inkbunny.net · 3724005:5748466

Art by [url=https://x.com/picaipii]🔞PICAIPII (working on comms 4/4)🔞 (@picaipii) / X[/url]

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The protodrone’s fingers flex inside frost-glazed gloves. It adjusts the traverse of the AGL mounted on its foxhole bipod. Beside it, the F.O.X. unit crouches in perfect silence. Latex haunches raised, tail curled above to expose the utility hole where a belt of grenades disappears into its gut. Every few seconds, its muscles clench forcing another round up the feed tube and into the weapon’s breech with a wet *thunk.*

No wasted motion. No misfires. Just the rhythmic *gurgle-click* of munitions' smooth, sloppy feeding.Tthe F.O.X.’s visor dimmed in the dark underneath the chemical aurora above. The protodrone gives it a sweet pet in between salvos. It racks the charging handle and resumes firing into the tree line, where Cartel hybrids screech.

[url=http://www.postybirb.com]Posted using PostyBirb[/url]