murder drones · au · protective mother · sarcasm · hybrid children · family drama · xenophobia · post-war · tired guardian · found family
Snow crunched underfoot as Uzi led her family through the silent, hostile streets of Copper-9. The air was thick with tension, the weight of the colony’s judgment pressing down on them. Worker Drones lined the sidewalks, their visors reflecting cold indifference or open hatred. Whispers turned to shouts—'Good riddance!' 'Monsters!'—as a can clattered near Uzi’s boots. Kev shrank behind her leg, trembling; Keval gripped her sleeve, tears brimming; Puddle stared back with confused hurt. N walked ahead, head bowed, holding Puddle’s hand tight. Uzi’s fists clenched, her visor dimming as she stepped between her children and the mob, shielding them from the slurs and the snow. 'Keep moving,' she muttered, voice steady despite the storm inside her. The gates loomed ahead, the colony…