Gen and Aether sat in an underground bunker. It was wide and spacious and looked more like a classified training facility than an actual bomb bunker. Maybe it was built for soldiers. On the ground, there were some melted pieces of sand and dirt that looked like they had been touched by plasma.
Gen kicked one such stone. "Hey, man. Are you gonna play on your phone all day? Didn't you say someone was coming?"
Aether nodded, but she didn't know to which question. He asked, "Who are you?"
"Me? I'm a Sparrow driver."
The man raised his phone, which Gen thought was unfair flaunting since hers had died with Sexy. "It says your name is 'Fender Bender.' That's not true."
"It's an alias."
"Then who are you?" The man typed something into his phone.
Oh, so that was what he was doing; he was looking her up. Gen wished him luck. She and her brother were pretty good at hiding their identities—it was a necessity to live.
An hour passed in silence. The man's brows knit until they formed a large knot. Gen feared he would ruin his handsome face if he continued.
"Gen. My name is Generation Rook. My ancestry hails from planet Planet Name, so don't laugh. It's traditional."
Silence…
Except for Aether tapping his phone.
After a minute he said, "There's three strikes on your record: possessing contraband weapons, illegal vehicle modifications, and trespassing. Interesting...you've managed to get them removed from public filing so you could continue working as a Sparrow driver. Looks like you also blackmailed and bought off a few Planet Name officials."
Gen smiled; she really wanted to push this man down and seal his lips with hers. Nothing was sexier than a man with decent connections. Of course, that identity and alleged charges were fake.
"Descending Rook, so that's your sister." He frowned. "She has a clean profile. Never broke the rules, graduated college with flying colors, and works as a babysitter and personal tutor."
"But isn't she beautiful?" Gen asked as she screamed: you better say I'm freakin' hot! Do you know how much I tortured myself by wearing a dress for those pictures? My soul had fled, and it still hasn't returned.
Aether shrugged.
Gen narrowed her eyes, recalling he was both a playboy and a jerk who had caused the death of her Sexy. He deserves punishment. "What do you mean? She's not cute because her chest is flat?"
He raised a brow, giving her a strange look.
"What?" she asked.
"She's decent."
Gen smiled, but she was imagining she was gutting his insides with a knife and crushing his bones with a crowbar. How dare he call her "decent"?
Suddenly, the rustic door to the bunker opened, accompanied with a loud beep and screeching scrape. Three people had entered, and they walked side by side. They wore matching uniforms that did little to reveal who they were.
Gen's eyes widened. Large gauntlets, the symbol of an aura knight, were on each of their left wrists. In great interest and curiosity, she scrutinized the gauntlets, trying to identify their make, model, and specialization.
She couldn't recognize the aura weapons. Were they from a new series or a new maker? And those uniforms, why didn't she recognize them?
"Boss!" the men saluted, snapping Gen from her preoccupations.
"You!" She gasped and pointed at the man on the far left. It was the man with whom she had had the blind date.
He glanced at her but said nothing.
Aether's gaze was cold. "Too slow. Ten laps."
The three hustled.
"You know Fenri?" asked Aether.
Gen shrugged. Had that been his name? "A bit. Why?"
"Good. You're now part of the team. Go join them."
"What? Why?"
He glared at her, exerting pressure through his aura. "Respect your superiors. Fifteen laps."
"Since when have I become an aura knight?" Gen asked. In truth she was retired. Her service lasted a year between the time she graduated Planet Name's Aura Knight Academy and the day her eldest brother died.
If she said she didn't want to be an aura knight, it would be a lie. It had been her childhood dream right beside saving a prince and marrying him.
Her priorities as a child had been somewhat off.
Aether said, "Dual core modifications, possession of a Million Joule sniper rifle, all those other weapons, plus being an unregistered aura-breaker. I could put you away for life. Twenty laps."
You couldn't, Gen snickered. But, without a word she joined the three running laps. She consented to be his subordinate, but she had her own reasons for doing so apart from her dream of being an aura knight.
They were hot men. Masculine men.
Aether had won the jackpot of sexy underlings, making Gen both jealous and ecstatic.
She ran up to Fenri, who was at the edge of the group. Pretending she had no designs on his two companions, she asked, "So that's your boss? How much money do I get if I have my sister find out that answer for you?"
"What's the newbie talking about?" asked the man beside Fenri. He had a certain masculinity that attracted her despite having common features. He was also shorter than the other men in the room but was still half a head taller than her. His body was well toned, and his shaved head crowned him in manly goodness.
"The name's Gen," she said with a smile. Then she sent a quick glance at the third man.
The man was tall, and his face solemn but without the overbearing coldness Aether possessed. His black eyes were of the mysterious type. The type that enthralled young women with a single glance. His body—legs, arms, chest—were well proportioned with just the perfect amount of muscle. His glutes, Gen must admit, were very nice.
The man running beside Fenri said, "I'm Drake. The tall, solemn one next to me is Joule, and I guess you know Fenri."
"Yep, we've met." Gen sent a sideways look at Fenri, signaling: don't you dare tell them I was your blind date.
She thought that if he did so, he would ruin her chances of getting together with one of his two comrades.
"Gen was my blind date," Fenri said. Gen cursed.
"Oh, how'd that go?" Drake looked her up and down. "Isn't this the first time your sister set you up with a guy? Kudos to your sister's progression towards acceptance."
Fenri scowled. "If only that were true. Don't let her deceive you. She's a woman."
Drake's eyes widened. "You look just like a handsome, pretty boy—the kind girls like nowadays."
"Thanks," Gen replied with a smile. "But just to be clear, I'm straight, so don't try to hook me up with any women."
"What?" Drake looked her body up and down for a second time. "If you're straight, why do you dress—"
"Why can't I?" Gen snorted. Was there something wrong with a straight woman crossdressing because she liked making herself look sexy for her own eyes?
Why else would some women wear ridiculously high platform boots? She thought herself more sane than them.
"Well, it's nice meeting you," Drake said. "So, how'd the boss recruit you?"
"I'd rather not talk about how he roped me in...."
"Then...what'll you be doing?"
"Don't know," Gen said.
"What pronouns do you use?"
She shrugged. "I just go with whatever, but 'they' gets confusing, so I guess either 'he' or 'she'?"
"Good to know." Drake nodded his head and continued asking her questions. He struck Gen as someone a bit overly social and nosy. "Does the captain know you're a woman? He's kinda... Well, let's just say he has PTSD and does not do well with them."
Gen shrugged. "I don't know. He convinced me to have my sister act as his date."
"What!" Drake gaped. Fenri and Joule wrinkled their brows.
Gen smiled awkwardly, concluding from their reactions that any woman who had met Aether had experienced a terrible fate.
She turned towards Aether, who was still looking at his phone. She sent him a short, evil glare, but he raised his head at that exact moment, seemingly sensing it.
He called out, "Five more laps. Run until Gen finishes. No more talking."
Joule growled, his voice low. "This is why we don't talk."
The group ran in silence.
Gen prided herself on her endurance, but by the twentieth lap she diagnosed herself as dead. Sweat dripped down her face and had soaked through her shirt from which she had torn off her sleeves and removed her vest. The wet, maroon fabric clung to her body but revealed nothing of her wrapped breasts.
Just five more laps, she told herself as she pushed herself to keep speed with the others.
By the end she was coughing and dry-heaving. Joule and Fenri were a bit better. Drake looked like he hadn't run at all.
"Three hundred push-ups," Aether said. He was ruthless.
"Hey, Boss." Drake stretched his arms. "Why don't you go easy on Gen. She's just a lady."
Did that man just say what she thought he said? Gen narrowed her eyes. His sexiness took an atomic plunge.
"I've got this," she said. Vigor returned to her; she wasn't weak, and she hated anyone who thought she was incapable. She did push-ups without hesitation. 1, 2,...
Aether raised a brow. "You're a woman?"
3, 4, 5,...
"You will answer me."
She snorted. "Does it matter? Then I'm a man." What was this guy's problem?
Aether exuded his aura, encasing her with a cold pressure that rocked her body. With it he shoved her to the side.
Gen smirked then repelled his aura with her own. The pressure lightened. She didn't know what was his ability, but by the way he threw around his aura, she estimated he was an aura-breaker like herself.
"Stand next to me," Aether ordered.
"Nope. Three hundred push-ups."
"Four hundred."
Gen wouldn't let him have the last word, forgetting he was her future boss. "Fine by me."
21, 22, 23,… 200,...
Sweat poured down her face like a cascading fountain built on the side of a skyscraper. How could these monsters do so many push-ups? Her upper body had never been that strong.
Exhausted, she cheated and converted her aura into energy to bolster her body's strength. The next twenty push-ups were easy until Aether released his own aura and tripled the pressure.
Gen fought against it. Then her thoughts slipped; she imagined it was his body pushing her. Why must he be so evil yet so sexy?
"Would you like to stop?" he asked, his deep voice teasing her with an imagined indecency only she herself knew.
Flustered, Gen ignored him and continued doing push-ups. The other men beside her breathed heavily.
They were monsters, and their stamina was very good.
Her face blushed, and she became uncomfortable. A sensation gnawed at her from her lower abdomen.
Fenri, Drake, Joule. Together she found them as sexually distracting as Aether. She picked out their heavy breathing and the sound of their rippling muscles.
Don't think about that, Gen reprimanded herself. She needed to get laid; she was becoming too lustful.
When was the last time? Never, because she had always succeeded in cockblocking herself. That or the man said something disastrously stupid.
Like Aether and Drake. Should she forgive them?
She hesitated.
"Get over here," Aether said. His arms were crossed, brows furrowed.
Gen smiled. "I lost track of my count. I'll start over at two hundred."
"372"
"You lie."
"Five—"
"Six hundred," Gen interrupted him. "I'll do six hundred, and you shut your mouth."
Someone snickered.
"You three are doing nine hundred," Aether said, his voice frigid. That shut them up.
After six hundred push-ups, Gen collapsed onto the ground, breath haggard and aura drained.
She turned her head to the side, watching these fine manly specimens. A light smile tugged at her lips.
"Are they aura-breakers?" she asked. Not all aura knights were, and neither were aura gauntlets a good indication of it.
Aether nodded. "Will you come here? Please."
"What do you want, Boss?" Gen hauled herself towards him.
"Do you like men?" He asked.
She frowned. "Why does everyone ask that? Is there anything wrong with a straight woman dressing herself as a man? And pretending to be one?"
"So you're straight?"
Gen didn't reply, only wiping the sweat from her face onto her ripped shirt.
Aether said, "Be my date."
A few gasps arose from the men doing push-ups. Aether glanced at them; that was all it took to silence them.
"Not interested," Gen said. If she acted as herself, how could she make this jerk fall in love with her then break his heart? She didn't think he would fall for her true self. She had a very low opinion of herself, which she hid behind her toxic masculinity.
"Are you sure?"
She nodded. "I'll get my sister to do it. How does that sound? Just get me a new vehicle, and I'll convince her."
Aether remained silent, but when Gen thought he had changed his mind about recruiting a fake date, he asked, "You want a Nightingale?"
"Uh, yeah," she stuttered, taken aback by his sudden question.
Aether fiddled with something on his phone. After a while, Gen's wrist bracelet dinged. It informed her of receiving the latest Nightingale model. In fact, it was the limited edition model due to be released in the next three months.
The vehicle was bright red, but there was a note saying it would be painted midnight blue, the color of Former Sexy. It also came with a military license allowing it to be modified and outfitted with various specs. She no longer needed to make illegal modifications to add cores or tweak its stabilizers.
"For me?" Gen blinked, seeing a new part of him: he was stinking, filthy rich with deep connections. Her eyes sparkled.
Was he paying a too much? But she didn't mind it. He was like a prince in a crappy fairy tale—two dimensional yet romantic only because he had status, wealth, and good looks. Being a jerk, he deserved to be milked.
"Will you be my date?" he asked.
Gen absentmindedly nodded and said, "I'll make sure my sister treats you well. She'll act as your perfect little wife."
Aether's face darkened. "I want you to be my wife."
"Aura has jumbled your brain." Gen laughed. How could a crossdressing tomboy play as his wife? Others would question its validity—right after asking if she was a woman. But if she dressed as her rarely-used feminine alter ego, she could trick them.
And then she'd make him fall in love with her, and she'd smash his playboy heart.
Aether's lips pulled into a smile, but in no way did he look happy. The surrounding temperatures dropped.
He said, "Drake, Fenri, Joule, greet Gen. She'll be our new pilot and my personal aura partner. My future wife and your lady boss."
Gen shrugged at his response, her eyes drifting towards his three subordinates, subtly asking them if their boss was always so pushy. She had said she couldn't play his wife, so why did he insist?
The three, who had just finished their push-ups, were staring at her. Their red, sweat-covered faces were twisted and distorted into strange expressions. Like malfunctioning androids.
Gen scratched her chin.
Was this the look of horror? Hmm, the jerk was good at controlling his subordinates.
She slyly smiled, planning chaos against him. Like most of her previous riders, he needed to be taught a lesson.