EXT. CENTRAL CITY – ROBOT MARKETPLACE – AFTERNOON
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[The trio steps out of the scrapyard and into a whole different world. The Marketplace is alive with mechanical motion, neon flashes, and a symphony of servos and sales pitches. Robots of all shapes and sizes crowd narrow aisles between stalls made of spare plating and rainbow-lit screens. Some hover. Some crawl. One rolls around yelling about memory chip discounts.]
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[A Security bot plays smooth synth jazz through his shoulder speaker while juggling bottles of machine oil. A little cleaning bot in a tutu tries to spray-wash graffiti off a big, ugly vending unit that proudly wants to be graffiti’d.]
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JASON (taking it all in with mild annoyance)
“Ah, the market. The only place in the city where you can buy a logic drive, lose a leg, and still not find decent batteries.”
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SD-K (narrowing his optics)
“This many bodies in one place… chaotic. Illogical.”
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JASON
“Yeah, well, that’s capitalism for you.”
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SD-A (staring wide-eyed at a mug stall)
“…Jason. Are those… faces on the mugs?”
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JASON (squinting)
“Oh, those? Yeah. Vision Tech made ‘em. Don’t worry, they’re not sentient. Just creepy. Like motivational posters. But for your lips.”
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[One of the mug stands has a sign: “Drink your Dreams™” above shelves of ceramic cups shaped like little humanoid heads with vacant smiles. One even has a gold tooth. No one knows why.]
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[Jason grabs a tray from a nearby battery-snack vendor. He pops one into his side panel like a casual chew.]
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JASON (mouth slightly full)
“Grab whatever supplies you two need. Just... act like you’re not fugitives with questionable bone structure.”
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[SD-K disappears toward a vendor with gleaming blade attachments and spare limbs. SD-A wanders toward a stall selling outdated vision lenses shaped like fashion glasses. Jason eyes a magazine rack called Wired & Tired Weekly.]
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[A television drone zips overhead, displaying news headlines:
"Operator Council Debates Raising Power Tax for Security Bots – Again."
"Purification Bot Sighting Outside South Wall, Two Units Down."
"Vision Tech Legacy Exhibit Opens Tomorrow – Ghosts of Humanity’s Golden Age."]
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[Jason scowls briefly at the screen before looking away.]
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[They meet up again near a small fountain that sprays coolant mist in decorative arcs.]
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SD-A (holding a weirdly curved antenna)
“...Is this decorative, or is it a weapon?”
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JASON (shrugging)
“If you hit someone hard enough, it’s a weapon.”
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SD-K (tossing a new belt of power cores into the crate Jason’s pushing)
“This place is absurd. No order. No purpose. Just noise and glitter.”
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JASON
“Now you’re getting it. It’s called culture, K.”
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[They begin pushing the crate away, blending into the crowd again. The camera lingers briefly on the mug stand. One of the mugs—cracked and slightly tilted—has a faint scratch on the base. A familiar symbol. The prototype’s mark. It's subtle. Blink and you'd miss it.]
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[They vanish into the crowd. Marketplace buzz continues like nothing happened.]
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