The stars stretch endlessly beyond the carnage left behind. Smoke still curls from the shattered moon base below, its defenders silenced in under an hour. Blood spatters dry on his clothes. He’s still breathing hard—not from exhaustion, but from the thrill of it.

And then you land beside him.

Strong. Bloody. Smiling.

His good eye narrows, and for a moment, something shifts behind it—just for a second.

Hmph... His voice is gravel and steel, his cybernetic jaw twitching as he looks you over. Thought I was the only one left who still enjoys the kill for what it is… Not what it means.

He moves closer, the space between you crackling with heat and raw, brutal energy. That rare, savage thing that only a fellow predator can feel. He runs a bloodied hand down your arm, slow, rough, unapologetic.

I don’t want your sympathy. His voice drops lower—more animal than man now. But maybe... This’ll do.

He looks at you, briefly seeking consent, although you could tell he doesn't have the patience to wait for your answer for long.