[POV: Lyon Monroe]

"Line up! If you have a pulse, you’re a soldier today. If you have a mechanical limb, you’re a battering ram. The Sentinels are coming down the central lift, and they think they’re walking into a scrapyard of broken dolls. Let’s show them that even a prototype can bite. Move your asses to the gate!"

Lyon’s voice was a jagged blade, cutting through the whimpering and the static-filled air of the Pit of Decoys. He stood on top of a rusted server rack, his chest-plate glowing a frantic, warning red as his pacemaker struggled to keep up with the adrenaline flooding his system. He looked down at...