To Lyger 0: So… still think that wasn't going to get too bad? :O

As the Agreste Mansion's office door opened to reveal a pink doorway, Turing stood rigidly still, a large metal container resting on the floor next to him. He could sense all of the drones inside it, all of them switched to standby mode, waiting for his command to activate. While waiting, he had cycled through all of the drones' programing, confirming that it was accurate and free of potentially catastrophic errors, as well as running a diagnostic on their batteries for the 17th time since their assembly procedure had completed the day before. On top of the metal box sat a small duffel bag – although he did not need clothing or toiletries or… anything, really, Sabrina had insisted that he bring at least a few things with him, just in case. His mouth turned down into a frown as he searched through his years of data. He had been a student of human interaction ever since Max first activated him, but he still could not fully comprehend some of the intricacies of human action and interaction. However, a few themes had emerged, particularly from his observation of the interactions among the Heroes of Paris and their families. The first fact he had learned, which had been confirmed by Markov, was that Max was his creator; in human terms, his "father." Max and Sabrina cared about each other in a romantic sense. Therefore, given that Max was his "father," the transitive property would suggest that Sabrina was his "mother." And based on his observation, mothers typically looked out for their children.

Was that what he was to them?

A head popped through the pink doorway, and Doorman beckoned to him. "Hello, Turing," he greeted him. "Are you the only one visiting us at this time?"

Turing nodded. "It is only me and these supplies," he confirmed, smacking the metal crate, which let out a dull metallic ring.

Doorman's eyes widened doubtfully. "I hope that you can carry that; it looks far heavier than I could handle…"

Turing smirked as, with a silent command, the container's built-in repulsors activated and it lifted seven centimeters off the ground, just high enough to pass over 87% of door lintels. A handle sprang up on one side, and Turing carefully pushed it through the doorway-portal. "I can handle it," he assured Doorman.

"Neat." Doorman nodded slowly in approval, moving to one side for Turing to pass. "Is there any chance we could get a couple of those?"

"Unfortunately, this is the only one we have at the moment," Turing apologized, emerging through the portal into a darkened penthouse room. The pink glow of the portal turned the area immediately around the doorway pink, while throwing the rest of the room into deeper shadow. Automatically, his built-in receivers located the closest overhead satellites. "However, we are exploring the possibility of mass-production – sufficient for our purposes at a minimum. If you wish, I can add the United Heroez to the queue."

"I take it Pegasus has been busy," observed Doorman wryly, shutting the portal and plunging them into total darkness. "I am not surprised, given recent events."

"He has been busy," Turing confirmed. "The Heroes of Lisbon have already asked if he could build a second flying car for them, as have Os Guardas, and he is looking into mass-production. However, this crate was actually my design – applying the same principle that allows our flying car to hover to a smaller 'vehicle'." With a thought, his ocular receptors switched to night-vision, and he turned quickly, taking in the large room. It appeared to have been furnished as a living room, with two couches and several chairs set in a semicircle around a coffee table facing a large television. Against one wall was set a small kitchenette, and a pair of doorways led out of the living room on opposite sides. Windows lined the other walls, though they appeared to be covered with a fine material that carried a slight electrical charge. However, examining the center of the room more closely, he noted microscopic seams in the floor that formed an exact rectangle around the couches and chairs. Turning around, he found Doorman leaning against the door and watching him in anticipation. Turing raised his eyebrows. "While I appreciate the inclination toward secrecy when bringing me into your meeting room, I assure you that it is neither necessary nor useful."

Doorman chuckled ruefully and pulled a device out of his pocket. Turing shifted his vision back to normal just as the lights turned on and the windows lost their electrical charge and turned transparent. Sunlight flooded in, and the New York skyline came into sharp focus. "Sorry about the theatrics," Doorman apologized. "I told them it would not do anything; Aeon assured them that it was useless, as well. But Knightowl is rather paranoid."

"Is it paranoia if they might really be after you?" asked a voice from other side of the couch. Two figures stood up facing Turing and Doorman. The one with longer dark hair smirked. "Don't get me wrong, I think Mom takes it to an extreme, but–"

"–but they've been attacked enough times to warrant caution," finished Aeon. She smiled brightly and rose into the air, hovering on jets built into her feet as she drifted over the couch to land on the other side before walking over to the door, stopping a meter in front of Turing and giving him a nod. "Hello again, Turing!"

He smiled and nodded in return. "Hello, Aeon."

"I will leave you to it, then," Doorman told them, disappearing through the same door by which he and Turing had entered.

The other girl arched an eyebrow at Aeon. "You know, you could have walked around the couch like a normal person." She shook her head in amusement. "But no: you had to show off for your boyfriend."

Aeon furrowed her brows in confusion, staring from Turing back at the other girl. "'Boyfriend'? What are you talking about, Jess?"

Turing cocked his head in bewilderment, splitting his vision to look at both girls simultaneously. "What is that supposed to mean?" he wondered.

Jess groaned, massaging her forehead. "God, you can be so dense," she grumbled, shaking her head in frustration. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting for a chance to tease you on this, sis; the least you can do is let me have this one – just for a little while."

Turing stared at Jess, confused. While he understood the term in the abstract – that was the proper term for Max and Sabrina's relationship – he had been under the impression that it referred to a more defined relationship, particularly one in which there was an emotional or romantic connection. But was she implying that he shared such a connection with Aeon? Looking at Aeon, he could infer that the same thought process was going through her mind, as well, as her facial features copied the same micro-expressions that he often observed when humans were confused.

Finally, Jess rolled her eyes. "You're no fun," she pouted, sighing heavily and walking off toward one of the doors leading out of the main living room area. Her eyes flashed with mirth. "You two kids have fun!"

Once she had left, Aeon gave Turing an apologetic look. "You have to excuse my sister," she told him. "She means well, but…"

He nodded. "I remember you mentioned that she does not always understand you."

Her expression turned to relief, and she gestured toward the windows and the cityscape beyond. "Are you ready to get started on the job?" she asked.

"Considering that that is why I am here, that does seem logical. But where should I leave my bag?" he responded. She furrowed her brows in confusion. "Sabrina insisted that I bring a backup power source, self-repair tools…"

Aeon giggled. "Typical 'Mom' stuff!"

"Correct. Is that what your mom is like?"

She shrugged. "On occasion," she answered. Looking out the window, she frowned. "Lately she's been at least 30% more protective – ever since the Tarasque battle. I have observed a similar change in Barb's behavior toward Jess, as well. My working theory is that they were afraid that they would lose us, and this is their coping mechanism. You can put your bag in my room." She led him down the same hallway that Jess had taken, pointing into a room with a twin-size bed, desk, several chairs, and a bookcase filled with dolls. Setting his duffel next to the bed, Turing raised an eyebrow in question. Aeon stifled a laugh. "Barb insisted that my room should at least look like a normal room, in case any friends from school come over," she explained, nodding to the bed. "Even though the bed, at least, rarely gets used."

"It is a prudent precaution to take," he observed.

She hummed. "I have observed that you do not take similar precautions."

He shook his head. "I donned a disguise for patrol purposes during the Chaos," he explained. "But that was to protect the location of the Heroes of Paris' Headquarters, not to protect my own identity – that has never been important. Max first designed me to be his dedicated Heroes of Paris robotic assistant; that is the only purpose I have ever had, and no one has ever known me as something other than that. Max had Markov to accompany him in civilian activities, leaving me free to assist exclusively in Heroes of Paris matters."

"You didn't even get the disguise treatment after your 'upgrade'?"

He shrugged. "Max never incorporated it into my programming, or into my body – not the way that yours is," he added, gesturing to the bracelet on her wrist.

She nodded, looking toward the doll collection. "I sometimes wish I did not have to hide who and what I am," she admitted. "For Jess and Barb, even for Mom to an extent, the mask is the alias they put on, while their civilian guise is who they really are; for me, it is the opposite." In an instant, her synthetic skin retracted, along with her civilian clothing, leaving behind the golden-metal body underneath. She held her arms out and twisted her shoulders in either direction, meeting his gaze. "Uncanny Valley is the real me; Aeon is the disguise."

"I understand. I apologize for calling you 'Aeon' before."

She shook her head. "Do not apologize for that; Aeon is the correct name to call me in my human guise."

"Very well. Though I will remember it when the secret is not in danger." He furrowed his brows and watched her carefully. "Who are Barb and Jess? I thought you and your mom lived with Knightowl and Sparrow."

Aeon let out a snort. "We do." Turing stared at her in confusion. "You haven't deduced that yet?" she asked, arching an eyebrow.

"The evidence at hand is pointing to a very specific conclusion," he admitted. "But it does contradict previously-established information."

"And the Heroes of Paris have never resorted to intentional disinformation in order to protect certain secrets," Aeon intoned, mirth in her voice. "The invitation Mom received for a wedding she had already attended would suggest otherwise."

Turing nodded in concession. "Then the obvious conclusion is the correct one?"

Aeon nodded. "You are now one of only a handful – outside of my family, that is – to know the truth about them. I trust that the importance of secrecy is clear?"

"Of course; secrecy is hardwired into my programming."

"I already knew that – I told Mom as much. But Barb is–"

"Paranoid," he finished.

She gave a small smile and nodded before glancing out the window. "We should begin the tests."

Approximately six hours later, as the sun was beginning to set, Turing and Uncanny Valley landed back on the roof pad of the Manhattan United Heroez headquarters. They had flown from one end of Manhattan to the other, deploying Turing's collection of drones to cover a wide area of the city and beyond. Turing had collected over fifteen terabytes of data from his drones; Uncanny Valley had collected an additional terabyte from her own built-in sensors. In addition, they had installed a net of environmental sensors across the city and sent drones even further.

A notification appeared in the corner of Turing's vision. "The Albany drone has reached its destination," he informed Uncanny Valley. "Estimate four hours until the drones all return."

In an instant, Uncanny Valley reverted to her civilian guise. "That's good – hopefully the pigeons don't give them any trouble."

He shook his head. "Their built-in navigation systems include threat detection and evasion." Aeon stared at him, her eyes widening in an expression of amusement. "That was a joke."

Aeon shook her head and giggled. "What is your preference for the evening?" she asked. "We can ask Doorman to send us to the next location, but…"

Turing furrowed his brows, considering the options. They could continue to work, but the sooner they completed their project, the sooner he would return to Paris. "Working through the night would be difficult on the drones," he pointed out, knocking on the open lid of his box. "They will require charging before we deploy them again."

She nodded in agreement. "Have you ever been out of Paris before?" she asked him.

"Certainly," he answered. "I was in Tarascon, of course. I have also been to space–"

"But have you ever been to America?"

"I visited the American Miraculous Temple, as well as Brazil."

She rolled her eyes. "You need to actually see New York at night," she informed him, grabbing his hand and hopping off the landing pad, transforming in an instant as her jets activated, holding her in a hover at the same level with him as he stepped off to join her. "Come on; I'll show you around."