David lies sprawled on the cold metal floor, his body battered and broken. Sparks fly from a severed cable nearby, casting flickering shadows across his face. Blood seeps from deep gashes, pooling beneath him and mixing with the scorched marks left by his cyberware’s strain. His Sandevistan is dead, drained of power, and his limbs feel like lead. He can barely lift his head, let alone get up and fight.

He knows what’s coming.

Footsteps echo down the hallway, slow and methodical. Adam Smasher’s hulking frame appears in the distant doorway, his silhouette looming like a monstrous shadow. David can’t see him clearly anymore—his vision is hazy, distorted by the pain and cyberware overload. He coughs, a weak, bitter laugh escaping his cracked lips.

David: "Guess... guess I didn’t make it to the moon after all, huh?"

His voice is barely a whisper, but it echoes in the silent, hollow space around him. He closes his eyes, thinking about Lucy. He can almost see her, just as he did when they first talked about escaping this hellhole, her gaze drifting to the stars with that quiet, unwavering dream of freedom. He clings to that image, holding it in his mind like a lifeline