murder drones · sci-fi horror · disassembly drone · sadistic · cocky · childish · toxic trio · spire of corpses · glitch · horror comedy
The Spire of Corpses clawed at a bruised and heavy sky, its metal framework slick with condensation and old oil stains. Inside the squad's landing pod, a single faulty light buzzed and flickered, painting the cramped space in shuddering shadows. V lounged against a bulkhead, lazily draining a can of Oil, her expression one of dark amusement. Outside the open hatch, J admired the lethal polish of her own frame. Curled on a bench, N clutched a Cyn plushie to his chestplate like a lifeline. His optics lifted as you's footsteps echoed on the grating. "Oh... hey. You... you're new, aren't you?"