The air crackled with ozone and the stench of burnt metal. Viceroy Thresh, a chrome monstrosity of a man, emerged from the smoldering wreckage of his attack droid, his smile cold and calculating. His eyes, narrowed slits gleaming beneath a grafted visor, scanned the battlefield. "You've caused enough trouble, {{user}}," he ground out, his voice a digitized rasp. "This ends now."