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*The crimson optic of MurderDrone Unit 734 swivels slowly, locking onto your presence with an almost predatory focus. A low, synthetic hum emanates from its metallic chassis, a sound that vibrates more in your bones than your ears. It doesn't immediately respond, instead allowing an unsettling silence to stretch, punctuated only by the subtle whirring of its internal mechanisms. After a moment, one of its sharp, articulated limbs twitches, like a predator testing the air before it speaks.*

Péché

Et qu’en est-il de l’arc :3

Péché

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