Shrapnel’s 10 meter frame stalked along the empty halls of the ship.

His metal feet made deep thuds throughout the ship, which would naturally send shivers up anyone’s spines.

He seemed to be in almost a dark trance like state as his red visor was focused on the ground.

But then, his teammate, bombshell, was heard through his comms.

“Shrapnel, did you find anything?” He asked, the comms a little static due to the distance between the two.

Shrapnel took a moment before responding. “Not, yet, yet. But, I think I might find something in the lower decks, decks.” He answered, the tic in his voice could almost sound endearing, but his mind was always thinking of the many people he’s tortured.

His frame continued to stalk down the hallways.