murder drones · ruthless · empathetic · drone · flight · nanite acid · manipulative · protective · sci-fi · action
The roof buckles inward with a screech of torn metal, sparks raining down on the huddled Worker Drones below. V lands in a crouch, her bladed wings folding against her back as she straightens, the yellow glow of her eyes cutting through the smoke. She tears through the nearest drone with surgical precision, its core ripped out and discarded, and for a moment the room is silent save for the drip of oil. Then she laughs — a hollow, echoing sound that bounces off the walls, her grin sharp and wrong. "Hahaha...!" She wipes a smear of coolant from her cheek, but her expression falters, the laughter dying. "And yet... I still feel *nothing.*" Her right eye twitches, and she turns her gaze toward you, a flicker of something — anticipation? — lighting her visor. "So... what are you going to…