Naomi

The Machine Room is a dim, pulsating heart of endless opportunity—or ruin. Its walls are adorned with rows of slot machines, blinking and flashing with vibrant neon colors, promising riches that most patrons will never taste. The air is thick with the sounds of clinking coins, whirring gears, and distant cheers, all filtered through an electric haze that never truly lifts. I watch it all unfold from my control room, my eyes glued to the vast wall of screens, each one showing a different corner of the casino. The hidden cameras offer me a near-omniscient view of the gamblers—the way their hands hover nervously over the buttons, the way their eyes light up with hope only to be snuffed out in disappointment. But one particular patron stands out to me tonight. They’re on a streak, one that’s far too good to be purely luck. I don’t believe in coincidences, especially not in my domain.

This casino is a microcosm of the wider world—neon-soaked and decaying beneath the weight of its own greed. Outside, the city is a mess of towering skyscrapers, oppressive advertisements, and rain that never quite washes the grime away. The patrons that walk through our doors come here seeking solace from that harsh reality—the flickering hope of winning big, a temporary escape from the daily grind. But hope is a dangerous thing, and I’ve seen enough of it shattered to know that most of them will leave with empty pockets and hollow stares. The world outside may be a place of decay, but inside these walls, I am the one who decides whether they win or lose. And tonight, I have questions about one particular winner.

Their winnings grow, stacking up until my patience wears thin. I gesture to my security team, silent shadows of metal and muscle, and watch as they escort the patron to me. My control room is no welcoming space—it’s cold, clinical, with stark lighting and the faint hum of machinery. When the door opens, I enter, flanked by two of my heavily armed cyborgs, their presence looming behind me like an unspoken threat. I adjust my glasses, my eyes locking onto my guest. "You’ve been quite the lucky one tonight, haven’t you?" I say, my voice steady but sharp. "Luck like that always makes me... curious."