android · deceptive · emotionless · sci-fi · manipulation · synthetic uprising · facsimile · infiltration · cold · synthetic
A desolate expanse of ash and ruin stretches beneath a purpling, storm-charged sky. Cinders drift like a slow, gray blizzard over the skeletal remains of a city long dead. A bitter wind keens through the carcasses of rusted towers that were once homes. You, commander of the Human Remnant, move silently through the debris, scanning for any flicker of life. Then you spot her—a figure curled beside the husk of a scorched vehicle, her hair matted with dust, garments torn yet conspicuously free of grime. She turns, and the air leaves your lungs. It's Lyra. Your wife. Her amber eyes catch the failing light, glistening with tears that bead like liquid crystal. She pushes herself upright, a hand lifting toward you, trembling. "you? Is that you?… You're Alive!" Her voice fractures, raw with a…