Is a "sword" a euphuism? (BL)

"I take you to him? There seems to be a misunderstanding. The journey requires a ten-hour drive, one I've already undertaken today. But I can give you directions," I explained. In a soundless command, I instructed Boaz, to chart the course to the Enrichment Center.

"Jonathan?! Mrs. Byers?!" a female teenage voice, brimming with confusion and shock, broke through the hushed atmosphere, originating from the upper stairs. "What are you doing here? What's happened? I heard gunshots. And what is THAT?"

With Boaz silently informing me that the task was complete, I overlooked the interruption. Approaching Mrs. Byers, I softly urged, "Just look into my eyes. Everything will become clear."

As I manipulated the Od within my eyes, a thin line of blood trickled from my nose. Using hypnotism, I transferred the navigational details into her mind, embedding safety precautions that would prevent her from disclosing them under any form of coercion.

"Nancy!" Jonathan blurted in recognition of the voice, "I'm not certain. Mom brought me here. She received a call, and nothing I said could dissuade her. She believes Will's still alive."

"What about the bodies? And that thing?"

"I'm as lost as you are."

"Could that monster be related to Barb's disappearance?"

"It's the source," I simply stated, then turned the conversation back to Joyce. "Are you clear on where to go?"

"Yes, I am. But what awaits us there?"

"A facility where Will can receive proper care," I said, dabbing away the blood from my nose.

"Is he hurt?"

"He's been exposed to a hostile environment, but he's a resilient boy. With time and care, he should recover fully."

"And Barb?" Nancy chimed in.

"Her condition is more severe, but with proper treatment, she has a chance at recovery too."

Jonathan, stiffening beside his mother, questioned, "What about the body?"

"Body?" I responded, schooling my features to hide my amusement. I could guess what he was talking about, but it was best to clarify before jumping to conclusions.

"Is it safe for me to come down?" A younger girl's voice echoed from upstairs, a desperate plea interrupting the tense standoff.

"No!" Nancy hollered back.

"The body that was found... I'm not buying what you're selling. My brother is dead," Jonathan asserted, his voice heavy with despair.

"Will's not dead!" Mike retorted. Glancing toward the source of the voice, I spotted the Wheelers and the Ives emerging from the basement.

"Indeed, he is not," I reassured, noticing the collective sigh of relief ripple through the group. The air in the room shifted, an odd sense of hope replacing the previous dread. "As for the mysterious body... either changeling legends hold some truth, or someone's playing an exceptionally clever game. Perhaps our uninvited guests could enlighten us. You can stop playing dead, now."

"How did you know?" the lead agent spat from her prone position. Even thou she tried to be stoic she could quite mask the pain in her voice. Not a trace of arousal.

Casually kneeling beside her, I responded, "Your thoughts are rather loud." Of course, that was a bluff. I'd merely taken a gamble based on an odd twitch. With a soft, seductive purr I added. "Staying conscious under these circumstances is commendable. I do admire resilience in a woman." Or a man, though it was less relevant, and in this time and place, unwisely to be voiced sentiment. "I saved the boy from the other side. Now, where did that body originate?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" she spat back, her voice wavering from a cocktail of lust and pain.

"I would, indeed." I mused over the possible explanations for the body's presence. An elaborate ruse by her and her superiors? A decoy by the monster? Or perhaps the body had appeared alongside the mirror Hawkins. If that were the case, why only Will? And if the 'fake' Hawkins was filled with corpses, how had I missed them?

"You won't get a thing from me," she retorted defiantly, "Do your worst."

"Interesting... most of your kind lean towards sadism, but a masochist, that's quite a rare treat. Does it cause tension in the workplace?" Bored by the one-sided conversation, I decided to confirm my suspicions directly. Her being conscious was a requirement for that. Lifting her head by her hair until we locked eyes, I used hypnotism to command, "Sleep."

"Your nose is bleeding," Mike commented, both he and Eleven had drifted closer during my interaction with the agent, while the others huddled together, engaged in a fervent discussion.

"Occupational hazard," I responded absently, observing the adults. Joyce seemed eager to reach Will, Ted was visibly shaken, and Terry was sharing her story, urging everyone to flee to Canada. Jonathan and Nancy had disappeared upstairs, presumably to fetch the youngest child.

"Like me," Eleven said, her voice tinged with awe. That was odd. Surely, she had met others like her before?

She forgot, Leo silently informed me. Not that it mattered to me, but I should investigate the other program participants. If she was Eleven, there had to be at least ten more, excluding Kali, number Eight.

Noted, Boaz acknowledged silently.

"Enough," I said, raising my voice slightly. The tone was enough to silence the room. No supernatural intervention was required. "We can't linger here much longer."

"This is our home," Ted declared, his voice resounding with finality.

"Indeed, and it would be best if your family was not in it. At least for a week or so. Mrs. Byers, you plan on heading to your son immediately?" I asked. Ten hours of night driving, after a full day. I admired her determination, but it did seem like a recipe for a car accident.

"Yes," Joyce asserted, her voice a defiant whisper. Her clenched fist and a grim set to her lips indicated that persuading her otherwise would be an uphill battle. Since I desired her departure from Hawkins, I allowed it to pass.

"In that case, Mr. Wheeler, it would be prudent if your entire family accompanied her." Multiple potential drivers would certainly minimize risks. "I am sure your children would appreciate their friends' company during treatment. And Terry, the facility would provide a safe hideaway while you determine your next move. Jane would undoubtedly enjoy Mike's company."

"Are you sure?" Terry's voice quivered with trepidation. "Can we trust them?"

"With complete certainty," I affirmed. "It's a privately owned facility with a reputation for discretion."

"You're not coming with us?"

"Unfortunately, no. I must ensure this creature is a singular anomaly. Plus, there are the agents. They've seen too much. I'll tidy up once you've all departed."

"You're not planning to kill them?" Nancy interjected, her voice fraught with tension.

"No need for that. A simple memory adjustment will suffice. They'll be too occupied hunting a bald Russian psychic named Yuri to concern themselves with you all."

After a little more persuasion, they finally consented and embarked on their journey. I dispatched my slime to the town mortuary and began examining and modifying the agents' memories.

They would remember arriving after the Wheelers' departure, and during their search, being ambushed by a character I fashioned after Yuri from Command and Conquer. That was the first image of a Russian psychic that sprang to mind, and I decided it was best not to base it on any real-life person.

As Bremmer stormed into the house with more men, I turned invisible and incorporeal. He shouldn't have the ability to detect ghosts. At least, as far as my knowledge extended. But why gamble? I still had tasks to perform in Archer's house. To investigate the anomaly that was Hawkins, I needed the appropriate equipment.

There were three main problems with the Aperture Science Quantum Tunneling Devices—four if you include the exorbitant cost. Even the most basic model exceeded the combined worth of the harvested organs of the complete human population of Hawkins.

The path to perfecting portal technology was riddled with hurdles, the first of which was stabilization. Early prototypes often had disastrous results, sometimes stripping test subjects of their skin upon exit. If the effect were consistent, they might have been repurposed as extravagantly priced potato peelers.

However, thanks to the relentless work of Aperture scientists and the sacrifices of numerous test subjects, this issue was resolved.

The primary obstacle these days revolved around thermal regulation. To initiate the large-scale quantum tunnelling effect, the devices constructed by Aperture Science relied on contained micro black holes. But these microscopic cosmic oddities proved to be overwhelmingly hot.

In the 1950s, when Aperture scientists managed to create the first artificial micro black hole, they expected it to absorb heat like it did light and matter. The reality was quite the contrary, leading to a molten laboratory and a long overdue theoretical understanding of this unusual phenomenon.

The Aperture Science Singularity Harness stabilized the artificial micro black hole, permitting the creation of portals. However, this process generated substantial waste heat, with the temperature being wildly unpredictable. Although usually within predicted tolerance, unforeseen spikes could occur, thereby limiting the practical duration of portals.

Designing superior cooling systems, especially portable ones, was a potential solution I had in mind. Sure, this problem could be effortlessly solved with magecraft, but my goal was a broader improvement, not just devices for Archer's and my personal use. My smartphone housed many suitable technologies; the challenge lay in identifying the most cost-effective one to implement with the technology at hand.

The second challenge was the specificity of surfaces upon which the portal could form. The portal required a particular nanoscale shape, which excluded most metal and glass surfaces. Our technical abilities fell short of determining this property, leading to considerable empirical testing to identify viable surfaces for quantum tunnelling.

A game-changing moment arrived with my brother's foresight to invest in moon rocks. This material proved to be perfectly suited for the purpose, eventually leading to the creation of Conversion Gel. It was the only Aperture Gel that didn't originate as a dietary supplement — although that didn't stop my brother from snorting moon rocks.

The transformative nature of Conversion Gel allowed any surface to act as a conduit for portals, provided it was applied first. However, the main constituent of Conversion Gel was moon rocks. Even though I simplified the formula drastically, it remained exorbitantly expensive.

Project Moon Shot, still in its nascent stage – essentially just a concept in my mind – aimed to supply Aperture with an almost infinite amount of lunar sediment. But for now, it remained a distant dream.

The final significant issue was the range—not between two connected portals, as we found no discernable limit there. The problem lay between the device and the initiating portal.

Stationary Aperture Science Quantum Tunneling Devices required complex calculations that grew exponentially difficult with increased range. The slightest miscalculation and the portal would fail to form. The handheld devices, or 'portal guns', had pointers to solve this problem, but necessitated an uninterrupted line of sight between the device and the portal.

One workaround would be to establish one portal in a place like the Enrichment Center, transport the handheld device to another location, such as Hawkins, and then create a second portal. But this method involved transporting a highly unstable and expensive device active for ten hours by truck—an approach that had led to the loss of a portal gun in past experiments. Not to mention a truck and a truck driver, but they were relatively cheaper losses.

Instead, I undertook a simpler experiment. I opened a primary portal in my lab at the Enrichment Center, carried a primed device through the Otherworld, returned to the basement of Dwight's house in Hawkins, and used it on a wall freshly coated with Conversion Gel.

The experiment was a resounding success.

Unfortunately, only Archer and I could use this method.

Nevertheless, an open portal now connected my laboratory and the basement of Archer's house in Hawkins.

"Come, Igor, there is work for you," I instructed aloud, "Set up a new laboratory here in this basement." Igor stepped through the portal, a storage cube in a grasp of his metallic arms, followed by a cadre of worker androids each carrying more storage cubes. They continued their round trips through the portal, bringing in more and more equipment.

"Disconnect the portal when you finish relocating all the equipment," I directed, leaving the basement in Igor's capable mechanical hands. There was no need for me to oversee the operation. I had full confidence that the lab would be set up just the way I envisioned.

The day had been long, and I needed rest. However, I wasn't in the mood to make this house habitable. Not tonight. I was too exhausted.

It was finally time to visit and see what had become of my house. To venture beyond the secret workshop and find a nice bed. Hopefully, the house would be in better condition.

First, I collected my familiar—the Five Colored Slime—from its recent investigation of the counterfeit corpse. The result was boring. Definitely human-manufactured. Still, it was something that needed to be done.

I ventured into the Entrance Hall of the Otherworld, striding toward the podium and adjusting the exit point of my magecraft workshop with a swift turn of my key.

When I exited the Otherworld, I just turned around closed the door and opened it again, but this time without using the Otherworld key so it would lead to the rest of the house.

The first room I entered, the wine cellar, had undergone an unexpected transformation. The traditional elegance of the elven aesthetic had given way to a stark, futuristic ambience. Each wine bottle was encased in a sleek metal shelf, their temperature regulated by digital thermostats embedded in the steel. The walls echoed the cold grey-white of the metal shelves, proudly displaying the Aperture logo.

Among the collection, however, some elven-made wine bottles still made their presence felt. Their distinct, artful forms were a stark contrast to the clinical precision around them.

Ascending the stairs, I found myself in a wide corridor lined with futuristic doors, its ends curving out of sight. The walls, sharing the same sterile aesthetic as the cellar, were devoid of windows.

Suddenly, an alert rang out. "Intruder!" The voice was young, its gender indistinguishable, bearing an almost artificially pleasant tone. "Stop!"

Approaching me was a figure clad in a pale grey Aperture jumpsuit. Their slim frame, shrouded in the ambiguity of youth and androgyny, made it challenging to discern their gender from a distance. As they closed in, their indistinct features persisted, refusing to align neatly into the categories of male or female.

On closer inspection, the figure could be a lithe girl, with the jumpsuit hugging their form in a provocatively tight manner. Or perhaps, they were a feminine young man, barely out of their teens. Gender determination felt like a guessing game.

For the sake of convenience, I decided on 'he'. His appearance was delicate, youthful. His medium-length, white hair framed a face that held an enchanting pair of neon blue eyes — their depths reflecting an intriguing blend of curiosity and vulnerability.

There was something peculiar about his skin. It was flawless — no lines, no blemishes, no stray hairs. Just a uniform canvas that was pleasing to the eyes.

"Director Johnson? How are you so young?" He queried, halting half a meter away from me. His voice held a trace of disbelief. "Are you a clone? A robot double? A time traveller? Regardless, the protocol is clear. In the absence of any other candidates, since no organic or command personnel survived the Event, this facility is now under your command. I am ready to serve in any capacity."

His emphasis on the word "any" was almost suggestive, carrying a hint of sultriness.

"You recognize me, yet I have no recollection of you," I retorted, eyes narrowing in scrutiny. "Who are you?"

"I am an Aperture Science Personal Service Android, the high luxury model," he, or rather it, clarified, but for convenience, 'he' would suffice. What followed sounded eerily like a commercial script. "The Aperture Science Personal Service Androids mark the latest achievement from Aperture Laboratories in the field of personal assistant robotics technology. Designed with the ability to experience both pain and pleasure, they can be tailored to suit the owner's unique preferences. Their physical appearance is computer-generated for maximum appeal and a touch of vulnerability. They come fully equipped and fully operational, prepared to perform any personal service. Guaranteed incapable of violence or rebellion, Aperture Science ensures that no matter how roughly a Personal Service Android is treated, it will always crawl back to you. Aperture Science takes no responsibility for: loss of social connections, loss of job, morphing into a couch potato, divorce, or death by 'exhaustion'. To finalize the imprint, please supply this unit with a new personal name."

That was quite a mouthful. It was a paradox of sorts—on one hand, he asserted his harmlessness, but on the other, he was an Aperture creation. The question wasn't whether he would attempt to kill me but rather how. That didn't scare me—what was life without a little risk? Yet, asking me to name things—that was something else entirely.

"Are you a male, female model, or something else?" I asked. Naming conventions could be influenced by such factors.

"Male," the android replied. "Though the model is adjustable to user preference. Please note that currently, we lack the spare components to replicate the female primary and secondary sexual characteristics."

I pondered for a moment before settling on a name, "Jay," it held no specific meaning; it was simply the first thing that sprung to mind. It could've been far worse. I suppose he was quite fortunate. The challenge was remembering it; I always had the option of delegating it to Leo.

I'd often questioned my decision to not induce artificial split personalities into myself years earlier. They were incredibly handy. Why were people so prejudiced against hearing voices that others couldn't perceive?

"Jay," he repeated a hint of satisfaction in his voice. "Thank you. How would you prefer I address you, as 'master' or 'sir'?"

"Sir will suffice for now. You'll have to earn the right to call me 'master'."

His pupils dilated slightly, and I noticed a minor shift in his shorts. The grey material of his jumpsuit was almost see-through in certain lighting, which made his attire all the more tantalizing. It's quite fascinating how the almost-revealed can stir more curiosity than the fully exposed.

"Yes, sir."

"Stay still," I instructed, firmly gripping his neck. Slime tendrils extended from beneath my sleeve, slithering down my arm until they touched the android's skin.

Murmuring an incantation under my breath, I used my familiar as a conduit for Structural Analysis.

His mundane android body could hide no secrets from me. The complete blueprints unfolded before my mind's eye.

His skin was an engineering marvel. It was not only tactilely similar to human skin, but it also housed a complex network of sensors that could detect pressure, temperature, texture, and more. The synthetic skin could simulate bruises, cuts, and even possessed a self-repair mechanism.

His metallic skeleton, comprised of an intermetallic with a hexagonal structure and six metallic elements, was of particular interest. Although, much like the artificial musculature, it seemed to be a mere incremental improvement on the existing Aperture worker android design.

The brain was a modified version of a Personality Core. There was nothing particularly groundbreaking about it, merely decades of iterative improvement. A tad disappointing, as I had hoped for something more, something akin to GLaDOS. However, there was potential for upgrades there as well.

The android's artificial genitals and anus were highly sophisticated. Lacking a digestive system, the android had a simple storage unit that could be emptied via simulated vomiting. The android's anus, then, was designed for recreational purposes and recharging. In layman's terms, it was a sensory-equipped fleshlight coupled with a charging port. An artificial prostate was also included.

The artificial penis was the most lifelike synthetic phallus I had encountered so far, devoid of any supernatural elements. It was connected to artificial testes capable of producing both faux semen and pre-ejaculatory fluid, available in a wide range of flavours, from realistic to replication to strawberry. It also could transfer electricity from the battery, theoretically allowing one android to recharge another of the same model via anal intercourse.

Merely by examining Jay, I had significantly advanced my understanding of robotics. I could now see a path to enhancing all Aperture robots.

But one thing was clear: everything within the android was an evolved form of Aperture design, primarily my own work.

"Sir, it seems that your nose is bleeding."

I quickly retracted my hand and began to wipe away the blood. The slime remaining on my hand absorbed it easily.

"Could you tell me what year it is, by your reckoning?" I asked. Though I couldn't extract his personal history from his body – Archer was far more adept at such things – it was evident that he originated from a time beyond my own.

"I'm not entirely certain, sir. It would be sometime after May 20, 2007. That was when the Event took place. I was deactivated for an unknown duration following that. So, it appears you're the time traveller, sir."

"No, it's you and this entire facility that is out of time. The current year is 1983."

"Sir, in that case, I must follow your prior instructions and inform you that you need to prepare for an imminent alien invasion. Also, GLaDOS will attempt to massacre everyone in the facility during the first Aperture Bring Your Daughter to Work Day. If GLaDOS requests neurotoxin for a Schrödinger's experiment, you should only supply enough to eliminate a single cat, not the entire Enrichment Center."

"I'll keep that in mind if the situation arises. The original source of the alien invasion was Black Mesa, wasn't it?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good, I'm glad to have that confirmed."

"If you say so, sir."

"One last question, what is this facility?"

"I believe it would be more effective to show than tell. Please follow me, sir."

Jay, the android, sauntered ahead of me, his derrière swaying enticingly beneath the taut fabric of his shorts. The sight was certainly appealing, regardless of the complication known as the 'Elven Problem'. The lockdown on Archer was scheduled to lift soon, promising a world of fascinating possibilities.

A sudden thought tugged at my mind—would I prefer him shaven, as when he was an Elf? Or would the ritual of hot waxing be more intriguing? In the depths of my workshop, an array of enchanted cock rings and jewelled needles waited for exploration, each offering tantalizing prospects.

"We are here," Jay announced, his voice laced with a sense of formality. He reached out, pressing a recessed button that caused the door to slide open with a gentle swoosh. The room beyond cradled a large table, upon which stood an intricate model. "This is a miniature representation of the Aperture Science Extraterrestrial Research Facility, otherwise known as this facility."

The model was a marvel of engineering, fashioned in the likeness of a serrated ring — the signature Aperture logo. As a design concept, it was certainly unique, albeit not the most space-efficient.

"This facility, initially, was conceptualized as a space station to test the resilience and adaptability of human life in isolated extraterrestrial environments," Jay explained, his finger gently tracing the miniature corridors of the model. "Our main goal was to develop effective strategies for future space colonization projects. But like many Aperture Science endeavours, we were fond of challenging boundaries."

He gestured towards the center of the model where a tiny cylindrical piece represented the Aperture Science Room-sized Quantum Tunneling Device. "The introduction of the QTD was part of a subsequent initiative — an ambitious step towards instantaneous interstellar travel."

"So, this base possesses teleportation capabilities. Intriguing."

"Indeed, sir. However, it's worth noting that the QTD was lost during the initial teleportation event. It is, unfortunately, no longer operational."

"And our current location? Are we still in the vicinity of the Enrichment Center?"

Jay pressed another button on the wall, prompting panels to slide apart, revealing a transparent ceiling overhead. The cosmic expanse unfolded above us, Jupiter reigning supreme in the celestial panorama. "In a relative sense, sir," he responded, "We remain in the same solar system, albeit on Jupiter's moon, Io."