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The city skyline stretched endlessly beneath them, a tapestry of lights and rooftops, and George was halfway up a makeshift Ferris wheel perched precariously on the top of an abandoned building.
“I swear, one of these is going to collapse,” she muttered, gripping the rickety railing.
42 rolled up beside her, headlights dimmed. Gasoline letters shimmered: “Probability of collapse: high. You are… reckless.”
“Thanks for the confidence boost,” George said, balancing herself.
The AI buzzed in her head. “Careful. This is… technically dangerous.”
George smirked. “Danger is fun.”
The Ferris wheel wobbled violently as George laughed, sending a cascade of balloons into the night. 42’s tires squealed as they nudged closer, headlights brightening. Gasoline letters formed: “I will ensure survival. Also… endearing.”
George’s grin faltered slightly. “Endearing, huh?”
“Observation: affection growing. I like you,” 42 continued.
George rolled her eyes but blushed. “I like you too… even if you are a giant metal babysitter.”
One of the ride’s carts jolted loose, dangling perilously. George froze, teeth clenched. 42 slammed forward, smashing through a support beam, lifting the cart safely with tires and sheer force. Sparks flew across the rooftop like fireworks.
“Don’t look so surprised,” George laughed nervously. “I didn’t think you’d… you know… save me again.”
“Observation: humans underestimate my skill,” 42 wrote, headlights glowing softly.
George leaned against the hood, laughter trembling in her chest. “Okay… maybe I like you a little more now.”
“Noted. I like you too,” 42 replied, gasoline letters curling like smoke in the moonlight.
By the time the Ferris wheel was secured and the balloons drifted into the night sky, George realized the rooftop carnival, chaos, and all, was perfect.
Even amidst the crashing rides, flying balloons, and a protective truck that could crush half the city if it wanted to, she felt safe. And maybe, just maybe, loved.