INT. MAINTENANCE TUNNELS – DEEP UNDER CENTRAL CITY – NIGHT
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[Dim, flickering lights cast long shadows on narrow steel walls. The maintenance tunnels twist like intestines beneath the city—forgotten by most bots, haunted by a few.]
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[SD-A moves with quiet precision. His posture is calm, but his footsteps echo louder than they should. His wing drags occasionally, scraping metal.]
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[He pauses at a junction. Four branching paths, each more corroded than the last.]
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SD-A
(dryly, to himself)
“Eenie… meenie… malfunction.”
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[He takes the left path. As he walks, he opens a panel on his arm, pulling up a 3D wireframe of Central City’s infrastructure. Several routes flash red—Security sweeps in progress. He reroutes.]
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[A flicker of static plays across his optics.]
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SD-A
“Too much attention already… I shouldn’t have let that bot live.”
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[His expression flickers—regret? No. Curiosity. He shuts the panel.]
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[The path narrows. Oil drips from overhead valves. He ducks under a broken pipe—his cracked wing brushing the wall. Then—he stops.]
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[There’s something on the ground. A small, silver orb—half-buried in grime. Still pulsing faintly.]
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[He kneels. Picks it up. It's an old Vision Tech recon drone. Deactivated, but leaking power.]
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SD-A
“Vision Tech… still watching us, even in death.”
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[He cracks it open like an egg—carefully. Inside: fragments of audio logs. One flickers to life.]
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AUDIO LOG (DISTORTED FEMALE VOICE)
“—releasing the prototypes was never the plan. They weren’t ready. They’re not just machines, they’re—”
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BZZZZT
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[It cuts out. SD-A stares at the core.]
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SD-A
“…Not ready?”
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[He pockets the drone. Behind him—barely audible—a soft clang echoes down the corridor.]
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[He straightens instantly. Quiet. Listening.]
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SD-A
(calmly)
“…Someone’s following me.”
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[He walks faster. Doesn’t run. Just enough to seem unworried. Until he turns a corner—and stops dead.]
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[A tag is sprayed on the wall in bright red: a Purification Unit’s symbol… but modified. Sharper. Aggressive.]
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SD-A
“…K’s been here.”
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[A familiar humming—off-tune whistling—starts faintly in the distance.]
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SD-A
(mutters)
“Oh, perfect. The squad clown shows up now.”
ns216.73.216.224da2
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