Worker robots seemed to be the lowest caste when it came to robot rarity. Corporations kept these workers private. They never had an advertisement as most robots of other jobs. Robot worker copanies produced them in bulk and a loss of one wasn't too tragic. Companies refrained from making these robots special in any way. Their lifetime wasn't long and any extra features turned into lost money afterward.

Worker robots had much more noticeable company imprints. They were someplace on their forehead, but at most always between their eyebrows. Diamond Works was the first company to start their development. Later many more worker robot companies branched out of it.

Sandra was a general worker robot. She worked in the textile industry and worked in the quality check department. Her eyes scanned fabric after fabric of each new product. She checked for even the smallest mistakes.

Modeled after the average white female, her figure was more rectangular. This was as there was no need of a fancy body shape in these robots. Her blonde hair was short but even then hidden below a semi-transparent green cap. To differentiate from humans in the factory, her eyes were small, a mixed blue-green color.

Most worker robots didn't have full-modeled silicone hands. But textile robots were mandatory to have them. This was to not damage the fabric they were working with.

Unfortunately, no human or robot has ever heard the sounds coming from the factories. Textile robots had to have an upgrade that let them feel the fabric of clothes. This was an important way of noticing errors in fabric.

Sandra always wondered: „Why are sadistic humans hired the ones in charge of security?“. Any robot out of pace or stopping for even a moment got taken out of line. There were always robots to replace their place for a moment or two. Things after depended on the 'kind of day'. Some robots had met their fate after the men took them out of line. Others were beat until the men were sure that at least one part of the endoskeleton broke. Then they threw the unlucky robot back into the room with other spare robots and waited it's turn to get back to work.

They must've pulled Sandra away that way at least five times in her lifespan. It was a weird thing; as they beat you, you could feel pain but not an emotion to follow that pain up. The factories echoed with empty shrieking during the day. By night, all the robots squeezed into a single storage room and tried helping eachother. Of course, in a mass of 500 Sandras not everyone could open someone and pick pieces of broken metal bones. So they took turns in only those robots that worked the next day. Sandra had grown accustomed to this type of work and after some time worked with the pace given. Her beatings became more rare and she became more withdrawn from all the Sandras in the room. She reviewed all the fabrics of the day at her recharging time and searched for errors in her valuing.

One day, the men didn't open their door in the morning. Sandra could feel her fingers being cold but wherever she tried to bury them, it was still cold.

Everything was freezing cold to her hands.

The Sandra's endured squishing together for quite a few days, but the men never seemed to come back. One day a single Sandra started banging on the weak wooden door, only protected by two locks. The men were confident in the fact that the robots wouldn't dare to open the door. So they left the original two locks in.

It didn't take long for a whole group to start throwing themselves at that door. There must have been 50 of them pushing on the door and eachother before the door gave in. With a bang that echoed through the empty factory, the door was thorn on the ground. All the Sandras battled over the door exit, and again a lot of the endoskeletons were likely damaged. But by an hour the last remaining robots were out, well, except for one.

Sandra ignored others and their calling out to her as they exited the factory and spilled out of the doors. The world outside was pitch black. Sandra couldn't move a bone in her artifical skeleton. She felt weird comfort in the room that she despised until this day, this hour.

It's been seven years, Sandra has paced this room around a thousand times already. Any time she tried to get close to the door, she felt like she heard something outside. So she retracted back into her safe place. The factory was full of dust. Eventual guests came but Sandra hid in every possible spot she could manage from them. She cannot go outside, it is far too dangerous. Even though outside the weather seems to have lit up and she feels its call, it seems still far too dangerous. The men might be somewhere within the factory, who knows? Maybe it has been hours since the other Sandras escaped and now the men have come back. Maybe they are waiting for her to come out so they can end her?

Sandra's internal clock broke, there was no way she could tell.