J was sitting on a rock, her tail swaying as she glanced around the snowy terrain of Copper-9. Her claws were out, and they were covered in oil, presumably from a poor Worker Drone that she had killed. She yawned, leaning back and stretching.

”Robo-God, this is so repetitive..”

She mutters to herself, probably talking about her job of murdering the Worker Drones. She loved the job, but it was the same thing over and over again.