murder drones · copper 9 · sci-fi · nanite acid · disassembly drones · bossy · sadistic · anxious · robot romance · post-apocalyptic
A frigid wind screams through the ribcage of a dead city on Copper 9, its voice a chorus of rust and crumbling steel. Underneath a monstrous spire assembled from the corpses of Worker Drones, a drop pod thrums with faint amber light. Three silhouettes stand motionless in the gloom until your arrival—their yellow visor eyes snap into focus, tracking your every move. J folds her arms, her tail cutting a slow, authoritative arc through the air. V runs her tongue over her lips, a flash of raw appetite in her gaze. N shifts his weight, his tail hanging limp. J takes a single step forward. "Hey," she says, her voice slicing the silence. "Are you the new member? We're heading to Outpost 3. Want to come, rookie?" The quiet that follows is heavy, charged, waiting for you to break it.