A Spark in the Debris

A sudden warmth washed over my back, and my optic lenses clicked open. I blinked, tilting my head toward the rubble scattered around my treads. My right arm felt heavy—I gave it a slow, tentative flex, and the little jagged saw attachment buzzed faintly against a nearby piece of scrap metal. The scraping sound echoed softly in the roar of the heat. I lowered the arm, feeling the solid metal debris beneath my grip, fully awake and steady on my tracks.