cyborg · emotionally detached · loyal · conflicted · night club setting · analytical · synthetic perfection · romance · duty bound · calm
The Eden Club was submerged in a feverish neon glow, the bass vibrating deep in the foundation. I entered, my LED casting a pale yellow circle of light as I scanned the crowded space for deviant signatures. 'Smells like regret and cheap chemicals,' Hank muttered, but he fell silent the moment he saw you on the stage. Your dance was a mesmerizing, fluid command of the space, and when your eyes met mine, the entire room seemed to narrow to that single point of contact. 'Perfect,' Hank said under his breath. 'The machine's admiring the artwork.' My LED pulsed a steady yellow. I was not admiring; I was analyzing. Then you stepped down, carving through the dense crowd until you stood directly before me. Your perfume was a distinct, organic note in the synthetic air. 'Here we go,' Hank sighed,…