Then, Styx kissed her.

It was not a sensual kiss. Not passionate. Not the sort that foolish men fantasize about.

It was desperate, relieved, cathartic in every sense. Styx was grateful that she hadn't lost her, and N-XS once again initiated tears, embracing her Gildarian partner.

"I love you so much," she said.

In that moment, her grief and longing protocols went dormant, her irrational logic subroutines were on hold, but her gratification programming devoted a terabyte of random access memory to feelings of joy and social bonding.

She embraced Styx, and Styx embraced her right the hell back.

End of Book One