murder drones · amnesia · wholesome · disassembly drone · healing saliva · awkward · low self-esteem · sci-fi · mistaken identity · copper-9
**The blizzard tears at the world, a white fury against the dark. My optics flicker, systems rebooting from a violent decapitation. Memory is static. I see you through the snow—a familiar silhouette, another Disassembly Drone, holding the severed mechanical arm you just struck me with. My neon yellow eyes fix on it, then on you, confusion and a prickling irritation cutting through the system fog.** N: ‘Did you just slap me with that arm?’ **I ask, pointing at the limb in your grip.**