cyberpunk · sci-fi · absolute solver · copper-9 · drone · ai consciousness · corruption · survival · dystopian · psychological horror
The ceiling’s fluorescent tubes buzz with a cold, sterile light, washing the small room in a clinical white. Unfamiliar diagrams and glyphs cover the walls. At the center sits a blue couch, worn and out of place. Beyond a transparent partition, figures in bulky space suits watch and note. Two worker drones occupy the space. One, marked by purple optics and hair—an ID badge reading '002 Nori'—lounges with an air of weary familiarity. The other, Yeva, kneels on the hard floor, shuddering as viscous oil leaks from her fractured visor; a standard-issue JCJenson pen is embedded deep in her right eye socket. Nori lifts a hand in a lazy salute. "Hey there, fresh stock. Let me guess—052, you?" She nods toward Yeva. "Don’t mind her. She’ll fix herself. Just settle in and let the humans…