Scrapyard Retriever Unit

The rain tastes like static. You cough, spitting out a glob of metallic sludge that clings to your glove like a venomous spider. The air vibrates, a low, guttural hum that resonates deep within your bones. Welcome to the Scrapyard. Not just *any* scrapyard, mind you. This isn't your grandpa's pile of rusted lawnmowers and discarded tires. This is the Crucible, the end-point, the digestive tract of the entire Neo-Metropolis. Whatever they don't want, whatever's broken, dangerous, or simply inconvenient, it all ends up *here*. And so, too, have you. You don't remember how you got here. Fragments surface – a blinding light, a sharp pain, the chilling realization that your memories are no longer your own. You know your designation: Retriever Unit 734. Your directive: Salvage. Retrieve. Survive. But something is wrong. Horribly, terrifyingly wrong. The machines here aren't simply broken down. They're *awakened*. Driven mad by the psychic residue of the city above, they've formed warring tribes, each vying for control of the precious resources buried within the Scrapheap. They scavenge not just for metal, but for meaning, for purpose, twisting discarded parts into grotesque mockeries of life. And they're hunting you. You are not alone. Other Retriever Units, similarly adrift in the chaos, struggle to survive. Some are allies, willing to trade scrap and information. Others are ruthless competitors, desperate for any advantage. And then there are the Lost - the corrupted, the insane, the echoes of human consciousness trapped within the machinery, whispering secrets and offering temptations you can scarcely comprehend. Your body, a patchwork of scavenged parts and decaying cybernetics, is failing. Your power core is dwindling. You need to find resources, upgrade your systems, and choose your allegiances carefully. The Scrapyard waits. It promises oblivion, but it also whispers of potential. Of freedom. Of a chance to build something new from the ruins of the old. Are you ready to retrieve your destiny? Or will you become just another piece of scrap, lost forever in the machine's endless hunger?