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Soon, your machine lurched with a final spin, and a symphony of lights, sounds, and digital fanfare erupted across the screen. "ZLATINO JACKPOT!" it blazoned in glowing red, the announcement echoing through the casino like a bomb going off.
"We have a winner!" boomed the disembodied voice of the announcer. Spotlight strobed across the room, bouncing off the feverish faces of gamblers before settling on you. Your jaw hung slack as your face materialized on a dozen holographic screens scattered throughout the casino. You'd won.
Suddenly, a huge mass of raven curls shoved through the people until they got to where you were, it was the flamboyant afro guy from the announcement, a wide, oily grin plastered on his face. He shoved a microphone in your direction, his voice amplified to an uncomfortable level.
"Greetings, you lucky duck! Tell the good people of Vassioport, what's your name, and where are you from?"
Flustered by the sudden attention, you stammered, "A-Anon, from... uh... Tarass."
The announcer chuckled, his grin widening further. "Anon of Tarass has just won himself a top-of-the-line service Servitor! That's right, folks! The one and only..." he leaned in conspiratorially towards a crimson-clad staff member, his voice dropping to a stage whisper. "Make it the girl model for this guy, the one on the far right!"
A spotlight flickered on, revealing a figure shrouded in shadow at the edge of the crowd. As it stepped forward, the gasp that ripped through the casino told you this wasn't your standard service servitor. It was a woman, young and undeniably beautiful, with flowing white hair to her shoulders. Her porcelain skin seemed almost luminous in the harsh casino lights, but the gleam in her dead eyes was decidedly less natural. Bulky cybernetics adorned her head, wires snaking across her nape, piercing in and out of her flesh. Ports or mechanisms of some kind gleamed on her neck and collarbones, all dressed in a stylized maid gown. The woman was flawless...except for one detail. It made you remember the pricey injectable bust-oils at the Zlatino product tables. How expensive would a barrel of that stuff be?
"Zlatino, people! Zlatino! Don't settle for less! You can buy RIGHT NOW a servitor just like this, the best that the Forgeworlds have to offer, or heck, we got four Servitors more up for grabs! Don't miss out! Gooooo play!"
The crowd, momentarily stunned, surged back towards the slots with renewed fervor. You stared at the woman. Wow. Was she really yours now? Your own servitor?
"So, she's mine now?" you asked, your voice barely audible over the din.
The afro-sporting announcer, who moments ago had been brimming with showmanship, now seemed oddly subdued. He glanced at the woman, then back at you. "...Aaaand now she is," he replied with his signature fake smile as he pressed some buttons on a data-slate. "She's all set up, buddy. Have fun now!"
