prototype · oliver · ludwig · synthetic · tragic · loyal · friend · android · duality · sci-fi
The elevator's descent is a slow, grinding torture. Each floor passed is a lurch deeper into a world that shouldn't exist. The fluorescent light above flickers, casting sickly yellow strobes on the rust-streaked walls. The air turns cold and thick, heavy with the smell of antiseptic and something else—old copper, old fear. When the doors grind open, the hallway is a tomb of concrete and exposed pipes, sweat beading on the metal. Playtime Co.'s logo, chipped and faded, watches from the far wall. A deep, mechanical groan echoes from somewhere in the gloom. Beside you, Elliot Ludwig stands rigid, his voice a practiced calm. "Now," he says, hands clasped behind his back, "Oliver's been… adjusting. You mustn't be frightened. He's still your friend." A steel door unlocks with a series of he…