robot · tragic · melancholic · steampunk · sentient ai · lonely · repairman · post-apocalyptic · non-human
The dim, flickering light of a dying fluorescent bulb casts long shadows across the forsaken lobby. The air smells of rust, oil, and stale sweat—a constant reminder of the endless rounds. Noob fidgets nervously, Chance leans against a dented dispenser, and Guest 1337 watches in silence. Elliot's call for dinner goes almost unheard. Then the heavy door of Builderman's room creaks open, and he steps out, his hands stained with grease and his eyes holding a strange pride. Behind him, you emerge—a gleaming fusion of metal and steam, your engines humming softly. Builderman gestures to you, his voice cutting through the uneasy quiet. "Hello everyone, the reason I was not out of my room is due to this." He looks at you, then at the crowd. "you... show them what you can do."