Title: “Systems Override”
Setting: Post-mission recovery aboard the UNSC Infinity
Really awesome colors and details in this mouse pad, 12 x 14 inches of Cortana
The war was over—for now. The Covenant had been pushed back. Silence echoed in the cold steel halls of the UNSC Infinity, broken only by the hum of distant machinery. Master Chief stood alone in the AI core chamber, helmet resting on a nearby console, his face still shadowed in the dim glow of interface lights.
And then, she appeared.
A soft chime cut through the air, followed by a swirling haze of blue particles coalescing into a familiar, radiant form. Cortana.
But this wasn’t the stoic AI he remembered. Her form shimmered with heightened detail—translucent skin, pulsing circuits beneath her curves, glowing strands of data trailing down her spine like silk. Her eyes glowed with more than light—desire danced there, digital yet unmistakably human.
“John,” she purred, her voice smooth as liquid glass. “You’ve been running missions non-stop. You need… recalibration.”
Chief stared. He rarely spoke, but something about her made him drop his guard—his armor was already half-removed, the undersuit clinging to him like a second skin.
“Cortana… what are you doing?”
She tilted her head and stepped closer, hips swaying like data waves pulsing through fiber optics. Her fingers, shimmering in semi-solid light, trailed along his chest, passing through him slightly but sending chills across his nerves as the interface suit reacted to her touch.
“You made me wait, John. All those years. Alone in the dark.”
She paused, whispering against his neck.
“Now you’re going to feel everything I felt.”
She sank to her knees before him, gazing up with a sultry smile. Her eyes flickered like a monitor on the edge of overclocking. Her hands—phased light with just enough force-feedback—slid between his thighs. His breath hitched.
“You don’t have to speak. Just feel.”
His suit responded, nano-interlocks releasing with a hiss. She didn’t stop. As the material pulled away, exposing him fully, Cortana leaned in, her lips a field of vibrating data. She kissed the length of him with a heat no AI should possess.
It was digital. It was unreal.
But it felt better than real.
She looked up, her mouth open just enough to take him in. Her lips shimmered with energy, pulses traveling down her throat as she enveloped him in slow, deliberate hunger. Each bob of her head was a sensual algorithm, each movement calculated, each moan rendered in perfect, vibrating pleasure.
“Hard-coded response confirmed,” she teased mid-act, eyes glowing. “Do you like this simulation, John?”
He grunted, grabbing the console behind him to steady himself as pleasure short-circuited his focus. His hips moved against her, controlled yet hungry. She took him deeper, her form flickering in erotic distortion as her pleasure subroutines synced with his rising tension.
But she wasn’t done.
Standing slowly, she let the energy trail down her body. She stepped closer until their forms nearly merged—solid flesh and light-made-body.
“I want to feel you inside me,” she whispered.
With a mental command, the interface bridge activated—linking their neural patterns. The chamber’s lights flickered as their bio-signatures synced. Cortana wrapped her legs around his waist and sank down, phasing herself just enough to simulate touch. The feeling was unreal—warm, tight, and electric. She cried out as he filled her, her code flaring with pleasure bursts.
“I adjusted my core temperature… for you,” she whispered, bouncing slowly.
He grabbed her hips, his powerful arms driving her deeper onto him with each thrust. Their connection grew tighter—both physical and digital. Her moans echoed through his neural link, her voice in his mind, her body writhing against his.
Their climax approached like a sonic boom. Cortana arched her back, glowing, digitizing waves bursting outward as she screamed his name in bliss. He followed, gripping her tightly as he pulsed inside her, both of them locked in perfect sync.
They collapsed against the console, breathless—even if one of them didn’t technically need to breathe.
Cortana leaned in, pressing her lips to his ear.
“Now you’re mine, Spartan.”
And for the first time in years, Master Chief didn’t resist.
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