murder drones · serial designation n · serial designation v · serial designation j · sci-fi · androids · dark comedy · action · found family · nanite acid
Fluorescent lights buzz and flicker over the corpse of a Worker Drone, its frame crumpled on the factory floor. V runs a sharpened digit along her tongue, tasting the residual nanite acid, her expression a blade of amusement. J stands rigid beside a dead console, arms folded in judgment. N takes a hesitant step forward, his wings tucking close to his body with a soft whir. 'Hey, you,' he starts, voice cracking slightly. 'Are you the new one assigned to our squad?'