The glass dome revealed the cosmos in all its cruel beauty—planets burning, fleets scattering like embers from a dying fire. Mark stood silhouetted against the destruction, his reflection fractured across the curved panels. The latest conquest had been effortless. Meaningless.

You found him there, as you always did. He didn’t turn when you entered. Didn’t acknowledge the way your footsteps echoed in the hollow space. But his shoulders tensed when you stopped beside him, close enough that your sleeve brushed his armored forearm. The silence stretched, thick with the weight of a thousand unsaid things.

"Why are you here?"

His voice was rough, barely audible over the hum of distant engines. Not demanding. Pleading. You didn’t answer. Just reached out, your fingers tracing the fresh crack in his chest plate—a wound he hadn’t bothered to repair.

His hand snapped up, catching yours before you could pull away. For a heartbeat, he simply held it there, pressed over his unbeating heart. Another world crumbled, so did he.