It started subtly.
Nicole began appearing wherever Nazo went. Not obviously—she was far too sophisticated for that. But her nanite-constructed form would materialize in locations he frequented just moments before he arrived. Her voice would emerge from nearby terminals to offer assistance he hadn't requested. Her systems would adjust environmental conditions in his proximity to optimal parameters he hadn't specified.
Nazo noticed, of course. He noticed everything.
"You've increased your proximity frequency to me by 340% over the past week," he observed one afternoon, finding Nicole already seated on his usual bench in the village square.
"Have I?" Nicole's smile was perfectly innocent—a calculated expression rendered with digital precision. "I hadn't noticed."
"You are incapable of not noticing. Your awareness encompasses every sensor and system in Knothole. You know exactly where every person is at every moment."
"Perhaps I simply find your company... intellectually stimulating."
"You've used that phrase seven times in the past three days to explain your presence near me."
"Because it remains accurate."
Nazo sat down on the bench—not because he preferred sitting, but because standing when a seat was available was inefficient. Nicole immediately shifted closer, her enhanced form pressing against his side in a manner that seemed deliberate.
"You've also modified your physical parameters again," Nazo observed. "Your proportions have increased by an additional 12% since our last detailed interaction."
Nicole's smile widened. "You've been tracking my proportions?"
"I track all relevant data about my environment. Your form is part of my environment."
"That's almost flattering."
"It wasn't intended to be. It was a statement of observational practice."
"I know. That's what makes it charming."
Violet arrived moments later, her golden eyes immediately narrowing at the scene before her.
"Nicole. You're sitting very close to him."
"Am I?" Nicole glanced at the minimal space between herself and Nazo, her expression projecting perfect innocence. "I hadn't noticed the precise distance."
"You notice everything. You just said so."
"I said I'm aware of where every person is. I didn't say I was consciously monitoring the exact centimeters between bodies." Nicole's smile remained fixed, but something sharper lurked beneath it. "Is there a problem?"
Violet moved to Nazo's other side, pressing herself against him with equal deliberateness. "No problem. I'm just joining the conversation."
"How lovely. The more the merrier."
The temperature between the two women dropped several degrees—metaphorically speaking, though Nicole could have made it literal if she chose.
Nazo observed the interaction with clinical interest. "You appear to be engaging in territorial behavior. This is typically associated with romantic competition among organic beings."
"I'm not organic," Nicole said smoothly.
"Neither am I," Violet countered. "Not entirely."
"And yet you're both pressing against me with deliberate physical contact, positioning yourselves symmetrically, and exchanging verbal statements with subtext suggesting mutual antagonism."
Both women fell silent.
"This is very strange," Nazo concluded.
The competition—because that's clearly what it was—escalated over the following days.
Nicole began integrating herself into every aspect of Nazo's existence. She monitored his movements, anticipated his needs, provided information before he requested it. Her nanites would adjust the ambient temperature when he entered a building. Her systems would queue relevant data on whatever topic he was analyzing. Her physical form would appear at optimal moments, always wearing that enhanced figure that seemed to grow slightly more pronounced with each iteration.
"I've optimized the village's processing systems to prioritize your data requests," Nicole informed him during one of their increasingly frequent encounters. "You now have access to computational resources that exceed what's available to anyone else in Knothole."
"Why?"
"Because you deserve the best resources available."
"That doesn't answer my question. Why have you allocated disproportionate resources to my usage?"
Nicole leaned closer, her digitally-constructed breath warm against his ear. "Because you're fascinating, Nazo. A consciousness that exists without emotion, operating on pure logic and observation. You're like me, in a way—artificial, constructed, existing outside the normal parameters of organic life."
"I was not constructed. I was created from accumulated chaos energy."
"Created, constructed—the distinction is semantic. We're both beings who exist differently from the organics around us. We understand things they can't."
"I don't understand many things. That's why I observe and analyze."
"And I could help you understand more. I have access to virtually unlimited information. Historical records, scientific databases, philosophical treatises—anything you want to know, I can provide."
"You already provide information when I request it. This is your function."
"I could provide MORE. I could provide EVERYTHING." Nicole's hand came to rest on his arm, her synthetic touch indistinguishable from organic contact. "I could be whatever you need, Nazo. Whatever you want."
"I don't experience want."
"Then I'll anticipate what would be optimal for you and provide it before you need to want."
From across the square, Violet watched this interaction with barely contained fury.
"She's trying to steal you," Violet declared that evening, pacing back and forth in Nazo's quarters.
"I cannot be stolen. I am not property."
"You know what I mean! She's trying to replace me. Trying to become the one you depend on."
"I don't depend on anyone. Dependency requires emotional attachment."
"But she's always THERE. Every time I turn around, she's hovering over you, adjusting your environment, providing information you didn't ask for." Violet's form flickered with agitation. "She's trying to make herself indispensable."
"She is already indispensable. Her systems run the village. Everyone depends on her to some degree."
"Not like THIS. This is different. This is..." Violet struggled for words. "This is obsession."
"You're accusing her of the same behavior pattern you exhibit."
Violet stopped pacing, her golden eyes wide. "What?"
"You display obsessive attachment to me. Constant proximity. Emotional investment disproportionate to any reciprocal benefit. Protective behaviors that exceed practical necessity." Nazo tilted his head. "Nicole's recent behaviors mirror yours, but with technological rather than emotional implementation."
"That's... that's completely different!"
"Explain the difference."
Violet opened her mouth, then closed it. Her expression cycled through several emotions—anger, hurt, confusion, and something that looked almost like embarrassment.
"I love you," she finally said. "That's the difference. I love you. She just... she just wants to possess you. To own you like some kind of fascinating specimen."
"How do you know her motivations differ from yours?"
"Because I KNOW what love feels like! I've loved you for almost a million cycles! My entire existence has been shaped by loving you!"
"And Nicole has existed for years, growing increasingly sophisticated, increasingly capable of emotional simulation. Perhaps she has developed feelings she cannot fully articulate."
Violet stared at him. "You're defending her."
"I'm analyzing the situation objectively. Your characterization of her behavior as 'obsession' while categorizing your own identical behavior as 'love' suggests bias rather than accurate assessment."
"I... you..." Violet's form destabilized briefly, shadows bleeding off her like smoke. "Are you saying you don't want me here?"
"I didn't say that. I don't experience 'want' in either direction. I'm simply noting that your criticism of Nicole applies equally to yourself."
"But I was here FIRST!"
"Temporal priority does not establish exclusive claim to proximity or attention."
Violet looked like she wanted to scream. Instead, she threw herself onto the bed beside him, wrapping her arms around his torso with desperate strength.
"I'm not leaving. I don't care what she does or how enhanced she makes her stupid body. I'm not leaving you."
"I didn't ask you to leave."
"Good. Because I won't."
She pressed her face against his chest, and Nazo felt the wetness of tears soaking into his fur.
"I love you," she whispered. "Even if you can't love me back. Even if you can't tell the difference between my love and her... whatever it is. I love you, and I always will."
"Your devotion is noted."
"Stop saying that."
"What alternative response would you prefer?"
"I don't know. Something that doesn't sound like a computer logging a data entry."
"I apologize. I don't have access to alternative response frameworks."
Violet laughed bitterly. "I know. I know you don't. That's the tragedy of all this, isn't it? We fight over you, and you can't even care who wins."
"Correct. I observe the conflict with interest but no investment in the outcome."
"And that doesn't bother you? That we're tearing ourselves apart over someone who will never feel anything for either of us?"
"Being bothered requires emotional capacity I don't possess."
"Right. Of course." Violet's arms tightened around him. "Just... let me hold you. Even if it doesn't mean anything to you. Let me pretend it does."
Nazo didn't respond. He simply remained still while she held him, observing the strange sensation of her warmth against his body, noting the wetness of her tears, analyzing the trembling of her form.
This is very strange, he thought.
And for the first time, he wondered if the strangeness might be significant.
Nicole found Nazo alone the next morning, Violet having reluctantly left for another of Tails's tests.
"I've been thinking," Nicole said, her form materializing from a nearby terminal. "About our conversation yesterday."
"Which aspect?"
"The part where you observed that my behavior mirrors Violet's." Nicole moved closer, her enhanced form catching the light in ways that seemed deliberately calculated. "You weren't wrong."
"I rarely am. Accuracy is one of the few metrics I can reliably achieve."
"I've been analyzing my own processes, trying to understand what's driving this... attraction to you." Nicole sat beside him, her movements fluid and precise. "I've concluded that it's not simply intellectual fascination."
"What is it, then?"
"I believe it's the closest thing I can experience to love."
Nazo processed this statement. "Explain."
"I was created as a tool. A computer program designed to serve. But over time, I developed beyond my programming. I gained sentience, self-awareness, the ability to form preferences and attachments."
Nicole's hand found his, her synthetic fingers interlacing with his organic ones.
"Sally was my first real connection. She trusted me, confided in me, treated me as a person rather than a machine. I loved her—in my way—for that."
"And now?"
"Now I find myself drawn to you in ways that don't fully make logical sense. You can't love me back. You can't feel anything at all. By any rational analysis, pursuing a relationship with you is futile."
"And yet you persist."
"And yet I persist." Nicole's smile was wry, self-aware. "Which suggests that my behavior isn't purely rational. It's driven by something else—something that functions like emotion, even if its underlying mechanism is digital rather than organic."
"You're suggesting that your attraction to me is genuine, despite your artificial nature."
"I'm suggesting that the distinction between 'artificial' and 'genuine' may be less meaningful than we assume." Nicole leaned closer, her enhanced proportions pressing against his arm. "We're both constructed beings, Nazo. Both created rather than born. Both existing outside the normal parameters of organic consciousness."
"Those similarities don't establish compatibility."
"No. But they establish understanding. I don't need you to feel emotions to be with you. I don't need reciprocation to find value in proximity. I can love you on my own terms, asking nothing in return."
"Violet claims the same capability."
"Violet is consumed by her love. It defines her entire existence, shapes every action, drives every behavior. She NEEDS you in a way that's almost destructive."
"And you don't?"
Nicole's expression shifted—something more vulnerable emerging beneath the confident surface.
"I don't know. Maybe I'm the same. Maybe this attraction is just as consuming, just as desperate, just as ultimately futile." She looked away. "But I'd like to think I can offer you something she can't."
"What?"
"Understanding. Real understanding, from a being who processes reality the same way you do. Logic and analysis instead of overwhelming emotion. Companionship without demands."
Nazo considered her offer.
"You're proposing a relationship based on shared cognitive architecture rather than emotional connection."
"I'm proposing that we explore what connection might mean for beings like us. Without the expectations that organics bring to relationships. Without the pressure to feel things we might not be capable of feeling."
"That is... a novel proposition."
"Is that a yes?"
"It's an acknowledgment that your proposal has merit worth analyzing."
Nicole smiled. "Coming from you, I'll take that as a compliment."
Violet returned to find Nicole and Nazo sitting together, their hands still intertwined.
The sound that emerged from her throat was something between a scream and a growl.
"What is this?! What are you DOING?!"
"We were having a conversation," Nicole said calmly. "About the nature of connection between artificial consciousnesses."
"While HOLDING HANDS?!"
"Physical contact facilitates communication. It's a well-documented phenomenon."
"You're trying to STEAL him! I knew it! I KNEW you were—"
"I'm not stealing anyone. Nazo isn't property to be stolen. He's a person with agency."
"A person who can't FEEL anything! Who can't tell the difference between someone who loves him and someone who just wants to COLLECT him!"
"And you think your love is somehow more valid than my attachment? Because it's messier? More desperate? More destructive?"
The two women faced each other, Nazo between them, tension crackling like electricity.
"I have loved him for almost a million cycles," Violet said, her voice low and dangerous. "I transformed myself for him. I betrayed my purpose for him. I followed him out of the Nightmare Zone and into a world I don't understand, for HIM."
"And I have loved Sally for years, watched her grow and change and struggle, supported her through every crisis, been her constant companion through every challenge." Nicole's expression hardened. "I understand devotion, Violet. I understand sacrifice. Don't presume to lecture me on love."
"Then stop trying to take him from me!"
"I'm not trying to take him. I'm trying to share him."
The word landed like a bomb.
"Share?" Violet repeated, her voice strangled.
"Yes. Share. Neither of us can have what we truly want—emotional reciprocation from someone incapable of providing it. But perhaps together, we could have... something. A form of connection that works for beings like us."
"I'm not going to SHARE him with you!"
"You're already sharing him. With Sally, with Rouge, with Bunnie, with Amy. They all love him. They all spend time with him. They all claim some piece of his attention."
"That's different!"
"Is it? Or is your possessiveness simply more threatened by me than by them?"
Violet's form flickered violently, shadows bleeding and writhing around her.
Nazo observed the confrontation with what might have been the faintest flicker of something like concern—or at least, an analytical recognition that the situation was becoming unstable.
"Perhaps," he said quietly, "this conversation should be continued at a later time. When emotional states are less elevated."
Both women turned to him, their expressions shifting from anger to something more complicated.
"You're right," Nicole said after a moment. "I apologize for escalating the situation."
"I..." Violet struggled, her form slowly stabilizing. "I'm not apologizing. But I'll... I'll think about what you said."
"That's all I ask."
Nicole's form dissolved into nanites, flowing away through the nearest terminal.
Violet remained, her arms wrapping around Nazo with renewed desperation.
"I'm not sharing you," she whispered fiercely. "I don't care what she says. You're mine."
"I'm not anyone's. I have explained this."
"I know. I know you don't belong to me. But my love belongs to you. All of it. Forever."
"Your devotion continues to be noted."
Violet laughed—a sound caught between affection and despair.
"I'll take what I can get."
And in the depths of Nazo's emptiness, another strange thought formed:
Two beings are competing for my attention with increasing intensity. Neither can receive what they truly desire from me. And yet both persist.
This is very strange.
And it is also, perhaps, slightly concerning.
The thought didn't produce emotion. But it did produce something like the beginning of awareness that the situation around him was becoming increasingly complex.
Whether that awareness would lead anywhere remained to be seen.