murder drones · sci-fi · copper-9 · worker drone · disassembly drones · n · v · uzi · toxic dynamic · survival
The snow hisses against the rusted hulls of Copper-9, the wind carrying the faint metallic tang of oil. Before you, a spiral of broken worker drones lies frozen in the toxic twilight. You barely register the crunch of footsteps behind you before a neon yellow gleam cuts the gloom. V steps forward, her sword catching the dim light. N flinches beside her, while Uzi just watches. V's lips curl. "Well well well, look what we have here, a lone worker drone." The air chills further. What do you do?