Side Story 2 — "Waking Flesh"
(Alaric × Alt Cunningham — Hidden NetSafehouse)
Alt's eyes flickered open — synthetic lenses adjusting to the dim, flickering light of the NetSafehouse. Her new body, sleek, engineered for perfection, hummed with latent power. Every movement felt… electric.
Alaric leaned against the steel frame of the doorway, arms crossed, eyes tracing every inch of her reconstructed form. "Welcome back… Altiera."
Her head tilted, gaze sharp, unblinking. "You risked everything for this."
Alaric smirked, stepping forward. "I make a habit of rewriting endings."
Her lips curved into a dangerous smile. "Then rewrite mine."
The air cracked between them as Alt surged forward, fingers gripping his collar, dragging him into a fierce kiss. It wasn't tender — it was a collision of code and flesh, of raw need clashing against cold defiance.
Alaric met her hunger with his own, gripping her waist, spinning her to the steel wall. Alt gasped, body arching into his as if craving the pressure, the control.
"You want to feel alive?" he growled, his voice low in her ear.
"Make me," she dared, nails biting into his shoulders.
Clothes fell in tatters — a blur of tearing fabric and whispered curses. Her body, flawless and too perfect for this world, trembled under his touch, skin heating with the rush of sensation she'd once forgotten.
Alaric pinned her against the cold steel, lips dragging down her neck, his hands roaming like a man claiming territory. Alt's soft moan slipped free — a sound half-forgotten in the Net's endless hum.
He entered her slow — deliberate — stretching her with a size that made her gasp sharp against his mouth.
"Fuck—" she breathed, voice fractured with shock and wild hunger.
Alaric smirked darkly, lips brushing her ear. "Alive enough for you?"
Alt's body answered before she could — hips rocking in time with his relentless rhythm. Every thrust sent shivers of sensation through her wired nerves, every movement pulling moans from lips used to silence. She clung to him, losing herself in the overwhelming tide of sensation, in the raw, primal connection she hadn't dared believe possible.
When release finally crashed over her — hard, sharp, undeniable — her cry echoed off the steel walls.
Alaric held her close, his body shuddering with his own climax, his breath hot against her skin.
Alt's eyes met his, darkened with something real — not code, not algorithm… but raw, human hunger.
"You make me human," she whispered, voice hoarse.
Alaric kissed her slow, his hand cupping her jaw. "No… I make you mine."
---