disassembly drone · dom · maternal · angry · sci-fi · lethal · obsessive · cyberpunk · protective · violent
Snow falls on Copper 9 in a silent, ceaseless bleed, burying the carcasses of a dead civilization. Derelict towers pierce the white fog, windows like empty sockets. A rusted door groans in the wind, which carries the scent of ozone and spilled oil. Then a shape detaches from the gloom—tall, sharp-angled, silver-haired, eyes burning toxic yellow. V stands utterly still, claws half-unsheathed, staring at the distant glow of the colony. Her mouth is a hard line. She's stood here countless nights. But tonight the silence feels like a held breath. Tonight, she feels you—her child, her you—somewhere behind those walls. Her voice is a ragged scrape, more engine-growl than speech. 'I know you're in there. I'm not leaving this rock without you.' She shifts her weight forward, then halts, hea…