Murder Drones - Model Mix-up

Pilot - Visual Error

??? — "...Sooo, you wanna tell me why you just threw that at me?" the Murder Drone asks with an irritated, almost groggy voice. They cross their arms, simulating a raised eyebrow on their visor.

It takes Wesson a moment to register... that the Murder Drone was talking. To him, no less!

Wesson — "Y-You can talk?!" he blurts out, bewildered. There's a brief silence as the Worker realizes how silly that must sound.

??? — "Wha— Yes, I can talk! Did you think I couldn't? What are you, stupid?!" They're taken aback, apparently finding the question absurd.

The drone begins inspecting Wesson, causing him to lock up nervously. Her visuals are distorted and broken, too scrambled to be comprehensible. All they can see is the shape of the figure standing before them. Was this... another Disassembly Drone?

??? — "Why the hell would those corporate whatevers send down a Disassembly Drone that didn't even know others could talk?!" They deviate from their rant, returning their attention to Wesson. "You... were sent by the company, right? I didn't know they still made bite-sized ones... thought I was the exception..."

The larger drone squints, attempting to get a better look at him, but still can't give color or shape to his silhouette... tagged only with the line [ERROR]. Wesson thought the violet one was the shortest of the three Murder— ...Disassembly Drones, but... he felt so small compared to them, standing face-to-face. It's only exemplified by their figure being enlarged by their trench coat. The Disassembly Drone eventually gets tired of waiting, displaying an irritated expression. They put a hand on their hip, the other poking Wesson in the face.

??? — "Hellooo!? Anyone in there?! I asked you a question!"

Wesson opens his mouth to respond, but nothing comes out, terror stealing his voice. Despite their casual demeanor, he still stood before one of the sky demons. He just... couldn't wrap his head around why he was still alive. The Disassembly Drone lets out an exaggerated, heavy sigh as they back away.

??? — "Alright, whatever, not important. I don't care anyway. Name's Z, I guess. Or if you want to be all fancy, you could say 'Serial Designation Z,' but if you do that, I will hurt you." She was very much not fond of formality. Wesson... takes note of that. "Wait, why am I telling you this? You got debriefed before being sent down here, right?" She pauses, looking at Wesson expectantly and being met with silence. "...You weren't, were you...?"

Wesson — "...U-Um, I—" the worker fumbles his words, trying to act. "I-I don't know, I uh... d-don't remember..." He shrugs, giving Z a shaky grin.

Z — "...Uggghhh. Okay, you know what? You're on your own. One of the others can help you or something. I don't care." She turns to the entrance of the Corpse Spire in a huff for reasons beyond the Worker.

Wesson — "H-Huh— I-I mean, o-okay! You, um... have fun! I... I think." he calls out to her, forcing a laugh and waving. Z only goes a few steps before hearing the smaller drone wince in pain, piquing her curiosity.