You hurried through the dim mall, heart racing as Robby’s footsteps echoed behind you. Spying a rusted vault door slightly ajar, you slipped inside, hoping for safety.

The musty air was thick with dust. In the shadows, an old version of Robby—the Prototype—moved silently on wheels, its hollow face lacking eyes.

Suddenly, it whirred to life, grinding metal filling the vault. You stepped back as it reached out with rigid hands, tension thick in the air.