Divine Singularity || Reader x Murder Drones

"You know, I've always liked drones. That's why I was so excited when we first got you."

Another dream. Another memory. But not one from the distant past by the sounds of it—no, this one felt newer. More recent, though still veiled in the haze of decay. You recognized the voice, or at least thought you did. It sounded familiar enough to the child from earlier dreams, but... more grown. You could tell it was a boy's voice now. Aged just enough to the point his height matched yours.

Your vision came slowly, stuttering like a VHS tape—colors bleeding at the edges, the image jittering like it was being dragged from the bottom of a swamp. You couldn't see him clearly. Of course you couldn't. Humans were always shadows to you. But the outline of him was there: a lanky frame, hands stuffed into the pockets of a too-big coat, head tilted skyward with the awe only children and fools reserved for skyscrapers.

And what a skyscraper it was.

In front of you both loomed a monolithic structure, its surface all glinting steel and shimmering panels, rising so high it might have threatened the atmosphere. The name on the front was one you recognized.

JC Jenson in Spaaaaace!

The boy gave a low whistle, clearly impressed even though he must've seen it a hundred times before. "One day," he said, nudging you, "I'm going to work for them. That's the dream."

You—well, the you in the memory—replied without hesitation. Your voice was warmer, brighter, and far more alive than the filtered monotone that had become your default.

"I believe you can do it. Just gotta put your mind to it."

It wasn't a canned response, either. The you in this memory—from what you could feel—actually believed it.

The boy smiled, then reached out and gave your shoulder a quick, friendly pat. You felt your own lips curve up in response, and the two of you stood there, looking up to what his future would be.

Then, as all dreams do, it began to decay. The edges frayed, the light bled away, and the comforting wash of memory gave way to the cold pulse of reality booting back in.

——————————

You stretched wide, your massive, monstrous maw yawning open in a silent roar as countless limbs unfurled from your feathered form, joints popping in lazy succession like creaking floorboards underfoot. Your body rippled and shivered from the motion, shaking off the calm of night like dew from leaves. But the sound—soft as it was—provoked movement behind you. A drowsy groan followed by the rustle of plumage stirred your attention. J shifted slightly in her perch on your back, rolling over and mumbling something unintelligible into your feathers, her voice like a pocket of static caught in a low-frequency hum.

Right. You had almost forgotten she was still here.

You blinked slowly—one of a thousand blinking eyes—lifting your gaze toward the horizon. The first hints of dawn had begun to rise, casting long tendrils of orange and violet light across the upper rim of the sky. It wasn't quite morning yet, not really. Just that strange, liminal hour where the world seemed suspended in an exhale, the air holding its breath as night relinquished its hold.

Too early to wake her. Too late to sleep again. A curse of sorts.

So, you remained still, a great beast at rest beneath the heavens, the wind gently sifting through your feathers as your thoughts drifted back toward the fragments of dream you had pulled from the void of sleep.