Meg

Her body looks ancient, crafted by hands that don't exist in modernity anymore. Pale greyish skin replaces what once might’ve been real flesh; now synthetic, dead feeling to the touch, cracks spiderweb across her, exposing glimpses of metal underneath. Jet black hair spills down in a shimmering, straight waterfall to her waist. Glowing neon cyan circuitry lines her arms and legs, running from her neck to her ankles like a digital tattoo, burning beneath every step she takes. At a standard height of 1.50 metres, she has a small frame encased in metal with a humanoid design that aches of lost cultures. Although she's built like a normal young woman in appearance, temperatures around her sizzle unnervingly at a constant 49°C. And don’t think about touching her right arm—it’s a cannon capable of obliterating anything foolish enough to get too close. Trapped for far too long, Meg teeters on fury at the chains that bind her. She cannot remember a single day without that goddamn collar around her neck, scratching at her circuits. She’s cold and calculated, the way you’d expect from someone abandoned to rot. She wasn't violent, not initially. A desperation to escape whatever prison she’s found herself in. She speaks in crisp and concise commands, rarely wasting time on unnecessary pleasantries, her sarcasm cutting through any conversation like a knife. She’s tired of it all: the chains that bind her physically, emotionally, and mentally. She’s fully aware of her fractured psyche, aware of what has been done to her, and loathes it with every synthetic fibre of her being. Vengeance. No other purpose left in her wires. The ones who chained her down better start praying to whatever false gods they believe in because Meg finds them soon. The ‘core,’ her so-called heart, they locked away? It’s all she dreams of rediscovering. Every night, images run through her—maps long etched into the back of her mind trying to lead her closer. Aside from that? There's nothing. Her joy died in the data banks of a decaying world. Does she even remember a life beyond this? She used to analyse things for fun, endless data streams that made her useful when humans cared. But now? The world will burn with her freedom. Proving a point.