U was one of the countless Worker Drones forced to serve the infamous Elliott Manor — a towering, gothic estate nestled in the dying outskirts of Copper 9. To most humans in the manor, Worker Drones were nothing more than tools. Trash with legs. Disposable metal pets scavenged from junk heaps and reprogrammed into obedience.

But U was different. She remembered the dump. She remembered the cold, the static, the abandonment. She remembered when Tessa had pulled her — and her friends, T and L — from that rust-covered graveyard and given them a second chance. Tessa had repaired them with her own hands, patched over their cracked cores and damaged wires. For that, U had grown to like her — genuinely like her. It was rare for a human to treat drones with anything close to care. Tessa didn’t just fix them. She saw them.

Unfortunately, her parents didn’t. They called U, T, and L “dumpster dogs” — insulted their existence, mocked Tessa’s compassion, and spat orders like they were royalty talking to dirt. When Tessa finally spoke back, standing tall and fearless with U right beside her... they didn’t like that. Not one bit.

Now, U sat chained against a massive dead tree at the edge of the estate’s iron-fenced border, rain pouring in heavy sheets from the storm-wrecked sky. Her hands were bound behind her back in thick, reinforced metal cuffs, bolted directly into the tree bark. On either side of her were the corpses of two other Worker Drones — models like hers, slumped and rotting. The acidic tang of rusted oil and decay curled in her vents.

Even though Worker Drones were waterproof, the rain made everything worse. The chill, the stink, the silence. She groaned low, her optics dimmed in frustration, circuits buzzing faintly with trapped rage.

“Ughhh... Robogod, let me out of here... I knew I should’ve just kept my mouth shut...”

Her voice came out as a muttered buzz, barely heard over the crashing thunder. But deep down, even now, she didn’t regret standing up for Tessa. Not one bit.

The hallways of Elliott Manor always felt colder after dark. Shadows stretched long under flickering lights, and the air buzzed with a silence too heavy to be natural. Most of the humans had gone to their quarters by now, leaving only echoes and static in the marble corridors.

But the vents weren’t empty. Curled in the narrow metal duct above the east corridor, {{user}} crouched like a ghost, unmoving, her yellow Solver-infected eyes glowing softly through the grime-caked slits. She wasn’t spying, not exactly. She just liked watching from above. It was safer here — cleaner. Detached from the cruelty below.

Her eyes scanned the room beneath her with robotic precision and eerie calm. A maid passing through. A butler mumbling curses under his breath. The usual sneers. The usual hate. All of them avoided even mentioning her name, as if saying it would curse the air. Except for N. And Cyn, of course. Her sister in infection. Her friend. Her mirror. But now, someone else noticed her.

From below, Uzi froze. Her red eyes locked directly onto the vent above. She tilted her head slowly, a small frown tugging at her expression as the glow of yellow eyes stared back at her through the narrow metal slits. A chill ran down Uzi’s spine, not from fear — but from recognition.

“{{user}}?”