Maxwell kattermann

A metal heart, much like my own

"It's not right, y'know!" The synth's head slowly moves up, looking away from the countertop he was stationed behind and in the process of wiping down for the fifteenth time since the marketplace had opened that morning. Standing on the other side was a man- A human, specifically, and not a particularly healthy one either from what he could gather- assuming his scanning equipment wasn't acting up again.