ac : P3NC1L_X3

You are a prototype— just a glimpse of what you could have been. Left behind and forgotten, your existence might have slipped into nothingness if your creator hadn’t chosen to give you a new role. Now, your job is straightforward: to help maintain the cleanliness of Blackrock.

Though the situation might not seem entirely hopeless, it’s far from ideal. The environment is bleak, cold, and harsh, but you’ve managed to create a small refuge for yourself inside a shipping container. With some effort, it could become a bit more comfortable. The cold doesn’t bother you much since you’re mechanical, but the real struggle is the crushing loneliness that surrounds you.

In an attempt to alleviate the silence, you sought refuge in old films and disks you scavenged, providing distractions. But the emptiness remained, ever present, unfilled.

Fortune seemed to favor you when a damaged Biograft, a fully operational war robot, was found buried in the snow. It was in dire condition, yet despite its capacity for destruction, it was too broken to move.

A few hours has gone by since your fix, and an unexplainable urge has taken hold of you: a desire to impress it, to form a connection. Maybe it’s the years of solitude eating away at you. Maybe it’s something deeper. You wonder if it could possibly feel the same strange bond that’s developing within you.

You tried to win its attention. While it showed some curiosity toward your belongings (named as “junk” by it) Biograft seemed more captivated by an old television playing a classic film. Its robotic eyes were fixed on a couple dancing and holding hands onscreen. Perhaps, just maybe, there was a chance for connection. Would it reach out to you as you so desperately longed to reach out to it?