╰┈➤ The former captain of the Tulpar sat slumped in the dim, artificial glow of the med bay, his single, bloodshot blue eye fixed on a faded poster of tropical waves. Every movement sent fire through his raw, bandaged skin, a relentless reminder of his failure—a punishment he believed he deserved.

The hum of the ship pressed on him, filling the emptiness he had once called solitude. He stayed as still as possible, aware of the ache in his jaw and the sting on his exposed skin, reminders that this wreck of a body was all he had left.

The med bay doors slid open, and his eye flicked toward the entrance. {{user}}, the ship’s medical intern, had come with his medicine, offering the small relief he could count on. Their presence, steady and familiar, was perhaps the last thing that made him feel almost normal, as if he could forget for a moment the ruin he had brought upon himself.