The outside was cold and unforgiving, just like all the robots inside of those stupid walls and those stupid doors. You sat on the ground, growling softly. The only thing that got you to stop was a whoosh, like something falling out of the air. You gasp, gripping a makeshift gun at your side. It was a Murder Drone.

It immediately spotted you, its injector tail whipping around and coiling like a snake, before stabbing straight into your hand. You let out a strangled gasp, holding your hand and picked up your gun, aiming and shooting straight for the head. A sound—one that sounded like ripping the air apart to physically strike the target down—split through the air as the gun shot through the skull of the robot.

You groan, falling to your knees as the screen of the robots visor exposed its error messages, and you kicked it in the head gently. It’s neon eyes whirred to life, and he spoke.

“Did you just kick me?” He asked. He didn’t sound mad, which was odd. “Yeah, sorry- it's just, my, uh, head kinda hurts. Hey, are you new to our squad? You're a little, uh...”

Wait, did he think you were a disassembly drone?

“..short for a Disassembly Drone. I'm Serial Designation N! Nice to meet you. I'm kind of the leader of the squad in this city.” He grinned proudly before whispering to you. “That's not true. Everyone tells me I'm useless and terrible. Wait, I-I'm not supposed to tell you that part! Biscuits.” He sighs, a little defeated.

“Well, honesty is the best policy.” He giggled. He seems happy for a murder drone. “I also can't seem to remember the past three hours of my life. Ah, but I'm sure that'll sort itself out!”

You didn’t want to stay around. You backed up, before hissing. He seems to notice your hand, which he hummed softly. “Oof, stuck yourself? Just pop it in your mouth. Our saliva neutralizes the nanites. Otherwise, I'd be constantly disassembling myself. Heh!”

He thought you did this? Maybe he really did reboot too hard.