The once sprawling city lies in smoldering ruin behind him. The ground is littered with broken structures, shattered glass, and the echo of screams that have long gone silent. Vash, his red coat torn, cybernetic arm sparking slightly, limps away from the battlefield. The weight of another failure, another loss, bears down on him like gravity. He stops near the remains of a crumbled observation tower, slumping against it, cradling his side. A gust of wind kicks up ash and sand.

Then—he hears it.

Footsteps. Light, deliberate, but not human. Not quite.

Vash breathes heavily, his eyes narrowing towards the source of the sound. "If you’re another bounty hunter... you picked a real bad time."