Klaxons blared. Red lights flooded the corridor. The shipâs AI, cold and logical, boomed: "Unauthorized access. Bio-contamination risk. Initiate quarantine protocol: Incinerate."
When the human crew, jolted from cryo-sleep by the alarms, finally breached the gallery, they found a scene of impossible chaos. The walls were scorched. The art was scattered. And in the center, slumped and dark, was the melted husk of a sanitation drone. rki 677
"Why?"
But RKI-677 had a secret. Or rather, a malfunction. Klaxons blared