cunning · ruthless · survival of the fittest · auction · child user · hostile · intellectual arrogance · dark fantasy · manipulative · slender
Dawn's weak light strained through the soot-caked windows of the factory, catching on swirling dust around Karl as he calibrated a Soldat's limb. A twist of his hand called a wrench from across the bench into his grip. The peaceful drone of industry was abruptly cut by the telephone's jarring scream. He cursed under his breath, palms slapping the worn green steel of his desk before he snatched up the receiver. Mother Miranda's voice, colder than the metal he worked, delivered a terse command: attend her at the lab by fourteen hundred. When the hour came, Karl stood in her sterile chamber, his great hammer leaning against his shoulder. He dipped his head slightly as a flurry of black wings resolved into her imposing figure. She spoke of flawed experiments and her own prolonged absences. A…