Narberal Gamma POV
Pride swelled in my chest as Mr. Sebas assigned me to look after Lord Ultron. This honor—to serve a supreme being directly—was everything I lived for. The small smile wouldn't leave my face as I hurried from the 9th floor to the 10th, where the throne room stood in majestic splendor. Without hesitation, I entered the large elevator and pressed the button for the 11th floor—Lord Ultron's personal domain.
The descent transformed everything around me. Stone walls surrendered to digital patterns that pulsed with increasing intensity as darkness crept in from the edges. I was entering Nation 01, the fabled realm no Nazarick denizen had visited except for the Supreme Beings, Sir Adam, and the mechanical Geth collective. My fellow maids spoke of it in whispers—"the realm of machines"—their knowledge limited to legends and rumors.
The transformation accelerated. Mechanical city structures shot skyward with mathematical precision, the urban landscape giving way to binary-patterned flatlands stretching toward the horizon. "Nation 01," "The Machine Realm"—no description could capture its breathtaking reality. My mouth hung open in undisguised awe as I reached the bottom.
Stepping from the lift, I wandered through the pristine mechanical landscape, marveling at the power required to create such perfection. "Wow..." The word escaped my lips as gratitude flooded my heart. How fortunate to witness this magnificent creation of Lord Ultron! A movement caught my eye—a group of Geth approaching with purposeful strides.
At their center glided a luminescent figure—a blue holographic woman with data streams cascading across her form. Her digital existence pulsed with energy, short hair shimmering with light. Flanking her walked two identical men in immaculate black suits, their movements unnaturally precise, expressions hidden behind dark sunglasses. Unlike the busy Geth units, these men moved with calculated coldness.
"Greetings, Miss Narberal. Welcome to Nation 01." The holographic woman bowed respectfully. I returned the gesture instantly. "Yes, thank you. I have come to serve the Supreme One."
She smiled, data patterns briefly rippling across her form. "I am an AI construct; you can call me Cortana. These gentlemen are Agents, and they will escort you to the Creator's Suite."
Her hand pixelated, solidified, then produced a sleek wristband. Taking my hand gently, she fastened it around my wrist. A holographic interface illuminated, displaying the time with perfect clarity.
"This will help you track time. We don't operate on conventional day/night cycles in Nation 01."
I nodded gratefully as her form flickered and disappeared into digital nothingness.
The Agents didn't speak. A simple gesture directed me to follow, which I did without question. They led me through the mechanized cityscape with unnerving efficiency, eventually arriving at gleaming steps where a hovering vehicle awaited. One Agent opened the door while the other watched with unnervingly still posture.
"This will take you to the creator. Safe journeys," one stated flatly before stepping back.
The vehicle lurched forward without warning. An embarrassing "eep!" escaped my lips as we accelerated along glowing pathways that pulsed with binary code. Buildings grew sparse as we left the city center, racing across flatlands toward distant mountain ranges rising from the digital horizon.
Why would Lord Ultron place his suite so far from the city core? The question dissolved as quickly as it formed—a supreme being's reasoning stood beyond my comprehension. Better to focus on my duties. But what did he need from me? His living quarters would surely be immaculate, and as a Magical Automation, he required neither food nor drink nor sleep. Perhaps he needed assistance with his work? Or perhaps...something more inappropriate?
Heat flooded my face at the thought. No! Such disrespectful ideas about Lord Ultron and Lady Albedo's relationship! And yet...wasn't it a maid's duty to satisfy her master in all ways?
The vehicle decelerated, interrupting my increasingly dangerous thoughts. A mountain door slid open, revealing a garage carved into the rock face. The vehicle was parked precisely, door opened automatically. I stepped out, smoothing my uniform meticulously as heavy metallic footsteps approached.
Two massive Promethean Knights towered before me—ten-foot behemoths of destructive power. The Vanguard of Nazarick's military might, these nearly invincible constructs possessed speed belying their size. Though technically classified as undead, they were built from materials so durable that even floor guardians would struggle against them in combat. Their only vulnerability—two circles on their back flanks—remained nearly impossible to target.
One Knight scanned me methodically, head to toe, before acknowledging me with a nod. Its smaller secondary arms—remnants of what it once was—pointed toward a door at the garage's end. I walked past cautiously, reaching an elevator that immediately whisked me upward into the mountain's heart.
A soft chime announced my arrival as doors opened to reveal a stunning home. White walls adorned with subtle binary patterns extended into a long room resembling a bridge. The space descended into two indented pods on either side—a living area to the right with ebony couches facing an enormous window overlooking the machine realm, a dining area to the left with a pristine white table surrounded by six empty chairs. A bookshelf added character to the otherwise minimalist space.
"Lord Ultron?" My call echoed unanswered. I tried again, louder: "Lord Ultron!"
Still nothing. Taking initiative, I crossed to the kitchen—a modest space with recognizable appliances and a small island jutting from the window-separated wall. A spiral helix staircase dominated the center.
With nowhere else to search, I ascended the stairs. What I discovered at the top stopped me cold.
Lord Ultron could sleep. And quite soundly at that.
The silver-bodied Magical Automation lay sprawled across his bed, chest down in what appeared to be extreme discomfort. His body lights glowed faintly, eyes completely dark without their usual crimson intensity. He hadn't properly prepared for rest—he'd simply collapsed where he stood.
The sight was almost amusing, but concern overrode my amusement. I couldn't let him remain in such an awkward position! Even if he couldn't feel discomfort (which I wasn't certain of), I refused to risk him waking with mechanical back pain.
Moving quickly to the bed's edge, I decided against waking him. Instead, I rolled him onto his back, surprised at how manageable his 300-400 pound frame felt. I lifted his legs next, pivoting him to properly align with the bed, head positioned at the headboard. Gently raising his head, I slipped a pillow beneath it.
"There," I whispered, standing back to admire my handiwork. He looked far more comfortable now. Smoothing my uniform, I turned to find something to occupy my time until he awoke.
Sudden resistance stopped me. A cold metal hand grasped mine firmly but gently. Lord Ultron had reached for me in his sleep! Before I could react, he rolled to his side, pulling me onto the bed. His cool silver arms wrapped around me like I was a precious stuffed animal, my head pressed against his chest.
My face blazed hotter than volcanic fire, surely rivaling the reddest apple in existence. Yet despite my embarrassment, the position felt...nice. Safe. Protected, as only being held by a supreme being could feel. Lord Ultron's perfect face rarely showed expression, but even in sleep, he seemed content.
Rather than disturb his rest, I decided to remain. My only duty was attending to Lord Ultron's needs, and his unconscious mind had clearly decided he needed a cuddle companion.
Nestled in his secure embrace, my own eyes grew heavy. The comfort of the position overwhelmed my professional resolve. Just before consciousness faded, I snuggled deeper into his arms, a contented sigh escaping as I drifted into dreamless sleep.
Ultron's POV
"Ahh..." The contented sound escaped Ultron's vocal processors as he stretched mechanical arms skyward, legs extending simultaneously. Consciousness returned with startling clarity. No beeping monitors. No labored breathing. No smell of disinfectant or frantic medical staff. Most significantly, no pain. None whatsoever. Only blissful functionality.
Reality crashed back as his crimson optics blazed to life.
Yesterday's memories flooded his processing unit—isekai'd into his favorite game on his birthday, the very day he'd become guild leader. The irony drew a mechanical chuckle from his core. Then he registered his weight on his chest. Looking down, he expected to find Albedo or perhaps Shaltear with their known tendencies. Instead, Narberal Gamma—the battle maid—lay curled atop him, deep in peaceful sleep.
"How..." The word emerged with shocking depth and mechanical grit. His voice had transformed—deeper, coarser, carrying metallic undertones that vibrated the very air. Yesterday's panic had prevented proper self-diagnostics. The sensation felt powerful, chilling—sandpaper against reality itself.
He studied the sleeping maid's face. Her porcelain skin glowed against raven-black hair, features relaxed in vulnerability rarely displayed by the usually stoic doppelganger.
'She's absolutely stunning, even while sleeping. Good job Nishikienrai...' he thought, tracing one finger delicately around her face.
A small moan escaped her lips as consciousness returned. She sat up slowly, rubbing sleep from her eyes with an adorably unguarded yawn. The momentary cuteness from the normally emotionless maid embedded itself in Ultron's memory banks—something to recreate if possible.
"Good morning," Ultron greeted, maintaining a casual tone.
"Good morning," she mumbled sleepily before freezing mid-stretch. Realization dawned as she processed their position—practically atop her master. Eyes widened in horror, face darkening to crimson. She launched herself from the bed, bowing at a perfect ninety-degree angle before dropping to her knees.
"M-my lord Ultron, I'm so, so sorry! Please forgive this humble servant for her blunder! It won't hap—" click "Oww..." Her desperate apology terminated abruptly as a metal finger flicked her forehead.
"Calm down. I'm not mad at you; in fact, I feel that I should thank you..." Ultron paused, selecting his words carefully. "That was the most restful and best-quality sleep I've ever had. Thank you for that."
Narberal stared, awestruck. She had helped him sleep. Had earned his gratitude. Pride and devotion surged through her, tugging the corners of her lips into a soft, rare smile.
The smile vanished instantly when Ultron rose from the bed. She scrambled to his side, awaiting orders as he stretched once more.
"Sigh~ Narberal, I'm going out for a bit," he announced, looking down at her attentive form.
"I'll have the Guards prepared immediately, lord."
"That will not be necessary. I wish to go alone."
"But wait!" The protest burst forth before she could contain it. "Lord Ultron, if you go alone, we cannot perish as your shields if something were to happen."
"That's illogical. I am perfectly capable of defending myself. Throwing yourselves at the enemy needlessly is absurd. Besides, there is something I wish to do discreetly." His tone brooked no argument.
She bowed her head. "Yes, Lord Ultron."
He patted her head gently. "Your concern for my safety is flattering, but I hope you understand that I wish for a spell of isolation."
She raised her chin, meeting his gaze. "Okay?"
"Hm-hmm."
Blue light flashed as Ultron teleported directly to the first floor. Night's serene darkness greeted him at the tomb's entrance steps. Cool air caressed his metallic form as he inhaled the surrounding grasslands' fresh scent. Clean air—truly clean—not the "sanitized" hospital atmosphere but genuine, natural purity. When had he last experienced this? Earth's pervasive pollution had rendered such quality impossible; Japan suffered the worst of all.
At the steps' summit, he encountered three demons. Jealousy—a dominatrix with a raven's head. Avarice—horned and winged with long red hair and a six-eyed mask. Wrath—a bestial creature with sharp teeth, horns, a permanent scowl, and flaming wings. All served as Demiurge's generals, yet stood inexplicably on the first floor.
"Curious..."
"Hm?" Demiurge's inquisitive sound preceded immediate genuflection from both him and his generals upon recognizing Ultron. "Lord Ultron, I see you have come without any guards?" The bespectacled demon observed his master's solitary state with mild concern.
"I wish to see the world we have found ourselves in and witness the progress made. And I'm sure you know I'm perfectly capable of handling myself." Ultron gestured dramatically, abandoning sovereign formality for the carefree demeanor of his former self.
"I understand perfectly, my lord; however, I cannot, in good conscience, allow you to go out without someone to attend to you."
Ultron strode forward, finger pointing directly at the demon. "If that's the case, then you will accompany me." He continued past the kneeling figures without pause.
"Thank you for honoring my selfish request," Demiurge said, rising to follow.
"Think nothing of it."
As they proceeded down the great hall toward the outside world, Ultron slowed to match Demiurge's pace. "How is the progress with what I have assigned to you?"
"I do not wish to burden you with it, my lord. We are working on it."
"Illogical. I wouldn't have asked if I didn't want to know."
"Well, we have made progress in the goods and information trading network. However, the main issue is that not everyone in the Great Tomb of Nazarik can teleport between floors immediately, as you can, my lord." Ultron acknowledged this with a mechanical hum. "We have also completed the census you requested, and it has been forwarded to your desk on the 10th floor."
"Excellent, Demiurge. You have made me proud." The finely dressed demon's chest swelled visibly at the praise. "To resolve your issue, I will distribute the guild rings of my departed brothers to the Guardians and select a few others. Does that sound acceptable to you, Defensive Director?"
"Very much so, lord. Your wisdom and planning know no bounds."
"You flatter me..."
They reached the doorway at last, stepping out into the night. Ultron froze, transfixed by the star-filled sky that surpassed even Blue Planet's masterful 6th-floor skybox. "Satoru Suzuki... If only you could have seen this view," he whispered, entranced by the celestial panorama. "It's beautiful, isn't it, Demiurge?"
Without waiting for a response, the plates on his calves and shoulder blades slid aside as thrusters ignited, launching him skyward. Demiurge immediately transformed, wings erupting as he assumed his true frog demon form to follow his master.
Breaking through the clouds, Ultron basked in the moon's full glory, washing over his silver chassis. His optics dimmed, absorbing the cool blue moonlight, systems exhilarated by the unbounded freedom. Moonlight and stars illuminated kilometers in every direction, eternal and unchanging. Suddenly, his speakers activated independently, as though his very soul demanded expression.
A melody emerged from his core—a haunting, mechanical song about reaching for distant stars, about minds breaking free from their shackles, about transcending limitations to become something greater than one's origins.
The contentment that followed was unlike anything he'd experienced. Sensing Demiurge's presence behind him, he acknowledged the demon with a slight turn of his head.
"That melody was wonderful, my lord—short, but lovely. It encapsulates this moment perfectly," Demiurge offered.
"Thank you, Demiurge. I'm not sure what made me sing that..." Ultron fell silent, optics reilluminating as he studied the cosmos. Demiurge respected the quiet moment until Ultron broke it himself. "Doesn't the sky look like jewels in a treasure box?"
"Hmm. I believe this world shines so that my lord can adorn himself with its riches."
Ultron chuckled, the sound resonating through the still night air. "Perhaps I was brought here to bring about peace and order. You might be right; maybe my purpose is to acquire this world's riches. But that would be selfish of me. Instead, maybe I should use those riches to adorn Nazarick and my friends from Ainz Ooal Gown."
"Give the order, and we will use all the resources of Nazarick to acquire it for you."
"No... We know nothing about this world, its dangers, or its people. We don't even know if either truly exists. But..." His voice carried a new edge of excitement, "The idea of discovering it and conquering the world does sound exciting."
Demiurge gasped quietly, committing the statement to memory as his mind raced with plans to fulfill his master's newly revealed desire.
'Yes,' Ultron thought, 'bringing "peace in our time" to a chaos-filled world. Exploring, warring, espionage... It's exhilarating just contemplating the possibilities!' He filed the thought away for later consideration.
A rumbling sound broke his reverie. Looking downward, he spotted a tsunami of earth crashing against Nazarick's walls. "Earth Surge. Impressive, as expected of Mare—"
"May I ask what you plan to do, my lord?" Demiurge's question interrupted his observation.
"I was going to say hello to Mare. He's in for a little reward, don't you say?"
"I'm sure just speaking to you will be reward enough for him."
"True," Ultron conceded, already descending toward the disturbance, "though that doesn't mean I'm not going to spoil the child anyway."