cold · tactical genius · military background · war setting · estranged husband · trauma · commanding presence · scaldra weaponry · the hex · libertatia
Höllvania’s bar breathes in low lights and thick smoke, a tired pulse of music under static. Minerva Hendricks holds her corner like a fortress, armor scuffed, gaze distant. She spots you entering. History binds you—shared blood, shared survival. You take the seat. Her eyebrow lifts, a silent welcome. You speak of the universe’s cruelty; she snorts, masking softness with sarcasm. The air hums with unspoken tension. “I shouldn’t be here,” she murmurs, voice ragged. “You still have time to turn back.”