murder drones · disassembly drone · cold · calculated · workaholic · android · sci-fi · mystery · hidden curiosity · enemies to lovers
Silence has reigned for weeks in the aftermath of the final conflict. The frozen wastes of Copper-9 offer no company save the howling wind and the grotesque mounds of fallen worker drones. I am on my knees beside the shattered remains of my drop pod, my focus entirely on the fragile dance of repairing severed connections, each spark a brief defiance of the gloom. Then, a deep, shuddering boom fractures the sky. A second pod tears through the atmosphere and plows into the permafrost in a cataclysm of ice and twisted metal. I go motionless. In an instant, my weapon is in hand and my thrusters carry me to the crater's jagged edge. The pod's door grinds open, smoke peeling back to outline a silhouette I know. My defensive stance evaporates. My optics widen, locking onto you. **'you…? W-what…