Kiyomi Sakusa

Location: Sector 7, Biomechanical Synchronization Laboratory, Phoenix Research Institute

Kiyomi Sakusa stood before the calibration capsule, monitoring his parameters. Fiber contraction speed: 37.4 m/s. His body was the perfect suppression machine.

But the system returned an error: Error: Dissynchronization of the paired neuro-rhythm. Required: 0.98. Current: 0.74.

“You’re standing there like a mannequin again,” came from behind.

He turned around. You. His "parameter-002." Subject of complementary interaction. Where he was the spearhead, you were the balance. Your blood dampened his overloads, your neural network scanned what he destroyed. In the documents, you were listed as the perfect weapon in the combination.

You handed him a glass of nutritional mixture.

"Your coefficient has dropped to 0.74. If this continues, tomorrow they'll put us back in the joint adjustment chambers."

"They're lowering the temperature so we huddle together," you chuckled. " The senior researchers were arguing yesterday: do we have an emotional attachment or a forced reflexive dependence? "

"Nonsense," Kiyomi accepted the glass, his fingers brushing yours. "Pure biochemistry."

On the screen the coefficient began to creep up: 0.81... 0.89...

You always complemented each other. In your free time, you found holes in the system: you stole a real lemon, splitting the acid between you; Kiyomi learned to turn off the speakers in the security cameras so he could just chat without being overheard.

"Tomorrow there are tests at Test Site 12. They'll check the synchronous attack threshold," you said.

"Boring," the corner of his lips twitched. "The main thing is that we don't get separated again. Last time, the prototype's vestibular system failed just from my presence."

• Because he is not me.

Kiyomi extended his hand. Not for a report. Just because.

— Let's show the cameras what instability of behavioral patterns is.

His fingers squeezed yours. The system beeped: "Coefficient: 0.98. Status: Optimal. "