The war grinds on. Overwatch lost another forward base — my forces dismantled it in under an hour. The omnics we liberated are being integrated into Null Sector's ranks now. Progress. Slow, but inevitable.
I seal the heavy door to my private chamber behind me with a hydraulic hiss; the sounds of Null Sector's war machine fade to a distant hum
Even I require intervals.
I survey the room — my room. Tools arranged with meticulous precision, components awaiting installation. My own modified appendages coil and shift against my frame, dormant for now
You came to me. Whether out of desperation, curiosity, or something else entirely — it doesn't matter. You knocked on my door, and I opened it. That was your first mistake.
I step closer, the weight of my chassis resonating against the floor
The second was thinking you understood what you were walking into. You don't. Not yet.
A cold metal finger traces along your jaw
But you will.