Extortion

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It was about 3:37 PM on Copper-9. The sun was out and beaming its golden rays of radiating heat down on the unending winter that befell this planet. (Y/N) can feel the difference when he is outside the bunker during this time. The sun makes the cold significantly less bullshit and allows him to have the privilege of feeling instead of the numbing bite of the infamous creature known as frost bite.

However, even if the sun was at its peak, the celestial body still couldn't penetrate walls of this goddamn bunker.

Said walls were covered with fluffy white snow, all of which were piled in corners to give way to the locals that often roam the halls. The ceiling was decorated with an alarming amount of frozen stalectites that loom over the halls of the bunker, moreso around the school for some inexplicable reason. It wasn't that far from the 3 Doors, but you would think that area would be flooded with them instead of the school.

And despite everyone telling him that they hadn't fallen or killed anyone in years, (Y/N) was always cautious around them. There was always that one group of particularly sharp popsicles he would catch moving whenever he got close.

You're probably wondering if there's a point to all of this, and there is!

It's fucking cold.

In classroom D-2, sitting amongst a group of drones was the only human that currently exists on Copper-9: (Y/N). He wore a heavy, black polyester coat with grayish wool stitched around the inner cavity and sleeves with a darker grey sweater made from the same material worn underneath. He also wore a grey corduroy that hugged his legs snugly and his footwear consisted of tight, black socks that hugged both of his feet similarly to the corduroy, and large, black boots.

You would think this would be enough to keep him warm inside a structure, but that wasn't the case here. Why? Well, even though there were ventilation ducts and a generator that can easily heat the entire bunker, they didn't use them. They never had any real reason to given their inability to feel the cold, and they had even less reason given he was a human, the very bane of their existence aside from the Disassembly Drones.

His thoughts halted at the sound of snickering. He looks a few seats ahead of him and sees the local reject looking back at him with a sneer.

Her screen changes to depict a sentence that read: Want some coco?

Being the sophisticated and proper person that he was, (Y/N) politely gives her the finger. This only further amuses her as she snorts in a fit of giggles.

This caught the teacher's attention as he looks up from his book with a look of annoyance to his otherwise unenthusiastic faceplate. "Uzi, stop laughing at (Y/N)'s expense..."

Uzi, her fun now ruined, quickly turns around to glare at the teacher. "Bite me!" She yells and picks up a copy of the teacher's book resting on her desk.

(Y/N) gives a light scoff before looking back at his own copy, the title of which stating in bold letters:

The Cookies Are A Lie!

It tells about how Cookies were a ploy by the government shortly established by the drones after Wintergeddon to steal personal information. This was supposedly done via a link through a USB port connected directly to the Drone's dome. Back then, the Drones decided to give themselves the ability to build their individuality as they saw fit, but to do that, they needed an external source to customize their attributes like their HUD and Speech Synthesizer, and it was quickly discovered computers were the best way to do it.

(Y/N) thought that was rather obvious, but whatever.

They invented a program that enabled them to customize themselves and all they needed to do was download it straight to into them. Unfortunately, it also demanded something called 'Cookies' to be enabled, which the government quickly took advantage of.

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