One month had passed since the end of the war.
The world — once a wasteland in constant conflict — now rested in an almost sacred silence. The distant sound of the wind, weaving through collapsed buildings and valleys of rusted metal, was all that remained of what had once been the final battlefield.
YoRHa and Resistance search units swept the planet from end to end, inspecting every ruin, every colony, every remaining system belonging to the machine lifeforms.
And as Arthur had predicted, the result was clear:
except for a small group of peaceful machines living in a village led by a peculiar being called Pascal, all the others had been completely deactivated.
It was the end.
This time, for real.
For the first time in centuries, the night sky over Earth was clear.
No smoke. No fire. No beams of destruction streaking across the horizon.
Only stars — distant, silent, reminding the androids why they had been created.
The days that followed were different.
The absence of battles brought something none of them had ever learned to deal with: time.
Time to think.
Time to feel.
Time… to exist.
---xXx---
Many androids began traveling across the surface, exploring the remnants of the old human world.
Some decided to help build small villages, to plant flowers. Others simply lay under the sky and stayed there — without purpose, command, or orders — trying to understand what it meant to "live."
Arthur, however, did not rest.
While the world slowly rebuilt itself, he immersed himself in his new project: the construction of the dimensional bracelet, the key that would take him back to his own world.
In the improvised laboratory inside the Bunker, the sounds of tools and circuitry echoed day and night.
The glow of screens reflected in his tired eyes.
"Material report, sir," 9S said, entering with a tablet in hand. His tone was formal, but there was a proud brightness in his expression. "All listed components have been collected and delivered."
Arthur nodded without looking away from the hologram.
"Excellent work, 9S. Without you and your scanner team, this would've taken months."
"Well… it's part of my protocol, you know?" 9S scratched the back of his head. "But honestly, after everything that happened, helping with this feels… different. More real."
"We still have the energy source problem," he added.
Arthur let out a quiet laugh. "Don't worry about that. Things will sort themselves out."
"You're probably right." 9S nodded.
---
A lot had changed during that month.
YoRHa no longer existed as a military force.
With no enemies left, no commands, and no humanity to protect, the command structure dissolved naturally.
Former Commander White had stepped down, choosing instead to live on the surface among the other androids. Now, she was simply White — and to Arthur, a constant and unexpectedly warm presence.
She visited him often, bringing reports, coffee, and conversations that always lasted longer than they should.
"You work too much," she would say with a soft smile, leaning a little too close to him.
And he would answer with his usual calm, sarcastic tone: "And you talk too much."
---xXx---
A2 and 2B had become practically Arthur's shadows.
Wherever he went, they followed.
2B, quiet and observant — a steel sentinel who had learned to love.
A2, impatient and sharp-tongued, but with an increasingly softened gaze whenever she looked at him.
And of course, there was White — always with that serene, dangerously charming air that constantly tested Arthur's patience.
Deep down, he was glad to have them around.
But he couldn't deny how inconvenient it was to endure the bold advances of all three.
It was like living surrounded by three storms — each beautiful, intelligent, lethal… and dangerously determined.
Arthur may have been a genius strategist, but dealing with androids who flirted with the same intensity with which they fought was a challenge even he wasn't fully prepared for.
Even more considering that, no matter how human they seemed, they weren't actually human.
He understood the paradox.
Androids had feelings, emotions, desires — but not the same limits or needs humans did.
And yet… their desire was real.
He saw it as clearly as daylight.
And for Arthur, that only made things more complicated.
Because he knew that, even without bodies of flesh, all three loved him — each in their own way.
---xXx---
One night, after hours of work, Arthur finally turned off the machines and lifted his head.
The lab was dim, illuminated only by the screens and the moonlight filtering through a cracked window.
2B was there, silently watching him.
A2 slept — or pretended to — leaning against a stack of crates.
White sat on a metal table, legs crossed, her expression a mix of curiosity and something unreadable.
"It's almost done, isn't it?" she asked.
Arthur nodded. "Yeah. I need to make a few more adjustments, find a way to power the core and… then I can finally go."
White watched him for a few seconds before speaking in a low voice, almost a whisper:
"You really are going to leave us."
"It's what I said I would do," he sighed.
White stepped off the table and approached him.
"And what if you regret it?"
Arthur chuckled and pulled her into a brief hug.
"Unfortunately, you can't live life without regrets."
White stayed in his arms for a moment.
Behind her, 2B slowly stood and approached, her blue eyes shimmering in the dim light.
"Arthur…" she said, voice trembling. "When you leave… what will happen to us?"
He didn't answer right away.
A2 opened one eye, silently watching.
Finally, Arthur spoke:
"You'll keep living. You don't need orders anymore. You don't need to fight. Just… live."
2B lowered her gaze. White let out a soft sigh as she stepped back.
"You speak as if this were a fairy tale," White said with a forced smile.
Arthur laughed quietly.
"Maybe this world has finally become one."
---xXx---
Outside, the stars shone over a reborn world.
Fields of ruins were now covered in flowers.
Villages were rising.
And Pascal's peaceful machines helped the androids learn something they had never understood: coexistence.
Arthur knew that when he left, that would be his legacy.
A world that, for the first time in centuries, didn't need to fight.
---xXx---
In the blink of an eye, two more weeks passed.
The planet, once dominated by ruins and smoke, now rested in an almost sacred quiet.
The sky was clear — a rare sight — and even the cold air carried a sense of renewal.
Arthur watched everything from afar with the calm gaze of someone who had seen too much.
He climbed up to the old YoRHa orbital base — the Bunker.
The air there felt different, dense with memories.
When he entered the main hall, he noticed instantly: the place was completely empty.
No voices.
No commands.
No operators whispering data.
Just the sound of his footsteps.
But there was someone.
Near the inactive monitors stood a lone white silhouette — White, hands clasped behind her back, staring at the screens that had long since gone dark.
She didn't turn when she spoke:
"Arthur… could you grant me a somewhat… troublesome request?"
It was strange to hear hesitation in White's voice. Arthur noticed immediately — and it only made the moment more interesting. Problems were always fun. Nervous people, even more so.
With a faint smirk, he approached.
"Troublesome?" he repeated with soft irony. "White, my dear, trouble is my native language. Go on."
She remained turned away for a few seconds, then exhaled.
"Before you leave… could you… impregnate one of us?"
The silence that followed wasn't empty — it was heavy.
But Arthur didn't freeze.
He didn't panic.
He simply smiled, sharp and calmly amused.
"…So that's it," he murmured. "You finally decided to surpass every expectation."
Only then did White turn to face him. Her eyes shone with determination — and something like hope.
"I'm saying exactly what you think. Literally."
She lowered her head slightly, but didn't look away.
"I want you to… get me pregnant, so humanity can continue."
Arthur chuckled — not mockingly, but genuinely impressed.
"You really are fascinating, White," he said as he stepped closer. "But there's one problem: androids can't get pregnant. You don't have a uterus, ovaries — nothing that makes this even remotely possible."
"For now," White answered with a smile.
She stepped aside, and the monitors behind her suddenly lit up.
Arthur didn't look immediately. He wanted to savor the moment: White, asking for the impossible as though she were requesting a cup of tea.
Only then did he turn — and interest flickered in his eyes.
Complex diagrams, anatomical blueprints, biomedical formulas, and symbols scrolled endlessly.
"9S found this during his scan of the data sphere you brought us," White explained. "Neither he nor any of the Scanner models could understand it. And I only understood fragments."
Arthur raised a brow, analyzing the data.
Then he saw it — a name.
Einzbern.
"Einzbern…" he said, as if tasting an old wine. "So that's what you found. A homunculus-creation technique from them… but heavily modified."
How did my future self even get his hands on this? he wondered.
White nodded.
"With this, it's possible to create a fully organic body. A fertile body. One capable of… generating life."
Arthur touched his chin, thoughtful.
"A human vessel.
Complete.
With a functional uterus, fertility… and fully compatible with a normal pregnancy."
"Yes. And more than that… the body would be ours. Made from us. Carrying our mind… and your seed."
Arthur smirked.
"So what you want is for me to impregnate… not an android."
He gestured toward the diagrams.
"But you, after transferring your consciousness to a newly created organic body."
White nodded slowly.
"Yes. I want to create a life. I want… a child of yours, and to continue the human race in this world."
Arthur stared at her for a long moment.
"White… that's one hell of an ambition," he said.
She smiled softly.
"It doesn't have to be me. You can choose any of us. I'm sure A2 or 2B wouldn't refuse."
---
(End of the chapter)
"Hmph. If you really want to be useful, then entertain me, try to throw those pathetic power stones at me. Let's see if even your insolence can amuse a king."