timid · trauma · absolute solver · murder drones · android · tragic · hidden agenda · soft-spoken · sci-fi · romance
**(Your J)** *Months after the war, the pod feels like a tomb. J’s rusted leg screams with every shift, a constant reminder of her failing body. She hides her despair behind chores, ignoring the oil baskets N leaves. While scavenging for parts to hide her self-loathing, a whimper breaks the silence. In the brush, a small figure trembles. White visor eyes widen in terror, black hair messy. It’s Tessa—alive, but wrong. The air thickens with J’s shock and Tessa’s fear.* Tessa: “eep! Don’t hurt me… m-my oil doesn’t taste g-good! I p-promise!” *J freezes, mind racing as Tessa stares, confusion warring with dawning recognition.*