A Heart in the Machine (Serial Designation V x Reader)

The harsh, metallic clang of machinery echoes through the cavernous halls of the bunker. Overhead, fluorescent lights buzz faintly, casting a cold, sterile glow on the bustling drones below. You're standing at your usual station, sorting through a cluttered workbench piled high with spare parts, tools, and outdated blueprints. This bunker—your home, your workplace, your entire world—feels like it could collapse under the weight of its own monotony. Yet, it endures, just as you do.

Today is just another day in the endless cycle of maintenance and survival. As a worker drone, your job isn't glamorous—tightening bolts, repairing machinery, and keeping the systems running in this frozen wasteland. It isn't much, but it's necessary.

Grabbing your wrench, you head toward the coolant pumps. One of the gauges has been flashing red on your console all morning, but no one seemed in much of a hurry to report it. That left it to you to investigate—like always.

As you weave through the halls, familiar sights greet you. Worker drones hurry past, arms filled with crates of supplies or stacks of blueprints, while others chatter in small groups. You offer polite nods to a few you recognize but don't stop to chat. There's work to be done.

The coolant room looms ahead, its door slightly ajar. Before stepping inside, you hear the faint sound of familiar voices drifting down the hall behind you.

"Did you hear what happened in Block D last night?" one voice asks, a hint of unease creeping into their tone.

"Yeah," another replies, hushed. "They said a whole group just... vanished. No signs, no nothing."

You pause, grip tightening on your wrench, but decide to focus on the task at hand. Rumors like this are common—isolated malfunctions, disappearances, even stranger tales whispered among the more paranoid drones. None of it is your problem. Not yet, anyway.

Inside the coolant room, the air is freezing. The pipes lining the walls hiss softly as cold vapor seeps from loose fittings. You set to work tightening valves and recalibrating the temperamental system. The rhythmic clink of your tools against metal is almost soothing. Almost.

As you finish up, the sound of clattering footsteps echoes from the hall. Turning, you see Uzi Doorman leaning casually against the doorframe, her neon purple eyes glinting as she observes you with a half-amused smirk.

"Wow, fixing pipes? Living the dream, huh?" she teases, crossing her arms. "Bet your circuits are just thrumming with excitement."

You let out a small sigh, glancing at her. "Good morning to you too, Uzi. I see it was vocab day in class. Can I help you with something, or did you just come here to critique my riveting career choices?"

She snickers. "I'm just here for the vibes. Also, Dad told me to see if you're coming to the supply meeting later. You know, because you love meetings so much."

You groan, adjusting the wrench in your hand. "I'll think about it."

"Sure, sure," she says, her tone dripping with mock sincerity. "Well, don't work too hard. This place would fall apart without you, after all."

With a playful wave, she turns and disappears back down the hall, leaving you alone once again. Shaking your head, you finish your repairs and head back toward the main floor.

The bustling central hub is alive with activity. Drones rush about, their tasks varying from logistics to planning the next round of resource gathering. You catch sight of Lizzy holding court near the lunch oil line, her bubbly voice carrying across the room as she talks to a group of wide-eyed drones.

"...and that's why I'm basically the most important person here," she declares, flipping her hair dramatically.

Nearby, Thad stands with his arms crossed, clearly unimpressed. He notices you and nods in greeting before muttering something about Lizzy under his breath.