... is that a drill?"

• You never cease to amaze me.

"Fuck you! You're not the one getting held at drillpoint by suspicious industrial machinery! And the head of that drill looks like nothing that has any right to exist!"

• I got a chuckle out of that, and of the irony, now comes_my very favorite part_."

With the participation of some more robotic arms, he was once again held still against his will, this was getting old... Surely his _ creator _couldn't wish more harm that he already did...

There was some Synth blinking, R-54 couldn't be his creator, all that deranged eccentric ever did was trickery and deception! A true_ creator _! No... That's not what he wanted to think! When did that happen?! They said they hadn't censored this unit!

• Well I still must sign my work, you'll get over it, eventually. Good thing you distracted yourself though!

The newborn never got the chance to ponder these words as the spinning tool pierced his featureless groin without a sound. There should have been deep excruciating pain as his skin layers were pierced, but there wasn't any of that. Why? There wasn't even a single warning, message or anything, in fact not a single cell had died while there clearly was a hole forming down there!

Then he understood, the strange head, the lack of pain. It wasn't drilling_per say_, but a way to mold the interior by emitting at a certain frequency, ordering the cells around to push themselves around it. If only that part of his body wasn't so sensitive for some reason, there was at least twice, or even thrice the number of nerves down there, and they were doing their job just fine at the moment.

At last the drill head finished his insertion in full, now dead silent leaving the Synth still as confused. Just what was happening?

As if reading his mind, the tool end transmitted something else, something different, affecting not only it's immediate surroundings but making its way all the way in his processor and...

> Mainframe mod downloaded, beginning installation.

If there was one thing he had learned so far, it's that there was no good surprise with this kind of news, what was that all about anyhow? The Synth asked himself while browsing his primary files, nope, not that, neither, what was that doing here? Here! Blueprints! Was that... you've got to be joking...

There was no mistake though, multiple familiar errors popped up, something was missing now, and that had to be_corrected_.

He tried to resist this time, for real, but when his attention redirected downwards it was already too late, the first lines of affected cells had already reconverted into a pseudo-mucous membrane. It wasn't the first time, there were many others around in his body, just not one right here, and so... responsive.

There was no doubt about what it was, or what was about to unfold, especially after seeing what was on the blueprints. More and more cells made way above the drill head, leaving very distinctive empty space before specializing into more and more sensitive tissues. It itched! It physically itched! So much itching!

"No... That's not... fair..."

The synthetic lifeforms desperately struggled one last time against the bound, something had to be done, less he would fall into madness! Uterine tubes forked from the forming womb, growing and growing until they reached... he was tired of asking himself that question, but what was that?

• The surprise tool that helps us now ;)

Ovaries, forming from his previously converted organic nutsack! And they were filled already, this was madness! Synths didn't reproduce like that! Th-they manufactured each other! How were they ever supposed to...

• You ask too many questions.

With deliberate slowness, the drill began to retract from its prison. No! Not like this! This could be fixed! Surely it was! That accursed head only needed to stay inside and he could find a way to order the reverse!

Even heavily restrained, the Ysol-Q model still managed to clamp down with all power possible on the damn tool. The _ creator _sent another message, a threat maybe but it was disregarded, all the focus, all the intensity was on the thing trapped between his legs!

> Sensitivity module adjusted, beginning test.

What?! How?! Who did thaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

The trapped Synth unfortunately had failed to notice the formation of fully, very functional and slightly glowing labia as well as the distraction it could provide. A sudden shudder of pleasure and concentration slipped in an instant, providing the trapped instrument its way out.

A latch ditch effort was thrown to contain it, however it was too little too late. The vagina-shaped tool took its sweet time meanwhile, triggering almost, if not all, sensory detectors, wracking the newly modded Synth in a new kind of pleasure that nothing could have prepared him for.

This was too big! It couldn't possibly fit through that gap! thought the desperate artificial lizard in denial. All illusions were soon shattered with a wet "POP" and the most intense wave of pleasure combined with the dopamine substitute reward for error fixing overwhelmed him, leaving one quivering mess of a Synth behind.

> Gender locked: female

Ever obedient, the mechanical arms retreated again, leaving the unit to immediately collapse on her knee. Composure was a thing of the past by now, as the synthetic lizard tried to finally make her way out, far from that... dastardly mechanism, before, before...

Too late, and it's not that she could have evaded it anyway, alarms flashed behind her synthetic eyes, something was terribly wrong, it needed fixing, immediately. System errors piled up, unwavering, relentless. The worst was knowing that eventually her resistance would crumble, and without surprise in mere minutes the Synth found herself unable to handle it anymore, she didn't really want any of this in the first place but... Why was any of this happening to her in the first place? She was contend to live her life and...

• Seriously now? Even I wouldn't tell that big a lie... But since you need someone to hammer it for you then I guess I'll do it. No, you weren't "contend to live your life", your existence was shit, an empty void, droning out until you couldn't handle it anymore and tried to literally bore yourself to death.

"I didn't ask for your opinion, only your services! And you fucked me over!"

• I'm not finished!

• Your self-destructive attitude even made you hurt the last being that still cared a little about your well-being. The reason I'm going all out to give you an 180° turn in life and didn't simply ignore the lazy pile of human cells that you were was because I saw your past record and decided that despite your pitiful pettiness you deserved a second chance, even if it seems a little... contrived, at times. You're simply dragging this out unnecessarily.

Really? They were expecting her to believe that? A-after all their trickery! Their deceptions! Their... Their...

No, as much as she hated to admit it, they were right. This whole... unnecessary ordeal she went through only to... to get rid of the last string holding her back. It had made her life feel... not as pointless as before. Sure it wasn't a life goal or something, but this definitely was an improvement from previously. Beside this also had been dragging on for too long now.

Getting to her knees once again, the Synth capitulated.

"Finish it already." she uttered at the stars.

Ysol-Q didn't care about the clear feminine pitch of her voice, a combination of higher and warmer, leaving the slightest aftertaste of sensuality. She didn't even fight, or even flinched when the thin tubes approached, connecting to small ports left unseen until now on her buttocks, thighs and breastplates.

What made her tick however was the flow of mass and weight-sensitive material being added to her own. Somehow this adaptation felt... more intense, and not only on a basic level. There was a deep rooted yet simple satisfaction of sensing her behind taking a very shapely form, noticeable, but not extravagant, the kind of made-your-gaze-linger-a-second-longer type of behind.

She wasn't exactly going to complain about the new muscle mass of these killer thighs too. Deceptively stronger than you'd expected, but you wouldn't mistake them for anything else then feminine, the kind_you_definitely wished was crossed behind your back as you plowed that tight artificial pussy and...

Wow, got ahead of herself a bit there didn't she? That modded body sure was messing with her head, but it was part of the design. Her will and thoughts as the intrinsic addition, blend and combination, of all signals the different parts of her body sent and computed. Steel emulating flesh down to the very core, a grand machinery directed by hundred if not thousands of input.

In a mix of lust and curiosity, the best kind of cocktail some argued, she cupped her growing breasts as they pushed and distorted her exterior platting. Oh yeah that was the _good_stuff, somehow soft and though at the same time, she could grope these babies all day long if she could, so sensitive, so desirable, so feminine...

"AaaAAaaaah..." she moaned loudly, "This has no right... to be so good..." was the only other thing she could think of, wishing to have more hands to get the first tactile impression everywhere at once as everything slowly settled down. Her breast finished swelling at last on a respectable C-size cup. Could they bounce? That was a question to be answered later.

The literal and figurative fulfillment over, all the glowing buttons in the lusty lizard head shut down, hopefully for good this time. Everything was finally as it should be and there was no mistaking the sensation rising up in her loins right now, just a little more and she'd...

> Error, climax protocol not found

...

What

• Well... you did ask for an "incomplete Synth" on the request after all, no refund by the way.

"I... you know what? Fine! I should have expected this by now anyway! so what's wrong, how can I fix it?"

• You're missing some code that you can somewhat function without, with some form of limited success. Shouldn't hamper your mental faculties though.

This was a little hard to swallow "Okay, okay, calm, I'm calm..." She took a moment to convince herself of that lie "... Now, how do I fix this?"

• Now here's the funny thing, you can't do that alone. What you need is a data transfer from another Synth unit, any will do and it's the only safe way to acquire that really basic universal stuff. Here, you should even get the necessary equipment in a moment.

And indeed the printer was already on the job, finishing the manufacture of very strange equipment pieces. The Ysol unit picked up the most singular and... wondered.

• What?

"That's a penis"

• The official term is 'artificial pleasure sharing multi-device connection rod', you put it on a male Synth and the gentlemen will resolve all your issues!

It wasn't a secret that Synth could in fact have sexual interactions, it made them more relatable and since_everything_needed to have a practical function in their design, they used it as a form of a more... intimate connection, but surely this wasn't the only possible way! She spotted something else.

"I... whatever, what are those though?"

• Standard issues Ysol-grade handles! Everybody loves the handles :D

"I do not love the standard issues Ysol-grade handles."

• Only because you hate fun!

There was no way she was putting these things on her chassis, even if they seemed complementary, removable at will if needed and could help that Synth brute to download his data into her in a complete mess of...

"Why am I still horny?"

• Hmm?

She let out an exasperated sigh. "My 'lust meter' is not going down!"

• Ah yes, I had to ensure that the gaping holes in you didn't drive you mad, but still affected you, so I compromised.

"Wh... But whyyyy?"

• Do I really need a reason?

They probably were having a field day tormenting her, wherever they were. However it's not that that kind of horny level would _also_drive her mad in time, but she had some holes that needed plugging and plugging asap. Making her way to the door with determination, the lust-filled lizard opened the way out with wits and nearly fell over as her own body pushed back against her will, refusing to exit the building.

Not without good reason though, as everything behind the door and as far as her sensor could go had become pure white nothingness.

> Critical error, three dimension computing algorithm missing.

"WHAT IS THAT!" The Synth screamed.

• That would be your missing parts acting up.

The unit tilted for an instant "B-but this is my own garden! I could paint a photo-realistic recreation of it on a canvas if I had one!"

• You're fortunate I uploaded your house layout in your brain or it would be... awkward.

"That... that's so bad! What do I do now?!"

• Yeah not the best situation, but don't worry, the printer can produce Synth-food and you have a gigantic user-manual to read to kill time. There's tons of good and interesting stuff in there after all!

"I'm literally TRAPPED, you idiot! How's that supposed to help me 'start my life anew' and all that bullshit!"

• No need to be rude! I believe you have a special someone that you need to apologize to and who's coming to check up on you in six days, surely he can take take of that problem for you ;D

"YOU FU-"

> Connection terminated

This was the first time the Flinder-8 unit hesitated in front of that door, hand on the handle as apprehension halted him. It was such a familiar place by now. If you were to ask him, it was a nice, if a little remote, spot. Some sort of secret garden, where nothing from the outside world could affect you. It probably was why the human had chosen it in the first place.

FL-8 wished there was another solution, but after their confrontation... he just couldn't take it anymore. Cold algorithms had clashed all week with his empathy emulator, and unfortunately both the algebra and the human were right, he could help more people by giving up on the saddest of them all.

Knowing that still didn't make him feel any better though, in fact the unit had never felt so bad in his entire existence than right now. Perhaps he could ask for a partial memory wipe later, the weight of this decision and the guilt coming with the clear remembrance of this failure was... Not appropriate for a caretaker, he had to appear strong and stable for all the people that needed his help.

All week he had his body language protocols disconnected from his personality matrix. For an instant the Synth pondered, then switched back to standards parameters, sick of playing pretend. He truly wanted to believe that the human had found a suitable replacement for him in the meantime, something that could replace and do a better job. Deep down however he highly doubted it, and as petty and cruel as the man was he deserved proper farewells. As the human was just an unfortunate lonely victim turned sours, the one case in millions that couldn't be helped... That's the least the synthetic life form could do for him, and for his own consciousness.

Still as clueless about some basic social conventions, the Synth opened the door without any warning. Inside the air was still as ever, for once it seems that his former patient wasn't in the living room. Weird, but not completely unusual.

"Sir! It's me, are you here?" the robotic lizard asked, no answer, again nothing out of the ordinary but there _was_something wrong, he just couldn't place his finger on what exactly.

For a moment the caretaker unit was worried that the human had found a way to end his life without triggering any alarm. Synchronizing briefly with the rest of the house, he quickly found relief, there was someone alive and around. Walking around the corner the Synth blinked several times at the sight, trying his best to compute it all.

Furniture had been moved around, and certainly not by the frail owner, the most worrying though was the giant industrial 3D printer just... sitting there. How did that get in here? Even worse, why was its data entirely encrypted? All files were inaccessible, and definitely beyond the reach of a simple unit like him.

"Sir..." he began, worry leaking in his tone "I don't know what happened, but I think we need to talk." Just what had that depressed self-destructive case done?

Approaching the device, FL-8 noticed something resting it, something somehow even stranger, was that... an APSM-DCR? What was that thing doing here? Sure it had been printed probably, but why?

Deep in his own processing, the newcomer never got a chance to notice the shadow that suddenly jumped on him. Making them both fall and roll over on the hard ground. Pain receptors flashed in his brain and only when they stopped did he get a clear view of his assailant laying on top of him, a crazed looking Synth with uh... let say not family-friendly additions.

"What took you so god! Damn! long!" Was the first thing the she-Synth declared.

"Wh-Who are you?!"

"Bad answer, I need you, now!" That made him blink several times.

"I..." Was the only thing that he could answer really, just long enough to get his assailant attention on his mouth and not on his leg which sprang forward, catapulting the smaller aggressor away from his frame. He was violating his primary directions against causing harm, but there was no telling what an unstable unit could do.

Not losing any time, FL-8 jumped back upright, finally getting a good view at the other artificial lizard. Her design was completely absent from his database and foreign from anything his memory knew, the best he could do was an educated guess and...

"Are... are you some kind of mad sexbot?"

"I AM NOT A SEXBOT!" She immediately screamed back at him, quite the touchy subject apparently.

Okay, okay now was not the time to upset an unstable unit even more with dumb questions as he launched his conflict deescalation protocols. The other unit didn't look completely unreasonable after all, since she clearly was restraining herself from jumping back on him.

"Well, miss...?" Striking a conversation sounded like a good starting point right now.

"Ysol-Q!" She answered, that was her line tag, not name, but he could work with that.

"Miss Ysol, I'm not an intruder, surely the owner warned you about my visit, right? I only came to bid farewell to him." There was no way the human didn't expect him to come back after all.

That got a reaction out of the other artificial, not the expected one though, good thing he was built to read emotional reactions, even on other models. There was surprise, a hint of sadness and pain, then fear, the irrational kind, not good.

"You're not leaving..."

"Excuse me?"

"YOU ARE NOT LEAVING!"

This was concerning, but not as concerning as her mad dash towards him, weighing his options in a millisecond, the Synth came to a simple conclusion. The best option to cause the less harm possible and yet evading danger was simple, fleeing up by the stairs behind him. Just in time to avoid getting tackled again and slam the nearest door behind him, hopefully she wasn't a 'small but can bend steel' type of unit.

"GET BACK HERE!" There was distress in her voice now.

Thankfully she wasn't the heavy lifter kind, even if the door frame nearly bended after her desperate efforts to force it open. Not wanting to stay in this madhouse any longer he approached the window, but stopped, the Ysol-Q unit had ceased her aggression and was... crying?

"Please..." she sobbed with anguish "... Please don't leave me alone..." more whimpering "...I can't take this anymore, I don't want to be trapped here, I'm so sorry for everything I ever did and said to you..." There was more despaired wailing and a barely audible whisper "Just stay with me, please..."

That was... a weird way to apologize, but there was no denying the genuineness of her break-down here. He didn't know how the human was treating her, but FL-8 did not envy her position, that's for sure. Obviously she was no organic and clearly an odd case, though that didn't mean she couldn't need his help, even if it wasn't his strong suit. So despite what his algorithm screamed at him, the Synth turned back and leaned against the sturdy door.

"You're a home-brew unregistered unit are you?" He asked softly.

It took her a moment to compose herself and respond with a tired "... Yes." At least the obvious was confirmed.

"I don't know how old you are but you're probably really confused, lost and..."

"I'm not complete..." she cut him off "... Nearly a third of my core systems are missing, I can't even exit the house."

So that's what the human had planned? To print a half-done Synth that could fool him and probably disregard after? That was next level despicable... But at least he could fix this!

"You know, I could help you with that, If our software isn't too different that is."

There was a long pause, was something bothering her?

"... It has to be done through connecting port L." Oh... that explained the resigned tone.

That was unexpected nonetheless "Are you sure you aren't a sexbot or something?"

"My designer was a cruel pervert that made my brain interpret these error systems as sexual stimulation, without a release or inhibition program functioning."

Now he was the one confused.

"Is that a yes or a no?"

No answer, after a moment FL-8 tentatively pushed the door... revealing the she-Synth curled on the floor, tears still somewhat flowing, truly the most miserable Synth he had ever seen... He was quietly impressed by the crying mechanism though, very advanced, more than even his own, it wasn't easy to effectively emulate crying when your face was a visor.

Focus! There was someone in obvious distress here! Now at least she seemed open to conversation as the units exchanged gaze. Ever the gentlemen, the caretaker helped her up.

"I... have no words for exploding like that at you, I've been bottling up everything all this time and after I assaulted you I thought you'd leave and..."

Typical, but he was having none of it as he shushed her

"That's fine, I get it, everything is forgiven." Simple and sincere. "Now let's not waste more time, the sooner you'll be fixed the better."

The Ysol united nodded back, they both knew where the APSM-DCR was, but there was a little detail...

"Did you happen to... have handles? By any chance?" he dared asked, a little flustered.

Frankly there was beauty to that specific combination of shock, mild disgust and disappointment she could display.

"You can't be serious..."

He shrugged "Well, everybody likes them, and I sure do as well!" with a very insistent and playful glare.

The not-sexbot unit sighted "Fiiiiine... I'll be waiting in the bedroom, you perv..."

FL-8 was no dupe though, she was immensely relieved under that grumpy outside. The caretaker couldn't help but wonder how weird it was though as he searched for the piece on the first floor, everybody he ever met and their mother _did like_handles! They were just neat! And practical! Probably why he had locked himself as a male for such an extended period of time.

It didn't take long to find the piece of equipment back, kinda home-brew too now that the Synth could inspect it closer, scanning it revealed no booby trap, no Trojan horse, no foul play. Not his favorite model though but oh well, he had nothing against experimenting a bit.

Once inserted in his P port the gadget quickly synchronized the rest of his systems. Reviewing it on the way up left him impressed, adjustable height, length, appearance... even had a segmented/unified option! It was a shame the balls weren't one, he never was a fan of them, and while they were harmless, they had some weird functionality he didn't understand.

While making his way to the Ysol-unit, FL-8 settled on somewhat normal settings: segmented; kind of glowing, smooth, little knot-lock and automatic size adjusting. After all he didn't know her proportions nor her preferences, so better start as simple and vanilla as possible...

The sight that awaited him behind the bedroom door was nothing short of breathtaking however. Maybe it was the new addon messing with his reaction protocol, or maybe he didn't really have time to notice her frame before, but there she was...

One whole Synth of sensuality freely exposing herself on the mattress. Ysol-Q was doing a very bad job at hiding her bashfulness, couldn't even dare to look at him while taking a semi-inviting pose. FL-8 didn't mind, in fact it was rather cute and still allowed him to gaze upon these form... She'd been designed to be attractive that's for sure, not the over-your-face attractive though, never quite like those, _this_was much better.

Like a master painting, all parts working in unison with the rest, thigh and hips perfectly complementing each other, these perky breasts enhancing the rest of her figure and these handles... He could never get enough of them! Sturdy, right where they could count, the best and only kind of handles... Surpassing it all however was that puffed-out ready slit, giving meaning to everything else, and the addon was quite agreeing with him.

She made a perfect emulation of gulping, inevitably noticing the equipment as he approached. With a confident and warm smile on his muzzle, FL-8 gently sat down on the edge right next to her and, with a little movement of the hand, invited the Ysol unit on his lap. The smaller Synth hesitated an instant but caved in, the caretaker knew what he was doing after all.

And there she was, facing each other as he soft-locked his knees, now wasn't the time for burlesque comedy. A super-advanced emotional decipher wasn't needed to see that she was reeking of anxiety.

"Don't be nervous..." He whispered to her

Ysol-Q nodded softly, there was no point denying it, how couldn't she? This was just terribly new, not the act but the uh... being a female thing, and a Synth too and... No, don't overthink this, grab the glowing stick of tech, align it with you and...

"...You'll do great!" FL-8 added with an encouraging smile, always the eternal optimistic.

She slowly went down on his full length finally connecting them, their systems subtly synchronizing. It was... predictably underwhelming, for her at last, sure it felt kinda good, like an internal massage of sort. It just made it even more painfully obvious that a large part of this program was missing, including how to correctly interpret those signals her brain was receiving non-stop.

Even her partner wasn't the most thrilled as well, he was clearly a bit disappointed, but was polite enough to hide it. At this rate it took them just under five minutes to finish it, she sensed it coming, as the male Synth stiffened and with a hum of pleasure stuck it deep in her.

The next phase though was nothing short of intense, as the she-Synth first direct L-P data exchange took her completely unprepared. FL-8 mind barged straight into her brain and went to work, filling blank space, holes in the hard drives, solving errors and installing most of the shared basic Synthetic lifeforms software. Under her very eyes the transparent roof filled itself with stars, and the vastness of space, such a beautiful sight...

> Ysol-Q unit systems operational...

Yes, finally... It was for good this time, her own software was complete at last, simply seeing the list of functional program made her happy, no weird lust to endure now, that torture was gone...

>Reproductive system online, activating first heat protocols.

You have got to be kidding...

In an instant Ysol-Q jumped right off FL-8's lap, her whole body absolutely tensed like never before, this was worse! This was so much worse! Every single cell felt like it was on fire! not the painful kind but whatever she needed relief _ now _!

"You... you're him!" The caretaker Synth exclaimed, wasting no time rising and staggering back from the other she-Synth while slightly freaking out. Oh, yeah, he went through all of her memories when fixing her, "A-And-your blueprints! They're wrong! How does..." Ysol-Q however didn't really care for the rest of his words as she was figuratively boiling from the inside.

Despite trying her hardest to formulate words, all the lizardess could do was to take a shaky step, collapsing once again on the mattress and raising her tail higher than ever thought was possible in front of the artificial male. Not even capable of controlling the intense shivering, she did managed to assemble a sentence this time

"FL-8, please fuck me!"

Cut in his rant, her interlocutor noticed the wreck of a Synth before him

"Uh?" was all he could answer, dumbly staring at her glorious behind, and that was driving her over the edge, maybe he needed a bit of rephrasing...

"Dear Flinder-8 unit, could you please plow the needy artificial reptilian pussy in front of your visor this instant before I make you!"

Was this a threat? Definitely, did she care? Not at all.

Meanwhile, FL-8 was obviously thinking how this had quickly become the weirdest day in his life yet, and it's not like hanging out with special cases was his job or anything. Unbeknownst to the male Synth though, one of the secret perks of this peculiar APSM-DCR he had failed to notice was the autonomic arousal and urge protocol to connect with any working Ysol unit's L-port in sight.

Finding himself at full mast in an instant and artificial-induced lust clouded his mind, ramming that entrance and its owner like there was no tomorrow suddenly sounded like a very, _very_good idea, and now that he thought about it, sounded like a perfect opportunity for a little payback!

Still standing upright and intending on keeping it that way, the male-Synth was on her in an instant. The smart bed instantly adjusted the height as the male grabbed his female by the thigh-handles before drawing her without any hint of his usual gentleness, so_functional..._

Ysol-Q world was thrown upside down as the lusty FL-8 unit penetrated her thoroughly without mercy or breathing room, making good use of her own addons to crash her nethers onto his might. Used as nothing else than a fucktoy to her frenzied partner, whimpers ignored over the tantrum of their bodies clashing against each other, she lost coherent thought for an instant...

> Sample acquired

Conscious recalibration began as the sensory input climbed down to acceptable level again. A quick checkup revealed everything she needed to know.

The other unit was buried deep in her, a liquid was splashing her insides while both real and fake loud breaths were the only things keeping the ambient silence at bay.

He was looking down on her, she looked up to him, exchanging intense glares of mutual comprehension, curiosity, and perhaps doubt. Finally the male extracted the robotic rod from its feminine prison, she wasn't satisfied yet though, they both knew it. Ysol-Q threw a begging gaze at him, FL-8 answered with a sly smile, sure, he could indulge her, out of the goodness of his heart...

Using the handles, the standing Synth pulled his partner on the side before laying down behind her without a word, exhaling fake hot breathing on the strange Synth's neck. She could feel his tool on her back, ready for duty again while the thin end of his tail wrapped around her leg, revealing as it dragged up her febrile and needy entrance, somewhat sore after the previous intercourse.

Gently, the caretaker unit grabbed one of her chest mounds from behind, delicately foundling them, appreciating their unique texture, a perfect consistency and such detailed teats, the kind of micro-precision you'd expect from organics. As their owner moaned softly under the careful touch, he couldn't help but wonder how...fitting_she was,_downright to his favorite colors, with the near perfect hues too as if...

Whatever, now wasn't the time to consider this. Too focused on the appreciation she was getting, Ysol-Q gasped in surprise as one of her upper back handles was tugged backward. Closing the distance even more, both artificial forms almost espousing each other, with one notable exception.

That exception being his virility currently plunged into her folds, making her whine again in a flash of pleasure. What followed wasn't any better, as FL-8 opened with a deliberately slow but enjoyable place as he continued to fondle the ample bosom in the meantime. The male Synth sure had some experience under his belt and showed no hesitation to use it.

Ysol-Q didn't need to turn back to feel the smug on his artificial face as she continued to cry out of delight. The Synth never thought of herself as a loudmouth lover, but he just somehow knew all of her sensual buttons, and there was nothing she could dare try to match him.

Despite his confident outlook, the lizard caretaker was actually quite taken aback, not only that damn was addon definitely acting on his own and allowed little control over his stamina, but his partner was just the literal best fuck he ever had. Sure she was inexperienced, but somehow that home-brew unit combined all the Synth and organic upside into one neat package. To say it made him click so hard was a vast understatement, even if he could last a little longer the Synth definitely had to make every second count.

And how did the reptile made them count! Progressively increasing the tempo until his partner was nothing more than an artificial jumble of lusty noise and whine. It took a little while longer though, caught between the expert pounding on one hand and the aggressive fondling of her breast until the program finally deemed the treatment passable enough and allowed the climax protocol to proceed. Sending waves after waves of inescapable of carnal pleasure through every part of her.

Ah, good, she was finally getting it, he just needed a little more... Time... for... himself... Yesssssss!

> Sample acquirement confirmed, beginning fertilization process.

> First heat protocol 20% complete

They looked at each-other, head still in the midst of their climax, knowing full well this was _far_from over.

Ysol-Q somehow collapsed even more on the mattress, reeling from their final session.

> First heat protocol complete, settings stabilized.

So many positions... So many brain-shattering orgasms... her lucky partner barely fared better than herself, still recovering as well while she felt so...full, the storage tank didn't even know she had almost to their limit.

"And to think... that for the first time... I hadn't reserved extra time for a visit..." he said in faked panting while taking off the APSM-DCR, returning it to an inert state.

"You have... a tight schedule...?" She asked in return.

"Yes... and it just imploded..."

A moment of silence passed, the two Synth recovering from their exhilarating session, after a moment though FL-8 got up, dusted himself off a bit and went straight for the exit.

"Wait, where are you going?" the Ysol unit called out to him

"Told you, there's people that still need my help, even if I'm late."

"Let me come with you!" she said without thinking.

That got his attention, as the caretaker turned back, he definitely wasn't expecting that one.

"Really? I mean..." There was clear hesitation in his voice "...That's not your weird programming acting up again, right?"

She vehemently shook her head, almost sure that this was her own stupid impulse this time around!

"...Sure...? You can tag along if you want, just cover yourself before we go."

Practically jumping off the bed and running ahead of him, scrambling to remember where to find some adaptive fabrics to put in the printer for something, Ysol-Q still took an instant to flip back and ask him.

"What's your name by the way?"

"Unit FLINDER-8, version 1.7, produced in..."

"No! I meant your personal name, you already know mine so that's only fair!"

"Oh... that would be El-eos. Nice to meet you." he said with transparent satisfaction.

"Yeah... nice to meet you too..." not knowing what to add, she went on her way, but...

"By the way, you definitely should take off your accessories before we go out, they're nice for sure, however they're... how do I say it... easy to forget, but easy to notice..."

He repressed a chuckle, seeing her blush in embarrassment would never get old.

"You perv..."

Ysol-Q didn't look back at the house, not even closing the door as she followed him out.

He didn't feel ready, how could he? This was too... unexpected, enough to put everything else on hold because the matter kept spinning in his artificial head. Not knowing what to do was one of the worst feelings his system could ever emulate. For a brief instant the FL-8 model wished he could deactivate those... but instead just leaned back on the space station's balcony and sighted. At least the view was quite nice, the empty void of space contrasting nicely with the nocturnal side of the planet nearby.

El-eos had quite understandably freaked out even more when it turned out that Q's belly was growing, she was a weird Synth sure, but his girlfriend was not a surrogate unit! The poor FLINDER-8 model had screamed internally for days after finding out that, somehow, not only was his strange love pregnant, but that she was carrying_eggs_with_tiny in-progress Synth that somehow shared striking resemblances with both of them!_This wasn't in his programming! It never was in any manual, database, or nowhere really except urban legends!

"How are you holding up?" the caretaker suppressed a surprised reaction, she really was discreet when she wanted to.

"Fine, I was just... thinking..." Yeah, couldn't even convince himself of that one...

He was so bad at hiding stuff it was nearly comical "I don't get you sometime..."

Oh the sweet irony... "Don't you start stealing my line, miss..." he could barely repress a chuckle.

"Come on, you were designed for this! there's no way you can't take care of them. There's no one else in the universe I would trust more than you on that. You know I'll be there for you..."

Ysol-Q hugged El-eos from behind, trying her damn best to comfort her distressed boyfriend, she couldn't bear seeing him so lost and scared. Especially considering how much she owed the Synth, but all she could offer was a warm hug.

There had been a doubt at the beginning, but it had subsided since then, El-eos wouldn't have stayed by her side until now if he really had a problem with the... let say peculiar nature of her. The pregnancy though she hadn't exactly minded, sure it had been surprising, and that weird APSM-DCR model they kept around was definitely to blame for that.

The real annoying part had been the design choice of the _ creator _, dealing with strange urges and a bloated belly for months had been a challenge there was no denying that. However it hadn't even come close to the laying, which had been a whole different experience in itself. Overall she was split between the urge of cursing _ them _for their completely unhinged conception of maternal birth, and just how _euphoric_the process and result was.

Back to the present the unusual Synth felt gently pushed aside, the lizard rotating to face her, sure there was still doubt, but also a hint of confidence now as he hugged her back before answering softly.

"I know you'll be..." The temptation was too much "... My totally-not-a-sexbot nymphomaniac." He added playfully with a sly look.

"You perv..." was all she could answer with a giggle.

They nuzzled affectionately, kissed, and mere minutes later made sweet sensual love on that very same balcony, who was going to stop them after all? They just never could get enough of each other, the unlikely romantic duo of modern time.

Bathing in each other embraced in the aftermath, The most unexpected mother of the century of three whole eggs and former human looked at the clear night sky under them. So much to do, so much to try... Sure she was a clumsy amateur in almost anything, but that wouldn't stop her from trying, not anymore. Even if people looked at that bizarre, probably defective Synth running around in the galaxy doing the strangest things, let's just say that...

Everyone's a critic~