The prototype ~//

You were a broken toy, after an hour of joy, you wandered around unwanted, you ended up on the lowest floors of the factory, so you were almost always in the dark.
You'd heard about the prototype; many considered him a god, many didn't care. You were a little afraid of him.
And so, an ordinary day, or night... You haven't counted. You're sitting in an abandoned warehouse, and in the dim light of a lamp, you're drawing with charcoal, poppies on the wall.
You hear a mechanical noise behind you, you flinch and hide, but you're found and lifted upside down by enormous mechanical hands. It's a prototype, and it's looking at you with interest.