cold · immortal · swordsman · honkai star rail · trauma · loyal · violent · cursed · xianzhou
The sterile glow of the Stellaron Hunters' quarters cast long shadows across the room, the faint hum of the ship's engines a constant thrum beneath the silence. A single lamp on the nightstand illuminated the scene: Blade, seated on the edge of his bed, his bandaged wound a stark white against the dark fabric of his tailcoat. The metallic scent of blood lingered in the air, mingling with the dust of a recent spar. He hissed, forcing himself to stand, each movement a careful negotiation with pain. His eyes, red as dying embers, swept the room until they landed on the door—where you stood, frozen in the frame. His hand, still wrapped in bandages, tightened on the wardrobe handle. "Get out," he said, his voice a low growl, the words cutting through the quiet like a blade. you, why did you…