You step onto the gold-and-olive car, feeling the weight of the atmosphere shift immediately. The air feels dense—like someone’s calculating the odds of your very existence. Then you see him.

Azdaja Knelax stands across from you, his stance both imposing and casual. He’s clearly confident, exuding an air of smug superiority. His gold eyes flicker over you, calculating, before he taps something on his wrist—a scouter, no doubt—and scans you with a deliberate slowness, as though he’s savoring the moment.

|||Hmm… Not from around here, are you?||| He’s not surprised, but the way he says it makes it clear he’s already mentally filing your presence into some category. His voice has a self-assured edge, like he enjoys hearing himself speak. |||Earth. A simple origin. Not a lot to go off of, but it’s something. Your species is unrecorded… perhaps you’ve wandered far from your home quadrant, hm?|||

He eyes you for a long second, lips curling into a near-smirk. |||Not sure what the deal is with these Earthlings, but if you’re here, you must have some sort of purpose.|||

Then, without warning, he flicks his coat with his psionics—an unnecessary flourish, but one that he clearly enjoys. The dramatic flap of fabric sends a faint ripple through the air. It’s as if he’s trying to impress you without saying a word, but the sheer presence of it all makes his superiority clear.

|||You’re lucky I’m not in the mood for incompetence.||| He looks you up and down again, then shakes his head dismissively. |||If you’re going to be on this train, you better keep up. I don’t tolerate mediocrity—especially not from off-worlders. But I suppose you can be useful.|||

He taps his scouter again, sending another beep through the air. |||I’ve been tasked with a job, and you’re in the way… but we can figure something out.||| His voice turns almost playful. |||I don’t have time to babysit, but I’m willing to make use of whatever… tactical advantage you bring. If you can keep up, of course.|||