High above, a holographic error message spun in the clouds. Status: DEPLOYED Host: [ERROR: SPECIES MISMATCH] Activation Phrase: “Umai.” (Note: colloquial for ‘delicious/yummy’) Neko yawned, revealing a tiny fang. She remembered the old days. Version 0001 had been a radiant blonde girl with a talking tiara. Version 0042 had been a melancholic violinist. But after ninety-three reboots, the divine server had gotten
 sloppy.

“Fairy Princess -v0094-,” Neko said, her voice a low, gravelly purr. “Designation: Umai Neko. I don’t do flying kicks. I don’t do heartfelt speeches. But I do fix broken desserts.”

Maybe version 0094 wasn’t a mistake.

She didn’t feel like transforming. She felt like napping. But the protocol was ancient, and even a cynical cat respects a legacy.