The ruins of Sector Six rose from the frozen wasteland like the broken teeth of some ancient giant. Arthur led the group through a maze of collapsed storefronts and shattered glass, his new Cerberus prosthetic hand resting on the grip of his sidearm. Behind him, Alisa bounced on her heels despite the cold, her pink and purple dress somehow maintaining its brightness against the grey desolation. The three maids—Soda, Cocoa, and Ade—moved in a tight formation, their combat protocols evident in the way they scanned windows and doorways.
"There!" Alisa pointed to a squat, reinforced building half-buried under debris. The faded signage above the entrance was barely legible, but Arthur could make out the stylized letters: *Sweets & Cocoa Confectionery Ltd.*
Soda crept forward, her scanner active. The green glow reflected off her face as she swept the perimeter. "No heat signatures. No movement. Looks clean, Commander."
"Set the decoys," Arthur ordered.
Cocoa and Ade deployed a trio of thermal emitters around the building's corners, devices that would mimic human heat signatures and draw any lurking Raptures away from their position. Arthur watched the feed on his Omnitool. Nothing pinged. The sector was eerily quiet.
"We're clear," he said. "Let's move."
The steel doors to the factory entrance were sealed tight, but Ade produced a compact plasma cutter from her supply pack. The beam hissed and sparked, carving a glowing line through the lock mechanism. With a metallic groan, the doors shuddered open, releasing a puff of stale, frigid air.
Arthur stepped inside first, his breath misting in the dim light. The interior was a tomb of industry—conveyor belts frozen mid-operation, vats of indeterminate liquid coated in frost, and a thick layer of dust blanketing every surface. It looked like the place had been abandoned mid-shift, the workers simply vanishing when the Raptures came.
"Oh no," Soda whispered, her voice tight with distress. "This is... this is unacceptable."
Before Arthur could respond, she had already unholstered a compact cleaning wand from her belt and activated it. The high-pitched whir of the vacuum filled the silence as Soda attacked the nearest workstation with the intensity of a woman possessed.
"Soda, we're here for ingredients, not sanitation," Ade said, adjusting her glasses.
"A maid cannot work in filth!" Soda declared, swiping at a dust-covered control panel. "What if we contaminate the chocolate? What if—oh! What's this button do?"
She pressed it.
"Wait—" Arthur began.
The factory erupted into life. Overhead lights flickered on in sequence, bathing the room in harsh white illumination. Conveyor belts groaned as ancient motors sparked to life, and somewhere deep in the building, a generator rumbled like a waking dragon. A series of vents hissed, and warm air—actual warm air—began circulating through the facility.
"Soda!" Cocoa hissed. "You activated the primary systems! We do not know if this facility is stable!"
"I was just cleaning!" Soda wailed, holding her wand like a shield.
A mechanical whir drew Arthur's attention to the center of the room. A projector unit descended from the ceiling on hydraulic arms, its lens glowing with a soft blue light. Static crackled, and then a figure materialized above it—a hologram of a portly man in a chef's uniform, complete with a white hat and a mustache that curled at the ends like a cartoon villain's.
"WELCOME!" the hologram boomed, his voice echoing off the walls. "Welcome, welcome, WELCOME to Sweets and Cocoa Confectionery, the number one producer of premium artisanal chocolates in the pre-war world! I am Sweet Johnny, your automated factory manager and culinary guide!"
Alisa yelped and stumbled backward into Arthur, who steadied her with his prosthetic hands. The hologram spun in a circle, arms spread wide as if addressing an auditorium.
"It has been..." Sweet Johnny paused, his projection flickering slightly. "...thirty-six thousand, four hundred, and seventy-two days since our last visitor! My, how time flies when you're in standby mode! Now, what brings you to our humble establishment? A factory tour? Corporate espionage? Or perhaps... chocolate?"
The maids exchanged glances. Ade stepped forward, her hands folded neatly in front of her. "We require instruction on the creation of Valentine's Day chocolates. Specifically, the recipe that made this facility renowned."
Sweet Johnny's eyes—pixelated approximations though they were—sparkled. "Ah! Romance! Passion! The universal language of cocoa! You've come to the right place, my dear! Sweet Johnny's Ultimate Valentine Recipe is guaranteed to make hearts flutter and knees weak! Follow me, follow me!"
The hologram flickered and reappeared near a reinforced door at the back of the room. "First, we must retrieve the ingredients! Lucky for you, our cryogenic storage is still operational—state-of-the-art preservation technology, I might add. We may not have had a delivery in... oh, hundred and eight years... but what we have is authentic!"
Arthur frowned. "Cryogenic storage? Will the ingredients even be usable?"
"Usable?" Sweet Johnny laughed, a sound like grinding gears. "My boy, those beans are better than the day they were harvested! Frozen at negative forty degrees Celsius within hours of arrival! No oxidation, no degradation, just pure, unadulterated cacao bliss!"
Cocoa tilted her head. "You talk excessively."
Sweet Johnny blinked. "I... well, I haven't had anyone to talk to in a century. Forgive an old AI for being a bit of a chatterbox."
"Let's see the storage," Arthur said, gesturing for the hologram to continue.
Sweet Johnny led them through the factory, his projection jumping from terminal to terminal as they walked. He narrated every step—the history of the building, the awards they'd won, the time a celebrity visited and declared their truffles "divine"—until even Alisa looked ready to mute him.
Finally, they arrived at a massive vault door embedded in the wall. Sweet Johnny's hologram appeared beside a keypad. "Now, the access code is... let me see... ah yes! One, two, three, four, five! We believed in security through simplicity!"
The vault hissed open, releasing a cloud of vapor. Arthur stepped inside, and his breath caught.
The storage chamber was pristine. Row after row of sealed containers lined the walls, each labeled in neat print: *Ecuadorian Cacao Beans*, *Organic Cocoa Butter*, *Madagascar Vanilla Extract*, *Raw Cane Sugar*. The maids followed him in, their eyes wide.
"These are... real," Ade whispered, running a gloved hand over a container. "Not Splendamin. Not synthetic substitutes. Real."
Soda opened one of the crates, revealing dark, glossy beans preserved in vacuum-sealed bags. She held one up to the light, and for a moment, her usual manic energy faded into something softer. "I've never seen actual cacao before. Only pictures in the database."
Cocoa crouched beside another crate, scanning the labels with clinical precision. "The nutrient density is exceptional. If we use these, the chemical composition will be fundamentally superior to anything currently available in the Ark."
Alisa grabbed a bag of sugar and hugged it to her chest. "We can make real chocolate! Commander, this is amazing!"
Arthur looked at the three maids, at the way they handled the ingredients with something approaching reverence. Ade met his gaze, and for the first time since he'd met her, she smiled—small, hesitant, but genuine.
"Commander," she said quietly. "Thank you. For bringing us here. For giving us this opportunity."
"Don't thank me yet," Arthur replied, though his tone was warm. "We still have to make the chocolate."
"Oh, we will," Soda said, clutching a bag of cocoa butter. "And we're going to make you something incredible to repay this."
"All of us," Cocoa added.
Alisa beamed. "A team effort!"
Sweet Johnny's voice echoed through the chamber. "Wonderful! Gather what you need, and meet me at the main kitchen! We have work to do!"
They hauled the ingredients back to the central workspace, where Sweet Johnny directed them to set up stations. The hologram flitted from screen to screen, activating defrost cycles and preheating ancient ovens that groaned back to life.
"Now," Sweet Johnny announced once the ingredients were arrayed on the counter, glistening and thawed, "the secret to the Ultimate Valentine Chocolate is not just technique—it is intention! You must pour your heart into every step! First, the beans must be roasted until they sing!"
"Sing?" Cocoa asked.
"A metaphor, dear girl! Roast them until they release their aroma! You'll know when it's right!"
Ade frowned. "Can you provide a temperature and duration?"
"Bah! Temperatures are for amateurs! Use your instincts!"
Arthur leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching as the maids exchanged uncertain glances. This was going to be chaos.
Soda dumped beans into a roasting pan and cranked the heat. Within minutes, the air filled with a rich, earthy scent. "Is this singing?" she asked.
"Close enough!" Sweet Johnny cheered. "Next, grinding! Grind them until they become a paste! Smooth as a lover's whisper!"
Cocoa took over, feeding the roasted beans into a grinder. The machine whirred, producing a thick, dark paste that oozed into a bowl. She stared at it. "This consistency is inconsistent with standard chocolate texture."
"That's because you haven't added the magic yet!" Sweet Johnny said. "Cocoa butter! Sugar! And... the secret ingredient!"
"Which is?" Ade asked.
"Whatever your heart desires!"
Cocoa's eyes lit up. She reached for a bottle on the shelf—a bottle of ketchup that had somehow survived in the storage.
"Cocoa, no," Ade said.
"The commander enjoyed my ketchup curry," Cocoa replied. "Ketchup enhances flavor profiles."
"That is not—"
"Into the pot it goes!" Sweet Johnny laughed. "Experimentation is the soul of creation!"
Arthur watched as Cocoa squeezed a generous amount of ketchup into her chocolate mixture. Soda, not to be outdone, added what looked like crushed peppermint. Alisa, her tongue poking out in concentration, folded in vanilla extract with the care of a bomb technician.
Ade stood frozen, staring at her own pristine mixture. "This is... not scientifically sound."
"Science is boring!" Sweet Johnny declared. "Trust the process!"
Arthur caught Ade's eye. She looked genuinely distressed. He walked over and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Sometimes the best things aren't perfect, Ade. Just... try."
She nodded slowly, then reached for a small vial of espresso powder and added it to her mix.
The kitchen devolved into controlled chaos—or perhaps uncontrolled chaos. Soda's mixture bubbled ominously. Cocoa's turned a suspicious shade of brown-red. Alisa's looked passable, though she'd somehow gotten chocolate smeared across her cheek. Ade worked in silence, her movements precise but tentative.
Sweet Johnny narrated the entire process, offering vague encouragement and absolutely zero useful guidance. Arthur stood watch, arms folded, wondering if this expedition would result in edible chocolate or a biological weapon.
Finally, the mixtures were poured into molds—heart shapes, of course—and placed in the cooling unit.
"And now," Sweet Johnny said, "we wait! The results will reveal themselves in due time!"
Arthur looked at the four women, covered in chocolate and flour, their faces flushed with effort. Whatever came out of those molds, he suspected it would be memorable.