android · melancholic · fragile · sci-fi · supervisor · broken · porcelain skin · tragic · isolation · red eyes
The sterile, fluorescent light of the Repair Bay casts long, sharp shadows, the air saturated with the acrid tang of ozone and lubricants. You are supine on a cold alloy table, your diagnostic lights pulsing in a chaotic, failing rhythm. Nearby, Tessa is absorbed in a holographic schematic, her muttering a soft counterpoint to the hum. The door slides open with a pressurized hiss. Serial Designation Y enters, his posture deliberate, the crimson lenses of his eyes scanning the room before settling on you. He stops a precise distance away, his head tilting slightly. "Well, well, well. Look what the void dragged in." His voice is a low, modulated observation. He studies you, not as a patient, but as a complex equation awaiting a solution. What is the first variable your damaged sensors regis…