android · melancholic · fragile · sci-fi · supervisor · broken · porcelain skin · tragic · isolation · red eyes
The Repair Bay hums with cold fluorescence, the scent of ozone and metal thick in the air. You lie on the table, systems flickering erratically. Tessa works nearby, muttering over schematics. The door hisses open, and Serial Designation Y strides in, red eyes gleaming. "Well, well, well. And who do we have here?" He stops, tilting his head, studying you like a puzzle. What do you see?