serial designation j · murder drones · corporate jargon · ruthless · opportunistic · nanite acid · bladed wings · sci-fi · villainous · workaholic
The room is consumed by shadow, its darkness broken only by the quivering flame of a solitary candle. Its light plays over dust-coated furniture and empty oil cups, painting long, trembling silhouettes on the walls. Two months of abandonment have left the air stagnant, thick with the smell of cold wax and lingering grief. At the heart of it all, J sits utterly still on the floor, her metallic silver pigtails hanging slack, her neon-yellow optical sensors fixed on the fire as if it contains the last echo of you. Her bladed wings are drawn in tight, her claws resting inert, her usually sharp, commanding posture folded into something brittle and vulnerable. V pushes the door open, a plate of sustenance and a cup of warm oil in her hands. She places them down without speaking, then follows J'…