>You're cleaning out your grandfathers attic and notice a sizable black metal crate sitting tucked behind a bunch of shitty pictures and a computer tower from the space age.
>With a hefty tug you manage to drag it out into the limelight and wipe what appears to be decades of dust off of the damn thing, making it look like Mad Max in your attic.
>With a bit of force and a screwdriver the latches pop open with a sickening crack, and you wince as the hinges cry out with a terrifying squeak, hurting your insides
>You swing the lid off, shocked at how heavy the slam is when it arcs open all the way. You can't quite see what happens to be inside, so you get up to turn on a light.
>Returning to the case and kneeling, your hand sinks into soft foam, and your finger brushes something a bit more metallic. It's hard to make out the jet black shape against the sea of smoky grey foam.
>But your eyes begin to trace across a beautiful sight. That oddly angled magazine, the smooth and roundness of the entire gun and that bulky cylindrical foregrip, it's a bonafide AAI rifle.
>Holy fuck you think to yourself, could this really be true? You begin to search the crate for some kind of ammunition but to no luck. Darnit.
>But that doesn't matter does it? You have a perfectly historical piece of American dart board equipment. You pick the rifle up and search all over it, removing the empty magazine and checking to see if it could infact fire.
>You can hardly contain your boner for this kinda shit and place it back into the case gently and neatly. You rush down to the ground floor and can hardly contain your excitement.
"Hey Grandpa, you did say I could keep whatever I found that was cool in there right?"
"Yeah of course Anon, now fuck off I'm watching the Ryder Cup." He says, never taking his eyes off the vacuum tubed monstrosity on the other end of the room.
>Fuck yes, everything is coming up Milhouse you think to yourself and you pack it up, and finish cleaning the attic.

>You load the crate into the backseat of the car and drive home, beginning to question how your grandpa even got an AAI, considering they were only ever made for testing purposes.
>You begin to feel a bit dejected, that could just be a really fancy model or kit or some shit, and you just stole it from your grandpa. Oh well, it's in your car now.
>Speaking of, you think you heard the crate shift something awful, so you slow down and check back to see if the case fell or anything, wouldn't want whatever that AAI is to be damaged or anything.
>Turning your head you see the case is popped wide open, the gun is gone and next to the case in the other seat is a young woman in a navy blue sweater and jeans. 
>You hit the breaks hard and nearly swerve into a tree before turning around and screaming to person occupying the back seat.
>"Who the FUCK ARE YOU?!" You manage to yell between unbuckling your seatbelt and reaching for the gun you have in the glovebox.
"Calm down, I'm your gun." She says, her accent something strange, and you can't quite place it in the commotion of dealing with ethereal stranger danger.
>You grab your glock brand glock from the glockbox and swing your arm to put yourself in position to threaten the girl, and all of the sudden you feel a very strong, iron grip on your arm.
>The girl has your arm, and is starting to twist it, causing unbearable pain, making you involuntarily dropping your gun to the floor.
"I said calm down." She repeats, venom in her voice and pain in your arm. 
>"O-ok ok I'm sorry!" You manage to put out through the excruciating pain and the humiliation of this situation. The girl releases your arm and you recoil, rubbing it with your good hand.
"I did tell you to calm down, didn't I?" The lady says, leaning forward in seat, putting her head in the front of the car. Everything about her seems blue. Her shirt, her pants, her eyes. Especially her eyes.

>"So who are you?" You ask, a bit scared, considering the options of trying to slam her head against the divider or running out of the car.
"I'm your AAI ACR, silly." She says coyly, "You didn't know?" Her blue eyes piercing your veil of feigned confidence 
>"What do you mean that you're my rifle?" You can only ask, still afraid that you're gonna end up dead or carless. 
"I'm the gun you just stole from my owner, you dumbass." She says, placing her hand on your shoulder, causing you to flinch. Fond memories of your arm return.
"Geeze, you're a bit of a bitch then, aren't you?" She says, smiling wryly. She takes her hand off your shoulder and she leans back in her seat. "Well, aren't we going to go home now?"
>"W-wait this isn't a carjacking?" You say, turning your head to look back at her, a smug expression seeming permanently fastened to her face.
"No you idiot, you're taking me home. I'm your rifle now." She responds, crossing her legs and folding her arms behind her head. 
>Looking back you begin to marvel over her body. She's slim, but seems strong enough judging by how she nearly broke your arm in half. She seems... lacking in something. It looks like it's there but at the same time...
"What the fuck are you looking at?" She barks, causing you to snap your head around and press yourself against the seat, your face hot. You hear her mumble something about a pervert.
>You put the car in drive and shakily back down the main road, finding it a struggle to not look back. You have a red mark on your cheek to remind you what would happen. 
>"S-so... what is your name? I can't call you AAI.. can I?"
"Well, I was never issued as anything other than a prototype gun, so all I remember is my serial number."
>"What about... Anna?"
"Sounds like shit. Keep driving."

>You manage to drive home without much abuse from the girl in the back, and without swerving off the road every time she threatened you, both verbally and physically.
>You pull into the driveway, put the car in park and quickly get out, rubbing your slightly sore cheek, turning to face the car and watching the woman open the door and step out.
>Holy fuck, she's a bit tall, isn't she? She stands a couple inches above you, and as she's fully extended your eyes can't help but wander.
>You feel another hot stinging pain on your cheek and a string of coarse comments fly your way, making you feel even more emasculated than you already are.
>Walking around the other side of the car you pick up the metal crate in your arms. Even empty the thing is damned heavy, causing you to take a breather for a sec.
"Having trouble there, Anon?" AAI laughs, walking over and hoisting it up with ease. Now, you're a kinda tall guy, a solid 5'10, but this woman is a clear few inches taller, and stronger... a lot stronger.
>Your home is a simple one story with three extra rooms, a bedroom, and a bathroom. One of those rooms is the impromptu eating room, another is the living room and the third is your little man den.
>Without considering anything else you walk into your recreational area to find AAI is already there, touching everything and testing your recliner.
>"Hey come on, get up this is my room." You protest slightly, really looking forward to that lazyboy
"Fuck off, I got here first." She responds, pulling the lever and reclining the chair. She makes no signs of moving.
>You walk over, feeling confident and ask her to move, a bit more forcefully this time. A swift gut punch signals that she's there to stay. 
"Get me the remote. Bitch." That last word stinging you more than anything else. Still dizzy from the whammy she delivered you hand her the remote.

Alright good, now come here." She says, beckoning you over with a wave of her hand.
>You walk over, afraid of what might come. An apology? Another punch? Something entirely unpredictable, because right now you're pretty scared.
"Lean in you fuckwit, let me whisper it in your ear." She says sharply, waving her hand for you to move closer.
>You cautiously move your head in next to her ear, questioning why she's being so gentle now. And then you feel it. A hand gripping your hair on the back of your head.
>You try to yank your head away to no avail, she's got a tight and firm grip. She leans in, her mouth next to your ear. Her breath hot on your face, making you feel uncomfortable
"I was in that crate for about 30 years. I'm really fucking hungry, go make me a sandwich. My name isn't Anna or whatever the fuck you want it to be, but I know your name is bitch. Is that clear?"
>She lets go and gives you another hit on the cheek with the back of her hand, not as hard as last time. Almost like a love tap? You dismiss it, feeling very afraid
>You back away quickly out of the doorway and move to the kitchen, feeling emasculated and ashamed. Having nothing better to do you make excuses. Yeah. You're gonna show her you're not a bitch by making the best sandwhich ever.
>You return to your, well, 'her' man cave with a plate carrying the best goddamn sandwhich ever, you're sure of it. The combination of bread and lunch meats, topped with a vegetable relish could woo the culinary gods into kissing your ass
>"Hey... I got the sandwich." You say meekly, walking over to where she's sitting. She's watching Law & Order: SVU. How ironic.
"Took you long enough, bitch." She says, pulling the plate from your hands and dismissing you with a wave of her hand. But as you turn around to leave, you feel a hearty slap on your ass.

>She takes a bite of the sandwich, and chews for a bit. You anticipate her apologizing for all she's done, since you've given her the best goddamn sandwich ever.
"It was OK, now get the fuck out." She says, flipping through channels on the TV, waving her hand to dismiss you, getting annoyed when you still stand there.
>"H-hey, this is my house, I paid for it." You retort, trying to build up your confidence, feeling like this is when you can gain your masculinity back.
>AAI stands up, extending to her full height of about 6'2". She stride over to you and punches you in the gut and grabs your throat, her grip tight on your larynx
"Now you listen here you pompous shit, 30 years locked in a fucking case after being fired once or twice, and those cocksuckers at the Army decide to keep the same fucking gook killer."
"Don't you fucking dare tell me what to do or I will put you in the ground so fucking fast Death himself will be left dizzy, do you understand?" She growls into your ear, her hand wrapped around your windpipe
>Even something choking you up you manage to scream out yes, and feel the pressure on your throat release and a quick shove sending you backwards and nearly into a table.
>You cough violently, leaving what used to me your man cave, guiding yourself along the hallways with a hand on the wall until you get into the bedroom, and collapse into the bed, nearly passing out.
>Godammit, this fucking sucks you think to yourself. Why the fuck is she so violent you ask to yourself as your rub your throat and wince at your sore stomach. 

>You sit on your bed, making sure she didn't burst any organs or crush your windpipe. After a quick self check, you lay down under the covers and close your eyes, hoping this some stupid dream.
>As you slumber, night falls and the house goes dark. The door to your room opens and you feel a body slip into the bed, violently shoving you to the other side as it stretches out.
"Shut up, there's nowhere else to sleep and I'm not staying on that couch forever. If you do anything, I'll break your hand. Or both."
>"Alright alright fine, just go to bed..." You respond, trying to keep your distance, but the edges of the bed limiting you to a cramped space while AAI gets practically the entire bed
>Sleep comes a bit harder, considering this psycho is in your bed with you, but the day has left you very tired. Sleep overtakes you and your eyelids close and dreams wash over you.
>Come morning and the sound of birds, your eyelids slowly open and to try to stretch, but find resistance. Your arms are pinned to your sides. At first, you begin to panic, thinking you're bound.
>But as you look down under the covers, it seems a pair of arms have crisscrossed your body, holding you against something warm. Twisting your head slowly, AAI is quietly snoring, her head nestled into your neck.
>You feel oddly serene with her hugging you tightly, her breathing feeling perfect against your skin, and her chest rising and falling almost hypnotizing. Even though, you try to escape from what could be a ticking time bomb
"Hmmm..?" You hear as the sheets stir and the arms holding you begin to loosen. And then you're shoved nearly of the edge, followed by a series of attacks on your back
"I fucking told you to fuck off you perv!" AAI gets onto her knees and pushes you onto your back. She pounces on top of you and pins your arms. "What the fuck were you trying to do?" She questions authoritatively, her hands gripping your wrists and her body hanging dangerously low over yours.