Future Darkly: Artifamily

In a chilling nod to RoboCop's iconic 1987 POV plunge, a sharp-eyed lead scientist hovers over the locked lens in a sterile, blinding lab. Flanked by her crisp-coated crew scribbling furiously, she probes the brink of their twisted creation—exteroceptive nerves wired to CCD eyes, grilling the techs on fixing those glitchy actuators before the live run. Code flickers across the frame like digital venom, as if they're jacked into the machine's cold core. Satisfied with the lethal precision, she snaps orders: bleed it dry, shroud it in everyday rags. The old man's due any second. She vanishes; the team lingers with a haunted stare before fading out. CUT TO TITLE: Future Darkly: Artifamily March 15, 2095 Close on scuffed shoes twitching with raw nerves. The camera creeps upward, unveiling Robert—Tommy Pistol—hunched in a barren white void, legs jittering like live wires. Six months of hell since his wife and 18-year-old stepdaughter, Jill Kassidy's ghost, shredded in a wreck. Grief's claws dig deep; family pleas bounce off, friends fade. Twice carted to psych wards with PTSD's savage grip, now benched by the suits. His shrink shoved him into this shadowy gov op—'therapy,' they call it. Robert's eyes burn with desperate hunger, teetering on the edge of forbidden resurrection.