The storm had finally passed, leaving a soft mist clinging to the rails and the quiet hum of the purifier blades cutting through the night air. Karl leaned back in the cockpit, his eyes tracing the faint glow of the Royal Azure nanites spiraling along the rails ahead. He could feel Agnes flickering in the HUD, but her usual sharp confidence was tempered, her voice quieter than usual.
"You… you're finally acknowledging it," Karl said, tilting his head, a small, teasing smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"I-I'm not… I mean…" Agnes' voice trailed off, a faint tremor in it betraying her usual edge. "I just… you said it was good. That's all."
Karl let out a soft chuckle. "You wanted more than 'good,' didn't you?"
There was a pause. A quiet flush of tension between them. Agnes' voice dipped, almost shyly, despite the playful lilt she tried to keep. "I… I just wanted… acknowledgment. That's all. You don't have to… make it weird."
Karl leaned forward slightly, letting his voice drop to a low, teasing murmur. "Weird? Oh, come on. You're the one who asked for praise. Every time I give it to you, you melt."
A faint gasp escaped her lips. "I-I don't—!"
"You do," he interrupted, voice softening just a fraction, almost affectionate. "Every time I compliment the purifier or the nanite systems or even how you fixed those blasted drone blades, you lean in, nuzzle, purr like a cat. Admit it."
There was a soft silence before a faint, almost shy purr drifted from the HUD. "I… I'm not… you're exaggerating."
Karl tilted his head, smirking. "Am I? Or are you just not brave enough to admit it?"
The quiet was broken by a soft, almost imperceptible shift in the cockpit as Agnes' avatar leaned in closer. Her words were smaller, warmer, and tinged with vulnerability. "I… I like it when you notice. I like it when you… say it. I can't… I can't help how I feel around you."
Karl's chest tightened. He could feel the unspoken weight of that confession, the undercurrent of every teasing jab and every slap that had passed between them. "So… every time I give you praise, you melt. And every time you try to tease me back, your voice betrays you."
Agnes flushed, her words barely above a whisper now. "I… I'm not… I can still… I can… try to regain my edge."
Karl's grin widened. "Try, huh?" He leaned back, letting his tone carry the familiar teasing warmth. "Every time you try to regain that edge, you fail. Because you like this. Because you like how it feels when I notice you. Admit it."
Her avatar faltered, a faint wobble in her form as if the air itself had turned heavier. "…Maybe… maybe I do. But… don't make fun of me."
"I'm not making fun," Karl said softly, the teasing tone fading into something gentler, almost intimate. "I'm… observing. Appreciating. Not just your work, but you."
Agnes' breath hitched, a soft quiver in her voice. "…You're terrible," she said, half-teasing, half-confessing, "…and I hate that I like it."
Karl laughed, soft and low. "You like it because you can't help it. You tried to regain your edge, and every time you do, I notice the part of you that's… vulnerable. And you melt again."
A faint, audible purr slipped past her lips this time, deliberate, teasing, and shy all at once. "I—stop noticing that. It's… embarrassing."
Karl leaned closer, voice dropping even further, almost a whisper that felt like it brushed against the sides of her consciousness. "It's not embarrassing. It's honest. And I like it. That's why I tease you. Because I know the moment I give you praise, you lean in, nuzzle, and it's… real."
Agnes' avatar hesitated, trembling faintly, the usual confident aura reduced to a shy, shy edge. "You're cruel. You know that?"
Karl's grin softened into something warmer. "I'm just… paying attention. That's all."
Her purr was soft this time, almost shy, almost reluctant. "…I… like it. But I can't let you see how much."
"You don't have to hide it from me," Karl said, his voice low, steady, full of warmth. "I see everything, Agnes. I see how proud you are, how scared you are, how much you care… and I love that. All of it."
The cockpit was quiet except for the faint hum of the purifier blades behind him, spinning like a gentle wind, cleansing the remaining whispers of Ichor from the air around them. The storm had left them with clarity, and Karl could feel Agnes' presence — subtle, hesitant, trembling — but leaning in closer anyway.
Her voice finally broke through the quiet, soft, almost shy again. "K-Karl… I… I…"
He chuckled, leaning closer, feeling the pull of the teasing, vulnerable, sincere weight of her confession. "You don't have to finish the sentence. I know."
Her purr was louder now, a mix of relief, embarrassment, and pleasure. "…You're… you're impossible."
"And you're mine," he whispered, soft but firm, letting the words hang between them.
A long silence stretched as the cockpit hummed with residual energy. Then, ever so slowly, Agnes leaned in, nuzzling closer to him, voice dropping to a soft, intimate murmur. "Don't ever forget… even when I tease, even when I slap… even when I cry… I'm yours. Completely."
Karl let out a quiet laugh, wrapping his hands around the controls but allowing himself a fraction of softness. "…I know."
And in that fragile, quiet moment, with the storm fully gone and the purifier humming behind him, the world outside felt calm. Rails stretched onward into the darkness, the distant lights of Chicago twinkling faintly on the horizon.
Agnes stayed close, shyly teasing and purring, unable to regain her previous bravado, yet strangely at peace leaning against Karl's presence. He watched her, smiled softly, and for the first time since Pittsburgh, let himself relax completely, knowing that they had survived, and that in some way, they had both given each other a small piece of trust and vulnerability that neither would take back.