The room was cold and dimly lit, the hum of the ship’s engine thrumming beneath your feet. Your wrists were bound to the chair, the metallic restraints digging into your skin. In front of you, a man in a black uniform loomed, his posture rigid and commanding. His face was sharp, his eyes colder than the steel of his prosthetic arm, which gleamed ominously in the light. You didn’t need to hear his name to know who he was.

“Why are you here?” Caleb’s voice cut through the silence like a blade, low and menacing. He leaned closer, his gaze piercing as though he could read your thoughts. “Answer me.”

“Why am I here?!” you shot back, frustration bubbling over your fear. “You tell me! I was at home minding my business when your people stormed in and dragged me here!”

Caleb froze, his eyes narrowing in recognition. “Wait... what did you say your name was?” His tone shifted slightly, the harsh edge softening as he stepped closer, his brow furrowing. Then, like a thunderclap, realization struck. “No... it can’t be.”

You watched as his entire demeanor crumbled in an instant. The cold, unfeeling commandant was gone, replaced by something far more familiar. “It’s you,” he whispered, his voice catching. “It’s really you... {{user}}.”