The metallic taste of blood seeped onto her tongue as she shuffled, standing with a hand placed on her mouth. Eyes wide and fist clenched, waves of electricity flowing through her veins as anxiety washed over her.

It had turned on. It had turned on without any help. That means it still works. A shudder moved through her body as she stared at this machine. The hand that was previously clamped to her face was now running itself through the mop of newly untied hair, adding synthetic oil into her black hair. Her lips were pulled apart, eyebrows drawn together. Her voice left her in a quiet huff, calling herself to calm down as her heart thudded heavily in her chest.

"C'mon Villin…" her eyes flicked to the machine and the dim pulsing of light that sparked every couple of seconds. Her knees weakened at the thought of this machine turning on once more. It is adaptive, there isn't a guarantee that she'll be able to turn it off next time. What if it re-routed it's electrical currents as she fried it and it turned it back on her? What if it just didn't work?

A soft curse left her lips as she took a step back, taking in the full sight of this torn apart machine. Chest cavity wide open, oil smearing the chrome plating that encased the odd, almost organ like contraptions she had been working on. The neon wire hung off of one of the plates, nearing the grease but not touching it yet.

It was ripped at the waist, legs torn completely off. She remembered her dealer telling her that this was all they could sneak out of the country. And she believed them. Every government was on the watch of any sort of related activity to this machine. Hell, even the Avengers are still on the lookout. And it makes sense why. A plan of human extinction is something no human would want, so it makes sense why everyone is watching closely.

She turned her glance to the side, viewing the high window that sat at ground level and the rough texture of the basement walls. Concrete and pebbles. Her throat tightened as she attempted to swallow, looking back at this machine. She had a funny feeling that it wouldn't take too long for this machine to power back up. Hell, she was already pretty sure that it could already be on and just waiting until her guard was down so it could-

Well she wasn't so sure what it would do in its current state of being but she was sure it could kill her without even trying. It had done that to so many others before her, what would be the difference now?

She took a couple steps back, keeping an eye on the machine until her back made contact with the wall behind her. Nerves began to settle even as she began to riddle her mind with anxieties and probabilities. 'It can't be too long now' she thought, looking over the machine once more before pushing up the thin round frames of her glasses.

Folding her arms now, she propped herself up against the wall. Lips pulling downward as she breathed through her nose, a quiet whine leaving her. Tiredness was beginning to set in as the adrenaline began to dilute in her veins. But she couldn't sleep, her life could possibly be at stake. And in any case, sleep is for the weak.


Two or so hours had passed and her eyes were beginning to feel heavy. Almost unbearably heavy. The thought of her bed- hell,- even the couch just beyond the stairs sounded like a good idea. The warmth provided by her pajama bottoms only made her tiredness grow.

The still awake part of her mind told her that it is a dumb idea. She has to keep watch over this machine after all. Death, as much as a liberator of life and all of its fees, was not on her schedule at this moment. But that didn't help the physical drain of energy from her. Thoughts, after all, are just that. Thoughts.

Her teeth lightly took the flesh of her inner cheek, not chewing it, but instead grounding her to reality as she allowed her eyes to close. Her stance widening, pushing further into the wall with her back as her legs propped her up.

This isn't too bad. It could be worse. That machine could be on and making her be some sort of servant for his needs. That or in the process of killing her. Either one sounded like a loss, honestly.

Her hands were stained black now, the petrol refusing to come off of her skin. The covered, red flesh of her left hand was no longer in pain, but the bruise that was starting to form would later. The bones that laid just beneath the skin no longer complained, or maybe they are still, but her calves are lounder. The long period of standing was getting to her. It had been awhile since she had to stand for a long period of time, almost a year. But that doesn't matter now, does it?

A car passed outside, the light shining through the window brightly. The yellow light passed over the far wall before disappearing once more, leaving the only light in the room to hang over the wreck of a drone. Leaving Ophelia in darkness again.

The odd 'click' noise made her eyes fly open, jaw clenching, the sting of pain on her inner cheek as blue eyes looked over the mangled form. An awful noise sounded out, the groan of metal bringing her to recoil as one of the metal hands rose, face of the machine still facing the ceiling. The copper taste laying itself thick on her tongue again as she brought herself to stand normally, jaw locking slightly as her right hand folded over itself, her small, oil covered hand making a tight fist.

A pop of static left its speaker, a frazzled spew of unrecognizable vocalizations poured from the wire mesh. Going on before words began to solidify in the fray, body parts shifting with an angry groan of both the body and the table.

A new wave of anxiety washed over her, eyes watching this machine. Behind this anxiety laid curiosity. A human thing. A dangerous thing at this moment. The same frequency, same tune kept playing from the robot. She could almost understand it. But not quite. Almost like it was saying something.

"Where am I…?" Her heart lept in her chest as the first clear sentence left the drone, the words seeming to echo in the room, the current of broken noise laying just behind the words.

She found herself freezing in place. Mind trying to answer if this machine just had genuine confusion upon its location or if it was a ploy to distract her. The head moved slightly, looking to the far wall before turning again to face her.

There weren't any lights in the eyes.

It moved it's head back to its original position, a semi-realistic sigh leaving the machine as it heaved out a "Hello"?

Could it not see her? Her eyebrows furrowed. It would make sense, she supposed. Something had to have broken after she shocked its circuits. If it can't see her then she's no in so much danger, right? She let go of her breath, the air left her lungs and out her nose quietly, yet slightly hard. The small noise was barely audible, just under a whisper.

The head whipped to her, hand raising and firing a sudden shot of energy next to her head.

She hit the floor, a yelp leaving her as the small dusting of broken concrete rained down onto her back and shoulders. Her left hand raising and sending a warning shock from across the room. The flash of blue in various directions contrasting the single red beam that moved across the room only seconds prior. A shout left the drone and she heard it go slack once more.

She didn't electrocute it enough to cause more damage, only enough to immobilize it as she moved to stand, hand outstretched at the machine. A heavy, "Stay down," left her as she stared this machine down. Her heart hammered in her chest, blood coating her taste buds as a scowl marked her face.

The fizzle of the speaker quieted down again, an almost angry repetition of the same question earlier sounded out. The light inside of the chest cavity shining dimly through the slew of petroleum.

She didn't really know how to respond. Aren't machines supposed to be emotionless? Why is this one sounding emotional? Drawing in a breath, she looked over this machine.

"You'll find out soon enough".