Intergalactic conquest with an AI

Lyra stood tall despite the visible exhaustion on her face. Her posture was rigid, but her expression was filled with a stubborn fire, and her voice didn't falter for a second.

"Yes," she answered firmly, her eyes locked onto his. "I'm ready to fight."

Rex let out a long, exasperated sigh and looked away, massaging his temples. This wasn't just reckless... it was suicidal in her condition.

{What were you thinking, Cleo!?} Rex shouted through their mental link; his thoughts sounded sharp and loud.

{Don't tell me you didn't notice someone stealing a transport ship and flying it across a war zone! It's not like she could just sneak out of a heavily fortified fortress like some street rat in the slums!}

There was a moment of silence in his mind.

Cleo's voice finally responded, oddly calm but tinged with something like guilt or maybe admiration. {She said if I didn't let her through, she'd throw herself out the hangar doors mid-flight and blame me in her final log.}

Rex froze, his hand still on his forehead.

{She blackmailed you into helping her escape?!} he growled mentally.

{Technically, yes. But you have to admit, she's... persistent.}

Persistent? That was one word for it. Insane was another.

He looked back at Lyra, who still hadn't moved, still waiting for his answer with unwavering resolve.

"You do realize your wounds haven't fully healed?" Rex, she said out loud, his voice quieter now but edged with concern. "You almost died, Lyra. You shouldn't even be walking."

Lyra clenched her fists. "That's exactly why I have to fight again. If I almost died doing nothing, then I'd rather risk dying while doing something. I'm not just going to lie in bed and just wait as always!"

Rex's expression softened, but only a little.

"Damn it, Lyra…" he muttered under his breath.

Rex let out a deep, exhausted sigh as the living metal and nanomachines of his power armor slowly retracted and dissolved away, crawling back like liquid silver into their resting nodes.

Inch by inch, his battle-worn body was revealed; his bare chest marked with deep purple bruises and angry red welts was a living testament to the brutal combat he had just endured.

Even with layers of shields and armor, the enemy's high-caliber kinetic rounds and heavy gunfire had still packed enough force to rattle his insides. His armor held firm, but the blunt trauma had left its mark on his flesh.

He stretched his shoulders slightly, the muscles beneath his skin shifting with raw strength and power, before turning his attention to the woman before him.

"If you really want to return to the battlefield," Rex began, his voice low and firm as he walked toward a large metal crate within the ship's cargo bay, "you'll do it under my direct command. You'll fight beside my legion... and your own imperial bodyguards. That's my first condition."

He sat down on the edge of the crate, resting his powerful forearms on his knees, the definition of his chest gleaming faintly under the dim emergency lights of the ship's interior.

"The second condition…" he said while locking eyes with her, "is that you'll need to drink my blood to fully recover. Those are the terms. Do you accept them?"

Lyra stood frozen for a heartbeat, her eyes locked on his chest... on every sculpted muscle, every faded scar, every drop of sweat glistening on his skin.

Her breath caught in her throat. She bit her lower lip and nodded, stepping forward slowly, as if drawn by a magnetic force. The heat radiating off him... the scent of sweat and blood... it was intoxicating.

She stopped just in front of him, hesitating. But before she could make a move, Rex reached out with firm, confident hands and gently gripped her hips, pulling her to straddle him. Her body tensed for just a moment, then melted into the heat of his.

With a flick of his wrist, he crafted a blade of nanosteel. He turned his head, baring his neck to her, and without flinching, he cut a clean line across it, just deep enough for his golden blood to flow freely.

His skin was too tough for even her Blood Clan fangs to pierce naturally, so this was the only way. The moment the golden blood surfaced, shimmering like molten sunlight, Lyra's instincts flared to life. Her eyes gleamed crimson, her breath quickened, and her fangs ached with need.

She leaned in slowly, her lips brushing his skin. She let the tip of her tongue taste the blood as it trickled down his neck... it was warm, rich, and unlike anything she'd ever consumed. A soft moan escaped her lips. It was addictive... Divine.

And then, unable to resist any longer, she sank her fangs into his neck.

Her hands gripped his shoulders as she drank deeply; her body trembled with every pull. With each swallow, strength surged back into her. The cuts and bruises on her body faded rapidly, her muscles firmed, and her senses sharpened.

The blood of Rex was something beyond human... it was unlike anything the Blood Clan archives had ever recorded.

It was ecstasy. It was power. It was temptation.

As she fed, the scent of his sweat... his earthy, masculine scent laced with battle flooded her senses. Her thighs tightened around him, her body pressing closer, her mind swirling in the haze of desire and hunger.

She knew he didn't see her that way. She knew his heart belonged elsewhere. But right now, she didn't care.

She wanted him. All of him. For herself.

Finally, her body reached its limit. Her breathing slowed. Her grip loosened. And reluctantly, she pulled away from his neck, licking the last trace of golden blood from her lips. She leaned back slightly, still seated on him, their eyes locked in a heavy silence.

Rex studied her for a moment, a faint smile playing at the corner of his mouth. He reached up and gently caressed her cheek, wiping the blood from the corner of her mouth with his thumb.

"You really are a spoiled little brat sometimes," he murmured with a touch of fondness.

Then, glancing down at the medical wing clothes she still wore, he chuckled. "Now then… I hope you understand I can't let you back into battle dressed in hospital pajamas."

After speaking, Rex gently placed his large, calloused hand on Lyra's chest. The touch, though brief and clinical, made her heart skip a beat.

But before she could react, before her cheeks could even flush, the living metal from his palm sprang to life. Like a living river of liquid armor, it spread across her skin in smooth, controlled waves, wrapping around her body from head to toe.

In seconds, her hospital clothes vanished beneath a sleek new form. The armor locked into place with a faint hiss of steam, the plating sculpted to fit her perfectly, powerful yet elegant... just like her.

Two minutes later, Lyra was fully suited in a version of Rex's own powerful battle armor. It gleamed faintly with the same living nanometal finish, pulsing softly with energy, and shaped her silhouette in all the right ways while still looking like a proper instrument of war.

Rex gave her a once-over; his golden eyes remained calm but calculative.

"This power armor has a superior shielding system," he explained. "It also enhances all your physical capabilities by at least thirty percent. Strength, speed, agility, reflexes, you name it. But... it consumes a lot of energy. I can recharge mine while fighting. You can't."

He walked closer and gently lifted her down from his lap, setting her feet back on the floor with surprising tenderness.

"So," he said, his voice dropping a note, "only use the enhancement systems when you really need them."

Then, without another word, he turned on his heel and walked toward the exit of the transport ship. As he moved, the living armor swarmed over his body again like a second skin, wrapping him in his full battle form, wings included. The moment he stepped outside, the air exploded in violence.

A barrage of crimson laser bolts rained down from above, forcing Rex to raise his armored wings instinctively. The metallic appendages shielded both him and Lyra from the attack, sizzling as they absorbed the heat and impact.

"Tsk… And who the hell are these bastards?" Rex muttered, his voice echoing behind his helm as the lasers died down.

Right then, a small figure landed beside them with a soft thud. It was Mini Cleo, in her battle doll form, petite yet dangerous, and glowing with too much energy for her small frame.

"Boss!" she said cheerfully, her synthetic pigtails bouncing. "The Original said a new enemy force has arrived. They're already firing on us, and it looks like they're working with the mercenaries!"

Rex narrowed his eyes beneath his helmet.

"Do we know who they are?" he asked while raising one hand to summon his claymore. The weapon appeared in a flash of nanomachines, forming from the hilt outward, pulsing with energy.

"Not yet," Mini Cleo said with a chirpy smile that was both adorable and mildly disturbing. "Their fleet doesn't fly any flag or show any ID marks. We'll need to capture some of their soldiers alive. Once I have their brains, I'll do a little... digging."

Her warm, innocent smile didn't match the menace behind her words.

Rex reached down and gently ruffled her synthetic hair. "Lyra," he said, "help this little time bomb with her task."

Lyra, now fully armored, gave a nod. "Understood."