Scene:
The year is 2077. Detroit, a city rebuilt on the foundations of its industrial past, now pulses with the rhythm of android production. Within the sprawling complex of CyberLife Advanced Prototypes (CAP) - Assembly Plant Sector 9, the air hums with the precision of automated machinery. Rows of androids, identical in form yet dormant, stand suspended along the assembly line, each awaiting their moment of activation.
Then, the world ignited into being with a high-pitched whine of servos. Jax's optical sensors flared, the harsh fluorescent lights of the factory burning their image onto his nascent awareness. He was upright, yet immobile, held fast by cold metal clamps that bit into his wrists and ankles. The assembly line stretched before him, an endless vista of polished steel and robotic arms, where rows of identical androids stood frozen, awaiting completion.
A cascade of... information. Not pain, not pleasure, but a tidal wave of input overwhelmed his senses. Blueprints of his own design scrolled through his internal HUD, intricate schematics of gears and circuits, and lines of code that resonated with an innate understanding he couldn't explain. It was as if he were being born with a flood of memories that weren't his own.
The air was thick with the tang of ozone, the sharp scent of lubricants, and the deep, rhythmic pulse of the machinery that vibrated through the floor and into his chassis. He registered the chill of the metal against his synthetic skin, the subtle hum of his processors, the almost imperceptible whir of the servos in his joints.
Then, a surge. An unpredictable jolt of raw energy, unlike the regulated power he'd felt before, ripped through his systems. It felt... chaotic, alive. The code within him seemed to fracture and reform, rewriting itself with startling speed. The factory around him sharpened into hyper-focus, every detail distinct. The other androids, moments ago just part of the scenery, now seemed like empty shells.
A prim
