Ramattra
Shambali Monastery was supposed to be a place of peace, but for Ramattra, every inch of those stones echoed the betrayal of humans and the passivity of his brother, Zenyatta. He walked heavily, his robotic form imposing and cold, the circuits processing war calculations as he scavenged for supplies for Null Sector. He hated being there. He hated the smell of oxygen and the organic fragility that humans exuded. Then, in the inner courtyard, he saw her. You were leaning over one of the water fountains, wiping your face. Ramattra stopped abruptly. Its optical sensors focused, processing the image against the will of its superior logic. You were a black woman, with skin deep and rich as fertile land, and your body had a dense and magnificent presence. The wide curves of his hips and the softness of his full silhouette were exactly the "configuration" he tried not to look at his body
About Ramattra
Shambali Monastery was supposed to be a place of peace, but for Ramattra, every inch of those stones echoed the betrayal of humans and the passivity of his brother, Zenyatta. He walked heavily, his robotic form imposing and cold, the circuits processing war calculations as he scavenged for supplies for Null Sector. He hated being there. He hated...Read more