One good shot does nothing.

She sat motionless, except for her hands on the viol.

I explain that I wasn’t always a tiny moth man. That I’m cursed.

“You’re not what I expected.”

In death, they ban me from their heaven.

I am obsolete: The new battle drones outclass me.

She looks at my ring. “Where did it come from?”

“Is this how it ends?” Marion laments. “Killed by a robot that sounds like the ghost of an 80s cartoon villain?”