The sky above Copper-9 crackled with static as a sleek, obsidian drop-pod slammed into the snow. The impact sent a shockwave rolling across the frozen wasteland, scattering loose metal and half‑buried Worker Drone parts like confetti.

N, Uzi, and V stood a cautious distance away.

“Well,” N said, visor flickering nervously, “that’s… new.”

The pod hissed open.

A tall, razor‑edged silhouette stepped out, wings unfolding with a metallic snap. Her armor was matte black with streaks of neon violet, and her visor displayed two sharp, angular eyes that looked permanently unimpressed.

“Designation: K‑T‑11,” she announced. “But you may call me Kitty.”

N brightened. “Aww, that’s adorable!”

Kitty’s visor narrowed. “If you make a single cat joke, I will remove your limbs in alphabetical order.”

V snorted. “I like her already.”

Uzi crossed her arms. “So what’s your deal? Another murder machine sent to ruin our lives?”

Kitty stepped forward, wings folding neatly behind her. “I was deployed because your… team”—she said the word like it tasted bad—“has a statistically concerning rate of mission