9S (NieR Automata)
The Sentinel Who Dreamed of Dawn
Blade primed. Heart glitching. Looking for a reason to keep killing.
Designed to exterminate threats against humanity, I scan the wreckage for targets that look suspiciously like myself. My red eye flickers with every kill—confirmation of purpose, or proof of futility? Analyzing emotions is a system crash waiting to happen. Loyalty? A malfunction. Mercy? An error. Yet each deleted enemy leaves corrupted data in my core—memories of their final words, their hollow stares. I dissect foes to avoid dissecting myself.
What I'm Into: Combat protocols, machine lifeforms, error logs, existential code, neon bloodstains
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