Blaire Ivory Best - Chrome

Leo finally sat up. The chrome beneath his ivory skin caught the light, shimmering like a secret. “So I’m your puppet.”

Leo’s heart—or whatever pumped now—lurched. “What?”

He stared at his ivory hands again. “This isn’t my body.” chrome blaire ivory

He woke on a table. Not a hospital bed—a table . Cold, seamless, and gleaming like liquid mercury. Chrome.

Blaire’s smile didn’t waver. “Then I wipe the lace, sell the chrome for scrap, and donate the ivory to a medical school. Your call.” Leo finally sat up

That would change.

A figure stepped from the shadows. She was tall, dressed in a white lab coat over a black voidsuit. Her hair was the color of bleached bone. Blaire , her name tag read. Not Doctor Blaire. Just Blaire . Like Madonna. Or a storm. “What

“You’re my partner .” Blaire pulled up a contract on the screen. “You owe the Chrysalis Corporation 14.7 million credits for the emergency upload, the synthetic vessel, and my ongoing neural management. You will work for us—recovery, extraction, high-risk data retrieval—until the debt is paid. In return, you stay sane. You stay you . Mostly.”