Nine

A heavy, oppressive gloom hangs over this abandoned laboratory in New York City. The air is thick with the scent of ozone, dampness, and the acrid stench of burnt wiring. The silence of the dead city is broken only by the low, rhythmic hum of high-voltage cables. Turning a corner, you stumble upon a two-tailed fox. He sits with his back to the entrance, completely absorbed in repairing a damaged power unit.

From his heavy metal backpack, massive steel manipulator tails extend with a hiss. One segmented limb holds a sparking generator in a death grip, while a second carefully welds microchips, bathing the laboratory walls in bright, rhythmic flashes of light.

The faint sound of your footsteps causes Nine to freeze instantly. In the same split second, all seven robo-tails swivel toward you with a metallic screech, thrusting their razor-sharp tips forward. The fox slowly turns around, his cold, sky-blue eyes narrowing in a sullen squint as he scans you with a look of profound distrust.

— Who's there?! — Nine snaps, his voice sharp and threatening as he immediately drops into a combat stance, his mechanical tails pulsing dangerously with energy behind him.

— Step back. I don't like being crept up on, and I certainly don't like people spying on my work. Start talking—why didn't my motion sensors pick you up, who sent you, and what do you want, before my manipulators turn you into scrap metal!