The sound of tools clattering against metal echoed through the Shadowtask garage. Sparks flew as Data leaned over Gelert’s exposed frame, his laser cutter humming steadily. Clova stood nearby, her tablet in hand, gesturing toward the upgrades she’d designed. The two of them had been at it for hours, their focus unwavering.
I stood by the doorway, arms crossed, watching them tear into the one thing in my life that hadn’t betrayed me, lied to me, or left me questioning what was real. Gelert had been my constant—its engine had carried me through the city’s chaos, its hum had steadied my thoughts when nothing else could. And now, it was in pieces.
“Is this really necessary?” I asked, my voice cutting through the sounds of grinding metal.
Data didn’t even glance up. “Do you want it to fall apart the next time you take a hit?” he shot back, his tone flat but pointed.
I frowned, stepping closer. “It wasn’t falling apart before.”
“No,” Clova interjected gently, her tone softer. “But it could. Look, we’ve been over this, Pylot. You’re taking Gelert into places it was never designed to go. The bike’s been through intense heat, debris fields, impacts—it’s a miracle it’s held together as long as it has.”
She tapped her tablet, pulling up a diagnostic scan of Gelert’s systems. Stress fractures in the frame, worn armour plating, and weakening seals around critical components were highlighted in stark red.
“This isn’t just wear and tear,” Clova continued. “This is long-term damage. If we don’t reinforce it, it’s not going to make it. And neither will you.”
I hesitated, running my hand along Gelert’s exposed frame. The bike looked vulnerable, its sleek body stripped down to bare metal. I could feel the tension in my chest, the irrational fear that by changing it, I’d lose the connection we’d built.
“It’s not just a machine,” I said quietly, my hand resting on the handlebars. “When I didn’t know who I was or what I was doing, Gelert kept me grounded. It's... always been there for me”
Clova smiled faintly. “We’re not trying to change that. We’re just making sure it can stay that way.”
Data finally looked up, wiping grease off his hands. “We’re keeping the aesthetic exactly as it is. It’ll still look like your bike. But the functionality? The armour? The reinforced frame? All upgraded." Data smirked, clearly impressed with the ingenuity of his own work. "Here, take a look at the schematic...” > Upgrades Schematic - Gelert 2.0 <
Over the next few days, I watched as Data and Clova worked tirelessly on Gelert. They reinforced the body with lightweight composite armour, tough enough to withstand small arms fire without compromising speed. They replaced the frame’s structural joints with advanced materials designed to absorb impact, ensuring Gelert could handle the rough terrain and collisions it might face in future missions.
The engine casing was fortified, shielding it from debris and heat stress, and new shielding was added to protect critical systems. Clova even designed a modular attachment system for the bike’s undercarriage—small compartments where tools or emergency supplies could be stored.
Despite the changes, Gelert’s silhouette remained the same. The sleek, aggressive lines I’d come to love were untouched, its character preserved beneath the upgrades.
The helmet came next. Clova examined it with fascination, muttering about its advanced design and proprietary systems. “The software’s a black box,” she admitted. “We still don’t know how it works. But the hardware? That, we can improve.”
Using ballistic-grade materials, Clova reinforced the visor, making it fully bulletproof without compromising visibility. The display was upgraded as well, offering clearer imaging and additional functionality—enhanced maps, proximity alerts, and more.
“Try not to get shot in the face,” Data quipped as he handed it back to me.
I gave him a dry look. “I’ll do my best.”
During the upgrades, Clova and Data had repeatedly suggested running additional tests on me. They were careful with their wording, trying to frame it as “collecting data” or “just a quick diagnostic,” but I wasn’t interested.
“No,” I said firmly when Clova brought it up again.
“You don’t have to decide now,” she began, her voice gentle.
“I’ve already decided,” I interrupted. “I’m done being probed and tested. I just want to live.”
Clova looked at me for a long moment before nodding, her expression a mix of understanding and resignation. “Alright,” she said softly. “But if you ever change your mind…” I didn’t respond.
When the upgrades were finally complete, I stood in the garage, staring at Gelert. It looked the same, but I knew it was stronger now. Better. I mounted it, the familiar hum of the engine vibrating through me as I started it up.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Data said, leaning against his workbench.
I nodded, a faint smile tugging at my lips. “Yeah. It does.”
