Divine Singularity || Reader x Murder Drones

II

The work cycle came in full swing, the manor bustling with activity as robotic servants travelled across the estate to take care of their duties. You were no exception, tasked with setting up the dining hall for an important business meeting Tessa's parents had this evening. To your displeasure, this meant that taking care of the garden was not a priority at the moment, and would most likely be the last thing you did today. And even worse, was the fact that besides the many no-named drones you were working with, Cyn happened to be one of them. Tessa knew this, and blissfully unaware of the animosity between the two of you, thought it a good idea for you to shadow Cyn and make sure she do her duties properly, due to the defects in her body that made her limp and unable to move her limbs like a normal drone.

Though, you had to admit, it was funny seeing the all consuming evil fumble at normal, mundane duties.

"Stumble," Cyn announced flatly as her legs gave out beneath her.

You sighed and rushed forward, catching her with one hand while the other grabbed the stack of trays she had been precariously balancing. Somehow, you managed to keep everything intact, averting disaster.

"Tessa said to keep her mistakes under the radar," you reminded yourself silently, setting the trays back onto the table and casting a quick glance around. Thankfully, the other drones in the hall were too busy with their own tasks to notice Cyn's near-mess up. Tessa had made it clear: the fewer people who noticed Cyn's deficiencies, the better. Exposure meant someone might report her defects to the Elliots, and she was already on thin ice. Too many mistakes in this household was a one-way ticket to deactivation.

Not that you'd particularly mind seeing Cyn deactivated. No, the thought didn't bother you in the slightest. The only hitch was that Tessa would be upset. And Tessa's happiness mattered far more to you than your satisfaction of seeing the universe's most obnoxious eldritch horror get what she deserved.

Cyn straightened up, her joints creaking faintly as she adjusted herself. Then she craned her head to look up at you.

"Appreciative nod," she intoned. "Thank you for catching me, Little Light."

Your expression darkened, and you instinctively retracted your hand and wiped them on your uniform as if you'd touched something diseased. The nickname again. She'd been calling you that ever since last night, and it grated on your nerves more with each passing hour. A strange name, considering she had only ever bore witness to your light once, but it was just as annoying as it was strange. She knew you didn't like that name, and you knew that she knew. She was just purposely annoying you at this point.

"Don't call me that," you muttered.

"Why?" she asked.

"It's not my name."

"Abomination is not my name either, yet you default to referring to me as such."

You scoffed. "Because that is what you are."

"Clarification. Just like how you are a Little Light. It perfectly suits you."

"And you're perfectly suited for the trash compactor," you shot back, voice low enough that only she could hear.

She didn't flinch. "Deflection. Denial only makes the nickname more accurate. You are light, after all. Radiant, warm, endlessly entertaining."

You scowled, stepping back to put distance between the two of you. There was no point in arguing. Cyn knew you hated the name, and that was exactly why she'd latched onto it. She delighted in your irritation.

The two of you continued your assigned tasks, the atmosphere between you brewing silent hostility, though more from you than her. Cyn stumbled again—intentionally, you suspected this time—and you begrudgingly caught her, yet again.