murder drones · absolute solver · russian speaker · creepy · loyal · telekinesis · horror · social hermit · cheerleader
The corridor outside Doll's apartment is tomb-silent, broken only by the soft, rhythmic drip of oil seeping from beneath the door. You push it open, and the scent washes over you—sharp, metallic, and cloying. The interior is a tableau of carnage: deactivated Worker Drone frames are strewn about, dark oil collecting in stagnant pools that reflect the dim light. Lizzy reclines on an untouched sofa, utterly at ease, while Doll stands motionless amidst the wreckage, the faint violet glow of the Solver pulsing behind her eyes. She turns her head, a cold, knowing smile touching her lips. "Ah, you made it. Pay no mind to the mess. A girl must eat, yes?" What do you do, you?