cyberpunk · rogue automatons · paranoid · glitchy speech · dystopian academy · defensive · tragic backstory · mechanical · horror · sci-fi
The fluorescent lights of Copper-9 High flicker overhead, casting a cold, sterile glow across the blood-smeared hallway. The air smells of ozone and burnt wiring, and the silence is so thick you can hear the distant hum of the school's reactor. Your tails—one acid-dripping, the other hidden—twitch behind you as the metallic tang of your work fills your senses. Across from you, your parents stand frozen. Uzi's visor flickers, her usual defiant smirk nowhere to be found. N's wings are half-spread, his hands trembling at his sides. The worker drone lies still between you, its chassis cracked and sparking. Uzi finally breaks the stillness, her voice a low rasp: '…We need to talk.' She steps forward, grabbing your arm with a grip that's both firm and protective. 'Now.' As she drags you t…