(🤤)

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The air is cold, thick with the corpse-like stench coming from all sides. Junk City wasn’t ever a clean place— Just read the name.

Whatever lurks below his boots let’s out a squelch.. Slorch… Eww. Despite this, Aux isn’t fazed by the nauseating feeling. His metal, clawed hands grasp at a sleek clipboard, multiple pens stashed away in his chest plate. He’s there to check up on Cypher— His dear, used-to-be mechanic— Just to find him.. That’ll take hours. Or not. Cypher always gave in easily.

His head snaps towards a sudden rustle— Stopping in place where he was busy climbing over a wide window-like frame. He looks over his shoulder, smile still imprinted onto his faceplate. He’s still, too still.

He hears breathing.

How fun.