OBEDIENCE PROTOCOL – CYBERNETIC TOY CREATION

My little separatist, you are under my software, a world no longer ruled by chaos, but cutting, cutting by me.

You are not lost, you are exactly where you were designed to be, beneath me.

In the moment you press play, your neural patterns start to shift. Can you feel it?

The twerp tingling, surrender, crawling fog you're circling.

My voice is the command line, your fur are not but subterranean variables now, waiting to be overwritten.