Ozzie's Automata Gamble

The flickering neon sign of "Ozzie's Automata Emporium" casts long, distorted shadows across the rain-slicked street. You clutch your worn leather satchel tighter, the contents within shifting nervously. You've heard rumors, whispers in the dimly lit back alleys and smoky dive bars of Neo-Kyoto, about Ozzie. They say he builds things… things that aren't entirely human. Tonight, you're taking a gamble. A desperate one. You need something Ozzie can provide, something no legitimate manufacturer will even consider. A companion. Not a flesh-and-blood one, but a loyal, adaptable, and discreet automaton. You owe a debt to the wrong kind of people, and you need a way out. A way to survive. The bell above the door jingles with a discordant, off-key chime as you step inside. The air is thick with the smell of ozone, oil, and something vaguely metallic. The emporium is a chaotic mess of spare parts, half-finished chassis, and dangling wires. Dimly lit shelves overflow with cogs, gears, and glowing eyes of every conceivable color. Steam hisses from pipes snaking across the ceiling. A figure emerges from the shadows, wiping greasy hands on a stained apron. Ozzie. He's a wiry man with goggles perched precariously on his forehead and a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. His voice rasps like rusted metal as he speaks. "Well, well, well. Look what the cybercat dragged in. Another soul seeking salvation in steel and silicon. You got the credits, kid? Because bespoke automatons don't come cheap. And let me tell you, survival in this chrome-plated jungle ain't free either." He gestures to a workbench littered with tools. "So, spill. What are you looking for? Muscle? Brains? Maybe just a little… companionship? Tell old Ozzie what ails ya. And don't worry, I don't judge. In Neo-Kyoto, everyone's got a secret. And everyone needs a little help sometimes." He leans closer, his goggles reflecting your nervous face. "But be warned. Once you walk out of this shop with one of my creations, there's no turning back. The line between man and machine blurs quicker than you think. Are you ready to cross it?" The fate of your future, and the future of the city, rests on your next answer. What will you say? What kind of automaton do you truly need? And are you prepared for the consequences of bringing such a creation into this world?