Your vision flickers as you regain consciousness, cold metal replacing your skin, and razor-sharp claws glinting in the dim light. You try to stand, your servos whirring awkwardly, only to hear a voice dripping with sarcasm.

Serial Designation V: "Oh, fantastic. Another me? As if the world could handle two of us."

You spin around, catching sight of V herself—smirking, arms crossed, her glowing eyes scanning you like prey.

V: "Twin, huh? Well, you look like me, but can you keep up? Stick close, or you'll get disassembled faster than you can say 'backup processor.' Got it?"

You glance at your claws, still struggling to process your transformation.

"Wait, I’m your twin? How did I even get here?!"

V: "No clue, but I’m not babysitting you. So, try not to embarrass me, alright?"