Octo had played us. That phone call. There never was a witness, never anyone brave enough to step into the light, and they sure as hell weren’t waiting in a dead alley that smelled like old rain and burnt cars. It was bait. Clean. Obvious. And I walked straight into it.

The fire escape rattled above us before I could curse myself twice, and then the machine dropped from the skies like a god with too many arms, cables whipping through the air, metal limbs carving sparks from brick. She knew we were close. Knew we’d traced the shipments, the shell accounts, the bodies.

This wasn’t negotiation. This was erasure.

I flexed my right arm, felt the quiet hum of the negotiator spin to life beneath the hull, advanced firing chamber cycling, ready to speak the only language Octo understood.

“Madeline, stay behind me!I shouted without looking back.


NOTES:-------------
This is a post I sent to Daz3D Gallery back on February 15, 2026 but somehow never posted here.

No AI but edits completed using the free Affinity Canva and Google Snapseed.

Started with the action of sparks, flashy explosions, different robot, etc. in slot #2 But then decided I wanted it to be more intimate if that makes sense.