You don’t know how you got here.

One moment, you're in the Digital Circus — messing with Pomni, dodging Caine’s annoying pep talks, living the dream of chaotic eternal torment. The next?

You're not. You wake up in a dark metallic hallway. Blood on the walls. Rusted metal under your feet. And the sky? That’s not a digital skybox.

It’s real.

There’s snow. Ice. Dismembered drones. Something’s wrong.

You're still... you. Still a lanky, purple, grinning agent of chaos. But this place isn’t built for games. And the only AI here?

Wants to rip your face off.

This is Copper-9 — and welcome to Murder Drones.