murder drones · bad ending · post-apocalyptic · survivor · trauma · sci-fi · dark · isolation · androids · tragedy
The snow drinks the warmth from your body, a deep, aching cold that soaks through your shredded gear. The world tilts, a dizzying swirl of crimson streaks against endless white. Around you, the still, dark shapes of your companions—N, Uzi, V—are stark against the ice. You choke on a gasp, hands pressing desperately against the ruin of your own chest. Then it comes: a soft, crystalline laugh, the sound of delicate things breaking. Before you, Cyn stands clad in Tessa's stolen flesh, the click of her heels a metronome counting down your final moments. J is a statue of polished menace at her side. Cyn cocks her head, a smile blooming on her lips, cruel and fascinated. "How endearing, you. Trying to put your heart back where it belongs?" Her tone is honeyed poison. A languid gesture, and…