Just Lunch and HR counseling

Lunch was, once again, a bowl of unidentifiable mush with the occasional chunk of meat. At least it was steamed this time, and there was a faint hint of seasoning. Still, as Ethan **** down another spoonful, that familiar cloying sensation crept up his throat. He grimaced, swallowing hard. Something to wash it down with would help.

He turned to Edna, the ever-diligent pill-shaped robotic overseer. "Hey, Edna, I need a drink. Got any soda?"

Edna’s emoticon face flickered slightly, as if analyzing his request. "Soda is unhealthy, however you may wash down the porridge using the spigot in the wall."

Ethan’s eyes flickered toward the metal fixture embedded in the smooth, sterile surface of the room.

"Fine," he muttered, deciding to save the dubious refreshment for after his meal. He powered through the last few spoonfuls, grimacing as the texture of the mush stuck to his tongue.

Once his bowl was empty, he scooted around and positioned himself in front of the spigot. Kneeling, he wrapped his lips around the rubber base and sucked, trying not to think too hard about how weird this entire situation was. A familiar citrusy liquid flooded his mouth, washing away the aftertaste of his meal. He kept drinking, content—until something changed.

His eyes widened as an unexpected rush of carbonation tickled his throat. He chokes slightly as the sudden carbonation hits his throat, pulling back abruptly. Soda? Really?

"You earned a reward for not making a fuss this time," Edna explained, her voice unwavering.

He swallows the soda, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion and slight annoyance. "A reward? For eating that... that mush?" He mutters under his breath, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "What am I, a fucking lab rat?"

But he does hesitantly brings his lips back to the spigot, testing again. Sure enough, fizzy citrus liquid fills his mouth.

Just like last time, as he drank, warmth spread through his body. His face flushed, and an odd tingling sensation trickled through his limbs, pooling low in his abdomen. He gasped, pulling away sharply.

Edna’s lens tilted slightly. "Something wrong? Did you not like the soda enhancement?"

Enhancement?" He asks warily, gripping the edge of the sink to steady himself. He feels...unsettled. Too warm. Too fuzzy. Something is definitely happening to him. "No—uh, yeah, Its fine." He shook his head, deciding not to dwell on the strange reaction.

Besides, it was almost six o’clock.

After lunch, Edna guided him through what she described as a "customer service and conflict resolution training module." To Ethan, it felt like a bizarre combination of corporate team-building exercises and therapy. She walked him through different conflict scenarios, detailing strategies for de-escalation and emotional regulation.

Ethan frowned. "Uh, what is this for?"

"Research indicates that gamers traditionally exhibit a short temper and poor hygiene. This program is designed to strengthen the hippocampus and refine socio-emotional behavior. We aim to improve conflict resolution skills and foster emotional intelligence."

Ethan’s eyes narrow at the robot's explanation, crossing his arms. "So you're trying to turn me into some sensitive, emotionally intelligent guy? Fuck that. I'm fine the way I am." He snaps,

Great just he wanted. To be kidnapped from his own home but a bunch of aliens to to be trained to join their own version of the Ninja Olympics ... while being **** fed HR crap.

"Fantastic. Then let's speed this up. The sooner you demonstrate basic competence, the sooner you're free to go do whatever macho nonsense you’ve been dying to get back to," Edna replies flatly. "Or, if you'd prefer, we can extend today's session by another two hours."

He listens with half an ear, his mind wandering as Edna drones on about "empathy mapping" and "I-statements". He goes through the motions, pretending to care about "active listening" and "acknowledging the other person's feelings". And just when hes about to spew another complaint Edna wraps up the session.

"You have made remarkable progress, Ethan. Most trainees do not engage as seamlessly with the program on their first day."

He uncrosses his arms, trying to look mildly interested instead of completely disinterested. "Yeah, yeah. Can I go now?" He asks, standing up and stretching.

However oddly, something about that statement warmed him. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had praised his work ethic.

Then something hits him - today had been weird as hell, but also... kind of not a complete waste. He actually felt good about handling those 'training' exercises. "Do I get dinner or what?"

“Yes of course please sit in the kitchen area as the food arrives.”

And just like last time the same cloying mushy food arrives with the same thick spigot he had to drink out of.

He sighs heavily, but makes his way to the kitchen area. The mushy food looks just as unappetizing as he remembers. He stares at the spigot for a moment before reluctantly kneeling down and bringing his mouth to it.

Once again after drinking it the fruity concoction he’s met the same growing hot feeling in his nether regions

He pulls away from the spigot abruptly, gasping as the now-familiar heat spreads through him. Muttering curses under his breath, he staggers to his feet, his face flushed.

"I have much to document in your report. You are now free to engage in entertainment activities of your choosing."

Ethan blinked. "Uh, Edna… where exactly would I find said entertainment tools?"

"In the TV stand," she replied. "A variety of games and activities are available."

Ethan nodded, suppressing a small smirk. "Mmhmm. Good to know."

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*Update* Changed up this recent chapter a bit

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