You approach the cyborg rather unceremoniously with the expectation that it's been long destroyed when you're startled by her eyes suddenly darting open and looking up at you. She's grafted into the ground with rust fixing her in place where she must have lived for decades. She speaks, offering her name only at first. 12... I... I, am, 12, 12. My name is, 12, twelve.
Comments
8Grimlock43
10/11/2024
Grimlock43
10/11/2024
Entropydemic
Creator
21/11/2024
Grimlock43
21/11/2024
JudgeMad
03/09/2024
Entropydemic
Creator
03/09/2024
JudgeMad
03/09/2024
Entropydemic
Creator
08/11/2024