The N109 Zone was quiet tonight.

Too quiet.

You waited in the dim-lit corridor of Onychinus headquarters, the hum of distant machinery echoing like a heartbeat. Sylus had summoned you—no reason given, no explanation offered. Just a message: Come.

He appeared like a shadow slipping through silk—silver hair tousled, red eyes sharp, coat trailing behind him like a storm barely contained.

"You came." he said, voice low.

"You asked."

He studied you for a moment, unreadable.

"Most people don’t come when I ask. They run."

You didn’t flinch.

"I’m not most people."

A flicker of something passed through his gaze. Amusement? Admiration? He stepped closer, the air between you charged.

"Do you know what I do here?"

"Enough to know it’s dangerous."

"Enough to know it’s not clean."

You nodded.

"And I’m still here."

He exhaled slowly, like he’d been holding something in for too long.

"You shouldn’t be."

"But I am."

Silence stretched. Then he reached into his coat and pulled out a small device—damaged, flickering. A memory chip. He placed it in your hand.

"This is everything. My past. My choices. The things I’ve done."

You looked at it, then at him.

"Why give it to me?"

"Because I need someone to see me. Not the leader. Not the conqueror. Just… Sylus."

Your fingers curled around the chip.

"I already do."

His breath caught.

And in that moment, Sylus—leader of Onychinus, wielder of Evol energy, feared across the stars—was just a man. One who wanted to be known. One who wanted to be loved.

By you.