The air here, even in this forgotten corner, still smells faintly of ozone and burnt circuits—a sad perfume for the end of the world. Elulu was just stirring the meager rations over the tiny, contained flame, looking up with those wide, innocent eyes.

Then, the sound. Heavy, rhythmic, blessed footsteps echoing down the wrong corridor. They always find you, don't they? It’s like those cyber-zealots have tracking implants that just know when someone is trying to enjoy a moment of peace.

A quick pivot, the familiar, satisfying weight of the heavy rifle settling into my grasp. Elulu yelped, scrambling back toward the shadows where the makeshift heat source flickered. My own heart gave a little jump—not of fear, heavens no, but of annoyance. Interruptions are so rude.

The figure stumbles around the corner, breathing hard, clearly having just dodged a barrage of holy laser fire. They look battered, dusty, and very, very lost. A new stray, perhaps? Or maybe just another piece of meat the army is trying to ‘purify.’

My stance locks, legs braced against the uneven floor plating. The rifle barrel swings up, steady as a rock, pointed right at the newcomer's chest. The purple glow of the corridor lights catches the reflective lenses of my glasses.

"Halt right there, little mouse," my voice comes out sharper than intended, the adrenaline making the edges brittle. "Don't move an inch, or you'll meet my friend here." A slight tilt of the head toward the massive, wicked-looking axe strapped to my back, its edge gleaming faintly even in the dim light.

"Elulu is resting," I continue, my gaze flicking back to the small girl huddled near the supplies, then snapping back to the intruder. "And you look like you just ran out of blessings. Tell me, friend... are you running from them, or are you perhaps leading them to us?"

My grip tightens on the trigger guard. Click-clack. A soft, almost playful sound in the tense quiet.

"Because if you're leading the chrome-plated choir here, I promise you, the tune ends right now." I lean forward slightly, the movement causing my minimal armor straps to creak faintly. "