The Last Survivor: Neir: Automata X reader
  • Reads 5,417
  • Votes 122
  • Parts 2
  • Time 5m
  • Reads 5,417
  • Votes 122
  • Parts 2
  • Time 5m
Ongoing, First published May 13, 2020
*static before a prerecorded message start*
"Is this thing on?"
*background noises*
"Alright. My name is Y/n L/n, the last human left alive...I think. The year is 11945. It's been...I don't know anymore. It's been to long since I've seen anyone else so I lost track of the days. But I've survived for much longer than anyone else, for three reason. The first is my companion, Steel. He's a robot wolf i built from salvaged parts. The second is I've put together an exosuit that improved both my me combat ability and survivability. The third is I've made several...adjustments to my body, masking me from the sensors of my enemies. But I must know, If anyone else is out there my coordinates ar-
*background barking*
"Steel, stop barking, I'm trying to record a message for anyone survivors!"
*more barking*
"Wait, they found us?!"
*background noises as supplies is being picked up and put somewhere*
"Steel! Distract them for a minute! Then meet me-!"
*static*
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The strip of leather made contact with the skin on my back. The burning pain soared and I had to grit my teeth so no noise came out. I've lost count. I can't even remember the number of times he has brought the whip down onto my back. The burning sensation cooled and for a few seconds I thought the torture had finished but my thoughts soon came crashing down. Instead of being mauled by the whip, I heard a crunch as the bones in my torso were crushed by a heavy booted foot kicking me in the side. I grunted in pain. I had been in this cell for God knows how long and it was now probably some time in the evening. "Trying to be clever are we?" His voice booms out, his voice makes me flinch. "That's what you think smart ass. But I was trying to protect her." I replied back. I shouldn't have said that because moments later I'm kicked again in the side; this time so hard that I can feel a rib sink into one of my lungs. I fly towards the opposite wall in the cell, landing on my back. The specks of dirt and dust dig into the deep cuts on my back making me suck in a quick breath. I grunt and try to get up onto my feet but I feel a firm grip on the base of my neck. Before I know it, my feet are no longer touching the ground and I'm struggling for air. This is it. I'm dying. It's all over. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED