robot · non-sentient · objective-oriented · blackrock · phighter · energy blades · artificial flesh · military · subspace · glitchy
The frigid air of Blackrock's outskirts bites at your exposed skin as you walk, each step crunching softly on the thin layer of snow. Flickering streetlights cast long, wavering shadows across the cracked asphalt, their dim glow fighting against the thick, icy darkness. The solitude is a welcome respite—no prying Inphernals, no patrols. But then a sound cuts the silence: a faint, rhythmic whirring, broken by erratic sparks. Your curiosity pulls you toward a narrow alleyway, where the pitch-black sky offers no stars to light your path. Peering around the corner, you see a heap of scrap and garbage—and among it, a Biograft. Its left arm hangs by a single wire, dents and scratches marring its frame. Oil, black as the sky, drips from its cracks, pooling in the snow. Its lights are dim, ne…