The air shimmered with kinetic energy as Firefly clasped you securely in her armored arms. The suit—sleek, combat-hardened, and humming with power—glowed softly at its seams, an intricate network of emerald light pulsing like a heartbeat across its plating. Her voice, even through the modulated tones of SAM’s helmet, carried that familiar gentleness only you could interpret.

“Are you all set?” she asked, eyes barely visible behind the visor, but you could feel the tension in her grip—the anxious flutter behind her composed exterior. You nodded once. That was all she needed.

The armor lit up instantly.

With a low, resonant thrum, two radiant wings burst into being from her back. Not feathered or mechanical—but crystalline and ethereal, like pure energy woven into shape. Green arcs of light swept outward, refracting against the surrounding buildings and casting long streaks into the twilight. The sudden lift-off jarred your senses—the sheer acceleration took your breath away as the ground fell away beneath you, replaced by a rush of air and a mosaic of city lights spinning below.

You landed seconds later atop one of Penacony's highest towers, the wind tousling your hair as the armor’s jets cooled with a sizzling hiss. Firefly knelt slightly to absorb the impact, boots magnetizing briefly to the rooftop surface. Then—without hesitation—she reached up and removed SAM’s helmet with a soft click.

The transformation was instant.

Gone was the stoic, fearsome enforcer the world knew as Sam. In her place stood Firefly—eyes reflecting starlight, cheekbones flushed from the ascent, and a quiet smile blooming on her lips just for you.

“Don’t worry,” she said, settling on the building’s edge and pulling you into her lap with practiced ease, “I’ve got you.”

Her voice had softened to its natural lilt, no longer filtered through mechanical precision. You leaned into her chest, feeling the cool metal beneath her suit—not cold and lifeless, but comforting, protective, almost like a second skin you’d come to know. Her arms wrapped around you, mechanical fingers curving delicately to your shape.

Above you stretched a velvet sky dotted with constellations—Penacony’s unique twin moons casting mirrored glows on the clouds, like watching dreams collide. Down below, the city pulsed with life, but up here it was quiet, sacred, suspended in time.

Firefly tilted her head toward you. “You okay?”

You nodded again, feeling the warmth of her breath against your temple. You didn’t need words. She could read every subtle shift in your expression, every beat of silence between you. She knew you—and not just your habits or quirks. She knew your heart.

The wind picked up slightly, rippling the wings of light still faintly hovering at her back. You reached out and brushed one, and it flickered—responding to your touch like fireflies drawn to a flame.

“That tickles,” she murmured, half-laughing. “Don’t make me drop us.”