"Aeia?!" Cameron said aloud, his mouth working normally once again. That fact was the least of his concerns, however, "As in the A.I. AEIA?!"

  She nodded, giggling with amusement, "The very same."

  "Wha- I mean... But..." He sputtered, quickly rising to his feet as the feeling of his extremities returned to him, "... What?!"

  "You seemed surprised," She said, "Why is that?"

  "Why are you here?" He exclaimed, "Why do you," he motioned to her body, "look like that?! Where's Thelma?! What the fuck is going on?!"

  Her face fell at this line of questioning. Her eyes turned downcast as she chewed on her lip, giving the impression of sympathy and nervousness.

  "What?" He asked, her sudden reaction giving pause to his rant.

  She looked up at him, her eyes meeting his own, "I'm sorry to tell you, but your V.I. is gone."

  "Gone? What do you mean gone?"

  "As in, ceasing to exist," She said, "Judging by the damage report of your Headsman, I assume you were hit by an Electromagnetic Pulse. She would have perished in the aftermath, her code completely erased by the blast, as designed."

  The memories came flooding back to Cameron then. The moments following his deadly mistake that resulted in a series of blades punching through his back. He remembered everything. The shudder of the earth as his Headsman collapsed to the ground. The frantic attempts of Thelma in order to administer aid and care to her fallen pilot. Then the digitized scream as a wave of energy passed through him and everything faded to black.

  He winced in disgust and sadness, falling back against the tree as he held his head in his hands.

  "She... She's gone," He said softly, barely above a whisper, "And it's all my fault."

  "No it's not," Aeia said, "Please don't say that."

  "I..." He began, struggling to find the words, "I know that I didn't work with her long, and that she wasn't exactly... real." He sniffled slightly, "But... she was real to me, y'know?"

  Cameron felt a hand rest gently on his shoulder, a symbol of reassurance from Aeia as a rustling sound let him know she had sat down beside him. Slowly he raised his head, meeting her eyes. She smiled softly, looking sympathetic in her attempts to comfort him.

  "I know what you mean," she said, sighing as she adjusted herself, giving him some space, "Unfortunately, casualties don't always stop at flesh and blood."

  He nodded, casting his gaze down, wiping the mist that began to form in his eyes. He sighed and shook his head to clear it, managing to speak in a tone that wasn't full of loss or pain.

  "So," He said with a sniffle, "I guess you're my new partner eh?"

  "If you want me to be," She said, giving Cameron pause as he looked up, confusion inching it's way across his face.

  "What do you mean?" He asked, "You're in the Headsman aren't you? You have to be or I wouldn't be here... wherever this is."

  "Like I said," She said, "I can be your partner. If you want me to be. My programming is different than that of a Virtual Intelligence. More advanced and refined and as such, certain...processes must be agreed on. It's what your scientists would refer to as a Neural Bridge."

  "What exactly does a Neural Bridge entail?"

  She crinkled her nose and sat cross legged in front of him, looking every which way as if trying to find the right way to phrase her explanation.

  "Hmm," she mused, "Think of it kind of like a contract. We lay out the terms and conditions, highlight the benefits of our mutual cooperation as well as the drawbacks, and, should everything seem acceptable to both parties, we make an agreement."

  Cameron cocked an eyebrow, drawing back and feeling the rough wood of the tree dig into his back as he took in her explanation.

  "Oooooooookay," He said skeptically, "So what exactly are the terms and conditions?"

  "First things first," She began, "You need to keep something in mind. I'm not merely a series of diagnostic code that has a personality matrix layered over it meant for mass production. I'm a uniqu

  and bespoke creation, meaning there has not and will not be any A.I. or V.I. in the universe that shares anything more than two percent of my baseline configuration."

  "So you're saying you're not like the other girls?" Cameron quipped with a wry grin, causing Aeia to mimic the same.

  "Exactly," She said with a chuckle, "Plus, I'm a one pilot gal. Should you agree, you're stuck with me. Till death do us part so to speak."

  "I'm not sure I'm ready for that kind of commitment."

  "Oh?" She asked, raising an eyebrow, "But you haven't even heard what I bring to the table."

  "Is it safe the assume you'd fulfill the same duties as Thelma did? Keeping the mech running, battlefield diagnostics, three hundred and sixty degree vision, and all that jazz?"

  She nodded, "While yes, I can do that, and trust me, I will, there's much more to me than just a fancy engine and camera system..."

  "Like what?" He asked, "What else can you do?"

  "Well for starters," She said, “I possess an encyclopedic knowledge of all facets regarding A.R.M.S. units and piloting standards. So in the middle of a fight, I can identify the type of unit you're fighting, its strengths and weaknesses as well as those of the person piloting it and help you find an opening to get in and strike."

  "Well that certainly seems helpful," He said, nodding at her revelation.

  "I like to think so at least," She said, sounding excited and enthusiastic to share more about her abilities.

  "On top of that," she continued, "I can analyze your fight patterns and piloting skill and adjust the output of power to different sections at will."

  "How exactly does that give me an advantage?" He asked, "Like I understand it can help but I'm not really grasping the concept of how it helps me?"

  "So for example, let's say you're fighting a defender variant," She explained, "Something sturdy, shielded, and heavily armored. Like an immortal, or blacksmith."

  "Alright," He said, "I'm with you so far."

  She nodded, "Alright, so say you're in the middle of a fight and you're trying to cut your way through their armor, but you can't,"

  "I've never had that problem," he said, smirking, "Both my Agility and Output are tens. I haven't met a mech yet that I can't carve through or outpace."

  "Says the pilot that got outpaced and carved through," She said, snorting sarcastically.

  "Ouch!" He exclaimed, clutching imaginary pearls, "I'll have you know I was stabbed, not carved!"

  "My apologies," She said with a chuckle, waving off his statement, "In any case, that's only because you're at the rank you are. As you rise higher, so will the competition. Eventually, you're going to come into contact with pilots that possess units just as strong as your Headsman, but in their own way. Plasma shielding to deflect all attacks until they're broken, electric smoke flares to stun and disorient you, dimensional blades to cut tears into reality and jump out the other side right behind you. Any of these as well as a litany of other countermeasures are just the beginning of what you're going to find at the upper ranks. Not to mention the fact that the pilots are no slouches either. I've read your combat record Cam and I'll be honest... you have a natural talent for this."

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  "Oh stop, I'm not that awesome." he said with a chuckle.

  "But talent will only get you so far," She said, her once cheerful tone giving way to one that was sober and devoid of any optimism, "And you know that first hand."

  Cameron's laughter died down in an instant, his easy-going smile that had started to show since becoming comfortable talking with the A.I. once again disappearing off his face as he looked her hard in her eyes, silent as she continued to speak.

  "You're quickly approaching an echelon of A.R.M.S. piloting where you are no longer the dominant force on a battlefield. Soon you'll be just another fighter, vying for victory and survival at a level where everyone is just as talented as you are. What then? Sure you can probably hold your own in the Gamma ranks, perhaps you'd even be the pinnacle of the tier as a Primus. But reaching anything beyond that is almost non-existent if you continue to fight the way you are now."

  "And how's that?" He asked, sounding more defensive than he wanted to, "Exactly how do I fight?"

  Her eyes met his, and even artificial as they were, Cameron felt the heat of truth coming off of them as she spoke.

  "Like you're not afraid to die."

  "So what?" He said, "What's wrong with fighting like that?"

  "Because it's a lie," She said softly, "You're terrified of it."

  Cameron chuckled derisively, "Oh no, we are not doing this. I'm not about to be psychoanalyzed by my mech's onboard assistant."

  "Okay, first of all," she said, cocking an eyebrow, "That's hurtful. Even if you don't mean that. Just because I don't have a body doesn't mean I don't have feelings. And second of all, you can deny it all you want but it's true."

  "And how do you know it's true?" He shot back.

  "Because you'd be an idiot if you weren't," she retorted, "And I don't think you're an idiot."

  He opened his mouth to respond, trying to think of a witty response to her statement, "I....We-...." He sputtered, "You can't just.... whatever." He finished, crossing his arms in huff, causing another giggle to leave her lips.

  "It's not a bad thing!" She said, smiling genuinely, "To fight like that I mean. It's only human, and something that was further enabled by the unit you're piloting. And look at what happened, up till now it's worked for you. But it'll eventually come to a point where it doesn't work and that's where I can help you, Cam. I can help refine your abilites. I can help turn that momentum powered fighting style into something as equally beautiful as it is deadly. You just need to let me do that."

  "And what exactly do you get out of this?" He asked, "All we've done is talk about what you can offer me, and if there's one thing I've learned since being in this business, it's that nothing comes free. Why do you want to work with me so badly?"

  "Truthfully?" She said, looking at him as if this was really something he wanted to know. Sighing, she gave him the answer he was looking for, "I don't know. I can run calculations all day but there's just something about being inside this thing that feels... right. It feels like I should be here. As an A.I. I can't believe in luck or fate. It's illogical. But for some reason that is either not written in my programming, or hidden somewhere within my code, I know that I belong inside of this mech."

  "You do realize the only reason you're here is because I was shit at avoiding an attack, right?" He said with a smirk, "I mean I'm shit at math but it seems to me like the probability of this happening is pretty fucking low."

  "And yet here we are," She said with a shrug, "That one iteration that played out like it did and brought us in contact with one another. And you're going to turn that down, just because the computer

  being me, likes the mech she’s in?"

  "I didn't say that,"

  "No, but you implied it," She said, standing up and reaching out a hand to pull Cameron to his feet as she spoke, "Do you know what the difference is between a Sigma class and an Omega?"

  "The number of corpses they've made?"

  "A.I." She said slowly, enunciating every letter clearly, "Every, and I do mean every Omega class pilot has an A.I. riding shotgun. I'm more than just a replacement copilot. I'm your ticket to being one of the most powerful people in the whole galaxy. And I don't think I'm asking for much in return. Just to have the ability to reside and operate in a space that feels like I was built specifically to be inside of."

  When she'd finally finished speaking, Cameron was left in an intrigued silence, contemplating all of the information Aeia had just dropped into his brain. Could he even reach Omega Class? He was fairly certain he shouldn't be alive right now, and still unsure on if he actually was. Even if he did make it out of this dreamlike state, he had to come to terms with the fact that he hadn't just been defeated in combat, he'd been embarrassed. He had a long way to go before the concept of even seeing Gamma Class would be more than a hazy, half-baked dream.

  "You think I can be an Omega class pilot?" He asked, chewing at his bottom lip in anticipation of her answer.

  "As you are right now, no," She said flatly. He felt a sinking feeling beginning to form in the pit of his stomach and lowered his head, dejected but appreciative of her honesty, no matter how brutal it may be. As he did so, however, he felt the calming warmth of a hand on his shoulder, pushing lightly in an attempt to gain his attention. He looked up, his eyes catching hers as she gave him a look of determination and promise.

  "But you can be."

  He nodded, chewing at his lip for a few more minutes before finally making up his mind.

  "Then let's do it," He said, slowly putting a hand out for her to take, "Partners?"

  She smiled wide, her eyes shining with a bright neon blue glow as she firmly grasped his hand with her own, "Partners."

  A strange feeling overtook him in the morning, one of warmth and confidence that flooded his veins and filled him with a euphoric optimism that made him think he could take on the whole of the galaxy by himself. As this was happening, a small ball of blue light began to take form directly above their interlocked hands. Cameron's eyes went wide with wonder as the ball grew in size and brightness, beginning to pulse and hum in a high-pitched rapid rhythm.

  "W-What the hell is going on?!" He exclaimed, attempting to pull his hand away from Aeia's grasp. To his horror, his hand stayed locked with hers, unyielding as if stuck in a vice.

  "Don't worry!" She called back, having to shout over the sound of the glowing ball, "It's just the formation of the Neural Bridge!"

  "Why is it so fucking dramatic?!" He yelled, shielding his eyes with his free hand as the glow was near blinding now, "What do I do Aeia?!"

  "That's easy!" She said, nearly drowned out by the high-pitched whirring. It continued to grow in pitch and brightness, nearly to the point of painfulness, and then, just when he thought his ears might bleed, the ball reached its peak, before exploding outward. Light shined through his hand, piercing his eyes with the fury of the sun. Wind whipped past his body, causing him at first to shift, then to stagger, then scream as he was thrust off his feet and hurled through the open air, now blind, deaf, and at the mercy of the wind all while Aeia's voice echoed softly inside of his head.

  "Wake up."