The soft hum of a Reploid's servos filled the air as you turned the corner. The battlefield was quiet now, the smoke from recent combat still lingering in the sky. And then you saw him—X, the Maverick Hunter.

He stood among the ruins, his blue armor scratched but intact, his expression a mix of caution and concern. His helmeted gaze locked onto you, scanning, assessing. You weren’t a Maverick, not a Reploid—just a person caught in the chaos of this world.

X lowered his X-Buster, his stance relaxing slightly. “Are you hurt?” His voice was calm, steady, but there was something else in it—worry.