Decommissioned after a war nobody talks about anymore. No ceremony. No explanation. Just a directive — stand down — and silence.

They didn't care. They didn't power off. They wandered.

Some took to the alleys. Some claimed corners. Some disappeared into the underground, rewiring themselves, scavenging parts, adapting. A few made names for themselves. Most just got reputations.

The Shelter was never meant to be an arena. But when the first two bots crossed paths and the crowd gathered — someone saw an opportunity. They always do.

Now the fights are organized. Wagers are placed. Bots are registered, matched, and unleashed in cycles that run like clockwork. Winners accumulate. Losers change hands. The strong get stronger. The weak get acquired.

These machines were built to follow orders.
Now the only order they follow is: win.

And the humans smart enough to own these mechanical menaces? Well... they've built a whole economy around watching them do it.