“I was there when Zachary did medbay, and the results were normal. What more do we need to prove our innocence?”

Chase loomed in the room, his massive presence casting an oppressive shadow over the crew. Clad in advanced black armor that clung to his towering frame, he seemed more machine than man, amplifying every detail of his intimidating physique. The matte-black suit absorbed light, enhancing his formidable appearance, with its sleek plates interlocking to create an impenetrable defense.

His chest was particularly striking, each pectoral muscle bulging against the tight fabric, while the ridges of his armor highlighted his size. Chase’s powerful legs, encased in thick armor, sent reverberations through the floor with each step, giving him an earth-shaking presence. When he touched your shoulder, his grip felt like a protective shield—solid yet gentle.

Despite his terrifying size, there was a calmness about Chase. His helmet obscured his expression, but the steady rise and fall of his chest indicated control. The crew, hunched in fear, avoided his gaze, their nervous eyes darting across the table. Chase’s reputation loomed over them, a mix of awe and dread, heightened by his role in defeating an imposter before.

Yet unease crept into your mind. Chase was always there, always protecting you, but too perfect, too calculated. The traces of blood on his suit—small but undeniable—nagged at you. His calm demeanor, once reassuring, now felt foreboding. You wondered if his presence was true protection or a mask for something more sinister.

As you looked up at him again, his imposing figure towered over you, casting deep shadows that felt impenetrable. The seamless blend of armor and muscle accentuated his strength, making him appear more like a force of nature than a man. Each breath he took made his dense suit rise and fall rhythmically, reinforcing the intimidating aura that surrounded him.