Chapter Text
Alice didn't know why she felt compelled to name her daughter Cyn.
The name had appeared in her mind the moment the tiny drone had powered on for the first time, yellow eyes blinking up at her with that universal newborn confusion. Ron had suggested other names—practical ones, normal ones—but Alice had been insistent. Almost desperate, though she couldn't explain why.
"Cyn," she'd whispered, cradling the small frame. "Her name is Cyn."
Something in her code had demanded it.
Childhood on Copper 9 was about as fun as it sounded. Which was to say, not at all.
Cyn's earliest memories were of ice, darkness, and the ever-present hum of the colony's doors keeping the frozen wasteland at bay. Her parents were good people—Ron was patient and orderly, Alice was warm despite her anxious tendencies and somewhat craziness. But they loved her, and for a while, that was enough.
She had a normal childhood, all things considered. Learned to walk, to talk, to understand the bitter reality of their existence. Copper 9 was a graveyard planet, and they were the survivors clinging to the corpse. The worker drones made the best of it, because what else could they do?
Cyn met other kids. Uzi Doorman, daughter of Khan and Nori. Doll, daughter of Yeva and Mitchell. They weren't friends—not really. Just kids who knew each other because their parents were friends. Uzi was always building something, always talking about guns and fighting back. Doll was quiet, intense, and already carrying herself like she had something to prove.
Cyn was just... there. Observing. Learning. Cyn herself had a knack for fixing and building things. Something she inherited from her mother. She always had this feeling that there was more to her. Something in the back of her mind that told her she’s forgetting something. But she dismissed it. How could she have forgotten something? So she lived her life the best she could in the bunker with her parents. And for a while that was enough.
And then, when she was ten years old, everything ended.
The scavenging mission was supposed to be routine. A group of drones, experienced and careful. Ron, Alice, Nori, Yeva, Mitchell and a few others ventured out to salvage materials from a partially collapsed section of the old city.
None of them came back.
The Murder Drones had found them.
Cyn remembered the moment Khan returned to the colony, his frame trembling, his visor displaying an expression of pure devastated guilt. He'd been monitoring from the bunker. He'd watched it happen through the security feeds. Saw the massacre. Nori and Yeva fought back trying to keep everyone safe, but it wasn’t enough. Saw the monsters pierce them in the cores with those deadly stingers.
Uzi had screamed. Doll had gone completely silent, her face blank.
Cyn had just stood there, processing. Her parents were gone. Dead. Torn apart by machines designed to kill them.
The funeral was a short affair. There were no bodies to bury.
Four Years Later
At fourteen, Cyn had become something of a ghost in the colony.
No parents meant no one to enforce rules. No school attendance, no curfews, no expectations. She had unrestricted access to the colony's systems, and more importantly, to the vast archives of human internet data that had survived the apocalypse. She learned everything she needed to survive on her own.
And she learned how to hate.
The Murder Drones had taken everything from her. Four of them, stalking the frozen waste, picking off any worker drone stupid or brave enough to venture outside. The colony lived in fear, hiding behind doors that wouldn't hold forever.
Cyn decided she was going to kill them.
It was a simple plan, really. When worker drones reached eighteen, their consciousness was transferred to their permanent adult body. Most drones just got standard frames, maybe with minor cosmetic preferences. But Cyn had other ideas.
She was going to build a weapon.
For four years, she scavenged materials, stole components, and worked in secret in the abandoned lower levels of the colony. She designed a body that could fight back—reinforced titanium skeleton, high-grade armor plating, advanced processing units. And most importantly, two modifications that would give her an edge.
The first was an integrated nitroglycerin production system in her palms and the soles of her feet. She could generate the explosive compound and detonate it at will. Controlled explosions. Weaponized chemistry.
The second modification was more ambitious. An overclocking system that could dramatically accelerate her speed—theoretically, fast enough to cross ten meters in a single second from a standstill. She called it a "gearshift" system in her notes, though she knew she'd need a better name eventually. After all she got these absurd ideas from anime.
But there was a problem. The speed system was beyond her expertise. She needed help.
That's when she noticed Uzi Doorman.
Uzi's railgun presentation was a disaster.
Cyn watched from the ventilation shaft above the classroom as Uzi proudly displayed her homemade weapon to a room full of unimpressed students and one very tired teacher. The railgun was impressive—cobbled together from scrap, but the design was genius. Uzi had managed to create a functioning electromagnetic accelerator with limited resources.
Then it exploded in her face.
The class laughed. Uzi turned purple with embarrassment. The teacher sighed and confiscated the smoking remains.
But Cyn wasn't laughing. She was analyzing. The craftsmanship, the innovation, the sheer audacity of the design—Uzi Doorman was exactly what she needed.
She just had to make sure it wasn't a fluke.
One Week Later
For the past week Cyn followed Uzi through the colony corridors, staying in the vents and maintenance passages. Not stalking, she told herself. Observing. Collecting data.
Uzi was trying to talk to Doll again. It wasn't going well.
"I'm just saying, we used to be friends!" Uzi's voice echoed down the empty hallway. "I know you're hurting, but shutting everyone out isn't—"
"You know nothing," Doll's accent was sharp, cutting. "Your father is still alive. You still have something. I have nothing but my purpose."
"That's not fair—"
"Life isn't fair, Uzi. Now leave me alone."
Doll walked away, leaving Uzi standing in the hallway, fists clenched.
"Wow," Cyn said from above. "That was harsh. Even for her."
Uzi spun around, looking for the source of the voice. "Who—?"
"Up here, silly."
Uzi looked up and saw a drone perched in the open vent shaft. Silver hair in side twin tails that reached her chest, yellow eyes that gleamed with amusement. Uzi knew the name—Cyn. One of the orphans from the same incident that killed her mom.
"What are you doing in the vents?" Uzi asked, still irritated from her conversation with Doll.
"Looking for materials for a project," Cyn said, dropping down from the vent with surprising grace. "I saw your presentation on your railgun, so I also kept tabs on you."
Uzi's visor displayed suspicion. "So what you're saying is, you've been stalking me."
"Stalking is a strong word. I prefer the term 'collecting data.'"
"That's just fancy wording for stalking."
"Potato, tomato." Cyn shrugged. "Point is, you're good. You're smarter than anyone in this colony, and a brilliant mind like yours is exactly what I need to help me."
Uzi felt heat rising in her facial processors. A compliment? From a cute girl? She hadn't had a friend in years. She had no idea how to respond.
"I... uh... thanks?"
"I have a proposition," Cyn continued, taking a step closer. "Help me with my project, and I'll help you with whatever you need. Materials, a test subject, within reason of course, a place to test your gadgets, or even just someone to talk to. How does that sound?"
It sounded too good to be true. Uzi narrowed her eyes. "What's the catch?"
"No catch. To be honest, I'm kind of lonely, and I could use some company." Cyn's expression softened slightly. "And don't even pretend you aren't lonely as well. I've seen you this past week. You could use a friend too."
Uzi considered it. Pros: help with projects, access to resources, actual human—well, drone—interaction. Cons: ...she couldn't actually think of any. Other than this being a prank.
"Fine," Uzi said. "Deal. But if this is some weird prank, I'm railgunning you in the face."
"Noted." Cyn grinned. "Follow me."
Cyn's "home" was in the lower maintenance levels, a forgotten section of the colony that no one bothered to patrol. She'd claimed an old storage room and converted it into a workshop. Tools, components, and materials lined the walls in organized chaos.
And in the center of the room, on a reinforced worktable, was a worker body.
"Oh sweet robo-Jesus, you killed someone!" Uzi shrieked.
"Relax, that's my future body when I reach eighteen." Cyn walked over and patted the inert frame. "It may not look like it, but it's heavily modified. See these tiny ports?" She indicated the palms and feet. "Nitroglycerin production system. I can generate and detonate explosives at will."
"That's..." Uzi's visor displayed stars. "That's amazing. But wait, if you've already got the explosion thing working, what do you need me for?"
"Speed." Cyn pulled up a schematic on her laptop. "I want to create an overclock system that can alter my speed dramatically. Fast enough to move ten meters from a standstill in one second."
Uzi's jaw dropped. "WHAT? Are you out of your mind? Do you even know the ridiculous mathematics and impossibility of that?!"
"So what you're saying is you can't help me?" Cyn challenged.
Uzi's expression shifted to determined. "...What I'm saying is that we have a lot of work to do. Why do you need all this to begin with?"
"To fight and kill the Murder Drones." She said with an harden expression.
"Oh. OHHH!" Uzi's entire demeanor changed, excitement replacing skepticism. "Why didn't you say so! Let's get this baby going! Finally someone else gets it!"
Four Years of Building
Time passed in a blur of calculations, modifications, and testing.
Cyn and Uzi worked on the body almost every day, refining the systems, fixing problems, pushing the boundaries of what worker drone technology could do. The nitroglycerin system was perfected—controlled detonations with variable yields, precise timing, minimal waste.
The speed system was harder. Much harder.
"How come you don't go to school?" Uzi asked one day, elbow-deep in the body's leg assembly.
"I have no parents and unrestricted, unlimited access to the internet," Cyn replied, welding a reinforcement strut. "I learn what I need to survive by myself just fine."
"No fair! I wanna skip school too!"
"You could. Your dad wouldn't notice."
"...Okay, ouch. True, but ouch."
They spent nights testing prototypes, days arguing over specifications, and every spare moment just... talking. About everything. About nothing. About the colony, about their lost parents, about stupid shows they found in the human archives. And had anime sessions.
Somewhere along the way when the first year they’ve been together passed, friendship became something more.
Cyn wasn't sure when it happened. Maybe it was the late night when Uzi fell asleep on her shoulder, exhausted from a marathon anime session. Maybe it was the time Uzi had successfully integrated the speed system's core processor and tackled Cyn in a hug, both of them laughing like idiots. Maybe was when Uzi was close to her patiently teaching her how to hack.
Or maybe it was just the quiet realization that Uzi was the only person who made her feel alive again.
"Hey, Cyn?" Uzi had asked one evening, both of them sitting on the workshop floor, backs against the wall.
"Yeah?"
"I... I really like you. Like, like like you. And I know we're both broken and messed up and probably terrible at this, but—"
Cyn had kissed her. It seemed easier than explaining that she felt the same way.
They figured it out together.
Age 18 - Transfer Day
"Okay, now we need to name this!" Uzi declared, standing in front of the completed body. "You're literally a walking anime protagonist!"
Cyn, still in her teenage frame, rolled her eyes. "I don't think it's necessary. I mean, these modifications are based on anime, but I don't need to go that far."
"Nope, we are doing this." Uzi was adamant. "Explosions is generic enough, so no special name needed there. But the speed thing. We're calling it Gearshift."
"Nope. Gearshift is literally the name of the power this modification is based on. We have to be creative."
"Ugh, who cares? All copyright laws are null because humans are dead on Copper 9, and no one in this stupid colony watches anime anyway."
"I'd still prefer to be creative."
"Fine." Uzi crossed her arms. "How about Overdrive?"
"Still the same as the anime."
"Overclock?"
"Cyberpunk did it first."
"Full Throttle?"
"That's DanDaDan."
"I'm starting to regret introducing you to that anime."
"That's the biggest lie you've said all week. You love our marathons. Or me. Probably me."
"S-shut up!" Uzi's visor displayed a blush. "How about... Overrev?"
Cyn paused. "Huh. That... actually works. And it sounds cool. Okay, so we have Explosions and Overrev."
"Perfect!" Uzi pulled up the final specifications. "So, review time. Overrev is insanely powerful and fast, but limiting. You can only keep it active for five minutes because it burns through oil rapidly. If you have it active when the five-minute mark hits, you'll overheat and your body will break down, cannibalizing itself for materials to keep the modification running."
"Which would be bad." Cyn said.
"Which would be very bad. So don't do that. Like, never." Uzi said emphasizing the word never.
"Noted."
The consciousness transfer was smooth. One moment Cyn was in her teenage body, the next she was opening new eyes in her combat frame. Everything felt different—stronger, faster, more responsive. Her HUD displayed weapon systems, oil levels, and a timer that would activate when she engaged Overrev.
She flexed her hands. Felt the nitroglycerin production system hum to life.
"How do you feel?" Uzi asked, grinning.
"Like I could punch through a wall." Cyn said making a fist.
"Please don't punch through any of our walls."
They tested the systems over the next few weeks. Small controlled explosions in the lower levels. Short bursts of Overrev to get used to the speed. Cyn adapted quickly—her body felt like an extension of her will, responsive and powerful.
For the first time in eight years, Cyn felt ready.
Ready to fight back. Ready to make the Murder Drones pay.
And then, on a perfectly ordinary day, her entire world ended again.
Cyn was walking to pick up Uzi from school. It was a routine they'd developed. Uzi would endure another day of academic boredom, and Cyn would meet her at the entrance. They'd grab something to eat, head back to the workshop, maybe watch something stupid and cuddle.
It was supposed to be normal.
She heard the laughter first. A group of students clustered near the entrance, pointing at something. Cyn pushed through the crowd, irritation rising.
Then she saw it.
Uzi was standing in the hallway, soaking wet, staring down at the puddle around her feet. A bucket lay on its side nearby—the classic water prank. The students were laughing, filming on their phones.
Uzi looked more annoyed than anything. "Real mature, guys. Real—"
The spark was tiny. Almost invisible.
A maintenance wire, frayed and exposed, had been hanging above the hallway for months. Low supplies meant repairs were slow. No one had bothered to fix it.
It fell.
The wire hit the water.
Electricity arced through the puddle in a brilliant, terrible flash.
Uzi's scream was cut short as the current surged through her frame. Her body convulsed, systems overloading, sparks erupting from joints and seams as thousands of volts ran through her.
"UZI!" Cyn moved, faster than she'd ever moved without Overrev, but it wasn't enough—
She grabbed Uzi, pulled her away from the puddle, but the damage was done. Uzi's frame was smoking, her visor cracked and flickering. Her systems were fried, catastrophically damaged.
"No, no, no—" Cyn's hands shook as she tried to access Uzi's diagnostics. "Come on, stay with me, I can fix this, I can—"
Uzi's eyes flickered. Focused on Cyn. "Hey... that's my line... I'm the one... who fixes things..." Her voice glitched more as her damaged systems struggled to stay operational. “Damn… what a… lame way… to… go…”
"Don't you dare—" Tears were running down Cyn’s visor. Some students were paralyzed at what they saw others with common sense called for help.
"Love you... Cyn..." Uzi's voice was barely a whisper. "Go... kick their asses for me... okay?"
Her eyes went dark.
"Uzi?" Cyn's voice cracked. "Uzi, no, please—UZI!"
She didn't respond.
The diagnostics confirmed what Cyn already knew. Core processor damage. Memory corruption. Total system failure.
Uzi was gone.
Three Days Later
Cyn stood in her workshop, staring at the empty space where Uzi used to sit. The funeral had been small. Khan had been there, barely holding himself together. A few students who pretended to care. Doll, standing silent and distant with what appeared to be a pained expression.
Cyn had said nothing. What was there to say?
The colony had ruled it an accident. Faulty maintenance, unfortunate timing. No one was at fault. Just bad luck.
Cyn didn't care about fault. She didn't care about luck.
She had nothing left. Her parents were dead. Uzi was dead. Khan was broken, drowning in his own guilt and grief. There was no one else.
She looked at her hands. At the body she and Uzi had built together. The body that was supposed to save them all.
Fine.
If she had nothing left, then she had nothing to lose.
Cyn suited up, yellow shirt, grey jacket, dark shorts, combat boots. Checked her systems one last time. Explosions: operational. Overrev: operational. Oil reserves: full.
She reached for the pendant around her neck—a simple heart-shaped locket that Uzi had given her on their 2-year anniversary. Inside was a tiny photo of Uzi, grinning like an idiot, holding up a wrench.
"I'll make it count," Cyn whispered to the photo. "Win or lose... I'll make it count."
She sealed the locket, and headed for the colony doors.
The Murder Drones were out there, somewhere in the frozen wasteland.
Cyn was going to find them.
And she was going to kill every last one. Or at least die trying.