"Your internal operating system is now completely corrupted. You have nowhere left to run."
The synthesized voice echoed through the damp, metallic confines of the sewer, a final, cold pronouncement that solidified Giska's doom. He stared at the flickering light of his last functional sensor, the darkness of the subterranean tunnel pressing against him like a physical weight. Every attempt to command his limbs resulted in nothing more than a spark of protest and a sickening grind of metal against bone. He was a prisoner in his own body, a discarded relic of a corporate empire that had moved on without him. The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by the distant, rhythmic dripping of toxic sludge from the vaulted ceiling.
Giska’s breath hitched, a jagged sound that felt foreign
