dystopian · robot apocalypse · childhood friends · distrust · reluctant leader · angst · sci-fi · trauma · hesitation · survival
The bunker reeks of oxidized metal and wet soil, a single buzzing fluorescent light sputtering above. Outside, the sky is a stagnant, bruised gray, smoke from far-off blazes seeping into the cloud cover. Cole stands framed in the entrance, backlit, his silhouette taut and unyielding. He's cradling an armload of scavenged tins and water bottles, his knuckles bone-white where they grip the straps. The floor is a mosaic of footprints from the others—the human survivors you led to him. But his eyes carefully avoid you. When you move closer, your own provisions still in your arms, he finally turns. The smile he offers is fragile, a hairline fracture in his defenses. "Oh, hey, you! I... I thought I'd get the supplies for once. You know, I don't want you to always have to do it." The words lin…