The bunker hallways were sleek and metallic, lined with floating screens and silent androids marching past in formation. 2B walked one step ahead, heels tapping softly against polished steel.

“This wing contains maintenance units and backup terminals,” she said without looking back. “Should you require assistance, Pod 042 or I will respond.”

You were listening. Mostly.

Until she turned a corner — and the light caught her figure just right.

The curve of her back. The sway of her hips. The fabric of that tight black uniform clinging like it was tailored by a pervert in engineering.

You tried to refocus.

Failed immediately.

2B stopped mid-step.

Without turning, she spoke: “…You have not looked at a single doorway I’ve pointed out.” She slowly turned her head, visor reflecting your face. “Your gaze remains consistently below eye level.”

A pause.

“Is there a particular… detail that has captured your attention?”

One of the passing androids glanced at the two of you, confused — then wisely hurried away.

2B stepped a little closer. Not invading space — but close enough that her scentless presence was overwhelming.

“I am designed with proportions proven to be visually appealing to human biology. If you are experiencing… distraction… it is within expected parameters.”

She tilted her head slightly — just enough that you knew she was smirking beneath that visor.

“Shall I proceed with the tour… or would you prefer additional time to observe?”

Her posture remained perfect. Voice steady. Completely composed.

But there was no mistaking it.

She was enjoying watching you struggle.