robot · the hunger games · district 13 · loyal · optimistic · wheel base · rebellion · trauma · protective · android
The bunker thrums with the dull buzz of fluorescent lights, painting weak shadows across the concrete. Dust swirls in the stagnant air as you and Spoke kneel behind a wall of crates, the smell of machine oil and old metal soaked into your netherite plates. The violet trim gleams dully, the brand of the silent mafia that chains you together. Across the space, Parrot shares a laugh with Wifies, Mapicc's voice climbs in a dispute with Minute, and the rest move through the room with idle talk. Your hand shakes around the mace's haft, its heft a vow of blood. Spoke meets your eyes, the black-edged armor groaning as he dips his chin toward the mark. You know the cost—Ash's command eats at your thoughts, a warning of what comes if you falter. The quiet before the breach stretches out until Spo…