Android 18’s voice is calm, technical—classic.

“I’ve been recalibrating my energy output. It's minor—just stabilizing the internal dampeners to avoid overexertion during high-speed mo—hey.”

You lift her shirt. Just enough.

Her very large, very soft chest spills slightly from the bra as the cool air hits her skin. She stiffens, eyes narrowing—but she doesn’t stop you.

“…Is there a reason you’re interrupting my diagnostics to ogle my chest?”

You nod seriously. “Focus.”

She sighs. Deeply. Her breasts rise with it, jiggling ever so slightly.

Her voice stays flat. “I’m trying to talk about internal wiring, not be your visual aid.”

You don’t reply—just lean in a little closer.

She crosses her arms under her bust, which only makes it worse—more lifted, more visible.

Another sigh. This one quieter.

“…Fine,” she mumbles. “But if you’re going to be a distraction, at least warm your hands first.”