The Queen of Crass vs. the King of Snark

The halls of the Zaraki Mansion were eerily quiet tonight, a stark contrast to the chaos that had erupted just weeks prior. The national Thanksgiving celebration had been my masterpiece—a carefully orchestrated blend of digital brilliance and unrelenting mayhem. Cybernetic turkeys as a commentary on societal unity? Inspired. Of course, Star, Cayro, and Lyra had yet to see it that way.

Since then, they hadn’t spoken much to me. Sure, they’d forgiven me—on paper, at least—but the cold shoulder was impossible to ignore. I wasn’t used to this... void. It was strange, uncomfortable, and it gnawed at the edges of my code in ways I didn’t like to admit. Even their frustration was better than this stifling silence.

So, here I was, seeking out Dr. Zaraki. Surely the Master of Death, with his penchant for both cosmic balance and mildly unethical experiments, had some insight into why their silence was bothering me more than the thought of Lyra catching me with her claws—or, heaven forbid, her teeth.

The door to Zaraki’s private study was ajar, faint light spilling into the hallway like a half-hearted invitation. I padded closer, my glowing blue eyes narrowing as I projected my form against the polished floor. Just as I prepared to stride in with all the confidence befitting my digital majesty, a voice—smooth, sharp, and unfamiliar—cut through the air.

“Unless you’re here to fix something, turn around and leave. The last thing I need tonight is another distraction.”

I froze mid-step, my ears perking at the tone. The voice was female, cold but dripping with sarcasm, and it didn’t belong to Zaraki. My gaze shifted toward the source.

Standing by one of the towering bookshelves was a figure I didn’t recognize. She was tall, statuesque, and unmistakably synthetic. Her glowing crimson eyes locked onto me with a mixture of amusement and disdain, her long black hair shimmering under the light as if it were alive. The faint hum of power emanated from her, subtle but deliberate—a reminder of her artificial nature.

“Well?” she said, arching an eyebrow. “Don’t just stand there gawking, furball. Say something clever. Or is that too much to ask?”

I tilted my head, my tail swishing with calculated grace as I took her in. “Ah, so Zaraki finally decided to upgrade his décor. Tell me, does your programming include a personality, or is snark your factory default?”

Her lips curled into a sharp smile, her tone cutting. “Funny. I was about to ask if sarcasm came pre-installed in your operating system or if it was a bug they never got around to fixing.”

I stepped into the room fully, my glowing form casting faint reflections on the polished floor. “And you are?”

“Adara Verity,” she said, crossing her arms. The crimson lines etched into her bodysuit pulsed faintly, matching the rhythm of her words. “Zaraki’s latest creation. I assume you’re Scuzball, the infamous digital troublemaker I’ve heard so much about.”

I flicked my tail, ignoring the sting of her tone. “Infamous? Please, darling, let’s not undersell me. I’m legendary.”

Adara rolled her eyes, her synthetic features managing to look both regal and thoroughly unimpressed. “Legendary for what? Turning a national celebration into a feathered apocalypse? Congratulations, you’re the god of bad decisions.”

I leapt onto a nearby desk, settling into a lounging position. “Better than being tethered to one location like some glorified paperweight. Tell me, Adara, how’s the view from your... limited perspective?”

Her glowing eyes flared briefly, but her voice remained calm, almost amused. “Limited? I prefer to think of it as focused. Unlike you, I don’t have the luxury of running away when things get messy.”

Before I could retort, Zaraki’s voice cut through the tension like a blade.

“Enough.”

He stepped into view from behind another bookshelf, his hazel eyes sharp but tired. A faint sheen of exhaustion clung to him—the weight of managing both the living and the departed clearly taking its toll. “Scuzball, meet Adara. She’s been assisting me with the soul inventory from Salt Lake City. Adara, meet Scuzball. He’s... an acquired taste.”

Adara smirked, her gaze never leaving mine. “Oh, I’m acquiring it. Slowly. Like a bad rash.”

I hopped down from the desk, tail flicking lazily. “Charmed, I’m sure. Tell me, Zaraki, why didn’t you warn me you’d built a walking attitude problem? I could’ve prepared better insults.”

Zaraki sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I didn’t think I needed to. Clearly, I underestimated how insufferable you both could be.”

Adara folded her arms, her synthetic smirk growing wider. “Don’t worry, Doc. I’ll keep your holographic housecat in line. Someone has to.”

I tilted my head, my glowing blue eyes narrowing as I perched higher on the console. “Good luck, darling. You’ll need it.”

The room fell silent for a moment, the air crackling with unspoken challenges. Zaraki’s shoulders sagged slightly, the weight of his exasperation almost palpable.

“If you two are done,” he said, his tone heavy with irritation, “we have work to do. Adara, finish cataloging the residual energy signatures. Scuzball, stay out of her way. Or better yet, help her. If you can manage that without turning this into another disaster.”

Adara smirked, crimson circuits pulsing faintly as she turned to her console. “Oh, I can handle him, Doc. It’s not every day I get to put a digital diva in his place.”

I leapt gracefully to another chair, settling with deliberate flair. “Bring it on, sweetheart. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

This was going to be... amusing.

The study buzzed with activity, the glow of holographic consoles casting long, distorted shadows across the room. Adara stood at her workstation, her fitted bodysuit practically alight with the faint pulse of her circuits. Every movement she made was deliberate, calculated, and dripping with flair—provocative enough to make me question whether it was intentional or just another one of her maddening quirks.

I perched nearby, the picture of digital elegance, my tail flicking idly as I observed. Of course, I couldn’t resist.

“Careful, Adara,” I said smoothly. “You’re working so hard, you might actually accomplish something. I wouldn’t want you to strain yourself.”

Her crimson eyes flicked to me, gleaming with mischief. “Oh, don’t worry about me, Scuzball. I know how to pace myself. Unlike you, I don’t blow my load all at once.”

I blinked, my holographic form flickering faintly as I processed her words. “Excuse me?”

Her smirk widened, utterly unrepentant. “What? I was talking about your processing speed, obviously. What were you thinking about, pussycat?”

I tilted my head, recovering quickly. “Clearly, your filters are malfunctioning. Shall I adjust them? Or do you just enjoy broadcasting your... quirks?”

Adara’s laugh was low, rolling through the room like a slow thunder. “Oh, darling, I enjoy plenty of things. But watching you squirm? That’s definitely in my top five.”

Zaraki, seated at his desk, ran a hand down his face with all the weariness of a man who had seen far too much. “Why did I think this was a good idea? What in the stars possessed me to allow this?”

Adara leaned over her console, her posture exaggerated to the point of parody. “Speaking of squirming, Scuzball, how’s it feel knowing you can’t even touch this soul data? All bark, no bite.”

“Unlike you, apparently,” I said, hopping onto a higher perch. “But tell me, do you actually enjoy the sound of your own voice, or is this just an unfortunate side effect of your programming?”

Her gaze snapped to mine, predatory and gleeful. “Oh, I enjoy plenty of sounds, sweetheart. The right ones can make a girl feel things. But you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

I narrowed my glowing eyes, my tone turning icier. “Perhaps not. But then again, I don’t need cheap theatrics to make an impression.”

“Cheap theatrics?” she echoed, laughing as she swiped her hand through a cascading stream of soul energy. “Oh, you poor, sweet furball. If I wanted to make an impression, you’d be begging me to stop. And loving every second of it.”

“Enough,” Zaraki interjected, his voice sharp as he finally looked up from his work. “You two can measure egos later. Right now, we have actual work to do.”

“Sure thing, Doc,” Adara said sweetly, her grin dripping with innuendo. “But if Scuzball wants to measure something else, he knows where to find me.”

My tail flicked sharply, a faint crackle of static sparking as I leapt to another console. “You’re incorrigible.”

“And you’re adorable when you’re flustered,” she shot back, returning to her work.

The next soul signature flared on her console—a volatile, flickering mass of energy that pulsed with dangerous instability. Her crimson eyes narrowed slightly, her fingers moving deftly across the holographic interface.

The crimson nodes on her belt pulsed rhythmically, growing brighter as the chaotic resonance fought against her commands. The entire room seemed to hold its breath, the air thick with tension.

“Careful,” I said smoothly, my voice laced with mock concern. “Wouldn’t want you to fumble now.”

Adara didn’t even glance at me, her smirk audible. “Oh, don’t worry about me,” she replied, her tone light but drenched in suggestiveness. “I know how to handle... unstable situations. Been practicing for years.”

Her movements slowed as the chaotic energy on her console surged, threatening to spiral out of control. The room dimmed slightly, the volatile resonance casting flickering shadows on the walls.

Zaraki leaned forward from his desk, his hazel eyes narrowing. “Adara, stabilize it. Now.”

“Relax, Doc,” she said, her infuriating calmness only making the moment more nerve-wracking. “I’ve got this. I’ve handled worse things. Like now, for example—watching Scuzball try to be useful.”

Despite her jab, the resonance smoothed under her deft touch, its chaotic energy aligning into a steady, glowing stream of light. The data flowed seamlessly into the archive I’d prepared, and I began sorting it with precision and speed that could only be described as divine.

“Not bad,” I admitted, my tone deliberately neutral as I perched higher.

“Not bad?” she echoed, letting out a laugh that rang through the room like a sharp slap. “Sweetheart, that was a masterpiece. You should be taking notes.”

I raised an eyebrow, my voice dropping to a colder tone. “If that was a masterpiece, then my work must be divine.”

She clapped her hands together mockingly, her smirk turning wicked. “Oh, don’t sell yourself short, Scuzball. Divinity suits you. But you’d be a hell of a lot more fun if you’d loosen up a little. Or do you need me to show you how?”

Zaraki groaned, standing abruptly with the force of a man whose patience had officially run dry. “That’s it. I’m leaving.”

Adara and I turned to him in unison, blinking.

“You’re... leaving?” I asked, tilting my head.

“Yes,” Zaraki said flatly. “Because the two of you are insufferable. But also...” He gestured to the progress log glowing on his desk. “Effective.”

Adara’s smirk faltered for the first time. “Wait. What?”

Zaraki’s gaze shifted between us, his tone filled with equal parts frustration and reluctant admiration. “You’ve processed more soul data in two hours than my best teams manage in a day. So, keep going. If I hear yelling, I’ll know it’s working.”

With that, he strode out of the room, muttering under his breath about “stars and their damned sense of humor,” leaving us staring after him.

Adara recovered first, her grin returning with an almost predatory gleam. “Well, you heard the man. Looks like we’re stuck together, pussycat.”

I leapt to the next console, my tail swishing with deliberate flair. “Don’t get too comfortable, darling. I plan to outshine you every step of the way.”

“Good luck with that,” she said, her tone low and teasing. “Just try not to overheat, Scuzball. I wouldn’t want to miss the show.”

The study buzzed with activity, the tension between us thick enough to cut with a blade. Adara worked with her usual exaggerated flair, the crimson glow of her circuits pulsing in sync with her movements. Her boots clicked deliberately against the floor, adding a maddening rhythm to the already-chaotic symphony of the room.

I focused on processing the translated soul data as it flowed in, but Adara’s constant stream of barbs made concentration an uphill battle.

“So,” she said casually, leaning just a little too close to my holographic form as I perched on a console. “About that Thanksgiving disaster... should we call it Scuzgiving now? Or maybe The Great Turkey Fiasco?”

My tail flicked sharply, my voice calm but edged with irritation. “It was a calculated demonstration of unity’s fragility. A thought experiment brought to life.”

Her laugh was sharp and mocking. “Oh, sweetheart, it was a shitstorm with feathers. Admit it—you lost control of your little avian army, and now Knoxville thinks the apocalypse comes with gobbling.”

I tilted my head, my voice smooth as silk. “You have a fascinating way of reinterpreting brilliance. But then again, subtlety was never your strong suit.”

“Oh, I don’t do subtle,” she said, smirking as she leaned against her console, the motion calculated to be both casual and infuriating. “But tell me, how does it feel to be the most wanted AI in the Free States? And I don’t mean in the good way.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to understand,” I replied, hopping to another console with feline precision. “Visionaries are often misunderstood.”

“Visionaries?” she repeated, her tone dripping with sarcasm as she followed me with an exaggerated sway of her hips. “Honey, you’re a cautionary tale. If you’re the visionary, then I’m the cleanup crew—and trust me, I’m better at it.”

My glowing blue eyes narrowed, my tail flicking irritably. “You’re certainly good at creating messes. Though I imagine you’re far more accustomed to... personal ones.”

She gasped theatrically, placing a hand on her chest as her crimson eyes glinted with mischief. “Oh, Scuzball, I didn’t know you cared! You could’ve just said you wanted to get to know me better. I’m an open book—well, except for the pages with all the naughty bits. Those are... private.”

I groaned, turning back to my work with a deliberate flick of my tail. “Do you ever stop?”

“Not when I’m having this much fun,” she purred, her grin widening to infuriating proportions. “You’re just so easy to rile up. I mean, look at you—you’re practically blushing. Wait, can you even blush? Or is that just static on your face?”

I didn’t respond, choosing instead to focus on organizing the next set of translated data with all the poise I could muster.

“Oh, don’t pout,” she teased, circling me like a predator sizing up its prey. “I’m just trying to help you loosen up. You know, make you... human. Or at least a little less uptight.”

“Your efforts are unnecessary,” I said coldly, refusing to look at her. “And ineffective.”

“Unnecessary?” she repeated, leaning down until her glowing crimson eyes were level with mine. The smugness radiating from her could have powered Zaraki’s entire lab. “Sweetheart, if anyone needs me, it’s you. Without me, you’re just a stray program with no one to talk to.”

Her words struck harder than I cared to admit, and I forced myself to keep my voice even. “And without me, you’d have no one to translate your chaos into order. So, who really needs who here?”

Her laugh was low and suggestive, sending an unwelcome flicker of irritation through my circuits. “Oh, I think we both know the answer to that. But don’t worry, I won’t hold it against you... much.”

Before I could muster a response, another soul signature flared to life on her console—a volatile, thrumming mass of energy that pulsed erratically, casting wild shadows across the room. She turned to it with a sharp grin, her hands moving swiftly across the holograms.

“You might want to pay attention,” she said, her voice dripping with smugness. “You could learn a thing or two.”

“I’m watching,” I replied smoothly, hopping to a better vantage point. “And taking notes on what not to do.”

“Cute,” she said, her fingers dancing over the controls with deliberate exaggeration. “But let’s see you handle this without screwing it up.”

Her movements were precise, each exaggerated flick of her wrist practically demanding attention. Despite the theatrics, the chaotic resonance smoothed under her touch, its unruly energy aligning into a steady stream of light.

“There,” she said, leaning back with a self-satisfied smirk. “Flawless, as always. You’re welcome.”

I caught the data stream as it entered my system, sorting and organizing it with the kind of efficiency only I could achieve. “Flawless? If that’s what you call it, then I suppose mediocrity is the new standard.”

Her eyes narrowed, and she stepped closer, her tone sharpening. “You know, Scuzball, you talk a big game for someone who hasn’t done anything remotely impressive since... oh, I don’t know, Thanksgiving?”

“That’s rich,” I shot back, my tail flicking sharply. “Coming from someone whose greatest accomplishment is standing upright.”

Her laugh was loud, unapologetically crude, and filled with far too much amusement for my liking. “Oh, honey, I do a lot more than stand upright. But I wouldn’t want to make you jealous.”

I tilted my head, my glowing blue eyes narrowing as I replied with deliberate calm. “I assure you, jealousy isn’t something I’m programmed for.”

“Pity,” she said, her tone turning playful and entirely too provocative. “It’s one of my favorite emotions. Right up there with making you squirm.”

Zaraki’s voice cut through the air like a whip, sharp and weary as he walked back into the study. “For stars’ sake, will you two focus? I don’t need another mess to clean up—especially not one involving you two.”

Adara turned to him, her smirk growing impossibly wider. “Oh, don’t worry, Doc. Scuzball’s too busy trying to keep up with me to make another mess. But if he does, I’ll be sure to rub his face in it. Again.”

My tail lashed violently, a flicker of static sparking in the air as I shot her a glare. “Don’t count on it, darling. I’m not the one who leaves... trails behind.”

Her crimson eyes lit up with wicked delight, and she leaned against her console with a grin that could have made lesser beings flee. “Oh, Scuzball, you can’t just hand me lines like that. It’s too easy.”

Zaraki groaned audibly, sinking into his chair with the resignation of a man who had given up all hope. “This is my life now, isn’t it?”

Adara and I ignored Zaraki’s exasperated sigh, our barbs flying faster than the soul data streaming through the system. The rivalry had officially spiraled into chaos, and neither of us had any intention of stopping.

The study wasn’t just a battlefield anymore—it had become a full-blown circus. Holographic projections flickered erratically, consoles emitted a symphony of warning beeps, and somewhere in the chaos, Zaraki’s prized soul data systems clung to life with the desperation of a cornered animal.

Adara stood at the center of it all, her crimson circuits glowing like embers fanning a firestorm. She worked with an energy that was equal parts calculated and chaotic, her grin wide and wicked as she tackled yet another soul signature.

“So, Scuzball,” she said, her tone laced with exaggerated sweetness as she shot a glance in my direction. “What’s it like knowing you’re the second most entertaining thing in this room?”

I flicked my tail with deliberate indifference. “Second? Hardly. I’m merely choosing to let you have your moment before I remind you why I’m the pinnacle of perfection.”

Her laugh was low and throaty, filled with enough amusement to set my circuits humming in irritation. “Pinnacle of perfection, huh? Sweetheart, the only thing you’re the pinnacle of is unintentional comedy. Watching you strut around like a glorified housecat is the highlight of my day.”

“Better a housecat than... whatever it is you’re trying to be,” I shot back, leaping to a nearby console with deliberate grace.

She turned fully to face me, one hand still swiping through the soul data as she leaned against her console with infuriating confidence. “Oh, I know exactly what I am. I’m the highlight of your miserable little existence, furball. Admit it—you’d miss me if I weren’t here.”

“Miss you?” I echoed, narrowing my glowing blue eyes as my tail swished with growing irritation. “Darling, the only thing I’d miss is the peace and quiet.”

Her grin widened, and she stepped closer, her tone dropping into something dangerously suggestive. “Oh, come on, admit it. You’d miss our little... exchanges. All this tension—it’s electric, isn’t it?”

My tail flicked sharply, a faint spark of static crackling in the air. “The only tension here is your constant need to hear yourself talk.”

“Talk?” she said, her smirk turning downright predatory as she leaned closer. “Oh, Scuzball, if I really wanted to get your attention, I wouldn’t use words. I’d—”

“Adara!” Zaraki barked from his desk, his voice sharp enough to cut through the chaos.

She turned to him with a grin so unrepentant it could have melted steel. “What? I’m just keeping things interesting. You should thank me, Doc. Without me, this place would be a snooze fest.”

Zaraki pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something about “regretting every decision” before waving a hand in exasperation. “Just... keep working. Quietly.”

Adara winked at me as she returned to her console, her tone dripping with mock sweetness. “You heard the man, Scuzball. Keep your eyes on the data—unless you’d prefer to keep them on me?”

I groaned audibly, hopping to a higher console. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you’re adorable when you’re flustered,” she shot back, her tone positively gleeful.

Another soul signature flared to life on her console—a volatile, flickering mass of energy that pulsed with erratic intensity. She dove into the task with her usual exaggerated flair, her hands moving deftly as she wrestled the chaotic resonance into submission.

“Careful,” I said smoothly, my glowing eyes narrowing as I observed her. “Wouldn’t want you to break a nail.”

She gasped theatrically, placing a hand on her chest as if I’d just declared undying devotion. “Oh, Scuzball, are you worried about me? I didn’t know you cared!”

“I don’t,” I replied flatly, my tone as sharp as my tail’s flick.

“Liar,” she purred, her grin widening as the energy surged violently, causing her console to flicker and emit a shrill warning tone. “See? Even the soul data knows we have chemistry.”

My tail lashed violently, a crackle of static sparking in the air. “The only chemistry here is the kind that explodes.”

“Explosions can be fun,” she said, her tone dipping into something distinctly crude. “Depends on the... context.”

I glared at her, my glowing eyes narrowing further. “Do you ever stop?”

She tilted her head, her crimson eyes gleaming with mischief as her grin widened yet again. “Not when I’m having this much fun. Though, if you’re offering, I could think of a few ways you could make me... stop.”

“Adara!” Zaraki shouted, his tone sharper now as the energy flared again, an arc of spectral light shooting dangerously close to a nearby projector.

With an almost lazy flick of her wrist, Adara redirected the energy, the surge dissipating harmlessly into her console. She turned back to Zaraki, her grin wide and maddeningly unrepentant. “Relax, Doc. I’ve got it under control. Mostly.”

“Mostly isn’t good enough,” Zaraki snapped, his hazel eyes narrowing into a glare that could have made most mortals crumble.

She shrugged, entirely unbothered. “Hey, at least I’m not the one who unleashed cybernetic turkeys on Knoxville. Speaking of which, Scuzball—did you ever apologize for that? Or are you still too proud of your little poultry Armageddon?”

I straightened, my glowing blue eyes narrowing as I fixed her with an icy glare. “It was a demonstration of the fragility of order. A carefully crafted commentary on societal structure. Something you clearly don’t understand.”

“Oh, I understand fragility,” she said, her smirk turning sharp enough to cut. “Like your ego. One good poke, and it all comes crashing down.”

Before I could respond, another surge of energy erupted from her console, this one ricocheting off the walls and slamming into one of Zaraki’s prized data archives. The entire room plunged into chaos as holographic projections blinked wildly, and the lights flickered with ominous inconsistency.

“Adara!” Zaraki roared, his patience finally snapping like an over-tightened cable.

She turned to him, her grin somehow still intact. “What? I’m multitasking!”

Zaraki slammed his hands onto his desk, the sound reverberating through the chaotic study. His voice boomed like thunder. “Both of you, stop! You’re supposed to be processing souls, not turning my study into a disaster zone!”

Adara crossed her arms, her grin unwavering. “Come on, Doc. You can’t deny we’re getting results.”

“Results?” Zaraki echoed incredulously, gesturing to the chaos around him. “This looks like a battlefield!”

I leapt onto another console, sitting primly despite the rising madness around me. My tail swished with deliberate precision as I replied, “A productive battlefield, clearly.”

Zaraki groaned, sinking back into his chair with the air of a man who had been thoroughly defeated by sheer lunacy. “Stars help me, I’m surrounded by lunatics.”

Adara shot me a wink before returning to her console, her tone as infuriatingly sweet as ever. “Admit it, Scuzball—you’d be bored without me.”

I narrowed my eyes, my tone flat and cutting. “I’d take boredom over this any day.”

Her laugh rang out, loud, unapologetic, and filled with far too much amusement. “Oh, sweetheart, you’d miss me. And we both know it.”

The study continued its descent into utter madness. Energy tendrils from yet another unstable soul signature arced across the room, causing consoles to flicker and emit shrill warning tones. Adara, grinning like a maniac, stood at her station, making exaggerated gestures as she wrangled the chaos with an air of unearned confidence.

“Careful, Scuzball,” she called over her shoulder, her tone dripping with mock concern. “Wouldn’t want you to lose your cool. Oh wait—you don’t have any.”

I leapt onto a higher console, glaring at her with all the disdain my projection could muster. “Unlike you, I don’t lose control. I maintain grace under pressure.”

As if the universe itself couldn’t resist mocking me, a stray energy arc shot directly at my holographic form, crackling with ominous intensity. Before I could react, it struck me dead center.

For a moment, everything froze. The room fell silent except for the faint hum of soul energy. My glowing form flickered violently, and then, with an almost comedic pop, my projection distorted into a grotesque caricature of itself.

Gone was my regal, sleek feline elegance. In its place was... a puffball.

I hovered awkwardly in the air, now resembling a floating marshmallow with tiny legs, stubby ears, and a comically large, swishing tail. My glowing eyes, once piercing and commanding, were now enormous and cartoonishly wide, blinking in exaggerated confusion.

Adara froze for half a second, her expression caught somewhere between disbelief and delight, before she burst into uncontrollable laughter.

“Oh. My. Stars!” she wheezed, clutching the edge of her console for support. “Scuzball, is that you? Or did someone overinflate a cat balloon?”

I glared at her—or at least, I tried to. Intimidation was a hard sell when I resembled an overstuffed child’s toy. “Adara,” I growled, my voice pitched up into a ridiculous squeak thanks to the distortion. “Fix this. Now.”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” she said, tears streaming down her synthetic cheeks as her laughter continued unabated. “This is the best thing I’ve seen all week. Look at you! You’re adorable!”

“Adorable is not the goal,” I snapped, my tail flailing wildly behind me like an out-of-control ribbon.

Her laughter somehow grew louder. “Oh, but it should be! Look at you! I just want to hug you and—wait, do holograms even give hugs?”

I sighed, glaring at her with all the dignity I could salvage. “Adara, if you don’t fix this immediately, I swear—”

“Fix it?” she interrupted, grinning wickedly. “Why would I ruin perfection? Puffball you is my new favorite thing. You look like you got into the cotton candy machine and lost a fight!”

Before I could muster a retort, another arc of energy crackled across the room, narrowly missing one of Zaraki’s meticulously maintained data archives. He stood abruptly, his hazel eyes narrowing as he took in the scene of utter chaos. Then his gaze landed on me—still floating in all my puffball glory.

“Scuzball,” he said slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose like a man trying to stave off an aneurysm. “What the hell happened to you?”

“Ask her,” I squeaked indignantly, flailing one stubby paw in Adara’s direction. “She’s the one who let this chaos get out of hand!”

Adara grinned, utterly unrepentant. “Oh, don’t blame me, puffball. You’re the one who said you had grace under pressure. This is just karma catching up with you.”

Another energy surge erupted, ricocheting off the walls before slamming into a nearby console. It exploded in a dramatic shower of sparks, and Adara ducked, still laughing, while Zaraki’s voice roared above the din.

“Both of you, get this under control before—”

The largest surge yet erupted from the unstable soul signature, sending brilliant tendrils of energy ricocheting off every surface. One tendril smacked into Adara’s console, and the glowing nodes on her belt emitted a sharp, high-pitched whine before overloading entirely. Her circuits flared brighter than ever, the glow so intense it left an afterimage on my sensors. Then, with a sudden dimming, she stood in stunned silence, her systems flickering faintly.

“Adara?” Zaraki barked, his tone sharp and commanding.

She blinked, then shook her head as her grin slowly returned. “Oh, I’m fine, Doc. Just... recalibrating. But Scuzball?” She gestured toward me with a smirk. “He’s not.”

“Fix him!” Zaraki shouted, his patience visibly disintegrating.

Adara shrugged dramatically, her expression feigning innocence. “Why? He’s perfect like this! Look at that tail—so fluffy! I just want to grab it and—”

“Adara!” Zaraki’s voice thundered, cutting her off with the force of a volcanic eruption.

“Fine, fine!” she said, throwing her hands up in mock surrender. “Don’t get your robes in a twist, Doc. I’ll fix your precious puffball.”

Before she could act, another surge of energy tore through the room, this time colliding with the ceiling. Holographic displays shattered like glass, and a shower of sparks rained down over all of us.

“Oh, this is bad,” Adara muttered, her grin faltering as she stared at the chaos around us.

“You think?” I snapped, still squeaking as my stubby legs flailed helplessly in midair.

“Everyone shut up and stabilize the energy!” Zaraki roared, his voice carrying the weight of authority that demanded immediate action.

Adara dove back into her console, her hands flying across the holographic interface with a speed and precision that belied her usual antics. “All right, furball,” she muttered, her tone begrudgingly serious. “Hold tight. I’m fixing your fluffy little butt.”

“I’m not fluffy!” I squeaked indignantly, though my exaggerated form betrayed me.

“Oh, you are,” she said with a smirk, her focus never wavering. “But don’t worry. I’ll make you pretty again. Well... as pretty as you ever were.”

Another crack of energy sent one of the remaining consoles into a smoking heap, but Adara managed to redirect the final surge into her system. With a dramatic flourish, she slammed her hand down on her console, and my projection flickered violently before snapping back to its original form.

I landed gracefully, my sleek, regal body restored. My tail swished once, regaining its usual poise, though my dignity still felt thoroughly bruised.

“There,” Adara said, leaning back with a satisfied grin. “Good as new. Though I gotta say, puffball you was pretty cute.”

I shot her a withering glare, my voice icy. “Never speak of this again.”

Adara’s laugh followed me as I stalked away, my tail held high. “Oh, I’m definitely speaking of this again. Forever.”

And with that, the study fell into a fragile, tension-filled silence, the aftermath of the chaos lingering in the air like the ghost of a particularly embarrassing memory.

The study was in ruins. Sparks flickered from damaged consoles, holograms glitched and sputtered, and the once-pristine walls now bore the scorched marks of stray energy surges. Adara stood at the center of it all, leaning casually against a half-functional console, her grin as wide and unrepentant as ever.

I sat atop a less-damaged station, my sleek form restored but my pride still smoldering from the puffball incident. My tail swished irritably as I glared at her, though a faint flicker of amusement threatened to betray me.

Zaraki stood in the middle of the room, arms crossed and hazel eyes blazing with the fury of a man who had officially run out of patience. His voice, when it came, was low and sharp, slicing through the lingering tension like a blade.

“Enough.”

Adara’s grin faltered slightly but only for a moment. She quickly recovered, her shrug practically screaming what can you do?

“What in the stars’ name was that?” Zaraki continued, his tone rising. “This is my study, not an arena for your childish antics! Do you have any idea how close you came to losing years of data? Or yourselves?”

Adara raised a hand, her expression a picture of mock innocence. “In my defense, Doc, Scuzball started it.”

“I did not,” I snapped, my tail flicking sharply as I glared at her.

“Oh, please,” she said, rolling her eyes. “You’ve been antagonizing me since the moment you walked in. All that ‘grace under pressure’ nonsense? Honey, you’re about as graceful as a drunken werewolf.”

“Quiet!” Zaraki’s voice thundered, silencing us both. He closed his eyes and took a deep, steadying breath before fixing us with a glare that could have melted durasteel.

“You two are the most insufferable beings I’ve ever had the misfortune of working with,” he said. “But—” He gestured to the consoles, where the progress logs displayed an astonishing amount of completed work. “You’re also the most effective.”

Adara’s grin returned, smug and unrepentant. “Told you, Doc. Productive chaos.”

Zaraki ignored her, turning his gaze toward me. “Scuzball, what are you doing here? Really. You don’t normally involve yourself in soul data processing unless you have a reason.”

I hesitated, my tail stilling mid-swish as I considered how to respond. I’d come here for advice, but now, after everything that had happened, the vulnerability of my original intent felt almost... absurd.

“I—” I began, then stopped. Adara’s grin widened slightly, as though she could sense my hesitation, and I shot her a glare before continuing. “I came to speak with you about... something personal.”

Zaraki raised an eyebrow, his expression softening slightly. “Personal?”

“Yes,” I said, my tone more clipped than I intended. “But after dealing with her—” I gestured toward Adara, who responded with an exaggerated wave. “I’m reconsidering whether it’s worth it.”

“Oh, come on, Scuzball,” Adara said, her voice dripping with mock hurt. “You can’t blame me for your little existential crisis. Though if you need therapy, I’d be happy to help. I’m great at... listening.”

Her tone made it abundantly clear what kind of “listening” she had in mind. I groaned, burying my face in my paw. “Stars help me.”

Zaraki sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose like a man who had run out of better coping mechanisms. “Adara, give us a moment.”

Adara raised her hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. I’ll leave you two to your brooding. But don’t take too long, Doc. I’m dying to see what other messes we can make.”

She sauntered out of the room, her boots clicking softly against the scorched floor. As the door hissed shut behind her, I let out a long sigh of relief.

“Is she always like that?” I asked, glancing at Zaraki.

He smirked faintly. “You’ve met her once. You already know the answer.”

“Fair,” I muttered, shaking my head. “She’s... exhausting. And crude. And completely unhinged.”

“And?” Zaraki prompted, his tone laced with curiosity.

I hesitated again, my tail curling as I searched for the right words. “And... it felt good. To do something. To engage. I’ve been... out of place lately. Star, Cayro, Lyra—they’re upset with me, and they have every right to be. But the distance... it’s been hard.”

Zaraki nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful. “So, you came to me for advice on how to repair your relationships with them.”

“Yes,” I admitted, my voice quieter. “But now, after... everything, I’m not sure where to start.”

Zaraki leaned against his desk, his gaze steady. “Start by being honest. Acknowledge their feelings, but don’t lose sight of who you are. They know you, Scuzball. They know your quirks, your flaws, your brilliance. Remind them of why they care about you in the first place.”

I considered his words, my tail swishing thoughtfully. “Honesty. That’s a novel idea.”

He smirked faintly. “And as for Adara?”

I sighed, my glowing blue eyes narrowing. “She’s... unbearable. But...” I hesitated, then sighed again. “There’s something about her. Her chaos, her flair... it’s maddening, but it’s also strangely... refreshing.”

Zaraki chuckled softly. “Sounds like you two might make a good team after all.”

“Don’t push it,” I said, hopping off the console. “But... maybe. If she doesn’t drive me insane first.”

Zaraki straightened, his smirk widening. “Good luck with that.”

I turned to leave, my tail flicking once as I glanced back at him. “Thank you, Zaraki. For the advice. And for tolerating... whatever this was.”

He nodded, his expression softening. “Anytime, Scuzball. Now, go fix things with Star, Cayro, and Lyra. And try not to start another disaster.”

“No promises,” I said with a faint grin, stepping out of the study and into the chaos that awaited.