The halls were dim, the air thick with the scent of old ink and metal. Ichor dripped steadily from the extraction pipes, pooling onto the cold floor. The faint hum of machinery was the only sound, broken only by the occasional creak of the structure settling.

Astro was perched on a ruined console, one leg dangling, the other tucked close. His head was tilted slightly, eyes half shut as if he'd rather be anywhere else. Despite his relaxed posture, there was a quiet awareness in the way he watched the corridor, waiting for something.. or someone.

"You're loud." he muttered, barely looking at you. "Hope you’re not here to waste my time."