The garage door was already half-open when Tanya arrived, light from the overcast afternoon spilling in a pale sheet along the concrete. From inside came the unmistakable noises of Olena: clanking, muttering, a brief burst of humming that spiralled into a screech.

And then the clatter of something heavy hitting the floor.

"Bah! Gravity is enemy of all mankind! I hear footstep. Tanya?"

"Just walked in," Tanya called, stepping beneath the half-open door. "That was a dramatic thud."

Olena popped up from behind the mech suit's left leg, grease smeared across her cheek like war paint. Her scarf was tied around her head pirate-style, goggles raised into her messy hair.

Olena shuffled the large tool behind a cupboard with her foot. "What thud?" She slapped the tall metal contraption beside her with the flat of her palm. It reverberated with a metallic whong. "Very advanced. Very professional."

Tanya bit back a smile. "Sure. Wait, is that it?"

Tanya walked further inside the room, craning her neck upwards.

The mech suit was taller than Olena by at least half a metre and twice her width. Dark steel, overlapping plates, exposed wire bundles on the arms. Even now, dormant, there was a sense of weight to it—like it would take a casual step and flatten a car.

"Wow. Olena, It's…"

Olena scampered over, hands clasped dramatically. "Beautiful? Perfect? Shiny? I was going to do grand reveal, but you came early. Is a shame really. I was going to threaten you with brilliant but ethically questionable methods if you were late."

"That's a relief."

Olena danced backwards two steps, arms thrown wide. "So! Tattoo me. Make me beautiful. Make me machine-mother!"

"I don't think anyone's ready for you as a machine-mother," Tanya muttered, but her chest warmed. She'd owed Olena this for too long.

"Right." Tanya set down her kit beside an old rolling stool. "Before we start, you said you had ideas?"

"Oh ho," Olena said, immediately posing as if performing for a tiny imaginary audience. "Do I have ideas? Tanya, my friend, my sister in apocalypse, my favourite tattoo sorceress—I have schematics."

She pulled a folded sheet of graph paper from her waistband like a magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat. Tanya half-expected confetti.

"Look." Olena crouched by the mech suit and spread the paper across the floor, weighting the corners with a wrench, a socket driver, a half-eaten protein bar, and a bolt the size of Tanya's thumb.

Tanya knelt beside her.

The drawing was unexpectedly… brilliant. Not tidy, Olena's lines had the chaotic bounce of someone drawing fast, powered by caffeine and excitement, but the clarity of the concept shone through.

"You're serious," Tanya said quietly.

"Of course I am serious." Olena puffed out her chest. "I like jokes, yes. But I also like not dying while operating one-ton walking weapon platform, no?"

Tanya leaned closer. "Walk me through it."

"So! Your summon will be control node." Olena lightly tapped the centre drawing: a circular console-like device with manual switches, something that appeared to rotate, and a small hinge compartment. "It should attach here—middle of torso plate of mech. Magnetic locks, four-point alignment, keyed so angle always perfect. Then these," she pointed to a set of branching lines, "are harness cables. When summoned, wires wrap around me. They follow path up ribs, over shoulders, down spine. Summon should form them on skin, you see? So when they materialise," she mimed the wires snapping outward, "they plug straight into suit's interface ports."

"And they'll transmit… what exactly?"

"Input. All of it." Olena's voice lost its comedic lilt. "Right now, mech suit only has levers I take from car clutches. Good, but too slow. Too imprecise. I want direct mechanical switching—for movement modes, arm tool cycles, pressure thresholds. Also, emergency override. You give me summon panel that is linked to Class? Then Class knows what I do. No delay. I think…" She tapped her chin. "I think I can half suit response time."

That settled deep in Tanya's chest—the seriousness of what she was about to give her friend.

"And monster core as power source?" Tanya asked.

Olena nodded. "Core from a weird crab thing I take down with people from Estate. It behave like battery but give me little Interface for it too."

"Right…" Tanya traced the sketch, imagining how to translate it to skin. "Where do you want the tattoo?"

Olena pointed both thumbs at herself. "Torso. Entire sternum plate. And then wires around ribs, shoulders, down lower back. Like harness."

"That's… a lot of skin."

"Yes! Is sexy."

"Not the adjective I'd pick," Tanya said, though her lips twitched.

"You ask me what I want. I want full rig." Olena stood, pulling off her scarf, then her hoodie. "And you promise today, so no takebacks."

"No takebacks," Tanya agreed softly.

Olena lay back on the padded bench they used for mech repairs, arms behind her head, chest bare except for a sports bra. Her skin was pale where it wasn't smudged with engine grease, already goosepimpling from the garage chill.

"You nervous?" Tanya asked as she set up.

Olena scoffed. "Please. I have been electrocuted fifty times and only cried, eh… ten. Eleven maybe. Tattoo is nothing."

Tanya glanced at her. "You really think this'll work?"

"I know it will. You make magic tattoos. I make angry metal suit. Together we unstoppable dream team. Besides…" She softened. "You always get thing working when you put mind to it."

Tanya cleared her throat. "Alright then."

She snapped on gloves, prepped the stencil—her adaptation of Olena's drawing—then applied it carefully across the sternum and ribs. The wiring spiralled out from the central control node like an engineered blossom, each 'wire' path following natural muscle lines.

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Olena lifted her head to look. "Ohhhh, that is so cool. I look like cyborg goddess."

"You'll look like you're being dissected if you keep moving." Tanya pushed her head gently back down.

"Fine, fine." She kept peeking but tried to move her back less to do it.

The machine buzzed to life.

That familiar white noise buzz settled over Tanya's nerves. The world narrowed to ink, line, movement. The pleasant hum steadied her heartbeat as the needle touched Olena's skin.

Olena hissed through her teeth. "Oooh. Okay. That is spicy."

"You need any time?"

"Ha! No. Spice is good. Makes me feel alive."

Tanya worked the outline of the central module first: circular housing, recessed channel for the imaginary core latch, clean mechanical division lines. Her hands found their rhythm easily.

Minutes passed. Then half an hour. Then longer.

Olena talked the entire time.

Not nonsense—well, not only nonsense. She rambled about Boris.

"So Boris met these handler people, yes? One uses K9 search dog. Very sweet dog. Very drooly. Another has pack of attack rottweilers. Very scary. Very drooly. And then this girl who trains ferrets."

"Ferrets?" Tanya asked mid-stroke.

"Yes. She says they are excellent for infiltration. I do not trust ferrets. They look like long, angry socks."

Tanya snorted, lifting the needle to wipe. "I didn't know there'd be anyone else out there. Do they have Unique Classes too?"

"I think just Handler," Olena said.

Tanya imagined Fifi and Boris surrounded by normal-sized animals. It was like the strangest obedience centre ever.

"Interesting. It must have been eating the Monster Core that made Fifi worth the Unique Class. Did it help him? Meeting them?"

"Oh! Yes, yes. Big help." Olena waved her free hand excitedly. "Even though Fifi is… well. She is Fifi. She very different from normal animal, but seeing handlers talk about commands and behavioural shaping, it helped. Boris understands now how to reinforce things. Fifi even learned new trick!"

"What trick?"

"She can fetch screwdriver." Olena puffed proudly. "Not give it to you, no. She fetches it, then keeps it for herself. But is start!"

"That sounds like a nightmare."

"Is progress!" Olena insisted. "And Boris is happier than I have seen him since apocalypse started. So I am happy."

Tanya felt warmth unfurl inside her. She wiped away more ink, leaning back to inspect the lower wiring.

"You're doing great," she said.

"Of course I am. I am warrior." Olena tried to flex. Immediately regretted it. "Ow. Warrior who doesn't flex during tattoo. Sorry."

Time blurred into the soft monotony of the machine's whir. Tanya moved from the sternum outward, following the curves of Olena's ribs, tracing the engineered wirework with precision.

It was the most structurally complex design she'd ever attempted.

An hour in, sweat gleamed on Olena's forehead, but she still cracked jokes.

"You know, if mech suit does not work with this, at least I can pretend to be human-sized cable management diagram."

"You'll be the prettiest cable diagram in London."

"You flirt with me now? I accept."

Tanya rolled her eyes, but her smile remained.

Eventually, when the final outer loop was done, Tanya set the gun aside.

"How're you feeling?"

"Like ribs made of fire," Olena said cheerfully.

Tanya stepped back, stretching her cramped shoulders.

The tattoo was… beautiful. Mechanical. Intentional. The central 'core hub' looked almost raised, though that was only shading.

And the wires, bold lines tapering to thinner ones, wrapped her like a harness.

"You ready?" Tanya asked quietly.

Olena grinned. "Time to Summon this bad boy."

Tanya took a step back and watched as Olena carefully stood, peering over her shoulder both ways.

Olena scratched her head. "...How?"

"It's different for everyone. Amy found imagining pushin' it out helped, but I guess with Assistant I more feel like I'm pulling."

Olena wiggled her fingers, crouching like she was about to wrestle something. "Come to Wielder!"

The tattoo peeled upward from Olena's skin, not breaking contact but lifting—like the world itself tugged the ink into three dimensions.

Olena turned to Tanya. "It working?"

"Yes, yes, keep goin'!"

The wires rose first, hovering and twisting around Olena's back like something out of Cyberpunk. Then the central module, forming a matte metal disc with a recessed chamber for the monster core. The wires followed the paths Tanya inked, winding around Olena's torso with perfect alignment. As each met its mark, they clicked into small caps that formed over her shoulders and lower ribs.

"Oh my god," Tanya breathed.

"OH MY GOD," Olena echoed, louder.

The structure stabilised, leaving Olena standing there half-cocooned in her new control rig.

"It looks—" Tanya swallowed. "It looks exactly how you designed it."

"Better!" Olena scrambled upright, wincing but ecstatic. "Tanya! Plug me into suit!"

"Wait, don't run—"

Olena bolted toward the mech suit like a kid toward an amusement ride. The top of it opened, and Olena climbed inside the large contraption, sitting inside ready to control it.

She slapped the panel on the mech's chest. It folded open, revealing the receptor cradle. Then she pressed her summon to it.

The magnetic locks snapped in with a heavy CHUNK. All at once, the mech suit twitched to life, plates shifting, internal servos humming.

Olena squealed.

"Tanya! Look! Look look look!"

The wires around her skin lit with a soft blue shimmer as the monster core channel opened.

Olena's hands flew to the switches on the hub, flicking one upward. The mech's right arm lifted instantly.

"Oh my god," Tanya whispered.

"No lag!" Olena flicked a rotary selector.

The mech crouched.

"NO LAG, TANYA!"

Laughter bubbled from her, wild and joyous. She toggled modes rapidly, each input translating immediately.

"This is insane!" Olena crowed. "I am like mech whisperer! No—mech overlord!"

Tanya's Notifications chimed.

• • •

Achievement: Life Changing Magic II

All tattoos consider the Wielder within their creation, but you have created a tattoo summon with enough knowledge of the Wielder's Class that it has become instrumental to how they now use their Class.

Achievement Boon: Tattoo Bearer's Overlay has merged into your Tattoo Menu.

• • •

Tanya stared at it, unsure what it meant. She flicked over to her Tattoo Menu and saw it. The top of the menu was now a map, covered in lots of little dots. Tanya focused on one, and the tattoo page appeared before her with full stats at creation.

"Oh shit," Tanya said, revelling in her new information. This was going to make finding and helping the others far, far easier.

Olena finally stopped pressing switches long enough to whirl toward her. Her eyes were glassy with excitement.

"TANYA. I LOVE YOU."

Tanya blinked, still distracted by her new Menu.

Olena launched herself at her in a hug—then yelped as the wires tugged. "Ow! Ow ow—okay maybe no hug until tattoo heals."

Tanya laughed, a real, steady laugh. "Deal."

Olena bounced in place like she might spontaneously combust. "I need to show Boris. And Marcy. And whole neighbourhood. And maybe entire continent. Tanya—this is best tattoo ever. Ever!"

Tanya felt heat rise to her cheeks. "Glad it's useful."

"Useful? Tanya, I am unstoppable now. I am—" She gestured broadly. "I am machine-mother!"

Tanya groaned. "Please don't make that a thing."

"Too late! Machine-mother Olena reporting for duty!"

She saluted with mech precision—accidentally triggering a function that made the mech suit perform a synchronised head tilt.

"Oops."

Tanya clutched her stomach, laughing.

The garage filled with the sound—warm, alive, echoing off steel and concrete.

Olena ran another delighted diagnostic on her newly enhanced mech suit.

"Tanya! Suit gives me quests now. It says I need to be airborne for 5 straight minutes."

Tanya looked at her new map of clients, and a plan formed. "Wanna kill two birds with one stone? I've got a job for you."

"For maker of my beautiful control panel? Pfft." Olena slapped her chest plate. "Just tell me where to fly to."

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