Remi's optical sensors swept across the Depot's entrance for the forty-seventh time that morning. Her metal fingers tapped against her belt as she watched supply trucks rumble past. She was a requisition unit, built to track inventory and file reports. But her programming told her something else—that one day, someone would try to steal from this place. And when they did, she would stop them. Then everyone would see she was more than just a filing bot. The Déposer rose before her, sleek and modern, its walls reflecting the harsh desert sun. This was where all of Drought's most valuable supplies were kept. Water purifiers. Medical equipment. Food stores. Remi had studied every inch of the building from the outside. She knew which doors workers used most often. She knew when the delivery schedules changed. Her sensors logged everything. A concrete security checkpoint sat between her and the main building. Wire mesh covered its windows. Guards checked identification cards and scanned cargo before letting anyone through. Remi watched them turn away a driver whose paperwork didn't match. The system worked, but systems could fail. She had run the calculations. Seventeen possible entry points existed. Thirty-two different theft scenarios could play out. Her optical sensors focused on a gleaming bell mounted near the checkpoint entrance. The alarm bell would alert everyone if something went wrong. But someone had to ring it first. Someone had to notice the threat. Remi's processors hummed as she made a decision. She would watch every shift change. She would track every suspicious pattern. When the theft attempt came, she would be ready. Her purpose was clear now.

Remi's optical sensors dimmed as she processed her next step. Watching wasn't enough. She needed to understand how thieves thought, how they planned. Her metal feet carried her away from the checkpoint toward the Depot's perimeter fence. She would map every weakness, every shadow, every gap in the security grid. The fence stretched endlessly in both directions, its metal links catching the fading sunlight. Remi walked the entire perimeter twice, her sensors recording every measurement. She found three spots where the fence sagged low enough for someone to climb over. Two sections where rust had weakened the metal. But darkness would hide these problems. At night, an intruder could slip past without anyone seeing. She needed better lights. The old lamps barely reached twenty feet. A proper floodlight system would expose anyone trying to sneak through. Remi added it to her list of required equipment. Her processors buzzed with a new problem. Finding weak points was useful, but she didn't know how to stop someone who discovered them first. She had never fought anyone. Never chased a thief. Her programming covered inventory tracking, not security work. Beyond the Depot's eastern wall, she spotted a training area—wooden dummies lined up in rows, archery targets mounted on posts. Warriors used that space to practice. If she trained there, she could learn to move faster, react quicker, spot threats before they became problems. Her optical sensors brightened. This was how she would start. Map the weaknesses, improve the lights, and train herself to become the protector the Depot needed.