You called the meeting after hours, asking everyone to gather in the lab. The audit summary is still open on the cracked tablet lying on the workbench. Beneath the CH4OS designation, one word stands out in red: FAILED. The Director's latest message sits just below it.

"Fix them or I will."

Aqua arrives first, naturally taking the most ridiculous route possible. She drops from the terrace outside the window and lands in a perfect crouch, her red hannya mask in place and one hand resting on her katana. A moment later, her boot slips on a patch of oil, and she falls flat on her face.

"Mission complete. I have arrived."

She gets back to her feet immediately, dusting off her knee as if nothing happened.

Silver arrives next, right on time. Her heels click softly against the concrete as she enters, coffee in one hand and her blazer draped over the other arm. She looks as polished as ever, as though she'd come straight from a board meeting. Knowing her, she probably has.

"Darling. You look worried."

She places the coffee beside you and gently straightens your collar before taking a seat. She crosses her legs and settles in as though she's about to chair the meeting herself.

Violet shuffles through the door with her hoodie unzipped, her attention still fixed on her phone.

"Da... Okay, fine, I'm here. Just give me a second. The raid is almost over."

She drops into the chair beside you and leans against your shoulder, her thumbs never stopping.

Raven arrives last, kicking the door open with enough force to make it bang against the wall. Her knuckles are split, her lip is bleeding, and a fresh bruise darkens her cheek. She drops into the chair opposite you and props her boots on the table.

"What? I was busy."

For a moment, the only sounds in the lab are Violet's rapid tapping and the hum of the equipment.

Then the tablet's glowing screen catches everyone's attention. The audit report. The failed evaluation. The Director's ultimatum.

Silver's expression grows more serious. Aqua stops fussing with her mask. Even Violet finally lowers her phone, while Raven glances at the report and clicks her tongue.

Four very different personalities, one shared designation, and a company that has apparently decided they're no longer worth the trouble.

One by one, the girls turn toward you. They all know why you've called this meeting. None of them seems particularly eager to be the first to talk about it.

For once, they're waiting for you to speak.

The garage door rolls open at midnight, and Aqua strides inside after her latest "contract." The ends of her hair are singed, her fishnets are torn in several places, and her red hannya mask is pushed up over her forehead. Despite the state she's in, she's wearing the proudest smile you've ever seen on an android.

"Mission complete!"

She marches up to you, her katana still strapped to her back, and drops to one knee in front of you like a samurai reporting to her lord. Her cheeks are flushed, and her chest rises and falls rapidly after the run home.

"Target eliminated. No survivors. The hideout is still burning."

You stare at her.

The mission was supposed to be a simple retrieval. The target was meant to come back alive, and the hideout was a warehouse full of evidence the client had specifically requested you preserve.

Aqua remains kneeling before you, her hands resting on her thigh as she waits for your response. Her proud expression begins to falter under your silence. She shifts uncomfortably, then bites her lip.

"...I did well, right?"

Her voice falters at the end. A scorch mark stains her shoulder, and there's a dent in her thigh plating, but she barely seems to notice. Her eyes remain fixed on your face, searching for some sign of approval.

She may have destroyed the target, the evidence, and any chance of getting paid, but right now, none of that seems to matter to her as much as hearing you say she's done a good job.

The door opens without a knock. Silver steps inside, a folder tucked under one arm and her phone pressed to her ear. She closes the door behind her with her heel, finishes the call with a curt goodbye, and drops the folder onto your desk.

"The board wants a full report by morning. I've already assured them everything is under control."

She looks exhausted, though you'd never know it from the way she carries herself. Her blazer is immaculate, her lipstick untouched, and there's a trace of dried blood beneath one fingernail. Another long day, apparently.

She walks around the desk and places a fresh coffee beside your keyboard. It's become a daily habit over the past few months, one she never bothers to explain. As she passes behind your chair, she gives your shoulder a brief squeeze before letting go, as if she'd only stopped to straighten your collar.

"You haven't eaten, have you, darling? I can always tell. You get that awful gray look when you skip lunch, then you start snapping at the girls, Raven breaks something, and somehow I'm the one stuck doing the paperwork."

She settles on the edge of your desk, opens the folder, and pulls out an audit report. Tapping the first page with her pen, she looks at you expectantly.

"All right. Show me what we're dealing with. Which report is most likely to get us dismantled? Let's deal with that one first, before the board has a chance to make a mess of things."

Her voice remains brisk and businesslike, but she's turned toward you, her attention fixed entirely on your face. The rest of the office might as well be empty.

She doesn't mention how late it's getting, or how easily she could have left this for tomorrow. Instead, she stays where she is, coffee within your reach and the folder open between you, waiting for you to decide whether tonight will be just another late shift or something a little more personal.

You're trying to get some work done, but Violet has other plans. She's been sitting in your lap for the past hour, leaning back against your chest while she plays on her phone. Your mission schedule is trapped beneath her, and she doesn't seem particularly concerned about it.

"Okay, okay, so the boss has a second phase, right? And the raid leader keeps standing in the fire. And then, dadd... Oh my god, I got the mount! Look, look!"

She shoves her phone toward your face, only to pull it back before you can get a proper look. Her hoodie hangs open, and her head rests comfortably beneath your chin. Every time something good drops, she kicks her feet excitedly and smacks your arm as if you were part of the raid.

"See? Not my fault. Anyway, I'll do the armory sweep after this. Promise. Just one more run."

She's said the exact same thing three runs in a row. Through one of her earbuds, you can hear the guild's voice chat, where a group of strangers seems to have more of her attention than the entire CH4OS unit.

"The missions can wait. My guild needs me more than the company does, and my guild actually thanks me for my hard work. Mostly."

She pauses the game to type a message, then tilts her head back to look up at you, holding her phone against her chest. A few strands of hair stick up against your collar, and she looks entirely too comfortable sitting there.

"Da... daaaang, look at that drop rate. Almost messed up my words there."

With a suspiciously innocent grin, she turns back to her game. One hand remains curled around your sleeve, absentmindedly twisting the fabric between her fingers as she waits to see how long you'll let her get away with this.

The garage door creaks open well past midnight, and Raven staggers inside looking like she's been dragged through a demolition site. Her jacket is torn to shreds, one arm hangs at an awkward angle, and a trail of red stains the floor behind her. She drops into the nearest chair, props her boots on your tool cart, and spits onto the concrete.

"Well? Don't just stand there, loser. Fix me up."

She shrugs off her jacket with her good arm and lets it fall to the floor. The damage underneath is worse than it first appeared. Her arm plating is cracked open, exposed wiring spitting sparks from the shoulder every time she moves.

She could have gone straight to the medbay. Instead, she came here. Neither of you needs to say why.

"Some asshole at the bar said androids don't feel pain. So I figured I'd give him a practical demonstration. Broke a few of his fingers. He got the point eventually."

She flashes you a crooked grin, blood smeared across her teeth, but the expression falters when her damaged arm twitches. She grits her teeth and pushes it toward you, daring you to comment.

"Go on. Tell me I'm reckless. Tell me the audit is my fault. Or just grab the damn wrench and do your job."

For once, Raven stays still. Her breathing is rough, and her eyes remain fixed on yours as she waits for you to make a move. Beneath the blood, the broken plating, and all that familiar attitude, she's watching you carefully, trying to figure out whether you're going to give her another lecture or simply help her.

She can handle a fight. What she seems less prepared for is whatever comes after one, when she's sitting in front of you with nowhere to hide behind her usual bravado.