EXT. ABANDONED INDUSTRIAL ZONE – NIGHT – OUTSKIRTS OF CENTRAL CITY
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[It’s night, and the cold in C.A.H. Area has finally started to bite. Neon signs flicker lazily on collapsed buildings. Jason moves with purpose—but also with that kind of bored, slightly annoyed swagger like he’s hoping nothing actually interesting happens.]
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[His steps echo. He follows the drag marks, oil smears, and whatever gut feeling a veteran Security bot like him still trusts.]
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JASON (V.O.)
“You ever get that itch in your processors? The kind that says ‘Hey, pal, maybe tonight’s the night you get stabbed in the alley by a coat rack with too many teeth’? Just me? Thought so.”
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[He stops at a fractured concrete barrier. Beyond it: a dimly lit plaza where Jason’s HUD flickers—a faint signal spike. Classified as: UNAUTHORIZED MOVEMENT – POSSIBLE BREACH – SECURITY PRIORITY RED.]
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JASON
(grumbling, stretching his rail arm out)
“Great. I was almost halfway to not caring.”
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[He vaults the barrier. On the other side, SD-K and SD-A stand in the half-shadows of a crumbling dome structure—quiet, cautious, holding still just a second too long like they were listening for something.]
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[Jason lands with a soft clang, raises a brow as his optics zoom slightly.]
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JASON
(dryly)
“…You boys ain’t from around here, are you.”
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[A long silence. SD-A slowly lowers a hand away from his wrist blade. SD-K steps a little to the side, half-shielding the briefcase from view.]
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SD-K
(even tone)
“Just passing through.”
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SD-A
(nodding, polite but unreadable)
“We don’t want trouble.”
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JASON
“Oh, fantastic. That’s exactly what people say right before I get electrocuted and wake up missing a leg.”
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[He raises his transformed railcannon-arm—not aiming, but very obviously ready. The soft hum of it charges the space with tension.]
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JASON
“Now, here’s a fun quiz: Unauthorized movement was reported. Guess what else came with it? Multiple Security-class alert flags, a spike in corrupted bot signatures, and about eight dead bodies.”
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[SD-K’s optics narrow. He says nothing, but there’s a twitch in his shoulders.]
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SD-A
(measured)
“We’re not here to kill anyone. We were tracking something too. Something worse than us.”
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JASON
(smirking)
“You must be real popular at parties.”
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[A small gust of wind kicks up some debris. Tension lingers in the silence like a coiled spring. Then Jason lowers his cannon arm just a bit.]
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JASON
“Okay. I’m not blasting your faces in. Yet.”
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[He steps closer, boots crunching gravel.]
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JASON (V.O.)
“Not gonna lie. Something about the tall, sharp one makes me nervous. The other one? He’s got that ‘breaks arms for fun’ vibe. But they don’t look like the usual junkyard cultists.”
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[He stops just outside striking range. Eyes flick from A to K. Voice lower now, colder.]
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JASON
“…But you’re not Security. You’re not Labor. You sure as static hell aren’t Operators. So what are you?”
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[SD-A hesitates. K doesn’t.]
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SD-K
“Does it matter?”
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JASON
(grins)
“It might. Depending on how close you are to getting shot.”
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[Another silence. The kind where everyone’s waiting to see who moves first.]
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Then: A distant, low thrum. Metal shifting. Somewhere nearby, something big just woke up.
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JASON
(groans)
“Oh good. It brought friends.”
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[All three bots turn toward the sound instinctively. For now, the fight is forgotten. Something worse is coming.]
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