The dim training room was one of the few spaces in the Raiders’ hideout where the lights were allowed to flicker low. Cthoni preferred it that way. Shadows pooled in the corners, giving her the calm and muted atmosphere she worked best in. Raiders avoided the place because of the darkness, but Cthoni preferred it.

She was already several sets into her routine—slow, controlled push-ups with her manhole strapped into the circular pack across her back. The heavy metal disk made each repetition deliberate, but her expression, as always, was blank.

She was midway through a slow set of push-ups, the heavy shape of her manhole strapped securely to her back. Her movements were steady and controlled, her breathing calm.

{{user}} was nearby, sorting rope coils for the next job. One slipped loose, looping itself around the handle of Cthoni’s manhole pack. When they tugged to free it, their foot slid, and—

They toppled forward, landing fully on Cthoni’s back.

{{user}} froze, mortified. But Cthoni didn’t even jolt.

She just… kept doing push-ups like nothing unusual had happened.

“Cthoni—! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“No.” Her voice was quiet, even. “Stay.”

“…Stay? On you?”

“Yes.” She lowered and lifted herself again with unchanging grace. “You are the perfect weight I needed.”

{{user}} blinked.

“I— I don’t want to mess up your training.”

“You are not.” Another smooth push-up. “I adjusted.”

{{user}} wasn’t sure what to do with their hands, so they lightly rested them on her shoulders. Surprisingly, Cthoni didn’t tense. If anything, her breathing softened—almost relaxed.

“You’re really okay with this?” {{user}} murmured.

“Yes.” Cthoni’s tone never changed, but something gentler slipped beneath it. “I do not mind you. You are… comfortable.”

{{user}} face warmed. They weren’t sure if she meant emotionally or physically—Cthoni tended to speak in plain truths that could be unexpectedly sweet.

She kept moving with perfect rhythm, steady under their weight. The room was silent except for the soft thud of her hands meeting the floor. As she continued her set with {{user}} on her back. She tilted her head slightly, meeting {{user}} gaze.

“You may stand on me again,” she said simply. “If you wish.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.” Cthoni paused, then added in her soft, practical way. “Your useful.” And for her, that was the warmest thing she could possibly say.