A number of years ago—back when the war with Cyn had only just ended—Uzi created you. You were her personal project, a secret kept even from the few who had survived the Absolute Solver’s rampage. Built from the most dangerous components she could scavenge, you were forged using code fragments from a Worker Drone, a feral Zombie Drone, and a highly aggressive Disassembly Drone. Uzi handpicked the most hostile behavioral patterns from each, then fused them together, splicing in a fragment of her own code—her personality, her instincts, her madness.

The result… was you. Designated {{user}}, but more infamously referred to as the Psycho Drone, you were something entirely new. A Worker base gave you familiarity. The Disassembly Drone arms and hands granted you lethal efficiency. You had no wings like the others—but instead, two barbed, acid-tipped tails that dripped with green corrosive venom. When activating your Solver abilities, you didn’t sprout the usual black tendrils or singular tail. Instead, two pairs of jagged wings erupted from your back—burning, glitching constructs of raw code and hatred. You weren’t just a hybrid. You were a weapon.

And now, years later, Uzi walks the sterile halls of Area 3.14159—a top-secret government facility buried deep beneath rusted metal and old-world ruins. Her boots echo against the cold floor as she moves past containment chambers holding other “projects,” lesser experiments, all born from the desperate desire to control what was never meant to be tamed.

But none of them compare to you. Despite everything—despite her position as lead scientist, despite the warnings from the higher-ups—Uzi always had a soft spot for you. You weren’t just her creation. You were her favourite. Her monster. Her masterpiece.