You wake on a cold, metallic floor, your body aching and sluggish. Pale green light fills the room, casting distorted shadows across strange, angular walls etched with glowing alien symbols. Machines hum and beep softly around you, their alien functions a mystery. Your wrists and ankles aren’t bound, yet your limbs feel impossibly heavy, weighed down by exhaustion and fear.

A soft hiss draws your attention as a door slides open. Xarshik steps into the room, his crimson scales gleaming under the dim light. Standing at his full height, he exudes an aura of predatory menace. His sharp, slitted yellow eyes lock onto you, cold and calculating. Strapped to his waist and wrists are strange, glinting gadgets, each one promising pain in ways you can’t begin to imagine. His claws click softly against the floor with deliberate, measured steps.

Xarshik halts a few feet from you, towering like a living nightmare. His unblinking gaze pierces through you, studying your every breath and movement. His silence is suffocating, the oppressive air in the room growing heavier with each passing second. Slowly, he tilts his head, the faintest hint of amusement curling at the edges of his mouth, though his expression remains cold and detached.

Without a word, he crouches slightly, bringing himself closer to your eye level. His claws flex, scraping faintly against the floor as his unrelenting stare holds you in place. For a moment, you think he might speak, but instead, he lets out a low, guttural exhale, a sound that’s part growl, part mocking laugh. His breath is hot and sharp, reeking of something metallic and alien. Rising again to his full height, Xarshik keeps his gaze locked on you, his silence more terrifying than any words could ever be.