Mei stared at the knife, the cake, and the fireworks tearing open the night sky.
Two combat shuttles screamed overhead, rolling through synchronized loops as crimson and gold energy painted massive hearts over the compound. BOOM. Scarlet fire bloomed, followed by blue, gold, and a heavy shockwave that slapped Mei’s chest. The air reeked of burned propellant, sugar, and machine oil.
The crowd went wild. Someone sobbed, someone else waved a Blaze flag, and a recruit filmed it all while dangling halfway out of a moving vehicle.
Mei lowered the blade. “Is this a welcome ceremony or a tactical hallucination?”
“No difference,” Joshua said, deadpan. “Both build team cohesion.”
“CUT THE CAKE!”
The chant erupted. Ryan materialized at her elbow, arms overflowing with confetti. Mei didn't ask where he got it. Escape crossed her mind, but with a crowd full of combat veterans, survival was questionable.
Sighing, she raised the knife. The compound fell dead silent. An engineer crossed his fingers; a recruit stopped breathing.
It’s just a cake, Mei thought, and sliced.
The blade sank through frosting. Vanilla filled the air.
Then—BEEP. BEEP.
Mei froze, turning slowly. “Why is the cake beeping?”
“Quality assurance.”
“Cake doesn't require a startup sequence.”
Joshua offered a thin smile. “You'll see.”
BOOM!
Compressed air detonated from beneath the confection, spraying frosting and glitter over Mei’s jacket. Panels snapped open—CHK-CHK-CLACK. Blue lights ignited. Servos whined, hydraulics hissed, and hot electronics swallowed the sweet vanilla scent.
FWOOOOOSH!
Drones erupted from the core. Five, ten, twenty, forty—a metallic swarm spiraling upward, their rotors roaring as navigation lights cut through the pyrotechnics.
Mei’s eyes tracked them. Precise stabilization. Flawless formation. They hid a military swarm in a baked good.
Behind her, an engineer burst into tears. “We actually did it!” His buddy grabbed his shoulders, screaming, “You said thirty percent!”
“They're drones,” Mei muttered. Nobody heard her.
High above, the swarm shifted into a blinding, golden phoenix, its wings spanning the entire facility. Suddenly, one unit broke formation, diving straight for the crowd. A soldier dropped his cup; the drone swooped, caught the drink mid-air, and handed it back without spilling a drop.
The crowd exploded. “MVP!”
The drone landed squarely on Joshua's shoulder.
“Should we salute?” a recruit whispered. Several officers actually hesitated.
Mei dragged a hand down her face. They're debating military protocol for a baked good.
Then the sky shifted again. Hundreds of lights realigned, spelling out two massive words: WELCOME MEI.
The noise faded for her. Watching the engineers laughing, the grizzled veterans smiling, and the soldiers pointing at the sky, Mei felt a strange, unfamiliar weight. She understood fear, deception, and war. But this—pure, unadulterated joy—was alien. And somehow, they wanted her in the middle of it.
Something tightened behind her ribs. She blamed the smoke.
“PROMOTE THE DRONE!” a voice roared from the back.
The chant caught like wildfire. Joshua tapped his chin. “We should consider it. It demonstrated initiative under pressure.”
“It caught a cup!” Mei snapped.
“Strong performance,” an officer chimed in. “Natural leadership.”
Mei looked from the crowd, to the drone blinking innocently on Joshua’s shoulder, to the ruined cake. She had survived collapsing cities, monsters, and war zones. Yet standing in this compound, under a mechanical phoenix and her own glowing name, she had never felt so utterly outmaneuvered.
At this rate, the machine was going to outrank her by morning.
Mei looked back up at the sky. For once, she didn't mind.