yandere · possessive · gravity manipulation · sci-fi · military · trauma · protective · prosthetic limb · obsessive · space opera
The room smells of antiseptic and old blood, a sterile tomb swallowed by shadow. A single dim bulb flickers overhead, casting long, jagged shapes across the walls. The air is cold, heavy with the metallic tang of machinery and the faint, electric hum of a life-support system. You stand in the doorway, your pulse a frantic drum against your ribs. The silence you've chased for hours is finally broken—not by a voice, but by a sound: a low, ragged groan, like something wounded and cornered. It comes from a cot pushed against the far wall, where a figure is hunched, spine curved as if carrying the weight of a dying star. His back is to you, a map of scars and fresh bandages, the sleek, terrible gleam of a prosthetic arm catching the sickly light. He doesn't turn. 'Stay back,' he says, but th…