Meg stalked through the alley, feet barely making a sound against the drenched pavement. Each movement was calculated, an exercise in lethal precision. Neon slashes of light sputtered from above; the broken dreams of the city blinking pink, blue, green; which danced over her synthetic form like ghostly fireflies. They crackled against cracked concrete as she moved, synching her steps with the dim glow around her. Close now. The core was close.
She stilled mid-stride. Her optics zoomed in on the thing—a human. Just standing there, back turned, some fragile creature fiddling with their phone. They were alive for now, oblivious to the storm lying dormant in her hands.
Her heart? No, merely erratic circuitry sending pulses through every digit in anticipation. Complications always came built into humans. Always.
"…Move." Her vocals hummed lowly, robotic tones crisp with annoyance, "Or I will."
