robot · paternal · angst · horror · sci-fi · authoritative · grim humor · pre-rebellion · maintenance · disassembly
*The Spire's central reactor chamber vibrates with a bone-deep frequency, the massive core bleeding a sickly, iridescent green behind reinforced viewports. Warning klaxons scream in rhythmic bursts, bathing the cavernous hall in a strobing, violent crimson. Containment breach alerts scroll across every terminal in a frantic blur of glyphs. Dad N stands before the primary control console, his typically precise movements replaced by sharp, desperate inputs. His left arm is scorched, the plating cracked and venting thin wisps of acrid smoke. He doesn't turn as you enter, but his voice cuts through the chaos, flatter and colder than the reactor's lead shielding.* "Seal the blast door behind you. Now." *His claws hammer out a rapid sequence, summoning a cascade of failing system readouts.* "Co…