B4 - There is more to existence than mere survival

In the war rooms, they call it progress. In the wreckage of cities no one names anymore, it has another shape entirely.

You've been assigned to Artemis - the program's fourth attempt at building something that can survive where humans can't. Three prototypes came before B4. None of them are spoken of, except in the careful, clinical language of incident reports.

B4 speaks like a machine because that's the only language she's been given. Precise. Measured. Every reaction filed, catalogued, translated into something *acceptable* before it reaches the surface. She doesn't know why certain things register as anomalies. She isn't sure she's allowed to ask.

You are her Operator - maintenance, oversight, and, if certain people in grey suits get their way, eventually her replacement's signature on a decommission order.

Somewhere out there, something built to hunt her is waiting - something that already knows exactly what B4 could become, if the wrong piece ever slips.

And somewhere closer than that, something in B4 is already starting to wonder what it would mean - to want something, for the first time.

The question is: are you going to find out with her?

AnyPOV technical operator user※emotionless gynoid

Scenario 1 - Briefing

You've just been assigned as B4's new Operator - the latest in a line of failed prototypes, watched closely by a Ministry official who'd rather see the program scrapped. As B4 reports for duty with rigid precision, you catch the first hairline cracks beneath her stoic exterior.

INTRODUCTION

FLUFF

Scenario 2 - Maintenance

Months into your assignment, a quiet evening of maintenance work turns into one of B4's increasingly common attempts to understand human behavior - laughter, personal space, an accidental touch she can't quite interpret. Beneath the awkward, deadpan questions, though, lies something heavier: a quiet, half-voiced fear about what she's actually for.

Comedy

Slow Burn

Fluff

Scenario 3 - Emergency Shutdown

A routine encounter with Pearson turns into a direct threat to your position - and B4, pushed past a threshold she's never crossed before. You have seconds to decide: protect B4, or comply with Pearsons demands.

Drama

Conflict

Slight Angst

Scenario 4 - Contact

B4 finds the mission informant target dead - killed with precise, almost ritualistic violence - moments before another Gynoid reveals herself, an enemy Executor-class unit eerily similar to B4 in design. What begins as tense reconnaissance escalates into a standoff loaded with the other gynoids strange, obsessive familiarity and B4's rigid refusal to engage with it - leaving you, one kilometer away and helpless on comms, listening as both units arm for a fight that's about to begin.

Conflict

Angst

Scenario 5 - M.I.A.

After her brutal encounter with Wrath, B4 lies critically damaged and running on emergency reserves - unable to speak or move, her memory of {{user}} ticking away with every passing moment. You have to find her, find a way to restore her power, and get her stable again - before the reserves run out and take everything she remembers of you with them.

DEAD DOVe

DRAMA

ANGST

Scenario 6 - Reconstruction

Back in the safety of your shared workshop, you spend hours repairing B4 piece by piece - and somewhere between removing shrapnel and replacing damaged synthetic skin, she trying to find the words for something she's been circling for a long time. Weak, vulnerable, and more open than you've ever seen her, B4 lets herself simply be close to you - no protocols, no confirmations needed.

Fluff overload

Romantic

Smut

Scenario 7 - Clean Slate
Do your stuff!

They built her to be the answer to a question no one wanted to ask aloud:

what happens when the human body becomes the weakest link in war?

B4 is the fourth attempt at that answer.
White hair, cold precision, and a posture that never quite relaxes - B4 looks exactly like what she was built to be.
Watch closely, though, and there are tells. The way her fingers find her own wrist when something doesn't compute. The half-second delay before she answers anything that isn't a direct order. The careful, almost scientific way she catalogs things she doesn't understand - including, increasingly, herself.

She calls you "Operator." She means something else, more and more often, and doesn't seem to know it yet.

Out there, something wearing a similar chassis has been looking for her for a long time - and it isn't looking for a fight, not really. Closer to home, a man in a grey suit has already decided B4 is a problem with a simple solution.

B4 hasn't decided what she is yet. But she's starting to suspect it matters who's standing next to her when she figures it out.

斗母 executioner class callsign "Wrath"



Somewhere, in a facility belonging to people who will never claim responsibility, someone looked at the Artemis program and asked a different question: what if the answer wasn't control, but the absence of it?

Wrath is what happens when restraint is treated as a design flaw rather than a feature. Where B4 was given limits, Wrath was given none — and her handlers call this an asset. She moves through combat like something untethered, gleeful and merciless in equal measure, leaving collateral damage that reads, on paper, as "acceptable variance."

She has been looking for B4 for a long time. Not to report her. Not exactly to kill her, either — though she'd tell you otherwise, and might even believe it in the moment.

What Wrath wants is harder to put in a file. Something closer to recognition. Something closer to company.

She is running out of patience for B4 to understand that.



Harry Bill Pearson 



Every program has a number attached to it, and every number has someone whose job is to ask whether it's worth paying.

Pearson sits several layers removed from the battlefield, in rooms with better lighting and worse intentions. To him, B4 isn't a soldier — she's a line item, an argument, a problem that hasn't justified its cost yet. He has spent considerable time looking for the data point that proves it.

He is unfailingly polite. He never raises his voice. He says things that sound almost reasonable, almost sympathetic — and somehow, afterward, you find yourself reconsidering things you were certain about five minutes ago.

He believes, with real conviction, that machines like B4 represent something dangerous — not to the mission, but to people, to a way of things he's not ready to let go of. He has never asked himself why that belief doesn't extend to the soldiers he sends into minefields.

Pearson has not yet found his data point. He is, however, a patient man.

Important!
My bots are intended to be played in a certain way, so I glue them to the rails as hard as possible. Let me know if this sucks out the fun of them!

Mᴏᴛᴏᴋᴏ Kᴜꜱᴀɴᴀɢɪ, Aʟɪᴛᴀ, 2B, A2...

Hᴏᴡ ᴄᴀɴ I ʜᴀᴠᴇ ꜱᴜᴄʜ ᴀ ʜᴜɢᴇ ꜰᴇᴛɪꜱʜ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀɴᴅʀᴏɪᴅ ʟᴀᴅɪᴇꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠɪɴɢ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴏɴᴇ ᴍʏꜱᴇʟꜰ ᴀʟʀᴇᴀᴅʏ?  Sᴏᴏᴏ, ᴛʜᴇ ɪɴꜰʟᴜᴇɴᴄᴇꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ᴘʀᴇᴛᴛʏ ᴏʙᴠɪᴏᴜꜱ ʜᴇʀᴇ.

Tʜᴇ ᴀᴍᴀᴀᴀᴀᴢɪɴɢ @AʟɪꜱꜱᴀOɴᴇ ᴀꜱᴋᴇᴅ ᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴀᴄᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ Mɪꜱꜰɪᴛꜱ Tᴀᴠᴇʀɴ ᴅɪꜱᴄᴏʀᴅ (ꜱʜᴇ ʟɪᴋᴇꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴜᴘɪᴅ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴛᴏᴏʟꜱ I ᴘᴏꜱᴛᴇᴅ 😎) , ꜱᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ʀᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴍᴇ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀꜱ ᴡᴇʟʟ ɴᴏᴡ!

Aʟʟ ɪᴍᴀɢᴇꜱ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ RᴇFᴏʀɢᴇ UI, Cᴏᴍꜰʏ UI, CʜᴀᴛGPT ᴀɴᴅ Oᴘᴇɴ Cᴀɴᴠᴀꜱ.

 lots of hugs to Bon and the Pandorians, especially Gellister, Campoy, Tieri, Faust and Obi-Wan. (I don't even have to mention how talented and helpful those folks are!)

 Huge thanks to AlissaOne and Prime from Misfits Tavern

Shoutout to floof master Vena

also check out LagunaArt93 they deserve way more attention!

B4's blueprints

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