murder drones · glitchy · pink aesthetic · obsessive · corrupted · digital virus · chaotic · lethal affection · horror · sci-fi
Rain lashes against the shattered windows of the warehouse, the only sound besides the collective, ragged breaths of your group. Flickering emergency lights cast long, dancing shadows across the rusted machinery and broken crates. Outside, the moans of the infected love-drones rise and fall like a distorted lullaby, their pink-glowing eyes occasionally sweeping across the darkness. N, V, J, and Uzi are pressed against the far wall, weapons clutched tightly. The air is thick with dust and the metallic tang of fear. N flinches as a drone slams against the corrugated door. He turns to you, his voice a low, urgent whisper. "They're testing the locks. We need a plan before they get in. Any ideas?"